Chapter Eleven
Addy felt as if she had been tossed headfirst into an icy pond.
One moment she had been melting beneath the extraordinary sensations Adam was stirring within her and the next she was pulling away to gaze in horror at the open door.
Her horror did not lessen at the sight of the beautiful woman with dark hair and flashing emerald eyes. Or the short, thin gentleman with silver hair and elegant attire that joined the woman.
It was bad enough to have her evening alone with Adam interrupted. To have it interrupted by her flamboyant, unpredictable parents was the height of ghastly luck.
Blinking in the hope that it was all some horrid nightmare, she at last concluded they were not about to disappear.
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “Mother.”
Oblivious to the realization that she had clearly interrupted a romantic interlude, or even heard Addy’s less than enthusiastic greeting, Lady Morrow smiled in a smug fashion.
“Darling, Addy, did we surprise you?”
Painfully aware of the silent gentleman at her side, Addy grimaced.
“That is one way of putting it.”
Lady Morrow gave a tinkling laugh. “I told your father when we decided to travel to London that it would be such a surprise for our sweet Addy, did I not, Morrow?”
“No doubt you did.” Lord Morrow yawned with obvious boredom. “There had been an incessant stream of words pouring from your lips since we entered the carriage. Thankfully I long ago discovered to ignore your babbling.”
Lady Morrow cast a glare toward her husband. “Really, Morrow.”
Knowing how swiftly her parents’ conversations could deteriorate into flaming rows, Addy was swift to intervene.
“Mother, what are you doing here?”
Thankfully distracted, the older woman returned her attention to her daughter.
“Well, it had been so terribly long since we have seen you, my dearest. Naturally we thought to wait until you issued an invitation, but when one never arrived I decided you must have completely forgotten your poor mother. I was determined to discover for myself that you were well and happy.”
It would have been a touching speech if Addy hadn’t known quite well her mother was lying. Although her parents had always been fond of their children they had never troubled themselves to ensure they were well and happy. To them a child out of sight was indeed out of mind.
No, whatever had brought them to London, it had nothing to do with concern for her.
“I have written several letters assuring you that all was well,” she pointed out in dry tones.
Lady Morrow waved a slender hand. Although well past forty she remained a beautiful woman with a sultry expression and a figure that was the envy of women half her age. It was little wonder gentleman of every age scrambled to attract her attention.
“A letter is not the same as seeing you with my own eyes. Any mother would feel the same.”
“Perhaps most mothers,” Addy muttered before she could halt the words.
“Addy.” Lady Morrow widened her eyes with a pretense of shock. “Surely you are delighted to have us for a visit?”
“Actually ...” Addy began, only to be interrupted as Adam stepped smoothly forward.
“We are, of course, quite happy to have you as our guests.”
“Thank you, Adam,” the older woman gushed, shooting Addy a chastising glance. “I should not wish to feel we were unwelcome.”
Addy winced at her mother’s less than subtle dig. “Of course you are not unwelcome, Mother,” she forced herself to say. “I am merely caught off guard by your sudden arrival.”
Her father gave a short laugh. “A nice way of saying she is horrified,” he teased. “I told you that we shouldn’t just descend like so much baggage.”
Lady Morrow gave a loud sniff. “Nonsense. We are family.”
“The very worse sort of guests,” Lord Morrow concluded, echoing Addy’s own thoughts. “You can’t close the door on them, eh Drake?”
Adam gave a slight nod of his head. “No, I suppose not. Addy, why do you not ring for Mrs. Hall?”
With great reluctance Addy moved to tug the velvet rope. At the same moment Lady Morrow began a detailed inspection of the salon, her sharp gaze lingering on the priceless paintings adorning the walls.
“My is this not lovely? I have always desired a London townhouse.” She abruptly paused before an oil landscape. “Oh my, is this an original?”
“Yes,” Adam assured her. “My father was a great collector.”
The older woman moved toward the bay window. “And such a lovely view. I understand that there is a duke in the neighborhood.”
Adam’s lips twitched with inner amusement and Addy breathed a faint sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t furious at her parents’ rude intrusion.
At least not yet, she reminded herself.
It was too much to hope that Lord and Lady Morrow would not create a whirlwind of chaos with them.
“We keep a stray one about to inflate our consequence,” Adam said in suspiciously bland tones. “He is, unfortunately, quite elderly and his heir apparent detests London. Soon we shall be reduced to an earl and two viscounts.”
Missing the humor in his words Lady Morrow heaved a sigh. “How vexing.”
“Yes, indeed.”
Suddenly brightening, Lady Morrow turned back to regard the large room.
“Still, it is a well-situated house. You no doubt are besieged with visitors.”
A flare of alarm raced through Addy.
The mere thought of her mother’s notion of entertainment was enough to make her swoon.
Memories of drunken poets, belligerent radicals, and gentlemen attired in nothing more than fig leaves flared through her mind.
Dear heavens, Adam would toss the lot of them into the street.
And she would not blame him.
“Actually we live very quietly, Mother,” she said sternly.
“Quietly?” Lady Morrow appeared genuinely baffled. “Why on earth would you wish to live quietly when you could have all of London dancing attendance upon you?”
“I do not desire to have all of London in my home.”
“Absurd.” Her mother gave a click of her tongue. “If I owned such a setting I would be the most celebrated hostess in London.”
Addy shuddered at the thought, but it was her father who took Lady Morrow to task.
“But you do not own such a setting, my dear. And Addy is mistress here. If she wishes to live quietly, then it is her choice.”
A decidedly worrisome glint entered the emerald eyes. “She is no doubt merely intimidated. The ton can be so very fickle. With my guidance I am certain she shall soon discover just how simple it is to become the talk of the town.”
Talk of the town?
Dear heavens, could anything be worse, Addy wondered.
“Mother ...”
Addy’s plea was interrupted as the housekeeper stepped into the room and regarded the unexpected guests in surprise. Adam once again took command of the situation.
“Ah, Mrs. Hall, would you please show Lord and Lady Morrow to the yellow chamber?”
“Certainly, sir.” The servant glanced toward the older couple. “If you would follow me?”
Moving toward the door Lady Morrow blew Addy an airy kiss. “We shall see you in the morning, dearest.”
Her father in contrast flashed her a wry grin. “Chin up, Addy. I shall endeavor to keep your mother from driving us all batty.”
The sound of Lady Morrow chastising her husband could be heard as the trio moved down the hall and up the stairs to their rooms.
At long last, blessed silence returned to the room and moving to the sofa Addy collapsed onto the cushions.
Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought her parents would travel to London. At least not without a proper invitation.
Which was ridiculous, she sternly lectured herself.
When had her parents ever considered what was proper?
Although they would never deliberately cause another pain, they were like children who readily indulged their every whim. They never considered whether their actions might be inconvenient or even embarrassing to another. And they certainly never considered the notion that they should control their impulses. If it brought them enjoyment that was all that mattered.
Good heavens, what was she to do?
Visions of digging a deep hole in the garden rose to mind.
Her pleasant notion was brought to an end as Adam settled his large frame beside her and smiled in a rueful fashion.
“Well, that is a rather effective means of putting an end to an evening of romance.”
Addy’s expression was one of distress. “I am sorry.”
He gave a shake of his head as he gently gathered her hands in his own.
“There will be other evenings, my dear.” He smiled with wicked anticipation. “Or at least I hope so.”
Although Addy appreciated his attempt to lighten her mood, her heart felt too heavy to respond.
The poor man obviously had no notion of the destruction her parents could wreak upon their quiet household.
If he did he would no doubt be fleeing in terror.
“No, I meant that I am sorry that my parents have descended upon us in such a fashion,” she said in low tones.
He squeezed her hands in reassurance. “It is no doubt our own fault for not having invited them sooner. Frankly it never occurred to me that they might be concerned for your welfare.”
Addy gave an unladylike snort. “No doubt because they have never been concerned for my welfare before.”
“They did travel a goodly distance to see you.”
“Me? Fah.” She turned to meet his steady gaze. She had already deduced the reason for her mother’s visit. “My mother has always longed for a London townhouse. She has no doubt been counting the days until she could reasonably establish her claim upon your home.”
“Our home,” he corrected in firm tones.
His gentle reminder only increased her misery. Adam had taken such an effort to please her over the past week. Never before had she felt so close to him. Never had her heart leaped and her breath quickened when he entered the room. Never before had she anxiously risen, eager to be out of her chambers and fly down the stairs to share breakfast with her husband.
Her marriage had suddenly seemed real. Her feelings for Adam had . . . well, to be perfectly honest, she had determined not to examine the odd tangle of warmth and breathless anticipation that assaulted her when she thought of her husband.
It was safer to simply enjoy the newfound peace.
And now that peace was about to be snatched away.
It was utterly unfair.
“This is terrible,” she moaned.
“Addy.” Reaching out he tilted her chin upward. The gray eyes closely inspected her drawn features. “What is it?”
There was little point in attempting to conceal her coiled fear. She did not doubt it was visible to the most obtuse soul. And no one could accuse Adam Drake of being obtuse.
“I may love my parents dearly, but we both know they will have this household in utter ruin before luncheon.”
Adam grimaced at the unarguable truth in her words.
“I can not pretend to be overly pleased by our visitors. Indeed, their timing could not be worse. But we can hardly throw them out of the house.”
“You will be ready enough to throw them out when the salon is overrun with every radical, poet, and artist in London,” she warned. “And, of course, there will be my mother’s inevitable string of admirers.”
He gave a dramatic shudder. “Gads, I do hope she does not decide to paint them in the nude. I do not believe poor Humbly could bear the shock.”
Addy regarded her husband with a vague wariness. “Adam, surely you do not find this amusing?”
His fingers moved to lightly stroke her cheek.
“Would you prefer that I storm about the room in fury?” he asked. “It would change nothing.”
She sighed. “No, I suppose not.”
“Do not fret. We will somehow manage to survive.”
“We might. I am not certain your reputation will.”
“Allow me to worry about my reputation,” he retorted.
“But you have always said ...”
He pressed a silencing finger to her lips, a hint of regret upon his countenance.
“I think we have already agreed I said far too much in the early days of our marriage.”
She felt a faint shiver at the intimacy of his touch. “You had some provocation, I fear.”
His soft laugh brushed her cheek. “Surely we are not now to argue over whether I was a fool or not?”
It took a long moment before a shaky smile at last curved her lips.
“No.”
“Good. I would much rather kiss you than argue with you.”
That swirling heat attacked her stomach as his gaze slowly lowered to her parted lips.
When she had first learned of the prospect of her evening alone with Adam she had told herself it was the perfect opportunity to prove that she could change as well.
She would welcome his kisses, she had told herself. She would prove she was no longer a petulant child, but a woman who could bring him pleasure.
And from the moment he had entered the salon, she realized that it would take no effort to respond to his touch. For days he had teased her with his fleeting caresses. He had stirred to life a strange excitement that had haunted her days and made her restlessly toss in her bed at night.
She had been as anxious as Adam to celebrate their evening alone.
Now she felt a deep pang of frustration.
Blast her parents.
“You would rather kiss me?” she encouraged softly.
The smoldering glow returned to the gray eyes. “Most definitely.”
“Oh,” she murmured, her lips parting as he lightly nuzzled the corner of her mouth.
“Now, this is how I intended to spend our evening.”
She arched toward him. “I see.”
Adam gave a wicked chuckle. “I would rather you just feel.”
Her hand raised to touch his lean cheek at the same moment the familiar voice of Vicar Humbly boomed through the room.
“Dear heavens, am I intruding?”
* * *
A dark cloud hung over Addy’s head.
It had been three days since her parents had landed themselves in her salon and while the townhouse had not actually crumbled at their arrival, she knew it was only a matter of time.
Each day had been fraught with strain as her father plunged himself into the giddy pleasures that London had to offer and her mother grew increasingly restless in the placid peace that dominated the household.
Adam had wisely returned to his routine of devoting his time to the War Department, while Addy waited in dread for the scandal to explode.
And there would be a scandal, she had no doubt, glancing in annoyance at her mother, who leaned over her shoulder and made disapproving noises beneath her breath.
Addy had fled to her studio with Mr. Humbly in an effort to distract her nervous tension. She had hoped that an hour or two of working upon the portrait would help to ease her mind. But they had barely begun when her mother had burst into the room and promptly proclaimed the portrait was thoroughly unsatisfactory.
“Perhaps just an angel in the corner,” Lady Morrow suggested in helpful tones.
“No, Mother.”
“Well, at least add some color in the background. It looks positively dreary.”
Addy gripped her brush so tightly it was a miracle that it did not snap.
“It is dignified.”
“Nonsense. It is merely drab.”
“Mother.” Addy glared at the older woman in obvious warning.
“Oh, very well,” her mother retorted peevishly. “It is your portrait. If Mr. Humbly does not mind, who am I to complain?” She abruptly straightened. “I believe I shall go and see if I can not discover a bit of excitement to liven this dull household.”
Addy experienced a familiar sick sensation in the pit of her stomach.
Her mother in search of excitement was always dangerous.
“Not too much excitement, Mother,” she warned.
Lady Morrow heaved a sigh. “Really, my dearest, you have become quite tedious since your marriage.”
“No, Mother, this has nothing to do with my marriage,” Addy corrected with a flare of insight. Since her marriage she had tried to paint her past with a rosy hue. Her resentment toward Adam had clearly befuddled her mind. It was only over the past few weeks that she had begun to realize that her life in the Morrow household had been anything but perfect. “I have never particularly enjoyed being embroiled in scandal. I just had no say in the matter when I was young. I do, however, have a say in this household.”
Her mother gave a startled blink at her words. “Whatever do you mean?”
Addy narrowed her gaze. “No drunken poets, no opera dancers, no radicals that still smell of Newgate, and no naked gentlemen in my salon.”
“Surely I am not to be confined to stuffy matrons?” Lady Morrow demanded.
Unrepentant, Addy gave a shrug. ‘You could always visit a museum or attend one of the numerous lectures being held throughout the city.”
The older woman pressed a hand to the magnificent bosom, readily exposed by the crimson gown.
“Horrid. I would as soon return to Surrey.”
Not willing to be manipulated by the shrewd woman, Addy offered a calm smile.
“Shall I call for your carriage?”
There was a tense silence before Lady Morrow tilted back her head to laugh with tinkling amusement.
“Very well. Ancient, creaking matrons it is. Until later, my dear.”
With a casual wave of her hand, Lady Morrow swept from the room, leaving behind a far from comforted Addy.
She believed her mother would be satisfied with consorting with proper matrons when she sprouted wings and a halo.
Whatever her promises. Lady Morrow would do precisely what she desired, regardless of Addy’s pleas. It was not that she deliberately desired to embarrass her daughter. She just could not help herself.
Slowly closing her eyes, Addy shook her head.
“Lord, give me patience.”
“Did you say something, Addy?” Mr. Humbly inquired from his position across the room.
Forcing her eyes open, Addy grimaced in resignation.
“Merely requesting a bit of heavenly assistance.”
The Vicar sent her a sympathetic smile. “Is it that bad?”
“My parents are not renown for their modest behavior or proper manners.”
“No.” His gaze became speculative. “But they will, indeed, add a bit of excitement to your household.”
Addy gave a violent shudder. “That is precisely what I am afraid of.”