CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kitty arose early the following morning after a restless night. The sky held the promise of a summer’s day, azure blue dotted with fluffy clouds, and her heart…her foolish heart…swelled with joy at the promise of time to spend with Adam. She steadied herself on the windowsill as she leaned towards the glass, gazing mindlessly at the garden below and the parkland beyond. What should she do? She knew Adam. At least, she knew the young man he had been. And the fire that now kindled openly in his blue eyes whenever he looked her way suggested he felt as passionately about her as he had back then. They’d not had a moment alone together yesterday after Robert returned from his search and, if she was honest, her main feeling had been one of relief. It had given her the whole of the night to think about what she wanted. About how she would react when Adam kissed her again, as he inevitably would.

Her skin prickled as a shiver chased over her. She wanted his kiss. Even more after yesterday. That kiss had been an entrée and had only whetted her appetite for more. More kisses. More caresses. More…everything.

But how much everything did she mean? That was the question that had her tossing and turning throughout the night. Her only certainty was that, whatever everything meant, it must be purely physical.

The door opened behind her and Effie entered, carrying a gently steaming pitcher.

‘You’re awake early, milady.’ She crossed to the washstand and poured the water into the basin. ‘Which gown shall I lay out for you?’

‘Oh, any of them will—no. Actually, I shall wear my blue muslin.’

‘Very well.’

‘Effie, are the gentlemen up and about yet?’

‘Yes’m.’ The maid’s voice was muffled as she rummaged in the clothes press. ‘I saw Lord Kelridge going downstairs just now and His Lordship has been up for hours.’ She straightened, the blue sprigged muslin draped across her arms. She shook the gown out and held it up, examining it with a critical eye. ‘I don’t think this needs pressing, milady, but maybe I should, just in case.’ She turned for the door.

‘Effie…no. The gown is barely creased and what there is will soon drop out.’

* * *

By the time she had washed and dressed and was alone again, Kitty was no nearer a decision on that all-important question. She would not…could not…risk opening her heart to the pain she had suffered before, yet she did not wish to deny the cravings of her own body. Cravings she had never before experienced…or, at least, not with such intensity. Before, in her marriage, there had been the odd fleeting hint of greater pleasure in the marital act. Nothing more than a glimpse of something more exotic, more intoxicating, that quickly evaporated, like the fast-fading memory of a dream upon waking. Now, her curiosity had been piqued.

Could she satisfy that curiosity without risking her heart? Men did it all the time—satisfied the lusts of their bodies without their emotions being involved.

But this is Adam. Your emotions are already involved, whether you like it or not.

She acknowledged the truth of it. So, the question became…was her curiosity, and that deep-down hum of need, strong enough for her to take the risk of heartache if she followed her desires? At least, this time, she knew there would be no fairy-tale ending. Not when Adam would need an heir. This time, she would not expect a pot of anything at the end of the rainbow.

She went downstairs and into the parlour where breakfast was laid out on the sideboard.

‘Good morning. How is your arm today?’

Adam paused in the act of raising his coffee cup. The table before him was bare of crockery or food, suggesting he had finished eating. As Kitty helped herself to a boiled egg and a slice of toast, he returned her greeting, adding, ‘It is still sore to the touch but, otherwise, much better, thank you. I trust you slept well?’

‘Very well, thank you. And you?’

‘Well enough. Well—if I’m honest, I was restless.’

Kitty sat opposite him. ‘I am not surprised. Being shot would have that effect.’

He captured her gaze, and that same fire in his eyes—banked low for now—quickened her pulse and fractured her breathing. Heavens! Did she have any choice but to explore this further? If he could heat her blood with one look, what more might he do with a kiss? A touch? The memory of the day before—those feelings—shivered through her.

‘Coffee, milady?’

She jumped at Vincent’s quiet murmur close behind her. The coffee pot appeared next to her. He filled her cup and his arm withdrew. The interruption had allowed her to bring her emotions back under control. She scraped butter on to her toast and bit into it. Behind her, she heard Vincent leave the room.

‘It was not being shot that disturbed my sleep.’ Adam’s comment was no less forceful for being so quiet. ‘It was you, Kitty. You were on my mind.’ His eyes burned into her. ‘I—’ He broke off as Robert’s voice rang out from outside the room. ‘We need to talk, Kitty. Come to the library later, after Rob goes out. Please?’

Kitty nodded her head as Robert—full of cheer and early morning energy—breezed into the room.

* * *

It was almost eleven before Robert left the house, intending to visit his bank. Kitty—her nerves winding ever tighter at the thought of a tête-à-tête with Adam—suggested she might accompany Robert and pay a visit to her dressmaker, but Robert fobbed her off, saying he intended to be in and out of the bank in a flash and there was far too much demanding his attention back here at the Hall for him to have time to waste while Kitty shopped. Kitty recoiled at his brusqueness, so unlike Robert.

‘My apologies, Stepmama. I had no right to snap at you. This business with Adam is bothering me…he told me this morning he intends to ride out this afternoon. I cannot stop him, I know, but I cannot help but worry there may be another attempt on him. I need to be back in time to accompany him.’

‘But…you will then put yourself at risk, Rob. You must not.’

And neither must Adam.

He gave her a brief hug. ‘Don’t you worry about me! Besides, why are you not hard at work writing? I thought you would relish the opportunity to spend more time on it while Charis is away.’

‘I am not in the mood for it today.’ She was far too distracted to even try to lose herself in her story. Her heroine must wait patiently until Kitty was in the right frame of mind to rescue her from that cliff face she clung to, praying that hero Jason would find her before the evil Lord Sidney—desperate to stop her revealing his plan to kill young Arthur—spotted her hiding place and hurled her into the foaming seas far below.

Robert smiled down at her. ‘That is understandable. We are all of us unsettled. Give me a few days, until we have a clearer idea of what happened, and then I will gladly escort you to town to visit your modiste and to shop to your heart’s content.’

Kitty thanked him, knowing she would not accept his offer. She had no wish to shop…she had, like a coward, impulsively seized upon the idea as an excuse to delay the forthcoming talk with Adam. She was still no more certain of what she would say or do.

She approached the library with dragging feet.

But when Adam looked up and saw her…when he jumped up and rounded the desk…when he strode towards her…all indecision fled. She stepped into his arms. They folded around her and she leaned into his strength, breathing in his spicy maleness, her head against his chest. The steady thump-thump-thump of his heart reassured her; the heat of his body relaxed her. It felt like coming home.

Kitty thrust her hands between them and pushed against his chest, only the fabric of his shirt separating her palms and his skin. As yesterday, he had discarded his jacket and was dressed in shirt sleeves and unbuttoned waistcoat. When his embrace loosened, she stepped away. She folded her arms.

‘Robert tells me you intend to ride out this afternoon. Are you mad?’

She hadn’t meant her first words to be so confrontational, but she couldn’t bear to see him put himself into danger.

Adam quirked a brow. He crossed to the place where he had been working, then turned to face her, hitching one hip up to perch on the desk, and folded his own arms.

‘I will not skulk indoors shivering in my shoes.’

Of course he would not.

‘He…they…might try again.’

‘Then that will give me the opportunity to discover who he is. Or who they are.’ His lips quirked in a smile. ‘Kitty… I will not be alone. Robert and two grooms will be with me. And I will be on my guard. Yesterday, neither of us had any notion that someone might mean mischief. I don’t know about you, but I was giving none of my attention to our surroundings.’

His smiled faded. His gaze heated. His voice deepened. ‘I was far too interested in my companion.’

Awareness coiled deep in her belly and her pulse leapt.

‘You wanted to talk?’ The question emerged as a squeak.

‘I did.’ He stood. ‘I do.’

He beckoned and Kitty moved towards him. All at once it no longer mattered that she still had no plan about what to say or what to do. This, she realised, was about instinct. It was about feelings. It was about spontaneity. It was about doing what was right for her in this moment. She had lived her life looking forward, not back. But this need not be about the future. That would happen come what may. This was about now.

She paused an arm’s length from him. ‘What did you want to say?’

Alive to every nuance in his expression, she saw his eyes narrow infinitesimally before creasing in a smile.

‘I want to say…words are overrated.’ He took her hands, his thumbs circling her palms as he held her gaze. Her breath grew short. ‘Actions. Now they have more…value.’

He moved then, walking backwards, still holding her hands, thumbs still caressing. She followed. Not coerced. Not pulled in his wake. She followed willingly as he backed around the painted screen that shielded the reading corner from the rest of the room. He released her hands and she raised them to his shoulders as waves of longing heated her blood and sweet anticipation coursed through her.

Strong fingers flexed at her waist as his mouth swooped on hers, crushing her lips in a fiery kiss. She pressed close, her hands tangling in his hair, her fingers curving around the solid shape of his skull. That distant thrum of need strengthened, growing ever more insistent as her insides melted and her body moulded to his.

He tore his lips from hers. ‘Kitty.’

His groan lingered in the air as he trailed hot kisses across her jaw and down her throat. Her head fell back, her eyes drifting shut as everything faded away. Everything but Adam and the feelings conjured up by the magic of his lips on her skin and the caress of his hands as they swept her body, stroking, fondling. She savoured the sheer joy of all that latent power, harnessed and controlled, as Adam skimmed her skin with the finest and tenderest of touches. His fingers released the buttons fastening the bodice of her gown and he opened it, spreading it wide to allow him to release both of her breasts from her corset. He kneaded them, his thumbs rubbing her nipples before he dipped his head and tasted her, sucking one hardened bud deep into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue as his fingers played with the other.

Need climbed within her and she thrust her fingers through his hair as pressure built inside…a craving for more. And more. How had she never felt this before?

She pressed her hips closer to him and the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her belly aroused an urgency she’d never experienced, and she slipped a hand between them to stroke his length. His groan vibrated against the bare skin of her shoulder, where he’d pulled aside her gown to press hot kisses, as her other hand reached for his breeches’ buttons. She released him, wrapping her fingers around him—all silken skin sheathed over hard, hot iron—following her instinct as she squeezed and stroked, and caressed the rounded tip with the pad of her thumb. Never had she held her husband in such a way.

‘Kiss me,’ she whispered and hungry lips seized hers. Tongues tangling, they moved as one to the wing-backed chair, set with its back to the window. Adam sat, his hands on Kitty’s waist. He looked up at her.

‘Tell me you want this, Kitty. Tell me you want me.’

‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed.

She could not tear her gaze from his erection as it jutted proud through the open placket of his breeches. Adam grasped her skirts and gathered them high, then pulled her between his splayed legs to press his mouth to the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. She jerked as his tongue probed her secret, feminine lips, clutching his hair as her womb clenched and something hot and fierce leapt within her. He slid forward, nudging her back until he sat on the front edge of the seat, his hands on her hips, still holding her raised skirts clear. Then he pushed his legs between hers, forcing hers apart, and leaned back until his body stretched out before her. Beneath her.

Her intimate folds were swollen and wet and ready and aching with need. Her heart hammered. Her chest rose and fell ever faster. She was wanton; desirable; glorious. The tip of his shaft touched her entrance. Adam’s eyes were on her, watching, the flames leaping. His tongue snaked out to moisten his lips.

‘Just lower yourself,’ his voice rasped.

She did, her eyes locked on to his.

She sank down until he filled her. Stretching her. Fulfilling her.

She closed her eyes. And she closed her mind against the warnings clamouring to make themselves heard. At this moment, she did not care. For this moment, any risk was a risk worth taking. For now, her heart filled with joy as she began to move and as the sensations began to build within her. She propped her hands on his shoulders, feeling the edge of the bandage beneath her fingertips, reminding her not to grab at his arm. Her movements quickened and excitement bloomed and spread within her as she strained to reach the wonderful reward that she knew instinctively lay before her.

For now…this was everything.

Adam moved beneath her, thrusting up again and again in time with her own movements. His lips closed around her nipple and he sucked hard, then nipped. Her gasp feathered through the quiet of the library and her fingers clenched, grabbing folds of his shirt. Higher and higher she climbed, but that pinnacle stayed just out of reach until he reached between her legs and stroked that secret nub of flesh she hadn’t even known existed.

She reached the edge and took flight, sucking in a huge lungful of air. Then his mouth covered hers, swallowing her cry as ecstasy pulsed through her, turning her entire body into a quivering, fluid mass. She collapsed against him, tearing her mouth from his as she panted, her energy spent as those ripples slowed, the spaces between them lengthened, and her brain scrambled to make sense of the conflicting emotions tumbling through her.

It was wonderful…she wanted to experience that all over again. And again.

And that scared her. No. It petrified her. Had she truly believed she could satisfy her curiosity and her lust so easily? As she steadied and those tumbling emotions quieted, the realisation growing that this was not enough, would never be enough…that she would always crave him, as long as he was near…that was what petrified her.

Could she cope with occasional liaisons until he decided to marry? Would that ever be enough for her? Could she still protect her heart?

She could no longer deny her love for Adam, but even if he had marriage in mind for their future—and even if she could find the courage to marry again—she could never accept him because she could not give him the heir he would need.

And though she loathed self-pity, the burn of tears at the back of her eyes told her she was in danger of wallowing in it. It seemed so unfair. She had always longed for a child of her own and now her barrenness would rob her of any chance of a future with Adam, doubling the torment of her failure as a woman as she added the loss of the man she loved to her childlessness.

But she must find the courage from somewhere to protect them both—her from the future agony that was now inevitable and him from the self-sacrifice of marrying a barren woman and living to regret it.

She lay still, snuggled into Adam’s strong chest, safe for now in his embrace, reluctant to move and to face reality.