“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—in toto, there was more to it, more depths, more aspects than even that powerful fact.
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.