“That is kind of you, Cameron,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. “However, who will tend to the children if I leave?”
“You have hired Mrs. Detloff.”
“You cannot mean that! You were displeased your brother left his children with only servants to supervise their upbringing.” She frowned. “I did not think you would be as selfish as Russell.”
“Are you going to resort to name-calling now?”
“No.” She shoved his coat aside and picked up her shawl. “I am going to put an end to this conversation now before I say something that will only add to your childish fury.”
“Childish?”
“Yes.” She should not have said that, but she would not retract it.
Cameron bit back the words he wanted to speak, both the angry ones and the hurt ones. He longed to believe Tess when she said her actions had been misconstrued, for she had never given him cause to distrust her.
She is her father’s daughter. How many times had he heard that tonight? He had not guessed how many people abhorred Bernard Masterson. More than one had expressed curiosity about how Masterson had persuaded Cameron to wed his daughter. Others had looked hastily away at the question, clearly uncomfortable.
“If you have nothing more to say,” Tess said primly, “then I bid you good night.”
“Tess …”
She gazed at him with a warmth in her eyes that belied the venom in her voice. If he raised his arms, would she walk into them? And then what? Surrendering to his craving for her would complicate the situation even further.
“Good night,” he replied.
He listened to her steps flying up the stairs and cursed himself. He had seen the tears in her eyes. Blast it! He did not want to hurt her, either, but she was no longer satisfied with this mockery of a marriage.
Neither was he. He wanted more. He wanted her! Every inch of him ached with the need for this beautiful, passionate woman who dared him to unleash his own passions.
Angrily, he reached for the bottle of wine on the sideboard and emptied what was left into a glass. He swallowed it in one gulp, then asked himself for what must be the hundredth time why he baited her when he wanted to enjoy her company. Honesty told him he feared if he let her too close, he would lose his self-control. Then all the emotions he kept restrained would break free. And then …
He reached for the bellpull and jerked it so hard it nearly ripped from the wall. Too much of him had urged him to go to her and to tell her of the dreams that woke him at night with the longing to have her in his arms.
Only one thing would dissolve thoughts of her from his mind. When Harbour entered the parlor, Cameron snapped a series of orders. The butler stared before nodding and walking out of the room, and Cameron knew his majordomo was amazed at what had been ordered.
Cameron shrugged and went to sit by the window that overlooked the street. It was going to be a long night.
It was not sunshine that awoke Tess, for the draperies remained drawn. The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow that filtered through the heavy bed curtains. Its warmth was like a gentle caress against her. Not enough to bring her fully awake, but enough to warn that a sunny day waited on the other side of the window.
Lost in the twilight between night and the morning, she wished she could return to sleep. There, in her dreams, she could be dancing with Cameron and could pretend her heart’s hopes would not be dashed. He had been everything she had longed for in a suitor last night … until they had separated at the gathering. If she concentrated on his kindness, she did not have to think of his sarcasm. Nestling the remnants of her loving fantasies around her, she snuggled under the covers.
The need to sneeze intruded. She willed the irritation to vanish. Anything she did might sever the thread holding her to that oh-so-fleeting happiness. When the itch became unbearable, she reached up to rub her nose. Her fingers touched skin … that was not hers.
Her eyes flew open. Only her hand over her mouth muted her gasp.
Cameron!
What was he doing here?
His head was on the pillow. His eyes were closed, and he breathed slowly, deep in sleep. A night’s growth of beard outlined his strong jaw, which rested against her head. Her own cheek was lying on his shoulder.
His naked shoulder!
She stared across the breadth of his chest and the muscles that had been hinted at beneath his shirt. Her fingers splayed across that strong warmth before she could halt herself. He mumbled something in his sleep, and she froze.
How could he say what he had last night and then come here like this? If he had intended to seduce her, why hadn’t he awakened her instead of falling asleep at her side? If she did not know better, she would swear he was insane.
She tried to edge away so she could think more clearly. The masculine scent of his skin unsettled her more than she wanted to own. Her nightgown cut into her neck. A quick tug revealed the distressing truth. Cameron was lying atop one side of her nightgown, securing it to the bed.
Gently she shook his shoulder. “Cameron, wake up!”
He opened one eye a meager slit. His arm encircled her shoulders and drew her against his enticing chest. “Hush, sweetheart. Have sympathy for a man who drank too much last night.” He tilted her face toward him.
She gasped in astonishment and undeniable pleasure as his lips traveled along her cheek to nibble on her earlobe. She stiffened for the shortest second, but her longings betrayed her, and her arms slid up his back to enjoy each sinew. He claimed her lips, and his tongue darted between them to explore anew the pleasure within her mouth. The brush of his skin against hers created a yearning that ached to the very center of her soul. She wanted his lips on her, and his body firm against her, softening her with the heated fire of his kisses.
Her fingers sifted up through his hair as his mouth moved away from hers, down over her chin and along the lace on her nightgown. His kisses seared away the linen as if it did not exist. The hard line of his body pinned her to the bed as he pressed her more deeply into the pillows. Each motion brushed her against him, burnishing her with desire. She grasped his face and brought his lips back to hers.
The bed bounced once, then a second time. A finger tapped her shoulder as a young voice asked, “Can we see Heddy now?”
Tess turned her face to see Philip’s eager smile. The little boy was kneeling beside her. Donald was tugging on his brother’s shirt, but the younger boy paid him no attention.
“Can we see Heddy now?” Philip asked again as Cameron was turning her face toward his.
“Yes,” she whispered, edging away as far as she could from Cameron and taking care not to look back at him. Realizing that the top buttons of her nightgown were undone, she grasped the loosened bodice close to her. “Quiet now, and do not wake her if she is already asleep.”
“If she isn’t?” Philip asked.
“You can take her cage out into the other room and give her something to eat from the container by her cage. Just take care you do not let her out.”
With a whoop, the two boys ran to the table and looked under the cloth. Heddy must have been awake, because they carried the cage and the glass jar into the sitting room.
“Tess?” Cameron croaked in disbelief, as if seeing her for the first time.
“You must leave! Please!” She tried to slide farther away, but could not. “You have to move off my nightgown.”
“What are you doing here?” His bewilderment was evident.
“Me?” she squeaked. As he frowned, she lowered her voice to a whisper. She did not want to chance calling the boys back in here. “Cameron, why are you here? The door to the hall—”
“I know. You lock it every night.”
“You have tried before this to …” She could only stare at him.
“Do not be absurd! I do not sneak about in my own house like a thief.” He leaned back into the pillows and closed his eyes. “Harbour thought I would want to know.”
“So
how did you get in here?”
“The only other way is through the connecting door in the dressing room between these rooms and the ones I have been using.” He put his hands over his eyes and groaned. “I had a lot, a very lot, to drink with Eustace after you stormed out.”
“Eustace was here?”
“Yes. He thought I might want to be reassured my wife was not a coquette dallying with him last night. He brought a bottle of his best brandy to share. I remember only wanting to get to bed and sleep it off. I do not remember seeing you here.”
“Is this a habit with you?”
“No.” Looking out from beneath his hands, he said, “I know you have no reason to believe that, but I can assure you it is true. I am customarily very prudent about the amount I drink. I had planned to be last night, for I asked Harbour to bring me coffee, enough for the whole night, if necessary.” His forehead furrowed. “Odd, I do not recall having more than a glass or two with Eustace last night after you stormed out.”
Tess reached for her wrapper, but her hand was captured by Cameron’s broad fingers. Stretching out her other hand, she grabbed her wrapper and flung it over her shoulders. He yelped, and she knew it must have struck him in the face. She started to slide out of bed, but his arm encircled her waist, pulling her back.
“Stop!” she gasped. “This is the time to keep all such thoughts under your girdle.”
He laughed without humor. “An odd choice of words, Tess.” He released her as if he abruptly could not tolerate being near her.
She wanted to take back the words that had been aimed at his most vulnerable spot. Those words had been the very best way to guarantee she would drive him away.
And she had succeeded, for he sat and stretched, showing off far more of his muscular body than she had ever seen. Although she should have looked away, she could not help admiring his virile lines.
“Will you please go?” she whispered, unsure how long she could govern her longing and keep from touching him.
“Are you sure that is what you want?” he asked, leaning toward her.
She shrank back into the pillows, suddenly overwhelmed by his strength so close to her. “What I want? How can you ask that? If—”
Donald ran back into the room and cried, “Aunt Tess, come and tell Philip he should not be trying to touch Heddy.”
“You tell him to do as he should,” Cameron replied.
The little boy nodded, wide-eyed.
“And I should do the same,” Cameron continued, standing and reaching for his shirt to tuck into his breeches.
Tess sat, drawing up her knees. She folded her arms on top of them. Was Cameron waiting for her to say something? If she told him the truth, that she loved him, she wondered if he would rush away or draw her near.
The delighted shouts from the boys in the other room filled the silence before Cameron said, “We need to speak, Tess.”
“At breakfast might be wiser.”
“Yes.”
She hated when they spoke like polite strangers, but she only nodded. He held her gaze, then left. Hearing him talking to the boys, who were laughing with delight, she knew she should be pleased. She had hoped Donald and Philip would get over their awe of their uncle, and Cameron would come to see them as something other than a burden.
With a wry smile, she slid off the bed. She must not become so dreary that she ignored the serendipitous joys. She rang for Jenette.
As her abigail came into the room, Tess’s eyes alighted on a man’s dress collar by the bed. Cameron must have dropped it there last night. She forced an innocuous expression onto her face as she kicked the collar beneath the bed. Mayhap Jenette had not noticed it. Now was not the time for her abigail’s questions when she had so many of her own.
She had no need to worry, because Jenette could not keep from talking about how Park had taken her for a walk last evening. Although Tess should caution her abigail about being alone with Cameron’s valet, she simply listened until Jenette had finished brushing her hair and tying it back with a ribbon that matched Tess’s light green gown.
Tess had Donald bring Heddy’s cage back into her room, then took the boys to a second breakfast-parlor, which had been set up for the children soon after the boys’ arrival. It was a sunny room decorated in yellow. A small table was adorned with flowers and waiting dishes. On the sideboard, breakfast steamed, announcing its recent arrival from the kitchen.
Harbour greeted them with his usual smile as he motioned to the footmen to serve them a generous portion of the eggs, sausage, and muffins. Yet when she glanced at him when he thought she was not, she could see his smile waver. How much did the servants know of what had happened less than an hour ago?
While the boys talked, Tess sipped her coffee. Her thoughts were confused and contradictory. Her breakfast went untouched. Her accusation to Cameron could have been aimed at herself. His touch had teased her to lose control. It scared her she had been so ready to succumb to his seduction when he still spoke of their marriage as something that would not last. She had let herself be trapped in his embrace, where he smothered her with sweet words and honeyed caresses. She should have tried to escape, but she did not want to and now it might be too late to salvage her heart without damaging it.
She had fallen in love with this man who had made every effort to make her despise him. He might be cantankerous and as set in his ways as an old tough, but she could not deny Pamela Livingstone had been correct. Within him beat a kind heart that had prevented him from doing the sensible thing and denouncing her in a divorce petition.
She glanced at the boys who were now giggling over a joke. Cameron had opened his home to two little boys who complicated his life even more. Others would have turned away these children, who had no legitimate claim on the Hawksmoor name, but he had not.
Hands settled on her shoulders, and a sensation like a bolt of lightning cut through her, bringing her upright in her chair. She fought her desire to respond to the sensuality Cameron wrought in her with even such a chaste motion. Her fingers curled into fists as she struggled to rule her recalcitrant body.
Her dismay deepened when she saw Eustace come into the breakfast-parlor. She had not guessed he had stayed in the house overnight. If he had gone to Cameron’s rooms, he would have known Cameron was not in them early this morning. She took a sip of her coffee and told herself not to panic. Eustace’s eyes were droopy, suggesting he had just gotten out of bed.
“Good morning … again,” Cameron said in a near whisper as Eustace lumbered to where the newspaper was set on the table. “I would have been down sooner, but I had to send Park to retrieve my missing collar, and I believe he took advantage of the opportunity to flirt with your abigail.”
“I am glad someone has benefitted from …” She glanced at Eustace.
The footmen waited until Cameron sat. Then one placed a cup of coffee in front of him. He did not seem to hear when a maid asked what he would like for breakfast.
“You must be hungry, Cameron,” Tess said. “Can I have them fix you a plate of breakfast?” Her words sounded foolish, but she had to say something.
He looked up, startled. “Yes, thank you. Eustace, do not lurk over there. Sit and eat with us.”
“You are still in an atrocious mood this morning,” his friend replied. “I had not thought you could be in a worse one than you were last night.”
Cameron waved aside his words as he stirred cream into his cup. “Forget last night. It is over.” He glanced at Tess as he added, “I want to forget everything about it.”
Eustace seemed to take the order to heart, because he began to read the newspaper, aloud when he found what he clearly considered an interesting tidbit of poker-talk. If he noticed Tess said nothing, not even chiding him for his inappropriate comments when the boys were eagerly listening, he did not let it show.
Cameron had told her they would talk at breakfast, but there was no need. He had already made up his mind to pretend nothing unusual had happened. M
ayhap he could. She feared she could not any longer.
Sixteen
The tavern was in a section of London where the ton did not openly venture. That was why Cameron had disguised himself in clothes he had had his valet obtain from a cart not far from this place. If Park had been curious why Cameron wanted this ragged wool coat and the breeches with no buttons at the knees, the valet kept his questions to himself.
Cameron ignored the odors that reeked in every direction. The narrow street was shadowed by the buildings, which leaned over it as if they intended to meet. A single cart was being pulled along the street by a horse so thin every bone was revealed.
Ducking into the tavern marked by a sign stripped of any color by years of fog and smoke, he sat on a bench close to the door. Another man was perched on the bench and eyed him with a derisive grin.
“Fine day fer a glass of ale, eh?” asked the man.
Cameron motioned to the barman. Two mugs of ale were brought. Setting his on the thick windowsill, he watched the other man take an appreciative drink. His own head still recalled the thud left by the brandy he had used to ease his unhappiness two nights ago with Eustace. This cheap ale might bring that pain right back.
“Ye be wantin’ t’talk to someone?” asked the man.
Cameron nodded. Just opening his mouth would betray his origins. He could try to ape this man’s vulgar speech, but the ears of this section of London would note any error he made.
“I ’ear ye be lookin’ for me, Yer Grace.”
Cameron looked over his shoulder and saw another man. Rising, he went to a table and gestured toward the bench across from him. The man who slipped around the table with the grace of an alley cat appeared as out of place in this low tavern as Cameron did. His clothes were clean and free of patches. No beard hid his face, and a pair of glasses perched on the very edge of his nose.
“If you have the information I am seeking,” Cameron said quietly, “then you are the man I am looking for.”
“Ye be a mutton’ead to be pokin’ yer nose where it don’t belong.” He rubbed his chin, and Cameron noted the man was missing two fingers on his hand. The man glanced at his hand and grinned, revealing ragged teeth. “Could spin ye a tale of wot ’appens to them that pokes their noses into other’s business.”
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