A Gentleman's Honor (Bastion Club 2)
Glancing around, surveying the faces, he said, “So now you all know what the problem is, and that there’s a need to keep alert at all times.”
“Aye.” Maggs pushed away from the wall. He looked to the other servants, getting to their feet. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled, you can count on that.”
“Thank you.” With a nod, Tony dismissed them.
Alicia flashed them a grateful smile as they filed out of the room, then turned to her brothers. “Bed for you three, now. It’s been a very long evening, and you have lessons tomorrow.”
They looked at her, then, somewhat to her surprise, quickly rose. They came to hug her; she kissed their cheeks, then they hugged Adriana and, without any argument, headed for the door. Alicia turned. Maggs and Jenkins had dallied in the doorway; they took the boys under their wings and herded them upstairs.
She sat back on the chaise, hugely relieved, amazed, given the events of the evening, to feel so. Then Geoffrey was bowing before her. She gave him her hand, smiled in gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough for coming to stay with Adriana
and the boys.”
He looked faintly irritated; he frowned at her, reminding her of Tony. “Nonsense. Any gentleman would have done the same.” He glanced at Adriana, who’d risen, too.
She beamed at him. “But you did.” She squeezed his arm. “Come—I’ll see you out.”
With a tired but genuine smile for Alicia, Adriana led Geoffrey to the door; he closed it behind them.
Alicia turned to Tony. He’d been watching the door close; now he looked at her.
His gaze rested on her face for a long moment, then he said, “My apologies. I should have asked before I spoke—do you expect any trouble with your staff?”
She blinked. “You mean because of…” She let her words trail away, uncomfortable with their direction.
He refused to mince words. “Because despite the fact I avoided using the term, a threat clearly exists toward this household, and, consequently, there has to be a certain if unspecified danger. Household staff aren’t partial to getting caught in any cross fire.”
She smiled at the military allusion. “In this case, you needn’t worry. Cook, Fitchett, and Jenkins have been with us for longer than even I can remember—they won’t give notice. They’re part of the family.”
He looked at her—studied her—then inclined his head and rose.
Quickly, she rose, too. In the distance, she heard the front door shut; she paused, waiting, then the sound of Adriana’s light footsteps on the stairs came clearly to her ears.
And Tony’s. One glance at him—at the black eyes that were watching her—was enough to assure her of that. But he made no move, simply watched her.
There was a great deal she wanted, indeed felt compelled to say. Quite aside from her rescue, aside from his revelations, his taking the lead in dealing with the matter, here, within her household, had given her time to calm, to reassess and catch her mental breath. She felt infinitely more confident, more assured, than she had two hours earlier. Her latent panic had disappeared; she could face the immediate future sure in her ability to cope.
He didn’t move, just watched, waited.
She drew breath, lifted her chin, and closed the distance between them. She stopped directly before him—or would have, but he reached out and smoothly drew her on, into his arms. Her heart leapt; her senses stirred, came alive. His arms settled about her, a loose cradle; her hands coming to rest on his chest, she looked into his face.
A face that gave little away; she couldn’t guess what he was thinking.
“I wanted to thank you.” Without his intervention, she couldn’t imagine what might have happened, how matters might have developed.
He said nothing; instead, he slowly raised a brow. His black gaze touched hers, then swept down to her lips.
She knew exactly what he was thinking. She didn’t stop to consider, to assess the wisdom of her response. Drawing in a quick breath, she gripped his arms, stretched up against him, and touched her lips to his.
It was an invitation rather than a kiss; when he didn’t immediately respond, she eased back.
His arms tightened, locking her more definitely to him. Her lashes fluttered up; his dark gaze met hers for an instant, then he bent his head.
His lips touched her cheek, a light, insubstantial caress. He paused, then closed again; this time, his lips found the corner of hers, and slowly teased.
As he drew back, just an inch, she turned her head, fleetingly met his eyes. Then she raised one hand, laid her palm along his cheek, and guided his lips to hers.
He closed them over hers and took what she offered. Her mouth, herself. He drew her deeper into his arms, parted her lips, and sank deeper into the kiss. Into the explicit exchange she now knew well.