by Christine Merrill, Michelle Willingham, Louise Allen, Terri Brisbin
But Tom had taken her refusal to kiss as a challenge. Her body burned hot at the memory of it. He had been a generous lover, more concerned with her pleasure than his own.
She could not remember the last time that her pleasure, her wants or her desires had been important to anyone. Not even herself. She had learned to ignore them, to postpone them or to do without. Perhaps that explained her sudden and extreme attraction to Tom Godfrey.
And with that, she felt an unexpected pang of guilt. She had insinuated herself into his life to spy upon him. Perhaps she was in the right, for she had done it for England and her husband’s memory, instead of for French gold.
But if she had accused an innocent man?
And there was the rub. His behavior toward her was—she struggled to find a word. It was gallant. She felt safe in his company, from the way he wished to rescue her from the brothel, to the foolish gesture of sleeping on a bench, when his own bed was just across the room. Would it not pain the wound in his leg and side to sleep in such a cramped way?
The Tom Godfrey she had imagined was a coward who had sacrificed all around him for personal gain. But from the first moment this stranger had touched her, she’d trusted him. She had given of herself and in ways that were new to her, sure that no matter what they tried, he would not hurt her. That trust had been at the heart of their lovemaking, and her response to it.
On the other side of the room, Tom let out a sigh, and rolled again, to face her. And in the barest whisper he said, “You are awake, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She sat up in bed and stared across the room.
He sat up as well. “It is quite hopeless. I meant to bring you here, and to care for you, hoping that I could avoid what I must say. But I will not get a moment’s sleep if I do not just admit the truth.”
She bit her lip and gave a little nod, suddenly afraid that she might hear the very thing she had expected.
He took a deep breath. “The day Captain Paget died my horse was losing a shoe. He favored a leg, and I was lagging behind, trying to nurse him along. If I had been ahead on the road, as I should have been, they would have had warning. It would have been I and not he.” His eyes grew vacant for a moment as he remembered it.
There had been no mention of this in any of the accounts she had heard. But it explained how he had come to retreat, as the rest advanced to their doom. “What became of the horse?”
He looked at her as though it were the maddest question in the world. “Shot in the battle. Poor dumb beast. It was all for naught. In the end, I spared him nothing. I should have ridden forward with the rest and died.”
He touched his wounded leg. “Until I met you, this wound seemed a sufficient punishment for any wrong I committed. But now?” He shook his head. “That day, I took your husband from you with my carelessness. And I took your honor tonight. If you will have me, I will do everything in my power to make this right.”
Something inside her eased, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. And without thinking of what had brought her to this place and this moment, she let out a sigh of relief. Then she patted the mattress beside her. “I do not think I need ’til dawn to make a decision, after all. Come to bed, Thomas.”
Chapter 5
He reached for her again in the night, touching her skin and smiling in wonder as though her presence beside him was miraculous. She touched him in return, laying her hand against his cheek, tracing the planes of his shoulders and back, learning him in a way that was quite innocent, compared to their earlier coupling.
He paid attention to the details of her body, kissing the hollow of her shoulder, the crease of her elbow, her finger tips, and running his thumb along her spine to find a place on her back that was surprisingly sensitive. It made her gasp, and he smiled, continuing to stroke the spot as he bent his head forward to nip her throat and her breasts. Tom was setting a leisurely pace, as though they had all night to pleasure each other. He gave another flick of his finger, which he combined with a slow pull on her nipple that made her arch against him, clutching his hair to hold him tight to her, clawing with her other hand, down his side to search for him, stroke him and spread her legs for him. Her need grew more urgent the slower he moved. She could feel him laughing in triumph as she shuddered against him, so she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, impaling herself upon him, pressing his hand against her most sensitive place, forcing him to give her more pleasure as she bucked against him, her body clenching and releasing him, as she squeezed his hips between her thighs. She heard the moment when his laughter stopped and he relinquished control to her. His breathing quickened, his body thrusting in response, until he whispered her name and lost control inside her again. The sensation was rare, and she closed her eyes as she savored it. The risk of children born while on campaign had been too great to allow such completion. Now, she might have it whenever she liked, and the children as well.
But when she looked into her lover’s eyes, she saw pain as well as pleasure. “Your leg?” She pulled away so that he could withdraw.
He nodded, but laid a steadying hand on her arm. “It is all right.” His eyes seemed to glaze for a moment, and then he smiled, and said through clenched teeth, “No. It was marvelous. Well worth a twinge or two.”
But all the same, she disentangled herself carefully to lie beside him, careful not to stress the wound.
He put his arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. “That you would be willing to lie with me at all is pleasure enough. But that you have accepted my offer is quite amazing as well. There have been others who were not so generous.”
She frowned. “How strange.”
He laughed at her confusion. “My dear, I am not whole. It is quite obvious to you.”
“But for the pain in your leg, you seem well enough.” She had the temerity to blush, and he laughed again.
“In our case, perhaps it is better that you lie with me before you wed me. The woman I expected to take to wife on my return from the war was none too sure about me. Her father told her that the location of the wound might have rendered me unfit as a husband. And while his daughter had no qualms about my entering the military and was quite taken with the sight of the braid on my uniform, there was something less than heroic about my homecoming, when it could not be made on two good legs.”
“But that is horrible. To have served your country is an honorable thing. And to have suffered as you did is a cause for increased respect and not rejection.”
“I knew you would understand. You of all women…” He said it reverently, as though she were precious beyond words to him. Tom reached out and touched her lips with his fingers with such gentleness that it startled her. If her eyes hadn’t been open, she’d have sworn that he’d kissed her.
And then, with a smile, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Victoria wrapped her arms around him and laid her head close against his side, wishing she could take the pain away. She had been so very wrong about Thomas Godfrey. He had suffered at the hands of the French and from the faithless woman who would not take him back.
And he had suffered from her actions as well. She had defamed him to the Earl of Stanton, putting doubts in the man’s head that had no place there. Tomorrow, she would write a letter to Stanton, explaining what she had found, and the strange turn of events that things had taken.
And she would never speak of it again. For much as Tom Godfrey seemed to think he owed her happiness, she owed him a similar debt. She would make up for her lack of faith by being the wife that he longed for her to be.
When she awoke the next morning, Tom was already out of bed, washed and preparing to go out. As though he sensed her return to consciousness, he turned to look at her with an encouraging smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.” Surprisingly, she had. Her decision had given her an easy rest.
“I have no female servant to assist you. If you wish to wait, I can have my valet send for someone. Perha
ps there is a girl in a neighboring flat. Or I…” He broke off shyly, holding his open hands in front of him, to show that he was at her service.
“That is all right. I have learned to manage.” Her clothing was simple for just this reason. And compared to some of the places she’d stayed with Charles, this meager room was a luxury.
He nodded. “I must go out. And until more things are settled, it is hardly proper for us to be seen too much together. We will see if there is a way for your things to be sent for, discreetly.”
“No!” She had forgotten that there were details of her life that could not be filed away and forgotten. It would not do for him to see how she lived. At least not just yet. How could she explain her presence, apparently downcast in a house of ill fame, once he saw that she lived better than he, with more space, more comfort and more servants? “I will take care of sending for what I need. I need no help.”
He looked surprised at her sudden denial. But then he shrugged as though he did not want to broach a topic that she might find embarrassing or painful. “Very well. I will trust to your own judgment in such matters. But be mindful of appearances, and take care not to be seen, should you leave.”
“Why is that?”
He raised an eyebrow, and smiled. “I should think it would be obvious. Your reputation is as precious to me as it is to you. I should hate to have to challenge some young buck to a duel, should he see you creeping from my rooms with the dawn.”
She colored. She had been so long married, and out of London society, that she had almost forgotten that anyone might care.
He grew serious again. “You do still wish to wed, do you not? For if you have had a change of heart?” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “It quite changes my plans for the day. I had meant to procure a special license.”
Again she felt the unfamiliar ripple of pleasure, to see him so eager to wed that he could not wait for the banns. “No, I have not changed my mind.”
And now, he was smiling broadly at her, as though the reassurance had brought him immeasurable pleasure. He stepped forward, drew her up to sit, and kissed her on top of the head. “I am glad. And I will work to make you comfortable. And happy again, if you will let me.”
Happy. What a curious idea. In her old life, she had been content, certainly. But had she been happy, traipsing about the Continent after Charles? Not really. She would have preferred her townhouse, the company of friends. A regular bed and regular meals. And perhaps a regular husband. “That would be nice. Thank you.” She hoped he had not been expecting some declaration of love, for it seemed too soon to use that word. But to have a man to love, just an ordinary man, and not a soldier? And to have that man be as devoted to her as Tom Godfrey was? The possibility shimmered before her for a moment, like a beautiful dream.
“I had best get to it. If you are sure that you can manage?”
She gave him an encouraging smile in return. “I will be fine.”
“Then I will go and make arrangements. And in no time at all, you will be Mrs. Godfrey.”
Chapter 6
Tom smiled through clenched teeth as he climbed the steps to his final destination. The pain in his leg had not been so very bad as he had gone about the tortuous process of applying for the special license. But he did not wish to show weakness before the Earl of Stanton at the Home Office. He tried not to lean too heavily on his cane as he spoke to the clerk in the front room, and politely insisted that he had served under the earl when he had been simple Captain St John Radwell. Surely, a brief visit from an old comrade would not be unwelcome.
He heard a bark of affirmation from the door behind him, and words of welcome. But when he turned to face his old superior, the look in the man’s eyes was wary. It seemed, after the disaster that had befallen his last captain, Tom would have to prove himself again to this one.
Stanton reached out and grasped his hand, pulling him into the office, but did not bother to shut the door behind him. “What brings you here, Tom? Are you doing well since your return? How is the leg, man?”
He shifted his weight to prove its strength. “As well as can be expected. It will never be right. But slowly, it improves. But other things?” He could not help the grin that spread on his face. “I suppose they are both very good, and most difficult.”
“How so?”
“I have it in my mind to marry.”
The earl looked startled quite beyond what he’d expected. “Marry? I had not heard…”
“That is because the decision is sudden. Fast as lightning, some might think.”
“Do I…know the woman involved?”
The question stopped him. Perhaps Victoria’s fears were justified. “I do not see why you should. She is the widow of a friend of mine. I hesitate to mention the name until the announcement is made. It is as sudden for her as it is for me. If she has people, they should hear of it before I go trumpeting my good fortune about the town, tempting though it may be to brag.”
Stanton nodded, although there was strange hesitation in his reply. “That is probably wise. If there is a reason to cry off, it will save embarrassment.”
And how little confidence in him did such a strange comment betray? “I am not worried on that account. We are in total agreement.”
“But you spoke of a difficulty?”
“Simply that I had not thought to marry so soon. While I can manage to provide for her, it will not be as easy as I might like. I seek employment. I wondered if perhaps there might be some use you could find for a man who has already proven his loyalty to the crown.”
And just as he feared it might, a shadow flickered behind the other man’s eyes. He must have heard the rumors. Tom had no wish to deny the charges before they were spoken. When half a company died around a man, there were bound to be those who thought him responsible, through negligence or connivance.
Stanton shook his head. “I am sorry, Tom. But I have nothing to offer you. I will keep you in mind, of course. And if the occasion arises, I will be in touch. Leave your direction with my man. But now, there is simply no need of another body.”
Tom nodded, and tried to keep the bitterness from his voice. “I understand. Better than you think, perhaps. What you believe about me is not true. If I can find a way to prove it to you, I shall. And then, God help whoever has put these foul rumors in your head. I shall see they pay for their lies.”
The earl shook his head. “Then God help you, Tom. For I cannot. Good day to you.”
With that dismissal, Tom exited the office, back stiff with shame and the pain of fruitless exertion. Stanton shut the door behind him with a snap. And as he proceeded to the outer room, the little man who had tried to prevent his entrance now moved to block his exit. Tom raised his head to look and the clerk gestured to him, with a barest crook of the finger. “You seek employment?”
Tom nodded.
“And he turned you away, did he not?”
Tom nodded again.
The clerk gave a grim smile and whispered, “There is work enough here, should he choose to take you on. But he does not trust you. It is a shame. But I know of someone who is seeking men with knowledge that they would share. And although you are not as valuable as you might be, if you could return quietly to this office while still in his service, there are some tasks that would suit your abilities.”
“Might suit me?” Tom said, a little dumbly.
“I heard, just now, that you wished to take back some of your own against those who have put you in this unenviable position. You are crippled for doing what you thought was right. And now you have been discarded by those in whom you put your trust. I offer you the opportunity for revenge.” The man smiled. “And profit as well.” He scribbled a few words on paper and pushed them hurriedly into Tom’s hand just as the door to the earl’s office opened again. Stanton looked at him with only the mildest curiosity, and turned his attention to the clerk.
While they were both distracted, Tom slipped quietly from the room.
She’d shaken her head, smiled and assured him that there was nothing she needed. And still, he watched her with sharp, dark eyes that said his master might be easily gulled by his feelings for a beautiful woman, but the servant was nobody’s fool.
She had wanted pen and ink to write to Stanton, and enough privacy to do it unobserved. With the servant hovering behind her, how would that be possible? And she could still find no way to explain the comfortable life she had been leading just a few short miles across town.
The more she had seen of Tom’s civilian life the more guilty she felt for suspecting him. He lived simply, just short of poverty. If he had turned coat for the French, then they would have rewarded him in some way. There was no sign of the zealot in him that might make her think he’d done it out of loyalty to Boney.
And now that she had seen the scars on his body, she could not convince herself that he had staged a minor injury to disguise his perfidy. What kind of fool would come near to sacrificing his leg just to throw the hounds from his trail? It had rendered him unfit for duty, and for many forms of employment.
She had wanted to believe him innocent last night, as he’d held her and slept. But in the morning she had viewed the problem from all angles, lest her judgment had been swayed by sweet words and soft touches. As she weighed the bits of evidence against each other, no matter how she looked at it, it appeared that she had been wrong.
If only she could have come to the conclusion a few hours sooner, she might have slipped away from him last night, and avoided the painful admission she might have to make today.