“But of course. Unless we are expected at some midnight supper?” She raised a brow at him.
He smiled in sympathy. “No, our social obligations are over for the evening.” He waved a hand toward the door he had used to enter and continued, “Why don’t we talk in my room?”
Victoria nodded. It didn’t matter to her where they spoke; he wasn’t going to like what she said no matter the venue. Would he even believe her outlandish tale?
He had left the door ajar, so she crossed the threshold and then stopp
ed suddenly. So suddenly that Taviston bumped into her from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Candlelight and firelight softly bathed the room with a warm glow, and she caught a scent of roses. What had precipitated her abrupt halt was the enormous bed.
His bed.
A large four-poster sat back against one wall, with dark blue velvet hangings. She swallowed thickly, remembering what Taviston had promised about this night.
With her attention focused on the bed, she was at first unaware of Taviston. Then she felt his breath on her neck. His hot hands still clasped her shoulders and he had pulled her against his hard body. And against his hard body parts. Good Lord, the man was already aroused. She struggled to breathe. After sliding his hands down her arms, he walked around her.
Victoria narrowed her eyes at his back. If she didn’t know any better, she might think he was teasing her, sensually provoking her.
He leaned his tall frame against the foot of the bed and this time she did catch a flicker of merriment in his smoky grey eyes, which only made her nerves sing all the louder.
“What happened?”
Gliding over toward the blazing hearth, she faced him, watching his face intently, wanting to judge his true reaction, whatever his mouth might say.
“I was kidnapped.”
He bolted upright and closed the gap between them in two strides. “The devil! Are you hurt? Are you all right?” He slid his hands up her arms.
His reaction was genuine and once again, kind. Now that it was all over with and she was safely home, a bit of compassion from Taviston wasn’t such a bad thing. Victoria wished he would wrap his arms around her.
“Thank you for your concern. No one harmed me.”
He studied her face intently then nodded. “Thank God. Who? Where? When? Why?”
He dropped his hands from her arms and crossed back to the footboard, shrugging off his coat as he went.
Suppressing a sigh, Victoria instead took a deep breath. “I’ll start at the beginning.” Pacing in front of the fireplace, she recalled her morning. “I was waiting in my room when I saw the carriage pull up outside, just before nine. I went downstairs and Louisa told me the carriage awaited. A footman held the carriage door open and I got in without hesitation.” She hesitated in the present though, for Taviston now divested himself of his waistcoat as well.
He quirked his raven eyebrows at her and then ripped the cravat from his neck. “I need to know everything, Victoria.”
She worried her lower lip. If he undressed any further, she doubted she could finish the story. He relaxed against the bed once again, however, and she resumed pacing.
“The carriage instantly shot off and I realized almost immediately I wasn’t alone. There were two men, Spade and Frank. One held a knife and the other a pistol.” She paused and looked at him expectantly.
“Armed men. They told you their names.” His voice sounded odd, strangled almost.
“Yes. Trust me; there were many peculiar things about this kidnapping.”
“Such as?”
Victoria eyed an armchair placed close to the fire. “May I?”
She received an irritated look. “Of course. Sit; do as you wish in this room.”
So magnanimous, so decent. But why couldn’t he just offer her the security of his embrace? Or at least his touch?
She slid into the comfortable chair and tucked her feet beneath her. Glancing back at Taviston she saw a brief look of impatience cross his features. He must want to be done with this and get on with the wedding night.
“I would say that Frank and Spade were not accomplished kidnappers. They did not even appear to have a prior acquaintance. We traveled at breakneck speed and they had closed the window curtains, but I was able to sneak a look and saw we headed north out of London. Soon, it became apparent to me neither one of them knew what their plan was. Frank believed they were to take me to Wales. Spade insisted it was Scotland.”