TWENTY
HE LEFT ALICIA’S SIDE JUST AFTER DAWN, EARLIER THAN recent habit but after last night, he wanted nothing more than to have done with A. C.
After last night…he had even less idea what was wrong between them. Something, yes, but he’d be damned if he had a clue. If he pushed, twelve hours might result in them unmasking A. C., then he would be free to devote himself to the most important endeavor of his life—wooing Alicia, even winning her anew, if that’s what was required.
Frowning, he left his apartments. After last night, he could hardly have missed the fact that she was as he’d hoped, openly, generously, totally his. If that was so, then what else was there? From where did their problem, whatever it was, spring?
Confusion reigned. Reaching Alicia’s door, he determinedly put it from him, turned the knob, and entered.
She was still asleep. He sat on the bed and looked down at her, then gently shook her shoulder.
“Hmm?” She opened her eyes; he notched up her lack of surprise when she focused on him as a minor victory.
“I’m off to hunt down A. C. We’re breakfasting at the club to work out our best approach. We need to learn who owns Ellicot, then proceed from there, but whatever we do—”
“You have to make sure you don’t alert A. C.” She was wide-awake now, studying his face, her gaze earnest but watchful.
He hesitated; he wanted to say something about last night, about them, but didn’t know what, and couldn’t find the words.
“Stay on guard.” Squeezing her hand, he rose. “If we stumble and alert him, I’d expect him to run, but…he’s kept his head until now.”
“We’ll be careful.” She struggled up on her elbows.
“Good.” Backing, he raised a hand in farewell. She was naked beneath the covers, now sliding slowly down; he didn’t trust himself to kiss her, and stop at just a kiss. Last night had left them both with enough to think about.
“I’ll be back this evening, if not before.”
She nodded. “Take care.”
At the door, he glanced back and saw her watching him. He inclined his head, and left.
Closing the door, he turned. David, Harry, and Matthew stood shoulder to shoulder across the corridor staring unblinkingly up at him.
“I was just telling Alicia where I’d be today.”
“Oh.” David considered his reply to their unspoken question, then nodded and turned to the stairs. “Are you going down to breakfast?”
Harry and Matthew swung around and followed.
Drawing a relieved breath, Tony fell in in their wake. “No—I have to go out straightaway.”
Reaching the stairs, David and Harry clattered down.
Matthew stopped and turned to him. “Are you going to marry Alicia?”
Tony looked down into the big eyes fixed innocently on his face. “Yes. Of course.”
The other boys had stopped halfway down to listen; now they whooped joyously, and thundered on down.
Matthew simply smiled. “Good.” He took Tony’s hand and, with simple gravity, accompanied him down the stairs.
Two hours later, Alicia strolled the lawns in the park, alone but for Maggs, tactfully keeping watch from a distance.
All about her was quiet and serene. It was too early for the fashionable throng; a few latecomers were still exercising their horses on Rotten Row, but most riders had already clattered home while the matrons and their daughters had yet to arrive.
The solitude and fresh air were precisely what she craved.
After the door had closed behind Tony, she’d lain in bed for ten minutes before the insistent refrain playing in her brain had prodded her into action. Ringing for Bertha, she’d washed, dressed, and joined Miranda and Adriana in the breakfast parlor.
Miranda and Adriana had been busy organizing their morning’s engagements; she’d excused herself on the grounds of a slight headache and her need for a quiet walk to refresh herself. Accepting her excuse, the other two had left to get ready to visit Lady Carlisle; she’d climbed to the schoolroom and checked on her brothers, then quit the house, Maggs at her heels as per his “master’s orders.”
She’d accepted his escort with equanimity; she’d grown quite fond of the unprepossessing man. Interpreting his orders to watch over her literally, he’d retreated to stand beneath a large tree, now some distance away, leaving her to her thoughts.
Which were what she’d come to the park to confront.
It—her present tack—wasn’t going to work. She’d thought her best way forward was to adhere strictly to her position as Tony’s mistress and not wish for more, to rein in her dreams and accept what she’d been given, what he’d freely offered. But that view was fatally flawed— last night had proved it, had illustrated the truth beyond doubt.
The connection between them, so much more, so much stronger than any mere physical link, was not compatible with, would not remain constrained within, the bounds of the relationship of a nobleman and his mistress. Their connection was a vital thing, a living force in and of itself; it was growing, burgeoning, already demanding more.
Last night, she’d nearly told him she loved him, had had to fight to swallow the words. Some night soon she’d lose that fight. One way or another, the truth would out—
She might already be carrying his child; it was too early to know, yet the possibility existed. In the beginning, she’d assumed he’d know what to do, would take precautions, yet he hadn’t, nor had he expected her to. If she’d been shocked by her wanton behavior last night, her reaction to the idea of bearing Tony’s child had only confirmed how little attention she’d paid her to her latent hopes, aspirations, and dreams. Until now.
In her heart, and now very clearly in her mind, she knew what she wanted. The question facing her was how to get it; leaving matters as they were was, she now accepted, no longer an option.
Drawing in a breath, she lifted her head and looked unseeing at some distant trees. She’d taken serious risks to secure Adriana’s and her brothers’ futures, boldly gambled and won. It was time to act in pursuit of her own future—to realize the dreams she’d never allowed herself to dream but which Tony had brought alive.
She would speak with him. She felt her chin set. Just as soon as A. C. was in custody, she would talk to Tony, explain how she felt about them, about their future. How he would react was the risk, the unknown, yet… she had his declaration of love to lean on, and, indeed, more. Their connection itself; through it she sensed how he felt, his need, even if he didn’t consciously acknowledge it. In time, he would recognize the truth as she had, and reassess as she had, and adjust.
Grimacing, she looked down. She would be gambling that their love truly was as she saw it—a huge risk, yet one she felt compelled to take.
The thud of footsteps approaching over the grass reached her. Looking up, she saw a footman in plain black livery striding purposefully her way.
Glancing to the left, she saw Maggs, leaning against the tree trunk, come alert, but as the footman halted and bowed, Maggs relaxed and resumed his unobtrusive watch.
“For you, ma’am.”
The footman proffered a note. She took it, opened it, read it, and inwardly cursed. Chickens were coming home to roost thick and fast. Sir Freddie Caudel most formally and politely requested an interview.
She looked across the lawn to the black carriage drawn up on the gravel drive. With a sigh, she tucked the
