Velvet Night (Author's Cut Edition)

by Jo Goodman

  “That must be when I came downstairs. I could find neither of you in the ballroom. There were no other highwaymen anywhere.”

  “That would account for me, but Nick’s costume was that of a devil.”

  “He told me that, but I have found it hard to credit. In my dream he is always a highwayman,” she said.

  “I think we both agree now that there are serious distortions of events in your dreams,” he said gently. “But perhaps you were there then because I found Nick in the study, brooding over a half-finished tumbler of whiskey. I did not need to be his closest friend for twelve years to know something was troubling him.”

  “Did he tell you what it was?” Kenna asked, fearing the worst.

  “His brooding had nothing to do with why your father sent for me,” Rhys told her. “With Nicholas it was women. It was always women with your brother.”

  “Poor Nick.”

  “Poor Nick, indeed,” Rhys said dryly. “This time he had foolishly allowed himself to be involved with a married woman.”

  Kenna gasped. “Who?”

  “He would not say. He told me her identity did not matter in the least because he was calling an end to their affair that very evening.”

  “Then she was at the masque!”

  “It would appear so. And you can keep your next question to yourself, for I haven’t any idea who the woman was. Much later that night, hours after we had found you in the cave, Nick told me that he had put a period to their relationship.”

  “He told me there had been other mistakes with women of good birth and breeding,” said Kenna. “It’s how he justifies his penchant for actresses and opera singers.”

  “I know. Nick has not been so fortunate as I.”

  “Nor I,” she said. “What happened after you left Nick in the study?”

  “I mingled with the guests. It was deuced difficult to keep a watch. They were flitting here and there, leaving the ballroom for trysts in other parts of the house. Your father needed more assistance than just me. I stationed myself near the entrance to the ballroom at one point and my vigilance reaped results almost immediately. I saw a man dressed in rogue’s garb leave the gallery, brush past Henderson, and go outside.”

  “That was me!”

  “I didn’t know that at the time. If I had I would have stopped you and sent you to your room. I thought I was witnessing the guest whom your father suspected would meet with the French. You must admit your movements bore me out.”

  “You followed me!”

  “Naturally. First you went toward Dunnelly’s gate but when you got there you paused, looking around as if you thought you might be followed. When you thought yourself alone you circled around the south wing of the manor and went toward the summerhouse. I knew of the steps leading from the summerhouse to the beach and I assumed that is how you were going to arrive at your meeting place.”

  Kenna’s eyes widened as she listened to the meaning Rhys had attached to her innocent movements of that night. In his place she would have been equally suspicious.

  Rhys continued quietly. “I went back into the manor to tell Robert what I had seen but he was no longer in the ballroom. Yvonne was still there though, so I took her firmly in hand and led her straight to her room. After I left her I caught a glimpse of your father turning the corner to the south wing and I followed. When I arrived in the south corridor your father had disappeared and I had to open a number of doors before I discovered where he had gone. Did you never know about the passage?”

  It seemed impossible that Kenna’s eyes could grow even rounder, but they did. “Passage?” she choked on her surprise. “What passage?”

  “Well, there is a wonder,” said Rhys. “Amazing, considering the number of hours you used to spend exploring Dunnelly. The third bedchamber on the left has a wall with a false panel. It can be removed without much difficulty if one knows the trick of it. I didn’t then, of course, but Robert had been in too much of a hurry to secure the panel behind him so I was able to follow. There is a narrow spiral staircase which winds between Dunnelly’s walls. Far below me I could see the light Robert carried. You cannot know how many times I wish I had had the foresight to have brought such a light myself. Once Robert’s lantern vanished and I could not see my hand in front of my face. I found my way by keeping one arm in front of me and one on the wall.”

  “Why didn’t you call to him to wait for you?”

  “I did. Several times. If he heard he gave no sign of it. I kept to my path but my progress was slow and it was only when I reached the bottom of the stairs that I realized where the passage was leading me.”

  “To the caves,” Kenna said on a breath of air. “I had always imagined there was a way, but…” her voice trailed off. “What then?”

  “I kept walking until I reached a dead end, or so it appeared to me. It was a small chamber with no way out except by the way I came in. I thought I had taken a wrong turn and was about to retrace my steps when I heard voices on the other side of the chamber. If I had had a lantern of my own or had had the luck to stumble upon the one your father had snuffed and left behind mayhap I would have found the way out of the chamber. I had never experienced such helplessness as I knew then. All I could do was listen to the raised voices and nothing I heard was clear.” His voice deepened as the ache in his throat conveyed his pain at the memory. “Nothing. Until the shots echoed in the chamber.”

  “Oh, Rhys.” She felt his pain as keenly as she felt her own. Without hesitation she went into his arms, offering and receiving comfort in the healing circle of his embrace.

  Rhys’s chin rested against her soft red-gold hair. “I broke two knuckles beating uselessly on the face of that damn rock before a measure of sanity returned. By that time there were no more sounds coming from the chamber, but I would not let myself believe anything had happened to Robert. I forced myself to calm and waited interminable minutes for your father to return by the same method he exited. I did not know then that it would have been impossible, even if he were alive. After the stone has been rolled back the only exit from the chamber is by the beach. When Robert did not reappear and I could still find no way to reach the outer chamber I returned to the south wing. I was on my way to search for him when Yvonne stopped me in the corridor, asking if I had seen you. I confess I hadn’t much patience for her and would not have paid her any heed if she hadn’t finally blurted out that she thought you had gone to the masque after all—dressed as a highwayman.”

  “And you knew—”

  Rhys nodded. “I knew then it was you I had seen and wondered why I hadn’t guessed it before. Your stride, your profile, it was somehow familiar, yet I ignored the signs. I remember running for the caves, praying all the while you had only gone as far as the summerhouse, that you had not accidentally stumbled into the dangerous situation below. I caught sight of Victorine in the garden, in earnest conversation with your brother, the devil. I yelled to Nick to bring several servants, a lantern, and meet me at the cave entrance, then I went on. A quick search of the summerhouse revealed you were not there and, fearing the worst, I headed down to the beach. It was deserted. No ship was in sight, no boat, no sign of the men your father had argued with. Even the footprints had been obliterated. The tide was coming in and I waited for Nick as long as I dared, calling for you and Robert all the while. When Nick did not appear soon enough to suit me I entered the cave. You know what I found.”

  She shuddered in his embrace, chilled by the memory. Her escape was more narrow than she had imagined.

  Rhys’s hand slid soothingly along Kenna’s spine, warming her. “Your screams led me to you else I would have taken the wrong passage. When I finally reached you, you were unconscious. There was nothing I could do for your father, Kenna.”

  “I know,” she said sadly. “He was already dead when I found him.”

  “I carried you out and met Nicholas in the passage. The servants brought your father out. Nick wanted to take you from me, but—”

 
; “You wouldn’t let him,” she said. “He told me that. That, and other things. Like how you stayed by my bedside nearly the entire two weeks I was unaware of my surroundings.” Kenna pulled back a little so she could see his face. “I was so miserable and hateful toward you then.” She would have apologized for her actions; it was there in her eyes. Rhys put a finger to her lips, stopping her.

  “You were a child, Kenna. What you saw, or rather what you thought you saw, was more than anyone should see, child or no. I don’t blame you or think less of you. I cannot deny I was hurt by your accusations, but we are past that now, aren’t we?”

  Her gaze was steady. “Yes, we are.”

  “Then I hope you can understand that I accepted the Foreign Office’s most recent assignment because I knew I was going to Dunnelly anyway. I was there for you, Kenna. I agreed to keep a watch on Dunnelly’s coast, but frankly I did not expect any activity. Napoleon was safely away on Elba; peace between England and France seemed as if it would continue without disruption. But something must have roused the suspicions of my superiors because they were adamant that I go to Dunnelly.”

  “Their suspicions were founded. You heard of plans for the escape.”

  “I did. But I think that news was rather more than the Foreign Office anticipated, else they would have acted with more haste. The first night I was at Dunnelly I saw someone walking toward the summerhouse. In my mind there was only one reason that a person would go there in the middle of winter. I was with you that evening. Remember?”

  “That was the night you practically threw me from your bedchamber.”

  “Precisely. After you were gone I used the passage in the south wing to go to the caves. By now I knew all its secrets. I had explored the passages and chambers many times since I first used it. I knew exactly where to stand to hear the conversation being conducted in the outer chamber. Unfortunately, the stone wall distorts the voices so I still did not know the identities of the people in the cave. At this moment I know no more than I did then. I sent Powell directly to London to tell of what I had overheard and I was determined to establish the identity of the traitor once you were safely at Cherry Hill with Yvonne. But my plans came to nothing. My father and Richard died, you were abducted, the guest list was forgotten, and Napoleon escaped. It now rests with Powell. He is employed at Dunnelly and I can only hope he has more success than I.”

  Kenna was not certain she wished Powell the same. She would not let herself dwell on the possibility that someone she knew, even loved, was a traitor. “Have you any suspicions?” she asked, dreading Rhys’s response.

  “It would be folly for me to speak of them. I have no evidence. I did not even share my thoughts with Powell, preferring that he begin his work uninfluenced by my judgment.”

  “That is no sort of answer at all. If you suspect some member of my family you should tell me.”

  “It is the only answer I will give you, Kenna,” Rhys said. “Please do not ask me again.”

  “Now I shall think the worst.”

  “I cannot be responsible for that. Think whatever you wish.” His expression softened as did his hold on her. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to be so brusque. This is a matter on which I do not care to dwell either. But, Kenna, while I have only suspicions, I would swear on my life that you know the truth.”

  “I know nothing of traitors!” she denied hotly.

  “Don’t you? What of your dreams? Isn’t the truth there somewhere?”

  “You mean—” She was too astonished to finish her thought.

  Rhys nodded, reading the expression on her face with perfect clarity. “I believe the person responsible for your father’s death is the same person I overheard receiving information of Napoleon’s escape. There has always been much more at stake than you merely discovering who murdered your father. That you could identify a traitor who is still working for Napoleon ten years later threatened everything he is doing. It mandated the attempts on your life.”

  It made an awful kind of sense to her but Kenna did not want to believe it. “No, Rhys. You’re wrong.”

  Rhys would not argue over this matter. “Mayhap I am,” he agreed quietly.

  It occurred to Kenna that Rhys was patronizing her but it was not in her at the moment to take offense. “I need time to think on it,” she said, admitting to herself there might be more than a grain of truth in his suspicions.

  “Of course.”

  “You must admit it is difficult for me.”

  “I admit it.”

  She went on as if he had not spoken. “I mean, it is a fantastic idea.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “That the traitor of ten years ago could be the same traitor you overheard. It is hard to credit.”

  Rhys simply drew her closer. “I know.”

  Kenna’s lashes fanned her cheeks, blending into the shadows beneath her eyes. “Just hold me, Rhys. Hold me forever.”

  “I will.” And he did. Long after Kenna had fallen asleep Rhys held her in his loving embrace and stared at the play of shadows on the ceiling.

  Something soft touched the bridge of Kenna’s nose. She wrinkled it. There was another touch, light and airy. She passed her hand in front of her face, brushing aside the teasing caress. When it came again she buried her face in her pillow.

  Rhys chuckled, ruffling the red-gold curls at the nape of her neck. “Slug-a-bed,” he said affectionately.

  Kenna nodded happily in agreement.

  The knuckle of his index finger traced the length of her spine, eliciting a sleepy, but satisfied sound of pleasure. “It’s a beautiful day, Kenna,” he said, looking past her to the window. The sun was shining in a cloudless azure sky, coaxing pink and white blossoms on the cherry tree beyond the window to lay open their petals.

  “That’s nice,” she said, yawning hugely.

  Rhys was uncertain if she was commenting on the day or the pressure of his hand in the small of her back. He bent his head, blowing softly in her ear. “I was thinking of a picnic. We could ride to the brook that Alcott says skirts the edge of our property, lay out a rug, and breakfast on muffins, honey, and tea.”

  She turned her head a little and snuggled closer to Rhys. “That sounds lovely.”

  “I cannot help but notice you are making no effort to rise.”

  Kenna’s hand slipped beneath the covers and tugged at Rhys’s nightshirt. She ran her fingers lightly over his inner thigh, then her touch grew bolder, fondling him. She giggled when she felt his immediate response. “No, but you are.”

  Without conscious thought their bodies made the necessary adjustments, melding with a complete naturalness that took Kenna’s breath away. Her gown was pushed up around her waist and like the blossoms outside their bedroom window she unfolded to receive Rhys. She had not realized how ready she was for him until he thrust into her. It faintly embarrassed her that she could accept him so easily, so quickly, that her body had prepared for his entry as if it were inevitable.

  And perhaps it was.

  She felt the heat of his gaze upon her and she lifted her eyes to his, caught at once by the desire darkening his smoke gray eyes.

  The swiftness of their passion had surprised Rhys also but he reveled in the hunger they shared. His mouth sought Kenna’s, tasting, teasing, exploring the full curve of her sensitive lower lip. He pressed kisses along her jaw, at the tip of her sometimes impossibly determined chin, traced the delicate sweep of her cheekbones and touched his lips to the corners of her eyes. He felt her need in the throaty way she murmured his name and in the arching of her body against him. Her breasts swelled in his palms, the nipples becoming erect under the insistent pressure of his thumbs. The tips of her tapered nails made small crescents in the flesh of his shoulders as she held him to her. Her legs wrapped around him, smooth and white against the darker texture of his skin. His hand slipped from her breast to her thigh, stroking the taut curve of her leg.

  “I love touching you,” he said, his own voice husky and edged wit
h desire.

  Kenna’s hands caressed the length of Rhys’s broad back then cradled his buttocks, keeping him deep inside her. There was an infinitesimal pause in the rhythm of their love. “You cannot imagine…how good you feel.”

  His response was a growl from deep in his chest as his loins gave an involuntary jerk and he felt himself lose control. Kenna met his quickened thrusts and knew her own pleasure was but moments away. Her neck arched, exposing the slender column of her throat and the little pulse there, beating wildly as she finally gave in to the mounting sensations. She opened her eyes because she wanted to see his face and found Rhys watching her expectantly as if he had commanded her attention. Her lips parted but her thoughts remained unspoken. Their mouths touched, then clung, as if sharing the same breath in the moment their bodies shuddered with the force of pleasure’s release.

  “It’s a lovely day,” Kenna said some minutes later. She rubbed her cheek against the smooth linen fabric that covered his chest.

  Rhys gave her backside an affectionate pinch. “You have yet to look out the window,” he observed.

  “I don’t have to,” she answered tartly, “One knows these things.”

  A dark eyebrow lifted. “Does one really?”

  Kenna sat up and pulled her nightgown over her head, giving Rhys an uninhibited view of her breasts. She laughed when she saw her actions had the effect of raising his other brow. She leaned down and dropped a kiss on his forehead, bounding off the bed and neatly eluding Rhys’s play to grab her. “I thought you wanted to go on a picnic,” she said, glancing over her bare shoulder as she retreated into the dressing room.

  Rhys rose somewhat reluctantly from the bed and followed her. The smooth routine of dressing was interrupted periodically as they found excuses to touch and tease one another. By the time Kenna smoothed Rhys’s jacket over his back her cheeks were warm and her eyes were suspiciously bright. As Rhys followed her downstairs, watching the graceful sway of her hips, he admitted to being warm all over.

  In the days that followed Kenna clung to the memory of Rhys’s roguish glances as he threw himself into his work. Though she often accompanied him to the warehouse she returned hours before he did and was not nearly as tired when he finally joined her in bed. He slept restlessly as the day’s events would turn over in his mind and she held him, troubled by the shadows beneath his eyes and tension in his body. He spoke to her of the difficulty of righting his father’s wrongs against the Clouds but Kenna knew he did not share his innermost feelings. It was in the darkness of their chamber when he would reach out to her and love her with a desperation that made her ache, that she knew how troubled he was by the course he had set for himself.