Eulogy's Secret (The Huntley Trilogy) (20 page)

“This is utterly romantic. Thank you.”

“If you think this romantic, I can do better.”

At a click of his fingers, somewhere on board a flutist struck up sweet, soulful cadence that hovered hauntingly on the chill air.

“How wonderful!” She fluttered a kiss against his cheek, conscious of a heady mix of cologne and masculinity. The taste of man lingered on her lips as she wondered at her brazenness. Huntley quivered; his coiled tension spoke of a restraint more erotic than any kiss as he settled back against the cushions to point out landmarks.

“That building, Somerset House, has its own private docks. Not so long ago the river was the fastest way to travel.” He angled his head, watching as the building slid past, but if he was held by the scenery, Eulogy’s gaze was fixed on the angle of his jaw and the tantalizing bump of his Adam’s apple as he talked. Damn, he was temptation personified. Be it from the gentle rocking of the boat, the champagne or his proximity, Eulogy’s body buzzed with desire.

So when his arm settled heavily around her shoulder, it was with something akin to relief that she snuggled closer, intoxicated by the scent of musk and male warmth.

“London looks so different from the water.” She sighed.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Truly heaven,” Eulogy breathed, forcing her gaze from Huntley to the sky. Lying on silk cushions, gliding along the Thames beneath a canopy of stairs, she sighed, deliciously aware of the rise and fall of his muscular chest. It felt right. Safe. As if, she belonged there.

Together they gazed up at the inky blackness streaked with silver, an iridescent halo shimmering round the moon.

“How bright the moon and stars. How wide the sky,” Huntley whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her cheek.

 Senses heightened, his leonine maleness claimed her wits and she had to command herself to breathe. Slowly, his hand cupped her chin, his gaze locked with hers, as gently placing his lips against her mouth and insides turned to honey. His touch was light, playful and teasing against her thirsting mouth as greedy for more, she threaded her fingers through his hair to pull him closer. A new, powerful beat slammed her body, a liquid need at her core.

In the private sanctuary of the covered tilt, Jack filled her senses. As he fluttered kisses down her neck, she arched eagerly to his touch. She gripped his arms, to anchor herself in a world awash with waves of desire. She could feel the bulk of his muscles through his coat, sculpted and hard, knotted with desire. That she could arouse him so made her feel powerful, as her breath came in jerky gasps. Like a drugged man Jack watched, his eyes bright with longing. Then slowly, he drew away.

“I need to ask you something.”

Eulogy fell from heaven, to earth. No longer the naive fool she had once been, as it dawned on her that the romance and the barge, were nothing but an elaborate seduction and it had almost worked. She felt sick with disappointment.

“Miss Foster…Eulogy.”

“Hush.” Foolish though it was, she wanted to cling to this moment, to imagine he cared for just a little longer.

“A long time ago I asked you something…”

“And the answer is still no.” Had she not been stuck on a barge in the middle of the Thames, she would have made a dignified exit.

“But you don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

“I can guess and the answer is no.”

Jack regarded her strangely and then to her surprise, he rose to his feet. The boat rocked alarmingly.

“What are you doing? You’ll have us over!”

She cast around for a hand hold as Jack arranged his long limbs to kneel at her feet.

“Miss Foster, for some time now I have held you in the highest regard.”

He covered her hands, but she pulled away.

“Miss Foster, I love you.”

A pulse surged at the base of her throat, betraying her emotions, and yet she knew the truth—that love was not enough.

“…and I cannot imagine a future without you.”

Eulogy tipped her nose to the stars, shutting out his dangerous words. “I will be no man’s mistress.”

She felt, rather than saw, him frown.

“Did I miss something? That wasn’t what I mean to say.”

“Well, you implied it.”

He reached out, touching her face, turning her to look into his eye.

“Eulogy, you can be infuriatingly stubborn at times, if you’d just let me finish. I was about to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“I beg your pardon?” Perhaps it was the champagne, or the romance of the moment, but she could swear he had proposed.

Patiently, Jack enfolded her slim, gloved hand and raised it to his lips.

“Now you are listening, Miss Foster, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Eulogy forced away euphoria. Think! Much as she desired him at that moment, could she trust him? She said the first thing that came into her head.

“Could I still pose for Farrell?”

“Of course. I could not deprive Farrell of his muse.”

“Oh.” A thousand thoughts careered round her head, but none of them made sense. Was he teasing her? Trying to teach her a lesson or use her to his own purpose? Social position and appearances were everything to a proud man like Jack Huntley, he wouldn’t marry a nobody. What then? Perhaps he knew her secret and wanted to use her to hurt Devlin. Hastily she dismissed the idea. No, it had to be something else.

Then a horrible suspicion struck.

“Would the marriage be public knowledge…or secret?” She held her breath.

With a soft look Jack pressed kisses into her palm, sending ripples of warmth across her skin.

“If you agree, then I want the world to know. We shall have an engagement party and invite the whole ton.”

“But I am no-one. Your standing would not allow—”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“That time in Hyde Park, you denied me to Miss Cartwright.”

“I’ve regretted those words every day since.”

“Then why say them?”

“Because I was weak, because I couldn’t admit I loved you, even to myself. I panicked. But these past weeks have been torture. Worrying about you, loving you from afar. Now I know the future lies with you alone.”

“Oh, in that case,” Eulogy’s said, her voice wavering, “yes, I will marry you.”

With a whoop, he jumped to his feet, cracking his head against the canopy. He hopped around the deck, rubbing his temple.

“Careful!” She giggled, as the shallop listed heavily. “You’ll have us in the Thames yet.”

But even as her heart soared, so quiet dread intruded on happiness. He had been honest with her, now it was her turn.

“Jack, please sit down. There’s something I must tell you.”

He settled beside her and kissed her cheek, drawing her hand up to his lips. “Later,” he breathed, “Tell me later.”

She withdrew her hand, her heart cold as stone. After such happiness, could she bear it if he hated her deceit? “No, this is important. Something you need to know about me, right now.”

To her relief he sat still. “If it matters to you, then tell me.”

Her heart tripped. Jack truly loved her, surely, he wouldn’t now hold being related to Devlin against her?

“The reason I came to London…”

“Yes.” Jack nuzzled her fingertips in a distracting way.

“Was because I was seeking…” In the lamplight she couldn’t read his face. What if he called her a liar? Would he then hate her? Fear trickled through her veins.

“Go on, my love.” He pulled her gloves, to reveal the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. With a heavy heart she lifted her gaze to his.

“The thing is…” This was too awful…could she bare his rejection?

“What is it my love?”

“The thing is…”

There could be no secrets between them, he had to know. She steeled herself.

“The thing is…”

As Eulogy gathered her courage, the barge bucked so violently and she fell sideways. Jack to was thrown, banging his shoulder against the canopy stanchions. Then the shallop jumped the other way, tossing the passengers like corks in a washtub.

The oarsmen cursed as they grappled with the oars, as they bobbed like flotsam in the wake of a passing ship.

On his hands and knees Jack made for Eulogy, stretched full length on her side.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she squeaked, trying to right herself.

“Damnation that was close.”

“What happened?”

“A ship, too close and too fast.”

The helmsman’s warning tore through the night.

“Hard to port! Ship ahead…collision course”

The passengers reeled to the other side of the barge; clammy river water slopped across Eulogy’s slippers.

The crew roared curses as a towering merchant ship rumbling dangerously close.

“She’s taking on water, sir.” The helmsman shouted. “Make for shore.”

Shaking with fear, Eulogy shrank into Jack’s embrace, closed her eyes and prayed for safety… the moment for confession quite gone.

-oO0Oo-

 The following day was too beautiful, the winter sun too crisp and sharp, to spend loitering in bed. Eulogy rose, light headed with happiness, dressed in Farrell’s costume for the day and made her way downstairs.

“There you are, dear.” Mrs. Featherstone’s face lit up. “This was delivered for you not ten minutes ago along with this bouquet.”

Eulogy accepted the letter and tried not to look too delighted as she sniffed the fragrant red roses—hot house flowers, out of season and very expensive.

“Would you like me to put them in water, dear?”

“Oh could you? That would be wonderful. You’re so much better at flower arranging than me.”

As Mrs. Featherstone disappeared to fetch a vase, Eulogy opened her letter.

Outside the attic’s glass roof, ice-crystals gilded a spider’s web, but in the cozy warmth, Farrell toasted his hands before the fire. Behind him, on a low platform, Eulogy, swathed in huntress’s furs, settled into the pose.

“Like so?”

Farrell tipped his head.

“Aye, Mauvoreen, just so.” But instead of turning to his easel, he stared harder. “The pose is right but you look different. There’s a glow about yer.”

Her cheeks dimpled. “I have news…”

“Aye? News that you’re going to share?”

She glanced at him shyly, but Huntley had said it was no secret and she would just burst if she didn’t tell someone. “Last night Mr. Huntley proposed marriage and I accepted.”

“Aye and about time too!”

“You’re not surprised?”

“Nay, Mauvoreen, the only surprise is that its teken him so long. Any fool can see the man adores yer.”

“I’ll continue to pose for you, even when I’m married.”

“I’m right glad to hear that.” Farrell cleared his throat and stared awkwardly at the ceiling. “Have you told him about yer true parentage?”

Eulogy shook her head.

“Now we are engaged, matters have changed rather. Jack has a right to know. I was going to tell him today, but this morning he sent me a note.”

“And?”

“And his mother has been taken dangerously ill. Charles and he are travelling to her bedside as we speak.”

Farrell stroked his chin. “How long will he be away?”

“I don’t think he knows, I suppose it depends how quickly their mother recovers.”

Farrell placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “Tis no bad thing, for now least ways, to leave Huntley in the dark about your brother.”

Eulogy looked startled. “How so?”

Farrell frowned. “What of Devlin? Has he acknowledged you yet?”

“No. You know he hasn’t.”

“Then think how Huntley might react, learning that your brother, his enemy, has blanked you?”

Eulogy blanched as realization struck home. “Oh, Jack can be terribly protective.”

“Aye. And I didna tell yer this before but Huntley is concerned about yer safety. He suspects Devlin of wishing yer harm.”

“He said as much to me, but I told him it was all nonsense.”

“How much worse then if Huntley found your brother wishes yer harm?”

A horrible empty feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “He’d be honor bound to call Devlin out.”

“Exactly, Mauvoreen.”

“Then what do I do?”

“How did you leave things with Devlin?”

“He seeks Lady Devlin’s lawyer to search for copies of the documents pertaining to my adoption.”

“How does that progress?”

“Last week Devlin sent a note saying he’d traced the original lawyer, but that the old man was not receiving visitors after an accident. Devlin promised to inform me when there is more news. But that was some weeks ago.”