“He came to see me. Accused me of all sorts of foul things. Tried to blackmail me into paying him when he realized what I’d done. I refused. He threatened to harm my wife if I didn’t pay him. I never expected him to follow through.”
“Where is he now?”
Ashley finally looked up from his glass. “In Parliament. He serves his duties as though he’s not penniless and homicidal.” He shrugged. “I never could prove he did it. But I’m certain of it. I would bet my fortune and my family on it.”
“You didn’t kill her.”
***
Ashley looked wounded at her question. He chuckled, a sound without any mirth at all as he drained the last swallow of his drink. “Oh, I wanted to kill her. On more than one occasion. When I found out she’d been sharing a bed with this gentleman throughout most of our marriage. When I learned that she’d shared my business secrets with him. When I found out her illness was all a ruse to keep me from her bed. When he tried to blackmail me. I wanted to kill her. And I may as well have.”
“That’s why you never disavowed it.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips. “Because you felt guilty.”
“If I’d done as he asked, he wouldn’t have carried through with his threat. I thought he loved her a little.” He made that chuckling sound again. “I was quite wrong.
“The dangerous Duke of Robinsworth did
cause his wife’s death,” he said with a grimace. “But not in a way anyone would have ever expected.”
“You are not to blame for her folly.”
“I may as well have tossed her from the tower myself.”
“That’s not true,” she started. But he just shook his head.
“Enough with my secret. I’ll have another of yours now.”
She tapped her chin for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him next. She may as well show him. She turned her back to him and pulled her hair over her shoulder. “Would you unfasten my gown for me, please?”
He gulped and stared at her for a moment. But not for long. He rose and began to work the fastenings on the back of her gown. When her gown was loose, he stepped back and away from her, and ran a hand quickly through his hair. “Don’t worry,” she teased. “I simply want to show you something.”
“Show me everything,” he groaned as a grin stole across his face.
She pointed to a nearby chair. “Sit,” she commanded.
He did so with no hesitation, aside from sweeping a hand down over his mouth, as though he wanted to wipe the silly grin from his face. It didn’t work. He regarded her closely, leaning forward with his elbows upon his knees.
“Would you close your eyes for a moment?” she asked.
He groaned, his grin growing even wider. “Must I?”
She couldn’t keep from laughing at his stricken look. “You must.”
“All right,” he acquiesced and he squeezed his eyes tightly together.
Sophia shoved her gown from her shoulders and untied her chemise at the neck, letting it fall to the floor. She wore nothing else, aside from stockings and garters. She turned her back to him and called forth her magic, letting her wings appear. It wasn’t often she summoned her wings when she was of average size. She fluttered them lightly, satisfied when she stirred the air just a little bit around her. She peered over her shoulder and saw that she made the lock of hair on his forehead lift.
“What was that?” he asked.
“You may open your eyes and see,” she said.
“Bloody hell,” he gasped.
Twenty-Five
Ashley had to remind himself to breathe. It was as though she’d stolen all the air from the room when she removed her clothes. There she stood, naked in front of him. But from her back arched pretty wings that matched the flushed color of her skin. They stood up taller than her shoulders. And dropped down low enough to cover her bottom. All he could see were her wings, the back of her head, and her pink garters and white stockings. Dear God, she was beautiful.
He forced himself to exhale and took a step toward her. “By the saints, you’re a faerie,” he breathed. Her hands were in front of her, one cupping each of her breasts, shielding them from his gaze. “Don’t come any closer,” she said, when he moved to walk around her. Her wing bent, wrapping around her enough to block his view. He stopped. “I’m not decent,” she went on.