“You can use the dressing room. There is water and whatever else you need.” He pulled on a banyan. “There will be food here when you are done.”
The dressing room proved larger than some homes, with divans and chairs as well as the usual items. She found the necessary equipment, and washed with soap that smelled like the duke. She dried herself with a linen so soft that she wondered how it had been made. She took a moment to inspect his brushes, which were nicer than she’d ever imagined a brush being.
She dared not use one, so fixed her hair using only her fingers and pins. She had carried in her clothes and now put them on. One glance in the looking glass deflated her joy. Suddenly she was Amanda Waverly again, not the goddess this duke had made her.
He offered her a choice. A discreet affair, or being his mistress. No liaison at all had not been among the options. That was the way it had to be, however. She did not think she had the courage to tell him that this morning.
Breakfast indeed waited when she returned to the bedchamber. They sat to it together. When he saw how she savored the tea, he poured her more until she had drunk most of the pot.
He appeared rakish and rough with a shadow of beard on his face and his thick curls disheveled and wild. The celadon-green brocade banyan probably cost more than she earned in half a year. She feasted her gaze on him, on the chest partly visible above the garment’s unbuttoned collar, and the well-formed legs that showed when he sat back and extended them.
“How will I get out?” she asked when she finished her meal.
“How did you get in?”
An unfortunate question. “Through the garden door. It was left unlocked.”
His gaze settled on her skeptically. “I doubt that. The housekeeper is very strict. She sees to that door herself.”
She felt herself flushing. “If you don’t laugh, I will tell you the truth. I came in a window. Your housekeeper is not so careful with those.”
He did laugh. “I am picturing that. You cannot go out that way. I will go down and have everyone make themselves scarce under penalty of death. Then you will walk out any door you choose.” He took her hand. “If I have the garden door left unlocked tonight, will you come back?”
“Not tonight.”
“The next then.”
She dared not return to this chamber and this bed. She could not risk falling asleep again. The reasons she should not, the future waiting for her, shouted that this idyll must end.
She should put him off and leave and never meet him again. She need only give him the same excuse she had used with Lady Farnsworth, or the one she’d given Katherine.
She could not find the strength to do that yet. One more time, perhaps. One last bit of heaven before Amanda Waverly disappeared.
“I should not risk entering this house again. However, tomorrow night I will try to meet you in the garden, if that will do.”
He kissed her hand. “We will do it any way that you want, Amanda.”
* * *
He was good to his word and saw Amanda could leave without anyone seeing her. It was not the first time he had demanded the servants disappear so a woman could avoid gossip.
Once she had gone, he washed and dressed. While he donned the coats Miles had laid out, he sent the valet for a footman named Vincent. The fair-haired young man appeared at the dressing room door.
Gabriel brought him in while he finished. “Is the watch on my brother’s house continuing?”
“We are taking turns, Your Grace. A man is there every night.”
“Is he aware of you?” Harry had asked this watch start after he returned to the country. Gabriel could not picture his brother confronting an intruder, so he had sent the footmen at once but told them to stay on the street and remain unknown to his brother.
“I think he is unaware, sir.”
“Good. Now, I have another small charge of a similar nature. Do you think you and the others can handle both?”
Vincent grinned. “I think the lads are enjoying being out and about in the summer nights. They vie for the duty since it is so different and they get to sleep in the morning.”
“This one is not all night, or even part of it. There is a woman who works for Lady Farnsworth. Dark hair, perhaps twenty-three or so. I have reason to think that she walks home alone. We know it is unwise for a woman to be out on the streets on her own.”
“Not wise at all, sir.”
“I want you to follow her when she leaves the lady’s house to make sure no one interferes with her. In the morning, you are to arrive at her home before seven o’clock and again follow while she makes her way back to Mayfair. You are not to let her see you. I cannot make that clear enough. She is not to know.”
Vincent assumed a serious expression. “And if someone does interfere?”
“I expect you to discourage him from ever trying again.”
“It will be a pleasure, sir.”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“Of course not, sir. A mild discouragement should work well enough. I will make sure the lads understand that.”
“See to it, then. Every day until I tell you otherwise.”
Vincent left. Gabriel attached his pocket watch, then went down to the study to get a portfolio. Amanda would object if she knew he had set footmen to watching her. She would probably say she had taken care of herself long enough not to need them.
Perhaps she was right, but he felt the need to protect her now. He had a responsibility where she was concerned, whether she liked it or not.
* * *
Gabriel paced through the modest drawing room. He supposed it was not as small as it had appeared to him at first. His experience did not give him a fair point of comparison.
“It will need new furniture, but she will see to that.”
He turned to where Stratton spoke while he peered through windows at the prospects.
“She will not live here, Stratton. Why would she want new furniture?”
Stratton pushed aside a drape and peered out another window. “It is not the plan that she live here, but eventually she will.”
Gabriel began to regret bringing Stratton along. He had seen him riding and invited him on impulse. The duchess expected lady callers and the baby’s nurse had barred the door to intrusion so Stratton had nothing to do this afternoon.
“It will just happen,” Stratton added. “She will find it inconvenient to leave her home for assignations. You will find it inconvenient to have to plan every meeting. Why don’t you just live here, you will suggest one day. Or, if you are thoroughly smitten, it will be Why don’t I buy you this house and you can live here?”
“It would be more convenient, but she will never agree to being kept.”
“Not yet. She will change her mind, though.” Stratton looked around critically, hands on his hips. “With that eventuality in mind, you should start with a better house. One that will suit you in the longer term. This one is fine, but you will find it poorly apportioned if you have it as a second home.”
A second home was not the plan. He merely sought a house in a quiet neighborhood for having rendezvous with Amanda. Stratton may have given voice to why this drawing room seemed unsatisfactory, however. He did picture himself spending more than the occasional night in it.
Would it ever come to that? A house in her name, a carriage, an account for her to use as she pleased? Stratton assumed Amanda would eventually want that. Gabriel tried to envision whether he would too.
“The last one was far superior,” Stratton said. “More discreet too, being another street away from the square.”
“Your expertise in this clearly exceeds mine. Personal experience? In France, perhaps?”
“I have only watched the progress of such things often. Yes, in France. It is more common there than here. A man might have a mistress for decades. No one even comments on those second households and the families that live in them. Of course we have our king as an example here, but he flaunted his decisi
on. It is not commonplace here as it is in France.”
Gabriel did not expect matters to develop the way Stratton predicted, but he decided this house would not suit him even for a few hours at a time. “I will let the last one, as you advise.”
“Then we are done.”
They rode back together.
“Do you suppose there are those among our acquaintances who have those second households, Stratton? Only so discreetly most are unaware of it?”
“I expect so. I always wondered about Brentworth, for example.”
“No. I can’t believe that. We would have learned of it.”
Stratton shrugged. “There was that period before I left for France when he had no female companionship that I saw. He adopted his severe code of discretion for a reason, don’t you think? His father was still alive then, and if the woman was unsuitable . . .”
It startled Gabriel to consider that one of his best friends might have lived an entire part of his life in secret. “I find that hard to believe. I am sure you wondered about nothing.”
Stratton just smiled and shrugged again.
Chapter Twelve
The leave-taking from Lady Farnsworth proved emotional. Amanda spent the day at her desk, completing a few tasks so nothing would remain unfinished. They shared some tea in the afternoon, and Lady Farnsworth did not even acknowledge it was the last time except to reassure Amanda that she would explain all to Mrs. Galbreath. Only when Amanda went to say good-bye did they face the day’s importance.
“Please sit with me a moment, Miss Waverly. Amanda.”
She sat on the damask bench and Lady Farnsworth examined her. Then she handed over a folded paper. “This is the reference I promised you. You can give any prospective employer my address and they can contact me, should this letter be questioned.”
“Thank you. You are too kind.”
“I doubt I will replace you immediately. At least a fortnight will pass. Should you discover that your mother does not need you as long as you fear, you must write and let me know and I will hold the position longer. Please write in any case and tell me you arrived safely and give me a place where I can direct letters to you.”
Amanda did not have it in her to speak another lie, but of course she would never write to Lady Farnsworth.
“Thank you for having faith in me,” she said. “I have learned much from you, and seen fascinating things and important people. You are a rarity among women and I will forever treasure knowing you.”
“And I you, Amanda dear. I will miss you sorely.” Lady Farnsworth opened her arms. Amanda went over and accepted her embrace and kiss.
She held back any tears until she left, but as she walked away from the house, her eyes blurred. She swallowed the swell of emotion and worked to steady both her nerves and resolve. She had two more such painful good-byes to endure. That with Katherine, and that with the Duke of Langford.
* * *
He assumed she would enter at the back of the garden. He unlocked the portal so she would not have to try another way. For all he knew, she would climb the wall.
He had no idea when she would come, so he made himself comfortable on a stone bench inside a folly set deep among the plantings. The small structure resembled an Asian tea house, only constructed of painted stone instead of wood. The roof with its sloping lines had been carved of stone, and required more supports than any real tea house sported.
It was not, he decided, the landscape architect’s finest achievement.
He wondered if she would like that house he was letting. Was Stratton correct, and one day they would agree he should buy it or another for her? He had never done that before, but then he never had mistresses very often. Lovers, yes, but not the more formal arrangements that some men preferred. Even among his lovers, the longest liaison had been less than a year. As he grew older, they lasted shorter periods all the time.
The problem was that inevitably the new excitement grew old. The mysteries were all solved. One then was left with the question of whether this woman was someone you liked in a way that would urge one to spend further time in her company. The pleasures might remain strong, but time’s passage introduced other considerations.
Would it be different with Amanda? He had no idea. One thing would be different, however. In the past, his women had been well born. They had husbands or brothers or fathers to take care of them. Some had independent fortunes. With Amanda, he took on obligations. He could not walk away if it ended without ensuring she had a secure future. He would find a way to do that.
Any woman who had left that locket on the carpet might resist his efforts in that direction. He suspected she would never ask him to buy her a house, or any of the other things a kept woman received. When he’d spoken of arrangements, she had not presented a list of expectations. That impressed him in good ways, but her independence could prove inconvenient.
The shadows beneath the trees moved. He sensed her presence in the garden. “Over here,” he said quietly.
More shifting shadows. She emerged from them and stood right outside the folly. She tilted her head and peered up at the structure. It stirred a memory of another woman doing that in front of a house.
“It is hard to see, but appears to be rather awful,” she said.
“It is far nicer inside.”
She heard the invitation and stepped in under the roof. He could not tell what color dress she wore, but its form did not flatter her. He guessed it had been remade in some way, not created for her by an expert. He would like to buy her a wardrobe. Perhaps in a few weeks she would allow that.
He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. He savored her scent and taste. He had been waiting for this kiss with more anticipation than he’d realized. The feel of her in his arms brought him profound contentment.
“I cannot stay long,” she said while she nuzzled his neck.
“Then come inside with me now.”
“I do not think I should. It can’t be like last time. I can’t risk falling asleep. There are things I must do early tomorrow.”
I risk much. That was what she meant, as if he needed the reminder. Which he probably did, since in his mind he was already past these initial steps in claiming her.
“We will stay out here, then, if you like. The night is warm enough.”
“It is lovely here. I can smell the flowers in the bed beyond these trees. The breeze carries the scent to us.”
The only sweet scent he noticed was hers, familiar to him now and a part of her presence that he remembered while she was away.
“How did you get here?”
“I walked.”
He should have made arrangements about that first. It had been ignoble of him not to. Nor would Vincent or another footman have followed her this late. Their orders were to ensure she returned from Lady Farnsworth’s unharmed.
He pictured her being stopped on her way here by a constable who assumed she was a whore. “I will bring you home. You are not to walk through town at night anymore.” I will buy you a carriage and pair, and hire a coachman and footman to serve you. Stratton had been correct. Practicalities would demand bigger arrangements, no matter how casually this began.
“I would prefer you do not.”
“Then I will hire a hansom. Do not object. It is either that or I call for one of my carriages.”
She giggled. He felt her smile while she kissed him. “One of my carriages. I forget who you are sometimes. What you are. How astonishing this is, you and me here.” She caressed his face and peered at him through the dark. “I may forget what you are, but I will never forget you. Not ever. I will treasure the memories until I die.”
“There will be many more, starting tonight.” He kissed her hard, the way he had wanted to since he’d embraced her. Her response said the time for talk was over. Her quick fever matched his own. The breezes swam around them as they rose in the whirlwind together.
Joy. That was what he felt. That was the difference. He noted that vaguel
y while he released the tapes of her dress. She wore only short stays underneath, and her breasts rose above them, covered only by her chemise. She straddled him and pushed down the chemise herself. He lifted her hips and licked her breasts until her hips rocked with need. She clutched one of the folly’s stone supports behind the bench and urged him on with her cries and gasps.
He lifted her skirts. “Hold these.” She took them in one hand and steadied herself on the support with the other. He lifted her higher yet until she set her feet on either side of him. He sensed her astonishment and hesitation. Too soon, perhaps, but he could not stop now.
He caressed her mound, then stroked deeply. She looked down and cried her pleasure and shock. He touched her until she trembled and her cries turned desperate. Then he lowered her just enough so he could support her bottom with his hands and kiss the same flesh he had aroused with his fingers.
Desire owned him then, like a feral madness. He indulged himself until her scream of release almost undid him.
She dropped to her knees, flanking his lap. She fumbled with his trousers and tried to release him. He made quick work of it. She rose slightly, then lowered with a groan as they joined.
She moved on him, hard. Holding his shoulders, she circled and slammed furiously, creating unbelievable sensations and provoking a ferocious urge. He grasped her hips and pushed deeper yet while his consciousness darkened and the demand for a finish raged through him. Her escalating cries sounded around him while the cataclysm shook him to his essence.
* * *
She could stay like this forever, breathless and spent, sagged against his chest, surrounded by his arms. This was heaven, surely. While she lay on him in a stupor of sensuality, she knew such peace. Such bliss.
“I have let a house where we can meet next time.” His words, spoken near her ear, reminded her that it could not last forever.
She buried her face in his chest and swallowed the burn in her throat. He thought he knew who she was now. What she was. But he didn’t. It had been a mistake to come tonight. The lure had proved stronger than her courage to do the right thing.
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