You Only Love Twice (33 page)

“My love,” he said, “there is only so much a man can take before he disgraces himself. The anticipation is killing me.”

Then the smile left his eyes and there was only passion.

His mouth came down on hers, demanding, possessing, and she realized what a fool she had been to think she could have everything her own way. Surrender was a two-edged sword. Yield, his kiss told her. And she did, not because she was afraid of him, but because she reveled in everything that was masculine in his nature. She’d never felt more of a woman in her life.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he muttered. “I’ve
dreamed of you like this. I want to know all of you, every intimate inch.”

He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t want gentleness. They were both greedy, desperate, wild. Once, when he was too rough, she cried out. He went perfectly still and looked down at her with a stricken expression on his face.

“Now,” she panted, “now,” and she dug her nails into his shoulders, urging him to take her.

He laughed softly and covered her body with his. She cried out when he drove into her. Then he braced himself on his arms, making his penetration as deep as he could make it. Their eyes locked, then lost focus. Rational thought slipped away. She reached for him, and it was the signal he had been waiting for. Unchecked, he let the passion take them both, and the sudden blaze that engulfed them brought them to a shuddering, explosive climax. Then there was nothing but the sound of their own harsh breathing.

In the aftermath of spent passion, he wanted to talk. She wanted to sleep. He lay awake for a long while after, going over in his mind the conversation they’d had before they’d made love. She’d been on the point of telling him something, something that troubled her, but at the last moment, she’d had second thoughts. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him that she’d deliberately distracted him from pursuing the subject.

Her breathing was slow and even. He smoothed back her hair and adjusted her to the fit of his body. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder. His arms cradled her.

The familiar fierce possessiveness flooded through him. He was her lover now. She might not know it yet, but that changed everything between them.

CHAPTER
21

“P
erry, if it were anyone but you, we’d be facing each other at twenty paces with dueling pistols in our hands. You do realize that, don’t you?”

Perry pulled at his neckcloth as though it had suddenly decided to choke him. Lucas was standing with his back to the window and the sunlight, though not blinding, made it difficult to read his expression. Lucas’s voice didn’t betray anything, either, and that made Perry highly nervous. He badly needed something to drink.

His eyes flitted around the room, one of the two rooms he rented above a draper’s shop in Bond Street, and came to rest on the tray of decanters on a side table. They were all empty.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you to drink,” he said lamely.

“I wouldn’t accept it even if you had. Perry, this place is a pigsty. I don’t know how you can live like this. Haven’t you ever heard the word
hygiene
?”

Perry shut his eyes to the stack of dirty dishes on the
table and the muddle of books and dirty clothes that were heaped on every available surface. “Yes, well, we’re not all earls with an army of servants to clear up after us,” he said defensively.

“Good try, but it won’t work. I’m your trustee, remember? I know what you can and can’t afford. So where’s your manservant?”

“He handed in his notice and I forgot to look for another. And I don’t know why you’re finding fault with me. I remember the rooms you and Adrian kept at Oxford. You couldn’t lift anything without finding a maggot under it.”

When Lucas laughed, Perry heaved a great sigh of relief. For the last half hour, he’d had to give Lucas an account of his escapade with Jessica the night before, and just listening to his own voice relate the story had made him seriously wonder whether he was a candidate for an insane asylum. He’d gone off in the dead of night with another man’s wife. Not any man’s wife, but Lucas’s. And Lucas was a crack shot. He knew perfectly well that Lucas would not kill him if he challenged him to a duel. But he might decide to teach him a lesson by clipping off the tip of a finger. Or by parting his hair. Permanently.

Lucas said, “So what it comes down to is that
my wife”
—he emphasized the words and smiled when Perry winced—“is convinced that Mr. Stone has met with a bad end.”

“And I agree with her,” said Perry.

“At Bow Street they seem to think that he’s hiding from his creditors.” When Perry’s head jerked up, Lucas nodded. “Oh yes, I’ve already been to Bow Street. I went there first thing this morning before coming here. I think that’s the most likely explanation for Mr. Stone’s disappearance, or he may have met with an accident. At any rate, it’s the not knowing that is worrying Jessica.” Lucas used the windowsill as a seat, and folded his arms across
his chest. “And I don’t like it when my wife is worried, Perry.”

“No, of course not,” said Perry, and something in Lucas’s tone made him sit up straighter.

“I don’t like it when she goes off on escapades all over town late at night when I’m not there to protect her.”

Perry gulped. “I get your point.”

“And I particularly don’t like it when she’s locked up in Bow Street like a common criminal.”

Perry was silent.

Lucas let out a long, theatrical sigh. “I don’t think Jess will have any peace of mind until she knows exactly what has happened to Stone. And that’s where you come in, Perry. Let’s find out who remembers him in Chalford. Who saw him last? Who saw him leave? I’d begin at the Rose and Crown, if I were you. That’s where he was staying.”

“Chalford! But I have things to do here and this could take days, weeks.”

Lucas bared his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. “I think it might be beneficial all round if you and Jessica had a little holiday from each other.”

He began to pull on his gloves. “And while you’re in Chalford, there’s something else you can do for me.”

There was the sound of voices raised in anger from the street below, and Lucas turned to look out the window. A horse and cart had come out of a side street and were blocking the progress of a stream of carriages. He was about to turn away when his eyes fell on a lady and gentleman who were walking on the other side of the road. His mother was looking as pretty and animated as he had ever seen her. The object of her attentions was Sir Matthew Paige, and he had eyes only for her. Neither of them took any notice of the altercation between the carter and the coachman who were bellowing insults at each other.

“Well?” said Perry in a resigned tone. “What else do you want me to do?”

Lucas erased his frown and turned to face Perry. “When you’re in Chalford, I want you to look up Bella. Get a list from her of all the gentlemen she gave those blank invitations to, the ones for her ball. Send it to me, and I’ll go on from there. Oh, and talk to her butler. Maybe he remembers something.”

“I don’t see how that will help us find Mr. Stone.”

“Perhaps it won’t. But I’d like to know how he came to have an invitation to Bella’s ball when no one seems to know him.”

“I see what it is!” exclaimed Perry. “You’re beginning to think there may be more to Mr. Stone than meets the eye.”

“No,” said Lucas. “I’m trying to pin everything down so that I can lay Jessica’s fears to rest. That’s all.”

As he left Perry’s lodgings, it occurred to him that he didn’t want to believe there was anything sinister in Rodney Stone’s disappearance because once he suspected foul play, it would open his mind to all sorts of possibilities he didn’t want to think about. Or act upon.

When he came out on Bond Street, there was no sign of his mother or Sir Matthew. Sir Matthew was probably walking her home. His own errand would take him first to Rodney Stone’s lodgings, then out to Hampstead, to talk to Mr. Stone’s aunt again. Just as well. Lately, he’d been bumping into Sir Matthew Paige a tad too often for his liking and it was becoming difficult to keep his thoughts to himself.

Rosemary halted when she and Sir Matthew came to the iron gates of Dundas House. “Why don’t you come in for a glass of sherry?” she said. “I’d like you to meet my daughter-in-law. She’s not your typical young bride, Matt. She’s likely to ask your help in placing her orphanage boys, or to solicit a donation for her convent.” She laughed.

His smile was touched with irony. “I’d like to, Rodie, but I don’t think your son would approve.”

Her smile died. “Things have changed, Matt. You and Lucas are always polite to each other now when you meet.”

“Don’t let that deceive you. Your son still sees me as his mortal enemy.”

She said quickly, “I’m sure you’re wrong.”

“Are you? Then why hasn’t Lucas ever introduced me to his wife? There have been plenty of chances.”

“Lucas is not here now. There’s nothing to stop me introducing you to Jessica.”

A look of impatience crossed his face. “Rodie, that’s not the point, and you are being deliberately obtuse. There will never be a reconciliation between your son and me. You need to accept that.”

She placed her hand on his sleeve and looked up at him with a plea in her eyes. “He needs time to get used to the idea that we’ll be together. Be patient, Matt. Lucas isn’t a boy now. He’ll come round.” When his features hardened, she cried, “We hurt him, Matt! All those years ago, we hurt him. It’s not something he can easily forgive.”

“I’m not interested in his forgiveness. I’m not ashamed that we were lovers. Our situation was intolerable. We found joy in each other, and I’ve lived without that joy for fifteen years. If my happiness depends on your son, tell me now. Then I’ll know there is no hope for me.”

A silence fell, and the slow thud of her heart seemed to toll like a death knell. A moment before, she’d felt the heat of the sun warming her skin. They’d been happy and flirtatious, content just to be together. Now the cold in his eyes frightened her. His face had a tense, hard look as though he expected a blow.

There would be no blow. She wasn’t going to give up Matt a second time, not only for her sake, but more especially for his. In all the years they’d been apart, she hadn’t
really grasped what he had suffered. She’d been too caught up in her own guilt and grief. She’d known he’d had other women since her, many women, and she’d assumed he’d got over her far more quickly than she’d got over him. But it wasn’t true. For all his affairs and mistresses, he had been more alone than she could ever have imagined. She’d had her son. All Matt had ever had was a wife who despised him.

She’d known all this, but those were only facts her brain had absorbed. Recently, her heart had taken his impression. He wasn’t the invincible knight in shining armor she’d imagined him to be when she was young. He was a real man, with all the flaws and insecurities of a real man.

And she never wanted him to be alone again.

At last she whispered, “When I’m with you, everything seems simple.”

“It
is
simple.” His eyes blazed. “Rodie, let’s not wait on anyone’s convenience. Let’s marry at once. What’s to stop us eloping? I mean, right this minute? We could buy what we need on the way to Scotland, or wherever you want to go. Just once, let’s think of ourselves. Or better yet, let’s stop thinking and act on instinct.”

She said lightly, “You don’t mean that, Matt.”

“I was never more serious in my life.”

“Matt, I can’t just leave everything on a whim. I have obligations, to my family, to my ward. You must see that.”

“Those were the words, or words very like them, you wrote to me all those years ago. Nothing has really changed, has it, Rodie?”

“We were both married then—”

He interrupted before she could complete the sentence. “Yes, and have been paying for our sins ever since. And if your son has his way, we’ll go on paying for the rest of our lives.”

She said quietly, “All I’m asking is for a little time, not
for myself, but for my son. I don’t want to hurt him, Matt, and I don’t want to lose him.”

There was a chill, resigned look in his eyes, and she knew what he was going to say before he spoke. “We’ve come full circle,” he said. “I think I always knew what your answer would be. You’ll always choose your son over me.”

She cried, “Why do I have to choose between you?” “Because he will make you.”

He removed her hand from his arm and took a step back. “I thought my patience was limitless,” he said, “but I see that I was wrong. In fact, I’ve come to the end of what I can tolerate. I was a fool to think I could resurrect the past, a fool to think you would change. It would have been better if I had stayed away. With us, there is always a penalty that must be paid.”

The bitterness in his voice sent a shard of cold fear straight to her heart. “No … Matt … no. I’ll talk to Lucas. I’ll tell him about us. He may not like it, but he’ll accept it. You’ll see.”

His smile was not reflected in his eyes. “It has been in my mind for some time,” he said, “to see something of the world. I had hoped you would come with me.”

“And I shall!” she cried passionately.

“Will you?” He was looking past her, toward the house. Some moments passed, and when he looked back at her, his eyes were blank. “There are some loose ends I must tie up before I leave. I don’t know why I’ve kept on the house in Chalford.” He nodded as though coming to a decision. “I should put it up for sale. I may never return to England.”

The lump in her throat made it hard to find her voice. “Matt, what are you saying?”

He gave her a strange, unnatural smile. “Tomorrow morning,” he said, “I shall go to Chalford. My business there may take a few days or it may take a little longer. I
won’t be returning to London. If you want me, Rodie, you know where to find me.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

“No. I think you’ve already made your decision.”

As he struck out toward St. James’s Street, she put her hand on the cold iron gate to steady herself. A passing carriage blocked her view, and when it went by, he was gone.