by April Munday
“Wait!”
He stopped.
“Let there be no misunderstanding,” she said as he pulled back so that he could look her in the face. “I love you. I have loved you from the start.”
His serious, slightly fearful expression didn’t change.
“Good,” he said and kissed her.
Mary clung to him as he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her brow, her neck and back to her mouth. He did this with as much passion and enthusiasm as he did everything else and her body responded. When he pushed through her lips with his tongue, she almost resisted, but coherent thought was impossible. Her last conscious decision was that he should have whatever pleasure he wanted from her.
Finally he stopped and rested his forehead against hers and she remembered how tired he’d been when he’d come into her bedroom. She clutched him to her more tightly for fear he’d want to leave her to go to his own room and she would lose him on the way.
“Mary,” he said, “my Mary.”
He was as breathless as she was.
“Yours for always.”
“I should go,” he said, but made no move to do so. Instead he eased a hand down her back to her bottom. In response, she pressed herself closer against him. He felt wonderful, firm and strong.
“Stay a while longer,” she said, hoping not to break whatever spell it was that held him there.
“Forever, if I could.”
“I won’t send you away.”
He kissed her again, with more abandon and his hands explored her body until she could bear it no longer. She broke away from him with a sigh, but still he wanted more. Hardly knowing what she did anymore, she pulled his shirt from his breeches and put her hands on his skin. He responded by kissing her neck, undoing the top of her nightgown and kissing her breasts.
“Oh!” she breathed at the unexpected pleasure.
Finch stopped what he was doing and straightened.
“Did you mean it?”
He was breathless and insistent.
“What?”
“That you wouldn’t send me away?”
For a moment she was confused, then she understood.
“Sit here, while I lock the doors.”
He did as she asked and she locked both doors, then returned to kneel at his feet to remove his boots. He was almost too tired to undress, but they managed it between them. His body was more muscular than she had expected, marred only by the ugly scar where he had been shot. Tentatively she reached out her hand.
“I trust you,” he said.
Instead of touching him, she knelt and kissed the puckered skin. She knew by his sigh that she had done the right thing. He pulled her to her feet.
“Your turn,” he said, tugging lightly on her nightgown.
She felt no shame before him and pulled her nightgown over her head.
For a moment he looked at her and smiled.
“I’m tired,” he said regretfully, “too tired.”
“Then sleep,” she said. “We can talk in the morning.”
He kissed her, holding her against him. When she shivered with desire, he paused.
“I wasn’t thinking about talking.”
“It can all wait,” she said. “Just sleep.”
Then he held out his hand to her and he pulled her gently towards the bed. Once settled in it, he drew her against his uninjured side so that she put her head on his chest with an arm draped over his body.
“Comfortable?”
“Wonderfully.”
And she was. She felt his fingers in her hair, then they stilled and his breathing slowed. She thought he was asleep.
“That kiss,” he said drowsily, “you do know it was a proposal of marriage.”
She smiled, allowing her lips to brush his skin so that he would know she did so.
“Yes, I understood that.”
“Of course. You wouldn’t have let me into your bed otherwise. “
Whether she would have done or not, she reflected, he would not have got into her bed with her if he hadn’t been sure he was going to marry her. A man who was prepared to live apart from the woman he loved for fear of what he might do was not going to ruin her.
“And you understood that I accepted.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He dozed again and Mary allowed herself to drift.
“That woman.”
She was alert again.
“We were not lovers. There was never anyone apart from Emily.”
“Thank you for telling me.” She stretched up and kissed his lips. “Now, sleep. You’re exhausted.”
“Will you be here when I wake?”
“Where will I go?” Then she relented. “Of course I’ll be here.”
She nestled against him and stayed awake until she knew he really slept, then she joined him.
When Mary woke it was daylight. She was still in Finch’s arms. She had no idea how much time had passed, but suspected it was late morning or early afternoon. Finch, Edmund she corrected herself, was still asleep.
Carefully she pulled the blankets tighter around them. The fire had gone out long ago and no one had come to relight it. She was so grateful that no one had tried to come into the room that she forgot to wonder why they had kept away.
Her hand rested again on Finch’s chest and she began to trace the outlines of his muscles with her forefinger. It would take time for him to get back to his full health, but there was still enough strength in his body to amaze her.
“Mmm.”
She froze.
“Don’t stop. I was enjoying it.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to know that I was enjoying it.”
Mary started her gentle exploration again and neither of them spoke. His skin was warm, warmer, she thought, than her own.
“Ah.”
She pulled her hand away. It was close to his wound and she thought she had hurt him.
“No,” he said with a tension in his voice she had never heard before. “Let me guide you.”
He caught her hand and replaced it where it had been. With renewed confidence she stroked him and kissed him. His hands on her body were more knowing and she soon lost her concentration.
Finch laughed.
“Oh, my love, I’m glad that you learn quickly.”
He pulled her up to his lips and kissed her. When he had her comfortable against his chest again, he said, “I slept well. Did you?”
“Yes. I hadn’t slept much while you were gone.”
“I’m sorry to have given you cause for alarm, but you knew I was well.”
She had not known he was well. He had looked fragile in that woman’s cellar, although she could now see that he had been terribly afraid for her. For two days she had wondered what he had meant by ‘cleaning up’ the house and why no one else could do it. What she had guessed had scared her and whatever he had done had exhausted him. Most of all she had been afraid that someone would discover him there.
“I wasn’t sure if someone had come upon you. You could have been hanged for murder.”
“Oh, my dear, I could have spared you that worry. I told you they were agents of the French.”
“But you couldn’t prove it.”
“As it happens, I could. I found plenty of proof in that house.”
He clasped her roving hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips.
“I have a secret to share that you must keep to yourself.”
“Is it to do with this?”
She squeezed the hand that had held hers, the one that was damaged and useful for very little.
“What do you think you know?”
“Lord Meldon said you were good at keeping secrets, even if you were beaten. I wondered if you hadn’t been tortured.”
He used the other hand to pull her closer against him.
“This is a terrible war, my love. Perhaps we should have discussed this last night. It’s still not too late to change your mind.”
“I accept that there will be things about you I may not know and things you will do that would terrify me if I suspected them.”
“Won’t you always be afraid? I don’t want that for you.”
“The day I first entered your house was the day I stopped being afraid. My parents were murdered and I have hidden ever since, but you have given me security.”
“That security must be disturbed,” he said, touching her back lightly with his fingertips. “I cannot stay in London, for you and Freddie would be in constant danger.”
“I want nothing other than to be with you.”
She felt his hesitation and kissed his chest. A shock of surprise ran through his body.
“I knew you were right from the moment we met. I should have trusted that instinct rather than my baser ones.” He sighed apologetically. “I’m a spy. I’m not supposed to tell you, but I told Emily and you should know.” He paused. “I have lied to you, but I shall not do so again. I shall keep nothing secret. I do not demand, or even ask, the same from you.”
“But you shall have it. I lied to you the day we met and continued in that lie.”
“Since we are two such thoroughly reformed characters, will you marry me?”
“You asked me last night.”
“It was hardly a conventional proposal.”
She laughed.
“Do you consider this a conventional proposal?”
She drew her fingers down his body, stopping when he groaned.
“I love you very much,” he said, “and you deserve a formal proposal.”
“I accept,” she whispered against his ear.
“I’ve told her,” said Finch when he and Meldon sat together after what was for him breakfast, but seemed to be a completely different meal for Meldon.
“Told who what?”
“Mary, Miss Wilding, that is, that I’m a spy.”
“Oh, was that necessary?”
“It was if I’m to continue to be one after we’re married.”
“Oh!”
“Yes, indeed.”
“You’ve proposed?”
“And been accepted.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“I believe you should congratulate me.”
“Of course.”
“Yet?”
Visibly Meldon struggled with something.
“I don’t suppose you know how cruel you’re being.”
“Cruel?”
This wasn’t the reaction Finch had expected.
“She loves you, you know.”
“Yes.” Finch smiled, “I do know.”
“Then why do it? You can protect her quite adequately without... Oh, foolish of me. Congratulations.” Meldon beamed, “Congratulations, Edmund.”
“Thank you.”
They sat in companionable silence until Lady Anna found them.
“Where’s Miss Wilding?” she asked them. “She’s not with Freddie.”
“I told the servants not to disturb her or Finch, so that they could get as much sleep as they needed. She barely slept while you were gone,” said Meldon to Finch.
“She told me, when I went to see Freddie.”
Lady Anna turned her perceptive gaze on him and he bore it as well as he could. It was as much as he could do not to confirm her suspicions with a nod, but he didn’t. She knew what had happened between him and Mary as if he had announced it from the rooftops, which had been his first inclination.
“We are engaged to be married.”
“Not a moment too soon.”
“You’re not surprised!” Meldon was crestfallen.
Lady Anna did not smile, as Finch had expected. She enjoyed perceiving things that her husband did not.
“You don’t know how long you have loved her, do you?”
Finch was taken aback by the question.
“Of course I do.”
She shook her head.
“You know only when you recognised your love. You were in love with her at least by the time you introduced her to us.”
Finch thought back and shook his head. “I was still in love with that woman.”
“And is it not possible to love two women at the same time?”
Finch opened his mouth to reply and thought better of it, for she was not talking about the Frenchwoman.
“Let’s sit. Miss Wilding will join us when she’s ready,” said Meldon, seeing that the conversation had faltered.
“Is it over now?” asked Lady Anna when they had made themselves comfortable.
Both men looked at her.
“I don’t know,” said Meldon, eventually.
“No,” said Finch.
“They came after you,” said Lady Anna.
“Yes, they did.” Over the last two days he had thought a great deal about how he could tell them this. “Very well. Your brother, Lady Anna, was a spy. You know that. He worked with me and that’s why they were suspicious of Meldon, because they were friends and together a lot.”
Meldon had suspected that a spy in his household had passed information about his activities to the French and had also sent Lady Anna’s brother to his death. Finch had spent most of the last year trying to identify the spy and had found his name in the Frenchwoman’s papers. He had left it to Meldon to deal with the man, but Finch had already been betrayed and no harm could come of his telling Lady Anna what was already known to the French.
“We’ll leave George out of this,” she said. “Whatever he did before, he is blameless now.”
Finch paused. He had hoped to absolve his friend of all blame, but Lady Meldon seemed to be ahead of him.
“I thought that Rivers’ death had solved all our problems,” he continued, “but it seems that it only increased them. Someone must have missed him and placed him at Meldon Hall.”
A year ago Lady Anna had killed Carstairs, a French agent who had been sent to watch Meldon. Rivers, a more senior agent, had tracked Lady Anna down as the most likely recipient of her brother’s information and Meldon had killed him.
“Your brother was good, but too proud and too confident. I’m sorry, but he put the rest of us in danger. Who knows what he gave away when he was tortured?”
He saw Lady Anna pale. He was certain she had known about the torture. Uncertainly he looked at Meldon, who nodded.
“He didn’t give away my lord. They weren’t sure about him,” she said.
Finch risked another glance at his friend. How much had he admitted to his wife? He saw Meldon shake his head slightly.
“He couldn’t have given away Meldon, because Meldon wasn’t in our circle.” Another lie. He must still have a sliver of a soul if it hurt so much to lie to a friend. “I think he gave me away. I thought Rivers was the leader. When Meldon killed him I thought it was all over, but I was wrong. They sent that woman for me and it was very clever. They meant to show that I was unreliable because I was the lover of a French agent. It was all in the papers in her house. If we had become lovers they would have made me useless by making it public. They knew me well enough to know that I would admit it if it were true, but not well enough to know that I wouldn’t make her my mistress. When that failed I think she simply panicked and wanted to hurt me.” He paused and looked at Meldon as if for absolution. “She was beautiful and witty and clever and sympathetic. What more could a man want in a woman?”
“Honesty,” said Lady Anna.
“Integrity,” said Meldon at the same time.
Finch smiled.
“She was bewitching, but false. Everything was wrong. A woman born in England who had such a strong French accent. Someone with no friends or money who lived better than a gentlewoman. A Frenchwoman who wanted revenge on her entire country. A woman who professed her love for me, but could not remember my son’s name.”
“She was playing a complicated game,” said Meldon.
“I was to be seduced and then denounced as the lover of a French spy. It would have made me unusable and thrown dou
bt on everything I’ve done since I met her. I even have the letter ordering my own death when that failed.” He patted his pocket absently. “I know who was controlling her. There was even a portrait of him at her house. His name is Joude. I have to find him and stop him. I can’t protect Mary and Freddie forever.”
“To say nothing of protecting England,” said Lady Anna.
Finch sat up straighter. “You’re right, Lady Anna. That’s my primary duty.”
“Then we have to make sure that there’s no threat to you... to any of us. It’s not over for us either, is it?” Lady Anna sounded frightened and Meldon crossed the room to put his arm around her.
“We are at war, my love. None of us is safe until the war is over.”
“That doesn’t help Mr Finch.”
They both looked at him.
The door opened and Mary entered. Finch stood and went to her.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve told Lord and Lady Meldon.”
Mary smiled.
“Of course I don’t mind.”
“I’m so very happy for you,” said Lady Anna.
Mary smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Now we must take our leave of you,” said Finch.
“Are you well enough to return home?”
That wasn’t the question to which Lady Anna wanted an answer.
“We’re leaving London. I’m afraid we’re going into hiding. It’s the best way to keep Mary and Freddie safe.”
“Then you won’t be writing,” said Meldon, “I won’t know...”
“No, you won’t. If it were just me...”
Meldon nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
How bitter this farewell was, thought Finch.
“And the wedding?” asked Lady Anna, as if she were oblivious to her husband’s pain.
“We will present ourselves to the elders today and ask to be married tomorrow morning. They know Mary, since she has been taking Freddie to meetings while I’ve been recovering. They know her character and will agree to marry us tomorrow.” At her blank look he explained, “I’m a Quaker. We don’t need a special licence.”
He looked at Mary, who nodded. He would have preferred to leave today, for they had already made promises to one another and he knew that she considered herself as much his wife as he considered himself her husband, but they were not married according to the law and he would not have any of their children suffer.