“We will leave after the play. I think we’re capable of providing our own farce. Or maybe we should leave at the first interval. Would that be remarked upon, I wonder?”
Yes, it would. Helena lowered her head, trying desperately to regain her composure.
Chapter 16
Tom handed her down from the carriage, moving closer and waiting for his father and grandmother to enter the theater first. People were thronging around the place, a glowing palace of entertainment, its relatively plain front lit and busy. At the height of the season, they would need a footman to forge a path to the door for them. As it was, people fell back and not a few recognized them. They kept going.
Automatically, Helena turned left, since their family had a box on that side, but of course she was to turn right now.
Tom led her upstairs, nodding to acquaintances but not stopping. “The second interval at the latest,” he murmured to her.
The murmurs grew, but Helena knew how to ignore gossip. “Best to let them get it all out there,” she said.
“You have done this before,” Tom said.
“Indeed I have.” Flicking her fan open, she allowed him to take her upstairs.
After the duke and his mother had taken their seats, Tom ushered Helena into hers, and she took in the view from this side of the theater.
The play appeared much the same as ever. They were presenting a new piece tonight. Either it was not ready for an audience yet, or the actors were new ones, but they did not hold the interest of the audience.
Quizzing glasses flashed in the light from the chandelier poised overhead, and fans wafted as women gossiped behind them. They were giving London a new topic of conversation. Nobody cared about the play, but it appeared the actors were not too enamored, either. They kept glancing up to the box where Helena sat with Tom. He paid her flattering attention, procuring wine and tidbits for her that she did not in the least want. Not until he bade her open her mouth and popped a sugared almond there. Love play.
“I’m not used to this,” she told him, after crunching what was admittedly a delicious treat.
“Neither am I. But we must do our best, must we not? We are garnering more attention than the performers down there, so we will just have to bear it. But not for long, my love.”
“Promise me one thing.”
Stilled by her serious tone, he stopped in his selection of another sweetmeat for her, his long fingers curled around another almond, a pink one this time. “What is it?”
She liked that he did not instantly promise her the world. “You will only call me that if you mean it.” She glanced away, at the stage, at the eyes relentlessly trained on her. “My father calls my mother by that name, but he only does it to keep the peace.”
“I promise.”
The simple words meant so much to her. “And I will promise the same.”
“Indeed. Now I think this almond is particularly fine, my love, so open and tell me if I’m telling the truth.”
The gentle, frivolous play amused Helena and lightened her spirits. She ate the treat and considered it carefully, eventually deciding that he could continue to select them for her, but for now she had eaten sufficient. Putting the crystal dish aside, he beckoned to the footman and handed her a glass of Madeira wine.
A flash of brilliance caught her attention, and she knew without looking properly that Julius had arrived. He had taken so long, she had wondered if Eve had prevailed on him to remain, but the reason for his tardiness was evident now.
Julius, Lord Winterton, was resplendent. His coat was a gleaming ice blue, and the buttons on his pure white waistcoat diamonds. A large solitaire winked and flashed in the folds of his beautifully tied neckcloth, and the best lace money could buy cascaded over his wrists and frothed at his throat. He wore the merest suspicion of powder, but when he walked, the beautifully jeweled hilt of a sword glittered with menacing promise. If anyone accused him of unmanliness, he would take his accusations and shove them down his throat.
Smiling, sardonic and amused at once, he made his bow to the dowager, and then to Helena, and after that, Chloe and Emilia. He exchanged a chilly nod with Lord William. A seat was made available to him next to his sister, and he took it, leaning over to snag a handful of the almonds.
“You had time for a manicure?”
“A mere pass with the buffer,” he murmured. “One does not like to be underdressed.”
Helena snorted. “There’s little chance of that happening. They’re agog!”
“Even more so because I could not for the life of me remember which box belonged to the Dankworth family.” A blatant lie, because they had been sitting opposite to each other for as long as anyone could remember. “I was forced to inquire in rather louder tones than I prefer to employ of the whereabouts of Lord and Lady Alconbury. Helena, I have told you before about your tendency to gurgle. A lady does not chortle, especially in company.”
“This one does.” Helena scanned the sea of faces below them. Even the actors on stage had lost interest in the play. “I’ll wager ice blue will be the color of the moment this season.”
“I bought the fabric years ago,” he said. “I had meant it for you, and then you bought the rest of the bolt, so I was forced to put it by. But I believe you ruined that gown last season, so I felt safe in finally having the cloth made up.”
Helena sighed and fanned herself. “Red wine does not go well with pale blue silk. I could have had it pieced, but I would always know the mark had been there. I prefer a symmetrical gown. I believe I have it somewhere. I’ll have it sent to you, so that you have the spare fabric, in case you have a similar accident.”
Tom did not gurgle. He snorted. “You truly do follow fashion slavishly. I had thought it a hum, especially after I saw you last year in Appleton.” That was the village where Julius had met Eve.
“I was not aware that I had to meet with your approval before I decided to devote my time to fashion.” Julius pulled a quizzing glass out of his pocket and leveled it at Tom, but then lowered it with the hint of a smile. “It amused me. Moreover, it proves a useful disguise. Very few ruffians believe a namby-pamby gentleman like me can give them any trouble at all. Believe me, there is great sport in proving them otherwise. However, since I married, I have found the pastime less interesting.”
Helena remembered a time when Julius had been at outs with the whole world. Convinced the fashionable had done more than its share to drive Caroline to her early death, he had done his small part to get his revenge. The clothes and elaborate appearances had also hidden him from scrutiny. People who knew him did not make the mistake of taking him for a fashionable fribble with a head full of wool, but sometimes others did.
“You have found most things less interesting, since you met Eve,” Helena remarked.
“And you went for five years without that felicity.” Julius lowered his voice, but since the population of the theater had long since given up any pretense of watching the play and was now conversing loudly, his precautions hardly seemed necessary. “I would not have waited so long. In fact, I would probably have confronted the woman I had deceived years ago.”
Tom did not pretend to misunderstand him. “I did. But I did not understand her persistent nature.”
“Stubborn, I call it,” Julius said mildly, crunching into a nut.
“A brother’s privilege,” Helena said in a warning tone.
“I prefer persistent,” Tom insisted.
Even in the choice of words, the men could not agree. Helena could not imagine them ever becoming the best of friends. Even with all other considerations eliminated, these two men had too much in common to agree over many matters. They were both leaders, both concerned with living up to their responsibilities, too independent-minded to ever agree on much.
Nothing could keep her bubble of euphoria from rising now. By coming here, she had publicly claimed her husband. By coming here, her brother had acknowledged the marriag
e.
What would society make of the connection? She dreaded to think.
Julius got to his feet. “I fear there is little amusement to be found here. On the stage, at least. I shall probably call in at White’s. Do you care to accompany me, Alconbury?”
Tom rose too and helped Helena up. Startled, she stared between the two men.
“You surely do not wish my husband to accompany you to a gentleman’s club!”
“I have no intention of going anywhere near St. James’s Street tonight,” Tom said gently. “But you are tired, my dear.” He smiled gently at Julius. “You, as an old married man, may do as you please, but I am taking my wife home and ensuring she has her rest.”
He did not have to say “eventually.” Helena heard the word in her mind.
Julius smiled as if he could hear it, too. “I will merely collect my winnings. I took a notion to stop off here on the way and see if I had any takers for a particular bet. I got six, probably because I laid excellent odds.”
“The bet being?”
“That Lord Alconbury would be wed before the month was out. As is only proper, I did not mention the lady.” He glanced at Helena, brimful of amusement, the corners of his eyes slightly creased as if he was about to break out into laughter. “They did not ask. They were a trifle bosky, but I chose not to ruin them. However, even the modest sums I laid out will have their effect. I daresay the whole of the country will hear of the marriage soon enough.”
They moved out to the hallway behind the boxes. A footman followed them out, holding their outer wear. He stood outside the box, waiting for his summons.
“Indeed the notion to marry now is a good one. The news will race around the country, and then they will forget it in favor of something else. There’s a highwayman due for hanging, and he looks as if he will put on a brave show. Not that I will be present to witness it. I might have been instrumental in his arrest, but I do not have to see the matter through to the bitter end. The ruffian who accosted you will also find justice soon enough. With your permission, I will call on you in the next day or two.” For a bare instant, his mask of smiling moderation slipped, revealing the ruthless man beneath. “He will not escape me. I am determined on that.”
“I should like to be in at the kill,” Tom said mildly, but for all that, steel underlaid his voice. The muscles of his forearm flexed under Helena’s hand.
“If I find sport, I will let you know. I daresay the matter will be tedious in the extreme, though.” Julius stifled a yawn. “Dear me. I’d better be off before I fall asleep where I stand. It’s been a tiring day.” After bowing to them, he left.
“We should follow his example,” Tom said mildly. His smile broadened. “And we will. You’ve had a hard day, my love.”
Weariness swept over her, but it was more remembered than felt. That morning, when she’d run through the streets, seemed so far away now. They were swiftly moving toward normality—a new normality, but it remained in the background, seductively promising them delights to come.
Tom helped her into the carriage himself, as if she were some kind of invalid, and out after the short journey back to the house.
At the front door, he paused. “I was planning to hire a house for us, but I’ve been thinking of alternatives. Shall we go into the country instead? Tomorrow we may get the tedious business of settlements out of the way. We’ve done the needful this evening, and we may safely leave society to gossip. I can think of no reason for us to remain in town, unless you should wish it. I know your brother prefers the town to the country. Maybe you are of the same mind?”
She shook her head slightly. “Julius prefers anywhere to Edensor Abbey, because it has my mother in it. I cannot remember a time when they have not been at odds with each other. He has a small house of his own, but nobody goes there unless he invites them. I would love to go away with you.”
“Then that is settled.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, ignoring the sniff from the butler, who had opened the door to them, and then he led her inside.
This house would never be home, but it contained a plethora of servants, enough to keep her safe, since Julius still fretted about her and would until he had located the false Lord Everslade. Helena knew better than to argue. In many ways, Tom was cut from the same cloth. She just prayed they would be done with the search soon. If she were Everslade, she’d have headed straight for the port and caught the next ship with passenger space, heedless of where it was going.
Tom did not bother to stop at any of the other rooms but took her straight upstairs. Closing the door, he lifted his brow at his valet, standing there evidently waiting for his master’s return. The man said nothing, but left.
“I want to do this. Is this our wedding night?” Tugging the robings of her gown, he brought her closer.
“No. We had one of those. This is our marriage night.” Unaccustomed to feeling shy, she did not recognize the emotion for a minute, and then almost laughed with relief when she did. “I have believed myself married to you for five years. Yet I feel like a new bride.”
“Because you are.” He smiled down at her and slid his fingers under the gown to discover the fastenings. “Now I unwrap you. Will you show maidenly modesty?”
“Probably not.” She was too eager to be naked with him and feel his body next to hers. This and more. “I want everything I missed all that time.”
He arched a brow. “Now?”
“All of it.” He would not deter her, and if he did not hurry, she’d strip herself.
When she tried to help him with the hooks at the front, he brushed her hands away and undid every single one with deliberation. Enough to drive her mad, but he only chuckled when she told him so.
“Patience is a virtue,” he murmured.
“Also a waste of time.”
Opening her gown, he pushed it off her shoulders and touched the slender chain that held his signet ring around her neck. Usually she wore it concealed, pinned to the inside of her gown. It rarely left her, and she preferred to have it touching her skin, which was why it had not been in her pocket that fateful night with Everslade.
Not even recalling his name dampened her mood. Nothing could, now, unless Tom turned his back and walked away from her, which did not seem in the least likely.
He stroked the pad of his thumb against the carved surface of the ring. “I think the figure is a Roman emperor,” he said, “which is appropriate, since I married one.”
“The Empress Helena was from the Byzantine Empire, really, but they considered it a continuation of the Roman one.”
“Hmm.” He let the ring drop and continued with his self-imposed task.
Her gown fell to the floor. She should really pick it up, since it did not belong to her, but she let it be. Perhaps she’d do it later. The color might not suit her, but she would recall it with pleasure, because in it she had become the publicly acknowledged Countess of Alconbury. Mrs. Dankworth. Mrs. Fisher. Tom’s wife.
He loosened her stays and then drew her shift down. The lace at the edge tickled her sensitive nipples, and she moaned when he bent to fasten his lips to them. Sucking and licking, he coaxed first one and then the other to glistening, hard peaks.
Pausing, he shed his coat, and then he was back, loosening the drawstrings at her waist. Her petticoats, hoops and pocket fell to the floor.
After sparing a thought for her watch, she sent the rest to perdition. With a low laugh, she said, “I had no idea I could get naked so quickly.” She tugged his waistcoat. “You, on the other hand, have some catching up to do.”
“Now,” he muttered next to her skin and pushed her shift down. Shoes, stockings, and garters did not afford her much cover.
Tom groaned, stroked her skin, and pressed the small of her back as he kissed and sucked his way down her body. When he licked the inside of her hip, she shivered, and he covered her backside with his other hand, urging her even closer.
“Open your legs, my
love.”
She did not question him. When she widened her stance, he went down on his knees and leaned back, looking at her.
“So pretty. All that pink inside the gold.” He blew, parting the curls and hitting her sensitive flesh.
Gasping, she jolted in shock. How could he do that without even touching her?
He lifted his head, gazing up at her with a wicked grin. “We have all the time we need now, and I intend to make the most of it. And of you.”
He traced a line down from her left hip to where her legs met and then between. Just as if he were drawing. The pressure of his fingernail was steady, the warmth of his finger a foreign intrusion, but never so welcome as this.
She had nothing to hold on to. She would have to bend to touch his shoulder, and that might force him away from her. Whatever else he did, she needed him not to stop. The bed was a modern canopy kind without the pillars of a four-poster, the top suspended from the ceiling. She gazed at it, memorizing the way the gold fringe was slightly uneven in places, a strand of thread hanging down from the part by the corner. The rich green velvet was soft, gleaming where the candlelight caught it.
Tom licked her.
Caught in her own dream, she gasped and cried out when a bolt of lightning shot through her. Tom traced the line at the center of her body with the tip of his tongue and dipped briefly inside her before returning and taking the hard knot of flesh at the front into his mouth. He sucked and Helena went wild.
“Ah, Tom, no, Tom, stop, don’t stop, ah, God!”
Such babble was worthy of a madwoman, but she could not stop, until she clamped her mouth shut and let him take her. He steadied her by anchoring her to him with one hand on her buttocks, pressing her close. He gave her no surcease from the blissful torture he was delivering, increasing it by pushing first one finger inside her and then another, only the hand behind her securing her now.
Her peak came fast and hard—no gentle rise from the state of blissful euphoria he had put her in, but a sharp, violent edge of joy spiking up. If he did not have her safe, she would have melted bonelessly to the floor.
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