Heiress in red silk, p.26
Heiress in Red Silk, page 26
“How awkward for you,” Rosamund said. “I’m thinking that is illegal. You should probably give back the money.”
Like most men, Walter preferred anger to embarrassment. “I told you she would not listen to reason,” he snapped to his wife. He began to stand. “I’ll not be subjected to this by a common hat maker.”
“Wait!” Felicity cried, grabbing blindly for his arm. She turned wide, frightened eyes on Rosamund. “We can’t give it back. It is gone.”
Gone. Spent. Rosamund looked more closely at Felicity’s ensemble. New and fashionable. She wondered how much this woman spent in a year. Probably a lot. Walter’s fortune might be much like Kevin’s, but it could not support a woman who wanted to live like a duchess.
Walter stood. Red-faced, he walked to the door. “Good day to you.”
Rosamund waited for his boot steps to stop sounding on the stairs. Felicity dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.
“How much?” Rosamund asked.
“Three thousand. A trust pays out in June, but the man who purchased this grows impatient. Even if we can convince him to wait, should we give him that, there will be nothing left for us.”
If it was a trust like Kevin’s, it paid out twice a year, so five or six thousand in all. That was a huge income.
She should not pity Felicity for her current situation. Yet she did. The idea of her husband possibly being arrested for fraudulent business dealings hopefully mattered more than the loss of a new wardrobe this autumn.
“I think I can find a way to help you,” she said. “First, however, I want to talk about something else.”
Having heard the hint of a reprieve, Felicity calmed. She nodded and waited.
“You told me you had seen Kevin in London in the days after the duke’s death. What days and where did you see him?”
Felicity thought before speaking. “It was the next day. He was riding his horse. He did not notice me. He had that expression he gets when he is not paying attention to anything but his own thoughts.”
“Do you know where he was going?”
Felicity shrugged. “It was not far from Grosvenor Square. I assumed he was going to visit Lady Greenough. She is a widow, and very wealthy. There were quiet rumors about the two of them that winter. That was only notable for it being Kevin. He was not known for such flirtations.”
Rosamund battled to keep her surprise from her expression. She hated that jealousy rose fast and hot into her heart.
“I will help you out of your situation,” she said after collecting herself. “I want something in return, however.”
“I will receive you, if it is that. I will encourage the family to as well.”
“That would be nice, but it isn’t that. When you leave this chamber, you are to forget that you saw him in London that day. On considering it, you realized that you never saw that rider’s face, and made unwarranted assumptions. Because you question your own memories now, you will never again, to anyone, insinuate that Kevin had something to do with his uncle’s death. You will tell your husband that you made an unfortunate mistake, so he does not continue suspecting Kevin unfairly.”
Felicity nodded without hesitation.
Rosamund stood. “Have your husband send me the name of the man from whom he accepted the money, and the exact amount he owes. I will have a draft drawn and left with Mr. Sanders. Matters can be resolved in his office. You will have to sign loan documents for it that say the amount will be due immediately if either of you ever again gossips about my husband.”
Chapter Twenty
“What is that?” Chase asked Kevin.
The two of them were in the library of Chase’s chambers on Bury Street. Chase had lived here prior to his marriage.
Kevin continued unwrapping his bundle. “It is a small steam engine. I stopped by the house on my way here and spirited it out.”
“I hope you don’t intend to fire it up in here.”
“It is perfectly safe. Even if there is a mishap, it won’t do more than take down some plaster. I need it for demonstrations.”
Chase appeared skeptical. “You had better explain that to Brigsby, and warn him whenever you intend to demonstrate.”
Kevin stood back and eyed the placement of the engine on the library table. “It is good of you to lend him, as well as allow me to let these chambers from you.”
Chase reached for the brandy decanter, then poured into two glasses. “You are doing me a favor on both accounts. Brigsby has been without a proper situation since my marriage. It has created complications. He refuses to be a mere valet but is not suited to manage an entire household. Due to his long history with me, he considers himself first among equals with the servants, much to the annoyance of the butler and housekeeper. You have your own valet at your house now, but taking care of this part of your life will keep Brigsby occupied. The suggestion he serve you here delighted him. He now has his own kingdom again.”
“I thought he served as one of your agents now.”
Chase sank into a chair. “Sometimes.” He looked to the door, then lowered his voice. “He is too notable to be useful most of the time. A more anonymous look and manner is often required. He has—”
The door opened just then, and the man in question entered. He carried a tray with coffee and cups and swept it over to a low table. He deftly poured and handed over the results, then beamed with pride at his own job well done.
There was nothing anonymous-looking about Brigsby, that was certain. Of middling height and slight of build, he exuded a self-confidence that often got servants sacked. His collar had been ironed to such perfection that its edge could be a weapon. Pomade slicked his sparse black hair to his skull. His expression stayed just shy of impertinent. He clearly was the kind of man servant who saw his charge as someone who needed help in the most rudimentary exercises in living.
“The coffee is very good,” Kevin felt obligated to say, because Brigsby appeared to be waiting for praise. Or something.
“I am pleased if you are pleased, sir.” He pivoted slightly so he faced Chase. “I was wondering if we might have a brief talk regarding my duties here, so I am able to execute them properly.”
“Certainly.” Chase turned an amused, expectant expression on Kevin.
“I expect they are the same as they were when you were here with Chase,” Kevin said, not really knowing what that meant.
“If I may say, sir—You have another home, so am I correct that you won’t be living here?”
“Not in the normal way.”
“Ah. I am an excellent cook. Far better than most households employ.” A quick, sidelong glance aimed at Chase. “Will you on occasion want meals here?”
“I suppose that is possible, if I am here late.”
“Very good, sir. Other than linens and such, will you need laundry done?”
“I doubt it.”
“I see. That will spare me much time. Because I will not be required to perform some duties, would you mind if I on occasion continue my employment in the inquiries, when I am needed?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kevin saw Chase’s thin smile. “Let me think about that and see how things go here first.”
“Very good, sir. I do not want to be presumptuous, but it would perhaps be best if we also discussed my requirements.”
“What would those be?”
Brigsby smiled a smile that managed to appear both subservient and superior. “I prefer to receive my wages every fortnight. I know it is not the normal way to do things, but it suits me. And if you anticipate having a guest for meals, notice by that morning at the latest is necessary so I can procure the necessities.”
“That is very sensible.”
“Thank you, sir. Oh, there is one more thing. If you intend to have a lady stay the night, I ask that you remove the door pull that hangs off the latch to the cellar. I wouldn’t want to intrude by mistake.”
“I don’t expect to be doing that, but it is good to know the custom.”
With a gracious bow, Brigsby left the library.
“What have you done to me?” Kevin asked.
“He is an excellent manservant. He can even do your accounts if you want. Once that enterprise starts showing sales and profit, you might consider using him.” Chase drank the rest of his coffee, then set the cup aside and picked up his brandy. “You are lucky to have him.”
“I’ll let you know if I agree after a month or so.” He stood and examined the library. Most of the books had been removed to the house Chase now shared with Minerva. It reminded him of the empty shelves that so distressed Rosamund when she bought her house. That library now overflowed with Kevin’s books. Maybe he would move some here, so she could continue buying the ones she preferred.
He had come upon her yesterday, reading one of the custom-bound volumes she had bought. The pages turned slowly, but she had kept at it. Twice while he was in the library she rose and went to the dictionary she had left open on a writing table.
“Does domestic life suit you?” Chase asked.
“Very much.” Kevin continued his perusal of the chamber.
“Your deciding to take separate chambers within a month of marriage implied otherwise.”
“They are not separate. They are extra. There is a difference.”
“If you say so.”
Kevin knew that tone of voice. It was Chase’s it-is-not-for-me-to-question tone that had ten questions waiting behind it.
“I’m not regretting my marriage, if that is what you think.”
“I don’t think anything except that this is odd.” Chase gestured with his glass around the library.
“If you think so, why did you offer this apartment?”
“You said you were going to do it, and this was available and well situated. It isn’t for me to make your decisions.”
“Yet it is for you to question them, it seems.”
“I only have one question. Does Rosamund know about this?”
“She does. She is in complete agreement that we needed these extra chambers.”
Chase raised his eyebrows, just enough to be irritating.
“What?”
“Nothing. Except—”
There was always an except in conversations like this.
“If I did not know you better, I would say it looks like you are setting yourself up for liaisons within a month of taking your vows,” Chase finished. “But, of course, you don’t have liaisons. Until the one with Miss Jameson.”
“If you must know, this place is for the enterprise. We both wanted an address other than our home. Also an office other than in our home. A place reserved for those matters, so they don’t intrude where they shouldn’t.”
Those eyebrows went up again, for a longer spell. “Ah.”
“That was an extremely annoying ‘Ah.’ It sounded as if the expert at discreet inquiries had concluded he had his answers.”
“All I have concluded is that you have decided that a business partnership and a domestic one don’t sit together well in one place.”
That was an understatement. Since their marriage, Kevin had several times cursed the agreement he had signed about leaving Rosamund’s share in her hands.
“We had a row,” he said. “It was small, but it became a poison affecting everything. I had already proposed that I needed a place to pursue my interests, and we agreed to separate those two parts of our lives.”
“So whenever the two of you discuss the enterprise, you will do it here?”
“That is the thinking.”
“And you believe that if you argue, you can leave the argument here?”
“Of course. Why not?”
“It is unlike any marriage I know, but you are unlike any man I know, so perhaps you have found a perfect solution. Now, I have to go to the City. I’ll leave you and Brigsby to settle in.”
The notion of being settled in by Brigsby had Kevin striding to the door in Chase’s wake. “I’ll ride part way with you.”
* * *
Rosamund wound her hands around the silken tie that bound her wrists to the bedpost above her head. Her vulnerability excited her more than she expected. Kevin had aroused her perfectly, masterfully. Now he sat back on her legs and watched her, making her wait while she trembled with desire.
Lessons like this had progressed in fits and starts. A week might pass before a new one. A pattern had emerged. He would tell her, in that quiet, clear voice of his, what he was going to do. One time she had recoiled at his words. He had discarded the idea and never presented it again.
This reminded her of their first time together, when he held her hands together above her head. Nothing else was similar, however. She was not lying but sitting, for one thing.
He spread her legs and kissed up the length of one. The higher those kisses went, the shorter her breaths came. His mouth turned toward the dampness down there. His fingers stroked and his tongue flicked. She closed her eyes and rode the intensity of pleasure that he created.
She was almost there, almost breaking apart, when he moved again, leaving her need bereft of completion. He knelt close to her, rising above. He untied her hands.
He had not described this part, but she knew what to do. She caressed him, her hands rising up his torso, then down to his hips and thighs. She took his cock in her hands and pleasured him the way he liked.
His position and hers allowed her to caress him fully. It also allowed something else. She had heard the women talk about it and thought it among the worst of their duties. Now the notion did not shock her. On impulse, she leaned in and flicked her tongue up his cock’s shaft. She sensed a new tension in him and looked up.
“Do you want this?” She flicked her tongue again.
“Yes.”
His ragged voice, his tight jaw, the way he watched her—all of it said he wanted this more than that “yes” admitted.
She grazed him with lips and fingertips, teasing him the way he often did her. Torturing him and making his hunger increase. “I wonder if I can make you beg,” she said, before circling her tongue around the tip.
“Never.”
“No? I have all night to find out.”
He braced against the headboard with one arm. “Do your worst.”
* * *
Kevin woke to find Rosamund looking right at him. She rested on her side, her head propped on her upright hand, while she regarded him.
He must have fallen asleep after collapsing. She had exhausted him. She lacked experience, but her curiosity alone aroused him. And charmed him. Feeling her explore and experiment had left his blood screaming.
Now she wore a self-satisfied smile. “I expect decent women are not supposed to do that,” she said. “Is that why you never asked it of me?”
It was a hell of a question. “I thought later, perhaps.”
“I told you the women talked. I know that men like it.”
“Yes. Well . . .”
“You liked it enough to beg.”
“I don’t think one ‘please’ is begging.”
“It wasn’t only one ‘please’ but a good number, along with some ‘yes, like that’ and ‘deeper’ and—”
He grabbed her and tucked her close so she would not feel obligated to repeat every desperate muttering he had made.
He began to drift away again.
“Tell me about Lady Greenough.”
Suddenly, he was alert, staring at the underside of the bed’s drape that billowed above them. “What about her?”
“I was told that you had a liaison with her last year. I thought you didn’t have lovers.”
His response shouldn’t matter, but an acute sense of caution made him hesitate. “For the most part, no.”
“Do you mean she was the exception?”
Damnation. “Yes, although it was so brief that ‘liaison’ is not the right word.”
“I thought you had no experience in discretion, but you must have had some after that.”
“Not really.” Discretion wasn’t needed when a man lived in a woman’s private chambers for four days. It had been a calculated orgy of two, a reckless gamble with a cynical goal.
Nothing else came for a good while. Then . . .
“Did you love her?”
He looked down on Rosamund’s crown. “No.”
She turned on her back with her head in the crook of his arm and shared his examination of the bed drape. “I don’t understand something. Why didn’t you tell Chase you had been with her when he was investigating your uncle’s death? It would have cleared up the questions about you right away if he talked to her.”
A series of comprehensions lined up in his head, each one more astonishing than the last.
She had known about the questions regarding his whereabouts on the night of the duke’s death.
She had never asked him about those suspicions.
She had ferreted out more information than Chase had.
Yet despite all of that, she had married him.
He could end this conversation by saying it had nothing to do with her and was not her concern. Or he could explain a few things that he had never told anyone, and that did not reflect well on him. Whatever he chose, this marriage, this forever, would probably change. He admitted that what it became mattered to him.
He turned on his side so he could see her. He kissed her cheek. “I want you to know that I never harmed my uncle.”
She turned her head so she looked in his eyes. “I believe that. I would not be here if I didn’t.”
The final discovery. She had weighed all of this before agreeing to marry. She had lined up evidence that could damn a man, and had chosen to believe in him.
He didn’t deserve her.
* * *
His gaze warmed after she said it, but she could see part of his vision had turned inward. She waited for whatever else he wanted to say. Perhaps he would drift to sleep now, content that he had reassured her.
“I was there the night before,” he said. “I went down to Melton Park to tell him I needed the money for Forestier. My uncle had invested, as had I. He saw the potential. However, he refused me more funds. We had a row. I told Chase this when he learned I had returned from France earlier than I claimed.”
