He pulled out a handkerchief and dried her cheeks. “Hush now. Even if I hadn’t given you my word, I have neither the time nor the energy to keep a mistress—and certainly not the inclination. I’m married to this irresistible young lady, you see . . .”
He drew her against him, tilted her face up and lowered his mouth to hers. As always, one thing led to another and he took her to bed and made love to her, slow, tender and a little bittersweet.
She loved him. She ached to tell him, but she couldn’t, not now, after their first quarrel. It would be the worst time in the world for that—even if he wanted it, which he’d made it clear he didn’t.
She’d taken a risk, accusing him of infidelity. She didn’t regret it, though, because it had cleared the air. More or less. She lay quietly, enjoying the sensation of being snuggled close to her big warm husband.
“Go to sleep if you like,” he said, sitting up. “I have to go out.”
He slipped out of bed and started to dress.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
She made an irritated sound, and he turned. “What?”
“You’re always so secretive.”
“What do you mean?
“This, this ‘business’ of yours that I’m not allowed to know about, and why do you have to sleep the night in your club so often?” She gave him a half-embarrassed look. “It gave credence to the rumors about you having a mistress.”
He didn’t answer. He was tying his neckcloth. But when he finished he said, “I stay away from you for several nights a week in order to spare you.”
“Spare me from what? I don’t mind if you come in late, or drunk, or smelling of cigars.”
“From my attentions.” She gave him a puzzled look, so he went on. “In the hotel we have only one bed. Since we’ve been living here, I’ve made love to you every single night I’ve slept here. And then—because I awake and find you in my bed, I make love to you again in the morning.”
“Yes, what of it?” He said it as if it were a problem. She didn’t find it so. Quite the contrary.
“It occurred to me that it might be too much for you—my intemperate desire. Morning and night and then morning again.” He made a rueful gesture. “And at other times, like now.”
She couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t she made it clear how she felt? “Edward, I am thrilled whenever we make love—however often, whatever time. Surely you know that? The nights you’ve stayed at your club, only a few minutes’ walk away, I thought you didn’t want me.” She took a deep breath and added, “And when I thought you’d taken a mistress I thought it was because I hadn’t pleased you in bed.”
He stared down at her with a look of amazement. “How could you possibly think that?” He gave a harsh laugh. “A fine pair we make: me thinking I was pestering you too much, and you imagining you didn’t please me enough. For the record, madam, let it be known that you drive me wild with desire, and everything you do pleases me enormously.”
“Truly?”
“Are you doubting my word again?”
“No, of course not. Then what is this secret business you’re always going away on?”
“Exactly what I said—business. I suppose I should have explained earlier, since it affects you.” He sat on the bed again. “You know I am my grandfather’s heir.”
She nodded.
“You have probably assumed that my income comes from the family estate, but it doesn’t. I decided years ago that I would earn a living for myself, separately—nothing to do with the estate. I own—personally own—several manufactories. I have interests in two mines, a canal company and I have recently become part owner of a ship. All that takes time. I won’t take a penny from my grandfather.”
“But why? I thought you loved your grandfather.”
“I do, but I cannot justify taking money from an estate that I never visit. And when my grandfather dies, I won’t be running it—I intend to put in a manager.”
“But why? I don’t understand. If you care for your grandfather, why wouldn’t you—?”
“Just leave it, will you?” he said brusquely, and stood up. “Just accept that’s how it is.”
“Very well.” It was very strange, though, and she wanted to know more. But it would keep. She’d pushed him far enough today.
She watched him dressing, and thought again about Sylvia and the whole incident. She thought about the choice of tea shop, and where they’d each been seated. And the coincidence of Edward and that woman meeting like that. It couldn’t possibly have been accidental.
She sat up abruptly. “Edward! She planned the whole thing.”
He picked up his coat “Who did? What?”
“Sylvia—Nixon’s cousin. She’s been oh-so-innocent and misunderstood about the whole thing, but she’s shown her hand too clearly now with this mistress nonsense.” She gave him an excited look. “Sylvia cajoled me into meeting her for tea. She chose the place and the time. As for that woman, I’m certain she arranged for her to come and accost you in front of that hotel.” She broke off, frowning. “Oh, but how did she know you’d be there?”
“That fellow I went to meet never showed. I’d received a note that if I wanted to know Nixon’s whereabouts I should come to the Excelsior at two fifteen precisely and bring twenty pounds.”
“Nixon?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Another thing I’ve kept secret from you. I’ve been trying to track down Nixon. By all accounts the villain is still in England. I have several men on the job, but most of the investigating I’m doing myself.”
“But why on earth keep that a secret from me?”
He gave her a curious look and said slowly, “I thought it might upset you,
