Chapter Ten
The house was blissfully quiet.
With a significant tingle of anticipation, Adam folded his cravat into a neat knot.
The past week had been a delight. As he had promised Addy he had devoted little attention to the war efforts and instead concentrated his mind on his bride.
There had been walks in the park, nights at the theater, and one memorable musicale that had forced both Addy and Adam to flee the room before they erupted into whoops of laughter.
A delicate, precious bond had begun to develop over the days, but tonight was the first night that he and his wife would be completely alone.
An unconscious smile touched his lips as he recalled his inner elation when Humbly had casually announced his invitation to the Bishop’s. At long last he would have an entire evening with Addy. An evening that he very much intended her to recall for the rest of her life.
Already his blood ran hot with suppressed desire. For the past week he had been forced to content himself with lingering touches and snatched kisses. With Humbly always hovering nearby it had been impossible to maneuver Addy alone.
But tonight . . .
His fingers fumbled slightly—with an eager motion his valet moved forward to offer his assistance.
“If I may suggest, sir . . .”
“No.” With a smile, Adam halted the outstretched hands. “No Oriental. No Cascade. No Mailcoach. I will not appear the buffoon even for you, Dobson.”
With obvious reluctance the valet stepped back. “Very well.”
With an apologetic glance at his servant Adam returned to his efforts.
“Yes, I know I am the greatest trial. You must admit, however, that I have never requested you to gloss my boots with some ridiculous concoction nor forced you to pad my coats or bind me with corsets.”
“I should think not,” Dobson retorted with loyal outrage. “Your form is the envy of every gentleman in London.”
“Hardly that,” Adam denied, all too aware he was not the sort to strike envy in the heart of anyone. “But I do draw the line at primping like a dashed fop. You must content yourself with the knowledge I am a dull gentleman with no ambition to join the ranks of the dandies.”
“I thank God every night you are not so inclined, sir,” Dobson was swift to reassure him, then he gently cleared his throat. “But I did sense that you wished to appear at your best this evening.”
Startled by his servant’s perception Adam abruptly swung about to face him.
“Why the devil would you think such a thing?” 9
“Well . . .” Reddening slightly, Dobson glanced toward the bed covered with the numerous coats that Adam had discarded before settling upon a deep cinnamon coat with a striped waistcoat.
Adam grimaced at his unusual bout of vanity. “You have made your point. I am behaving like the veriest coxcomb. Rather ridiculous considering that I am merely spending an evening at home with my wife.”
Dobson offered a faint smile. “What more important occasion is there?”
A delicious shiver raced through his body at the thought of the evening ahead.
“Ah, very true, Dobson. Gads, it has been too long since I have managed to have Mrs. Drake to myself.”
“It is always awkward to have a guest constantly underfoot,” the valet readily agreed.
Adam felt a swift stab of guilt at his unkindly desire for Humbly to disappear. Goodness knew that before his arrival an evening alone with Addy would have been a stiff, formal affair. Certainly he would not have been anticipating the thought of his wife happily chatting about their day together over dinner or counting the moments until he could gather her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
“Not that I grudge Humbly’s visit,” he forced himself to say with meticulous honesty. “He has managed to bring a bit of life to our tedious household. Still, I do appreciate his evening with the Bishop.”
Dobson nodded in a knowing manner. “As will Mrs. Drake, I am sure.”
“I do hope so,” Adam murmured, recalling how her eyes had darkened and her lips parted when he had briefly kissed her earlier in the day. Although he was no experienced rake, he did know when a lady was responding to his touch. He was sure she was as anxious as he to succumb to their rising passions.
“She is a lovely lady, if I may be so bold,” Dobson broke into his delightful imaginings with a smile. “The staff is very devoted to her.”
“Yes, she is lovely.” Adam heard the faint sound of a gong. “And I have no desire to keep her waiting.”
Fussily brushing the coat until he was certain no renegade bit of fluff dared to mar the perfection, Dobson stepped back and gave a nod.
“There.”
Adam’s lips twitched. “Will I do?”
“Exquisitely.”
“Thank you.”
Still smiling at his servant’s absurd admiration, Adam made his way down the stairs. He encountered the housekeeper as she bustled from the library.
“Ah, Mrs. Hall, is Mrs. Drake down yet?”
With a smile that had been decidedly absent since the Vicar’s arrival, the woman gave a nod of her head.
“Yes, sir. She is in the front salon.”
“Thank you.”
Feeling oddly nervous, Adam hurried down the hall and entered the salon. He discovered his wife standing beside the fireplace and his breath caught.
Accustomed to the pale, modest gowns he had chosen, he was caught off guard by the dazzling moss green satin that shimmered in the firelight. The rich color contrasted sharply with her pure white skin and the darkness of her thick curls, while the soft material offered a tantalizing hint of the curves beneath.
She looked daring and utterly beguiling.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
Perhaps hearing his instinctively male reaction, Addy slowly turned to regard him with a faintly shy smile.
“Good evening, Adam.”
“Addy.” He moved forward, not bothering to disguise his appreciative gaze. “What a beautiful gown.”
Clearly uncertain what his reaction would be she breathed a soft sigh of relief. If it were possible, Adam would have kicked himself for convincing her she must have his approval for such a simple thing as choosing her own gowns.
What an arrogant ass he had been.
“Do you like it? The color is rather bold.”
“You have never looked so beautiful,” he said sincerely.
“Thank you.” Adam was relieved when her wariness receded and a faintly teasing glint entered her dark eyes. “I suppose I should confess that I have purchased several more gowns and a countless number of bonnets.”
He easily followed her lighthearted teasing. “Ah, there are no doubt matching slippers and gloves?”
“Of course, although I did limit myself to only five new fans.”
“Will I be forced to give up my dressing room to make room for your numerous purchases?”
She gave a sudden chuckle. “I shall contrive to keep them contained to my own wardrobe.”
He moved to lightly stroke a dark curl that lay against her cheek. “I am willing to sacrifice to see such a smile,” he admitted, his lips twisting with a rueful humor. “And I am honest enough to admit that your sense of fashion is vastly superior to my own.”
A soft blush rose to her countenance. “Nonsense.”
“No, it is the simple truth,” he admitted, then sensing her growing discomfort, he deliberately shifted the conversation. “How does your portrait go?”
Her expression immediately brightened. “Very well, despite the Vicar’s grumbling at having to sit for so long. Poor Cook is forced to rise an hour early just to ensure that we have an ample supply of lemon tarts.”
Adam gave an amused shake of his head at Humbly’s passion for sweets.
“You have all the supplies that you need?”
“Yes, indeed,” she swiftly assured him. “The studio is perfect.”
“Good.”
She glanced through her lashes in an almost coy manner. “I have never possessed such a place of my own. I feel shamelessly spoiled.”
His hand shifted to cup her cheek, his gaze lowering to the tempting curve of her lips.
“Not spoiled, Addy, simply appreciated.” The distracting lips parted at his soft words, but before he could take advantage of the unspoken invitation the reverberating sound of the second gong had him reluctantly pulling away. “Damn. I suppose we should go through.”
A hint of devilment shimmered in her eyes. “Cook would be most disappointed if we allowed her meal to become cold.”
Adam heaved a resigned sigh. “I feared you would say that.” He held out his arm. “Come, we cannot have a mutiny in the kitchen.”
Together they moved to the dining room, allowing themselves to be seated at the large mahogany table. It was an elegant room with tangerine walls and gilded cornices. Several fine Wedgwood platters were placed upon a side table along with sterling silver platters that had been collected by his family for generations.
Adam’s only thought, however, was for the woman seated across from him as they partook of the various dishes. Although he fully appreciated her easy conversation and occasional teasing comments, he was anxious to finish the meal and have the opportunity to lure her to his chamber.
Indeed, it was near purgatory not to simply bolt down the food and toss her over his shoulder.
It was not until dessert was set before him that he took any notice of the food being set before him. Regarding the pale, smooth delicacy he lifted his head in surprise.
“Custard? Is this your doing?”
She appeared charmingly self-conscious. “I recalled you saying that it was a favorite of yours when you were young.”
Adam felt his heart warm to her obvious effort to please him. It was a tangible symbol of the change in their relationship.
“Yes, indeed. My mother would often slip it up to my room when I had been banished by my father for some misdeed.”
She gave a startled laugh at his confession. “I cannot imagine that happened very often.”
The unwelcome image of his father’s forbidding countenance rose to mind. Adam did not particularly desire to brood upon Franklin Drake tonight. The memories always held an edge of bittersweet pain.
“More times than I could possibly count,” he grudgingly revealed. “My father had a wide definition of what constituted misbehavior.”
“He was a very stern gentleman,” she agreed softly.
“I do not believe I ever saw him smile.”
“Never?”
Adam smiled wryly. “Not even when I surprised him with a picture I had painted of him for his birthday when I was just five.”
“Oh, I am certain he must have appreciated your gift,” she protested.
Adam’s features unknowingly hardened. “Actually I was confined to my chamber for a week for dripping paint on my new coat.”
Addy sucked in a sharp breath at his words. “That is horrid.”
Realizing that he had revealed more than he had intended, Adam gave a restless shrug.
“My father strongly believed that offering indulgence to a child was destructive to their character.”
“Balderdash!”
Adam gave a choked laugh at her fierce tone. “Yes, well, I suppose in his own way he was attempting to be a good father.”
Addy did not appear to be appeased. Instead the dark eyes flashed with a surprising anger.
“He would have been a better father had he spent less time chastising you and more time simply appreciating what a fine son he possessed.”
Adam was struck sharply by the motherly concern in her voice.
Good heavens, he had never thought of Addy as a mother. Oh, he had certainly considered the vague notion they would eventually have children. He was not a complete simpleton. But to actually imagine this woman heavy with his child... to think of her with a baby in her arms. It sent an indefinable emotion surging through his body.
He suddenly realized that he deeply desired children. And that he wanted this warm, wonderful woman to be their mother.
“As you would your own son?” he questioned in low tones.
Her spoon abruptly dropped onto the table with a loud clatter.
“I . . . yes, I hope I should be a loving mother,” she said in flustered tones.
Adam leaned forward. “I do not doubt you will be a wonderful mother.”
Her gaze abruptly lowered as a delightful warmth filled her cheeks.
“I have never really considered such a role.”
“You do desire children, do you not?” he demanded with a faint frown.
“Of course.”
Adam’s smile suddenly returned as relief poured through him. He realized he would have been fiercely disappointed if she had announced a dislike for carrying his child.
“Odd that we have never discussed the subject,” he mused.
Clearly not entirely comfortable with the intimate turn of the conversation, her hands dropped to her lap.
“I suppose most couples simply assume there will be children.”
“I should like to see our child in your arms,” he told her gently.
Her napkin slipped to the floor. “I ... It is difficult to imagine myself as a parent.”
Adam gave a small chuckle, taking a great delight in her shy embarrassment. It revealed she was no longer stoically indifferent to the process of creating such children.
“You at least have the benefit of having a happy childhood,” he said, hoping to ease her discomfort.
Slowly she raised her gaze to offer him a wry grimace. “Actually it was more chaotic than happy, I fear.”
Adam was taken aback by the low words. Addy had always seemed so attached to her family. In truth, he had wondered if she would ever be truly happy being separated from her parents.
“But they love you,” he insisted.
“In a very haphazard manner,” she conceded. “More often than not they forgot they even possessed children. We could disappear for days without them ever realizing we were missing.”
He searched her pale countenance with a faint puzzlement. “You always appeared quite content.”
“Oh, I was not unhappy,” she was quick to reassure him. “I possessed a great deal of freedom and I was encouraged to pursue my own interests. But there were times when I wished for a more stable environment.”
Adam slowly smiled, wishing she were close enough to touch. “Perhaps between the two of us we shall manage to discover a method between chaos and perfection.”
A silence fell as their gazes tangled and that ready awareness sparked to life.
With a hasty motion Adam rose to his feet. Gads, he could wait no longer.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes.” Pushing herself to her feet, Addy waited for him to take her hand and place it upon his arm. Together they moved out of the room and down the hall. Tilting back her head Addy offered him a teasing smile. “The house seems very quiet without Mr. Humbly.”
“Yes, indeed. Who would have thought that one vicar could create such a difference in a household?”
“It has been lovely to have him about,” she said hesitantly, as if uncertain whether Adam was as delighted as herself with their visitor.
“Oh, I agree. Not only is he a charming companion, he is far more wise than he would have others believe. In truth, he has a manner of forcing one to consider a situation from a viewpoint previously unnoticed.”
She gave a startled blink at his dry words. “You, too?”
He chuckled as he steered her into the salon and firmly shut the door behind them.
“I think he is also a rather devious gentleman as well.”
“But only with the best intentions.”
“I do hope so.” He gave a dramatic shudder. “I would not wish to think he would use such skills for nefarious purposes. London would not be safe.”
“Perhaps we should send a note to the Bishop warning him to be on guard?” she questioned with a smile.
“Definitely not.” Placing his hands upon her shoulders he gazed deep into her eyes. “I do not wish the Bishop to send Humbly back to us for several more hours.”
Her breath quickened and her eyes darkened at his suggestive words. Adam felt his own body react to her ready response. There was no stiffness in her body, no resignation upon her sweet countenance. Instead, a delightful flush of excitement bloomed beneath her skin.
“I thought you enjoyed his company,” she said in breathless tones.
“I do.” He deliberately stepped forward, surrounding himself in her lilac heat. “Just not as much as I enjoy having an entire evening alone with my wife.”
Her lips softly parted. “Oh.”
“Especially when she is looking like a beautiful gypsy,” he murmured.
A startling flare of uncertainty rippled across her expressive countenance.
“I am not beautiful.”
Adam was baffled by her lack of confidence. How could she not know how lovely she was? Every gentleman in London would be at her feet if she chose to honor them with her warm smile.
Which was no doubt the reason he had virtually cloistered her in this house, an unwelcome voice whispered in the back of his mind.
He was swift to banish the renegade thought.
Tonight was a new beginning.
It was his opportunity to prove to her once and for all that she was utterly and thoroughly cherished.
“Yes, you are,” he said gently, moving to take her hand and press it to his racing heart. “This is what you do to me when I gaze upon you.”
She nervously wet her lips, still uncertain.
“I.....”
A flare of unease raced through him at her sudden bout of nerves. Was he rushing her? Was she not yet prepared to surrender herself to the passions he could feel trembling through her body?
Adam gritted his teeth to try and control the desire raging through him.
He had sworn he would wait until the moment was right. Until she freely gave herself to him.
Even if it killed him.
And at the moment that seemed a distinct possibility.
“What is it, Addy?” he forced himself to ask in calm tones.
There was a moment’s pause before she drew in a steadying breath.
“I do not know what to do.”
He gave a faint frown. “What do you mean?”
“I do not know how to please you.”
Giddy relief nearly sent him to his knees.
She was not frightened or disgusted by his touch, he thought with a dizzy pleasure. Instead she was concerned for his own needs.
His hands moved to frame her lovely countenance, slightly trembling from the force of his emotions.
“Addy, it is very simple,” he said huskily. “Tell me that you desire me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
His head bent slowly downward. “And that you want my kisses.”
“Yes.”
He teased her lips with light, feathery kisses, using his tongue to softly outline her generous mouth.
“And my touch ...” he murmured, his hands following the delicate line of her neck.
She shuddered beneath his soft caress.
“Yes.”
Wondering if he could possibly make it upstairs to his chambers or rather to simply carry her to the nearby sofa, Adam trailed his fingers along the provocative line of her gown.
His entire body clenched with a searing heat.
The sofa.
Definitely the sofa.
“Addy, I must ...”
His rasping words had barely left his mouth when the door to the salon was thrown open and a shrill female voice pierced the air.
“Surprise, surprise!”