His black eyes held hers. After a moment, he murmured, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He held her gaze for an instant, then nodded. With a look and a quiet word, he gathered Adriana; not surprisingly, Geoffrey came, too. Sir Freddie bade them a suavely courteous good night, remaining to chat with Miss Pontefract and Sir Reginald Blaze. Leaving the group, they made their way through the still dense crowd to the foyer.
Tony sent a footman for their carriage. Richmond was a long way from Mayfair; in response to a pointed look from Adriana, Alicia invited Geoffrey to share their carriage. He accepted; minutes later, the carriage arrived, and they set off on the long rocking ride back to town. Once they were free of the gate and bowling along the main road, Geoffrey looked at Tony. “Have you learned anything yet?”
Tony felt Alicia’s glance, shook his head. “Nothing definite. Corroboration, yes, but nothing that defines the game A. C. was playing.”
“Was playing? You’re sure of that? That it’s all in the past?”
He wasn’t surprised to find Geoffrey interrogating him; if he’d been in his shoes, enamored of the lovely Adriana, he, too, would want to know. “That much seems certain. Indeed, that’s why Ruskin was no longer valuable—why he became an expendable liability.”
Geoffrey thought, then nodded.
Conversation lapsed, then Adriana asked Geoffrey something; he looked down at her, and replied. They continued talking, their voices low.
Tony wasn’t in the mood to chat; he was in truth tired—he’d traveled down to Rye and spent much of the day chasing men who rarely ventured forth in sunshine. Nevertheless, he’d found them, and learned all he’d needed to know.
He looked at Alicia; shifting his hand, he found hers and wrapped his fingers about it. She glanced at him; in the weak light he saw her smile gently, then she looked forward, leaned her head against his shoulder, her other hand finding and covering their clasped hands. He sensed she was as tired as he; he was tempted to put his arm around her and gather her against him, but in light of the pair on the opposite seat, refrained.
It took nearly an hour to reach Waverton Street.
Geoffrey jumped down; Tony followed. They handed their ladies down, then Geoffrey took his leave of Adriana and Alicia, and walked off.
Tony followed Alicia up the steps of the house, glancing as always to left and right. He’d caught a glimpse of his man on the corner, recalled the report that had been on his desk when he’d returned home that evening.
In the front hall, he waited with Alicia while Adriana went upstairs, and Maggs retreated to the nether regions; he was perfectly sure their charade wasn’t fooling Maggs, but he suspected it was important to Alicia, at least at that point, to preserve her facade as a virtuous widow.
Once Maggs’s footsteps had faded and Adriana had disappeared down the corridor to her room, he turned back to the front door and slid both bolts home. Alicia had picked up the candle from the hall table; on the lowest tread of the stair, she glanced back at him. He joined her; together they climbed the stairs to her room.
Her bedchamber was the largest, closest to the stairs. Adriana’s room lay along the corridor, two dressing rooms and a linen press separating the rooms. He had no idea whether Adriana knew he spent the nights in her elder sister’s bed; given the distance between their rooms, there was no reason she would have guessed.
The boys’ rooms were on the next floor, the servants’ rooms in the attics above. Following Alicia into her bedchamber and shutting the door, he reflected that thus far, her reputation remained safe.
If there was any reason to imagine it threatened, he would make his intentions public, but as things stood, with the ton believing her a widow and thus according her the associated license, there was no compelling urgency to declare his hand.
Indeed, he prayed the necessity wouldn’t arise, that once A. C. was unmasked and they were free of his threat, he would have time to woo her, to ask for her hand with all due ceremony. That was, to his mind, the least she deserved, regardless of their established intimacy.
He hadn’t intended that, but having once spent the night in her bed, the notion of not continuing to do so hadn’t even entered his head. The fact he’d simply assumed her agreement occurred to him. He glanced at her. She’d crossed the room to set the candlestick on the dressing table; seated on the stool, she was calmly letting down her long hair.
The simple, domestic sight never failed to soothe him—to soothe that part of him that was not, even at the best of times, all that civilized.
She had not at any time drawn back, either from him or from their relationship; her quiet, calm acceptance was both balm to his possessive soul and a wordless reassurance that they understood each other perfectly.
Indeed, words had never featured much between them. Aside from all else, he’d always believed actions spoke louder.
Sitting on the bed, he removed his shoes, then shrugged out of his coat. He stripped off his waistcoat, untied his cravat, all the while watching her brush the long, mahogany tresses that spilled down her back, a silken river reaching nearly to her waist.
When she laid down the brush and stood, he crossed to her. Bending his head, murmuring an endearment, he set his fingers to her laces, and his lips to the sensitive spot where her white shoulder and throat met. When her gown was loose, he forced himself to move away, allowing her to remove the gown, shake it out, and hang it up.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he inwardly frowned, returning to a thought that frequently nagged; it would be nice to give her more servants, a maid at least to take care of her clothes and see to her jewels…frowning, he pulled his shirt from his waistband. As far as he’d seen, she didn’t have any jewelry.
“Oh.” At her armoire, she turned, through the shadows looked at him. “I meant to tell you—something rather strange happened today.”
Clad in her chemise, she headed for the bed. He started unbuttoning his cuffs. “What?”
Picking up a silk robe, she slipped it over her shoulders. “A solicitor’s clerk called this morning.” Sinking onto the bed, she met