Silver Sea

by Wright, Cynthia

  Adrienne listened with one ear to her ladyship's speech about the history of the college. She could see the Gothic buildings beyond a particularly lovely garden that made her think of Jane Austen, whose home adjoined those grounds. How much pleasure she must have taken from those bright flowers during her final summer.

  When they reached 8 College Street, Adrienne stared at the modest house. It was easy to imagine the invalid authoress sitting in the first-floor bow window and watching people walk where Adrienne now stood. "Do you suppose that she was happy here at all?"

  "She was only in residence from May until July," Lady Thomasina said in gloomy tones. "Dr. Lyford told me that he hoped to cure her and that she did walk about the rooms during the day. She took a sedan chair outdoors at least once...."

  The medieval Kingsgate was nearby, at the end of College Street, and Adrienne felt a chill under its shadowed arch. It was difficult to understand why someone as young and gifted as Jane Austen should die. "I suppose that she must not have known the end was near. I mean, she did come to Winchester to be near her physician, hoping for a cure...."

  Huntsford spoke up at last. "I say, too much doom and death for one day, don't you think? Why don't we bundle into the coach and go somewhere for a nice spot of sherry?"

  "I want to go inside the cathedral first," Adrienne said stubbornly.

  "Whatever for? Just a lot of flying buttresses or some such!"

  As they started north to the cathedral precincts, the berlin following at a distance, his mother whispered, "She wants to see her grave."

  "Grave! Bloody hell! Whose grave?"

  "Shh, Hunty!" Lady Thomasina gave him a pinch. "Show a little consideration for Miss Beau's sensibilities."

  Those words broke through to him. Adrienne had paused to wait for them in front of the cathedral, and Harms took that opportunity to mend his image. He strode toward Adrienne and said, "You're very considerate of Mummy. She does like the security of one of us on each side."

  Adrienne was looking particularly fetching in a lilac-hued promenade dress with a matching bonnet lined with white satin. Gazing up at the cathedral, she seemed oblivious to his words. "Isn't it spectacular?" She turned sparkling green eyes toward Lady Thomasina. "I am anxious to know more."

  "I find that I am growing tired, Miss Beau. My legs, you know. I believe I'll take a seat on this bench, and you go inside with Hunty. He'll be your guide."

  "Oh, my lady, I couldn't leave you—"

  "I insist. Hunty, do assert yourself."

  He seized the moment, clasping Adrienne's hand around his arm with authority. "Don't argue, Miss Beauvisage. Mummy wouldn't send us off without her if she didn't truly want it." Strolling into the great nave of the cathedral, his mind went blank. Finally, he confessed that although he'd heard the history of the grand building many times he remembered nothing.

  Adrienne found herself quite taken with this uncertain side of Huntsford Harms. He was usually so self-important and vain, two qualities that she found terribly dull, but the sight of him blushing and admitting that he was not a very fit cathedral guide endeared him to her.

  "Never mind, my lord. We'll learn together."

  He basked in the light of her smile. "Call me Huntsford. We are friends, are we not?"

  "Yes, of course, and you must call me Adrienne."

  As they rambled together through the long nave, she gleaned bits of the cathedral's story by listening to other visitors. "The transepts are Norman, of course," whispered one man, while a tall young lady informed a group of children that the nave, with its intricate web of fan vaulting, was the work of William of Wykeham.

  "Did you hear that?" Huntsford murmured, bending close to Adrienne's ear. "That fellow certainly was busy! Seems to me he was a bishop."

  "There, you see," she teased. "You do remember something!"

  They tried with limited success to stifle their laughter, since every sound was magnified to an appalling degree inside the cathedral. An elderly couple standing nearby gave them stern glances, and Adrienne bit her lip.

  They found the slab marking Jane Austen's grave in the north aisle of the nave. Seeing his companion's solemn expression, Huntsford put on a suitably respectful attitude. His throat was dry, however, and he badly craved a drink. Moments later he guided her out into the sunshine.

  "I had wanted to see the mortuary chests of the Anglo-Saxon kings," Adrienne said with a note of longing. "There is so much history in Winchester! I've heard that there is a Round Table displayed in the old Norman castle not far from here, and some believe it was the one King Arthur used. I don't suppose..."

  "Dear friend, I should love nothing more than a visit to the Great Hall to view the Round Table, but I fear that we must save that for another day, when we are not accompanied by Mummy." Huntsford feigned disappointment. "Shall we have an outing of our own very soon? Perhaps on Tuesday? We'll do anything you like."

  "Yes. I accept with pleasure." As they walked back toward Lady Thomasina, Adrienne continued to chatter about the legends of King Arthur, and Huntsford made charming replies. His eyes caressed her attentively, and it occurred to her that it was enjoyable to be treated thus. Nathan, on the other hand, was arrogant, cynical, and apt to behave as if she were a mischievous child rather than a beautiful, fascinating woman.

  "Ah, there you are, you two!" Lady Thomasina could not have looked more smug if they'd appeared wearing wedding rings. "Clearly, you are getting on very well. I knew that Hunty needed more intellectual stimulation than those other gooseish girls could provide."

  "Mummy, do try to contain yourself," he said, smiling through clenched teeth. "You'll frighten her away."

  "Nonsense!" Adrienne's tone was cheerful. She took her ladyship's other arm and together they hefted her to her feet. "Shall we treat ourselves to tea at the Wessex? I hear they have lovely little cakes and sweets."

  "Why not champagne?" Huntsford suggested.

  The mood was nearly euphoric as the trio started down the footpath toward Kingsgate Street and their waiting berlin. Then Adrienne happened to look off across the cathedral grounds. A man was striding toward them, pushing aside the branches of a red oak tree that had grown across his path.

  Could it be...?

  "Adrienne!" the man called. Emerging into the sunlight, he raised a hand to her.

  "We mustn't dawdle," Lady Thomasina cautioned. The berlin was just a few steps away. The coachman opened the door as they approached.

  "Nathan!" Without a thought, she released Lady Thomasina's arm and ran toward him, skirts raised. It was the most amazing thing—Adrienne's entire body was transformed by his presence. Her face was warm, her heart raced, and a certain joy rushed through her veins so that she tingled as she drew near to Nathan.

  "How many times have I told you not to go off without me?" he scolded, his handsome face forbidding. He reached out and grasped her arm with one hand, as if to assure himself that it was indeed she, and that she was whole and safe. "I cannot turn my back for one hour—"

  "Why are you so relentlessly horrid?" Adrienne tried to turn away from him, pouting. "How could I have imagined that I missed you today?"

  Behind her, his expression softened. "Missed me, did you? What exactly did you miss?"

  She felt his chest graze her back, and a jolting weakness overtook her. "Don't be impossible. I—I was simply looking forward to our outing. I had the mad idea that you and I would have fun, but clearly you were otherwise occupied with that suspicious fellow you call your cousin!"

  "Devil take it, we weren't supposed to come into Winchester until tomorrow! If I'd guessed that you would go off and throw yourself in the way of danger—"

  "Huntsford has protected me very nicely"

  Nathan could scarcely refrain from picking her up and carrying her off. It was particularly maddening to realize that the Harmses were watching. "So, it's Huntsford now? If you are harboring any notion that he can be trusted to look after you, kindly dispel it immediately!"

 
; "I think you are jealous!" Eyes flashing, Adrienne turned back just in time to see the exposed emotion in his face. Every nerve in her body ached for his embrace, longed to taste his kiss....

  Several dozen yards away, Lady Thomasina cuffed her son's arm. "Aren't you going to intervene?"

  His thoughts were far away, with Walter Frakes-Hogg. It seemed that all the pieces had shifted since the night at the White Ostrich, when he'd promised to kill Nathan Essex. He had never had much hope of doing that, for there was an excellent chance that the bigger man would instead kill him in self-defense. It had seemed wise to agree, though, and stall as long as possible, for he didn't trust Frakes-Hogg to treat him fairly in any event.

  Harms also feared that, after he'd been employed to murder the Scapegrace, he might be murdered himself just to keep the loose ends tidy. Frakes-Hogg had taken great pains to make certain no one knew he was even in Winchester, let alone associated with Harms. If Huntsford had an "accident," who would suspect Walter Frakes-Hogg?

  Adrienne had been a happy diversion from these problems, and his new feelings for her were entirely unexpected. Now, watching Adrienne with Essex, his heart sank. The first step toward shifting the balance would be for Huntsford to prove to Adrienne that he could be just as strong and protective as Essex.

  He took snuff and tried to ignore his mother's voice. Perhaps there was a way for Huntsford to correct Adrienne's image of him, drive a wedge between her and Essex, and eliminate the problem of Walter Frakes-Hogg, all at the same time....

  * * *

  Adrienne allowed Alistair to pour more claret into her glass, and she drank it, then yawned. "I'm not much good to you tonight, I'm afraid."

  Across the card table, Huntsford examined a fingernail. "It's all the same anyway. The games, I mean."

  Alistair rolled his eyes. "I've known you all my life, Harms, and you've never been bored by gaming, drinking, or—"

  "Did I solicit your opinion?" he snapped. "You've had too much to drink. Again."

  "So have I," Lady Clair admitted. She propped an elbow on the table and cupped her chin.

  "Would you mind if I bid you all good night? It's been a very busy day." Adrienne pushed her chair back.

  Following her to the door, Huntsford hovered, wondering what she was thinking. "You haven't forgotten our engagement on Tuesday? I hope you won't change your mind—"

  "No... although I don't know what Mr. Essex will say. As long as he believes I am in danger, he doesn't like to let me out of his sight."

  "Didn't I protect you today?" Huntsford was agitated, but tried to censor himself. Soon enough he'd put his plan into action, and then the tables should turn.

  "Yes, you protected me splendidly." Smiling, Adrienne added, "I am grateful, and so very sleepy. Listen to the clock; it is midnight! Good night, Huntsford." With that, she slipped out the door. Carrying a chamberstick, she let the candle's sputtering flame guide her up the back staircase.

  On the landing, a window was open to admit wafts of fragrant night air. The breeze extinguished Adrienne's candle but ignited the passions she'd kept in check all evening.

  All her pulse points throbbed with anticipation. During the hours of cards with Huntsford and his friends, Adrienne had dreamed of what she would do later. And now, later had come. She'd been feeling wild all day, particularly since her scene with Nathan on the cathedral grounds, and the claret had emboldened her further.

  Adrienne was tired of behaving herself, tired of reining in her passions. And, in her heart, she knew that Nathan felt the same. She'd seen the fire in his eyes that very afternoon, and his fingers had sent currents of heat through her body. Something had to give. Tonight.

  * * *

  Before he opened his eyes, Raveneau could smell jasmine, sweet and heavy on the warm air that lapped through the window opposite his bed.

  He'd heard something, but perhaps it had come from outside. Years as the captain of his own ship had refined his ability to come awake immediately, with his senses alive.

  What had it been? A dream? Nathan nearly let himself sink back into a cushion of sleep but managed first to open his eyes. Moonlight, silvery white and laced with garden scents, washed over his bed. Through the shimmery haze, Raveneau saw Adrienne.

  Visionlike, she stood near enough to touch. Her hair was loose, the cognac-hued curls spilling over her pale shoulders, framing her exquisite face. She was wearing white lawn. Soft as gossamer, the gown was diaphanous. Nathan soundlessly drew breath at the sight of her body outlined against the moonlight, curving in a way that made his groin clench with need.

  Adrienne hesitated, thinking. She had been about to steal into his bed, but now, clearly, he was awake and as moments passed, Nathan's eyes opened wider and he slowly rose on one elbow. It was a warm night; he was naked down to the white sheet that rippled across his belly and hid the rest of him.

  Often she had wondered about his body, but it was more splendid than her virginal imaginings. He was dark against the bedclothes. The muscled contours of his shoulders, chest, and arms drew her eyes, and then mysterious feelings tightened inside Adrienne's body. Little hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Looking at his shadowed face, she found it hard to breathe, and the sight of Nathan's appealing mussed black hair caused her to stretch out a hand.

  "What's wrong?" he said softly. "Are you in danger?"

  She flushed. "No. I came—to be with you."

  His voice turned rough. "You are mad."

  "No." Kneeling on the edge of his bed, she slid her fingers into his shining hair. "Not mad."

  "Go back to your own room. I am not a treat you can demand at will—like a hand-painted fan—"

  Adrienne nearly laughed aloud at his audacity. Bending near his shoulder, she murmured, "If you imagine that you can deter me with insults, be warned that I am too smart for your tricks."

  "No? They always worked before." He bit back a smile.

  "It's time for the games to end, don't you think? I have the feelings of a woman, and I want them resolved."

  "Oh. Good God." She smelled enchanting. When Adrienne trailed her hand through the crisp dark hair covering his chest, Nathan groaned. It had been long weeks since he'd been with any woman, and more and more he hungered for this impossible minx. "Adrienne..."

  "Oh." Inexplicably, tears crowded her throat. "Yes!" She slid into his open arms and found that lying against Nathan's male body was bliss in itself. He felt unyielding yet warm and welcoming. It seemed that she belonged there, and both of them knew it. "Nathan, ever since that night in the garden—"

  "Damn. I know." The words burned his throat. If she made him talk, he'd have to think, and that wouldn't do. "Shh." He caressed the lines of her back and bottom through the lawn nightgown. Adrienne, incurably impetuous, crawled higher, wound her arms round his neck, and began to kiss him. It was a bold experiment. With her tongue touching his and her breasts crushed against his chest, Nathan felt as if he were drowning in a sea of passion. He found the hem of her gown and pulled upward. She moaned.

  Trouble, trouble, a voice warned Nathan from deep inside. Physical need had a louder voice, however.

  "Oh, oh, you taste delicious," Adrienne managed to whisper. She found herself making little sounds that she didn't recognize, but they didn't seem to bother him a bit. He held her hard against him with one hand, while the other found its way under her nightgown and cupped her backside. Just the sensation of his powerful hand, inches from the source of her need, made her suddenly hotter and moister. She had an urge to push against him but didn't know what it meant.

  "You're certain—" Nathan drew back for a moment, staring into her eyes, and the fire flared brighter between them. "If you're not, just say so."

  "I want you. I want this more than anything in the world."

  If he'd been in his right mind, Raveneau would have taken those words as a strong warning, but he couldn't think. He rolled Adrienne over into the pillows and tugged the gown over her head. His gaze was like a brand, sea
ring the halo of moonlit hair around her face and the irresistible curves of her breasts and hips. He hardly dared look lower in search of the place he wanted to be so much it hurt...

  "You are too, too beautiful."

  "No," she argued, "you are." The sight of him braced above her was frighteningly stirring. Adrienne splayed her hands over his chest and felt her own nipples tighten in response. Her eyes strayed lower, and she glimpsed his manhood, poised in the shadows like a weapon. Indeed, she had never imagined—

  Nathan kissed her slowly, savoring each sweet touch of their tongues. He used his lips like warm feathers, brushing the hollows of her face, her throat, her inner arms, and between her fingers. Adrienne's muted groans became less human-sounding. He feasted gently on each of her breasts, alternately suckling and teasing, until she arched against him and nearly climaxed without understanding. His own need was almost beyond bearing.

  She opened her thighs to him in welcome. He touched her and she shuddered, panting.

  "Christ, you're wet—"

  "Please, Nathan." She savored his name. "Nathan... Essex."

  Raveneau had never wanted anything more in his life than to be inside Adrienne. He wanted something beyond mating, and the strength of that need, coupled with the sound of a false name, worked on him like a bucket of ice. Everything else rushed over him then: his obligation to protect her, his promise to Nicholai to keep his daughter virtuous until her twenty-first birthday, and the harsh realization that Adrienne might well be in love with him. No, not with him... Nathan Essex.

  What would the dawn bring? If he continued and met his immediate needs, Nathan would have a new set of problems on the morrow. Serious problems. Once a man's word was broken and his honor discarded, what good was he?

  "I can't."

  "Yes! I'll help you."

  Her soft hand, reaching downward, was like a flame to be avoided at all costs. "That sort of help is not what I need." He pushed himself away, out of danger. Lying beside Adrienne, he smoothed back her hair. She was staring at him in disbelief. "Thank God I came to my senses."