A tiny uncertain laugh rippled through her.
‘You know it’s not … I’m not …’ She stopped and stifled a yawn. ‘I don’t know what I am. I can’t think.’
‘Good.’ He dropped a light kiss on her hair. ‘Go to sleep.’
Her fingers sought his hand. ‘You won’t go away?’
‘No. I won’t go away. Go to sleep.’
Adeline fell asleep very quickly. Rockliffe, his brain resuming its function rather quicker than he would have liked, lay awake for some time before sleep finally over-came him. And then knew nothing for several hours.
He awoke to find Adeline propped on one elbow, her hair straying wildly around her shoulders and her eyes devouring his face. Smiling a little, he said, ‘Good morning. How long have you been staring at me?’
‘Not long. Not long enough.’
‘Of course.’ Laughter - mocking, tantalising and real - lit his eyes as he sat up and pulled her to him. ‘I’ve been called many things. But beautiful? Seriously?’
Adeline flushed a little. ‘I didn’t think you’d heard. You weren’t meant to. But if you really want to know, then yes … seriously.’
‘I don’t know whether to be flattered … or worried.’ Beneath the sheet, his hand was investigating the silky skin of her thigh. ‘But I’m glad you weren’t … disappointed.’
‘Yes. I’m sure that must have been a relief,’ she retorted, making him laugh again. She lay quietly for a moment, her body already in turmoil from the as yet unfamiliar delight of having him naked beside her; and then she said hesitantly, ‘Tracy … what will we do about the scandal?’
‘Allow it to burn itself out. Don’t worry about it. It will do so soon enough – or something else will come along to eclipse it. And I imagine your part is already paling into insignificance beside Diana’s remarkable descent into social ruin and palpable insanity.’
‘What do you think they’ll do about her?’
‘Lock her in the attic?’ His fingers moved lazily on to the curve of waist and hip. ‘I really don’t care.’
‘And Richard?’
‘Ah. Yes. Him.’ His hand stilled and his voice acquired a certain grimness. ‘He won’t bother you again. He knows what will happen if he does.’
Adeline angled her head to look into his face. She said, ‘What did you do?’
Rockliffe sighed. ‘I think I broke his jaw. I certainly relieved him of a couple of teeth.’
Startled into laughter, she sat up. ‘You hit him? In the middle of Queensberry House?’
‘I hit him – in the middle of Queensberry House,’ he agreed, pulling her back beside him in order to continue beguiling her. ‘Crude, of course … but oddly satisfying. Harry was most impressed. But then, Harry would be.’
The levity was back in his voice and his fingers were trailing enticingly up her rib-cage. Not without difficulty, Adeline pursued a sudden thought.
‘Oh God – Nell! What have you done about Nell?’
‘Left her with Dominic and Rosalind – where she’ll stay until you and I return from our honeymoon.’
‘I don’t wish to cavil,’ she murmured unevenly, ‘but isn’t it a little late for that?’
‘Not at all. I want you to myself for a time. And how else are we to escape Lucilla?’ His knuckles brushed her breast with exquisite lightness making her breath catch. ‘I thought Paris ought to be far enough.’
Giving up the unequal struggle, Adeline turned towards him and slid her hands slowly up into his hair. ‘Anywhere you like.’
‘Paris, then,’ The dark eyes looked deep into hers. ‘And from there, as and when it pleases you, to a small farm that I know of in the region of Nevers where a certain very charming lady is waiting to meet you.’ He paused for one lingering kiss before stretching down to retrieve his maltreated coat from the floor. ‘Meanwhile, speaking of Paris … I bought something for you there that I’ve been carrying with me ever since, waiting for the perfect moment. And having you in my arms like this … with a look in your eyes that stops my heart … I can’t imagine a moment more perfect than this one.’ And he slid the ring on to her finger beside her wedding-band.
Tears misted her eyes, less at the beauty of the betrothal ring than the thought which, at that particular time, had prompted him to buy it. She said, ‘I don’t … I don’t know what to say to you.’
‘You could say ‘Thank you, Tracy – I’ll wear it always.’ Or you could simply kiss me. Or better still,’ he murmured with a disturbingly wicked smile as his hand slid enticingly down her body, ‘you could do both.’
So she did.
~ * * * ~
Author’s Note
The story of Amberley and Rosalind – and, of course, Broody the parrot - can be found in The Parfit Knight.
As a point of interest regarding Rock’s Christian name … are two possible derivations of the male form of Tracy. One is from Norman French, meaning ‘of the domaine of Thracius’; the other is Irish-Gaelic, meaning ‘warlike’.
The female form of the name did not become popular until 1940 with the advent of Tracy Samantha Lord in The Philadelphia Story.
Coming next …
A Splendid Defiance – a tale of love and conflict in the English Civil War.
Mesalliance Page 33