Quicksilver

Chapter 31

Owen felt Virginia stir in his arms. She gently pried herself free from his grasp. He let her go. The room immediately grew colder. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"It's getting late," she whispered.

"I know."

He levered himself up on one elbow and watched her get to her feet. Her hair was wildly tousled. Her stockings had come free of the garters and were draped around her ankles. The top of the chemise was crumpled at her waist. Her face and breasts were still flushed. He felt his senses stir.

"You look delicious," he said. "Good enough to eat. I believe I'm working up an appetite."

"There will probably be some muffins left in the kitchen," she said very seriously. She pulled the chemise up over her breasts. "Unless your nephews ate all of them."

He smiled and got to his feet. "I had another dish in mind. But it's getting late. You need your sleep."

She glanced at the tall clock in the corner. "Good heavens, it's nearly two o'clock in the morning. Your nephews will be wondering what is going on."

He fastened the front of his shirt, taking his time. "If either of them asks any questions, which I very much doubt, I will tell them that we were discussing the case."

"I dread facing Mrs. Crofton in the morning." Virginia leaned down to strip off her stockings. "I shall be lucky to get breakfast before she gives notice. She has been remarkably tolerant of the eccentricities of this household, but the business of bodyguards watching the house will be too much for her."

He reached for his trousers. "You know, Virginia, it is probably not a sound idea to go about in fear of your housekeeper."

"I'm not afraid of her." Virginia straightened and stepped into the center of the pool of fabric formed by her discarded gown. "Well, perhaps I am, in a manner of speaking."

"Why?"

"Don't you understand? No, you probably don't." Virginia inserted her arms into the sleeves of the dress and concentrated intently on doing up the hooks of the bodice. "If Mrs. Crofton goes back to the Billings Agency to seek another position, she will naturally inform Mrs. Billings of the rather odd goings-on around here. Mrs. Billings takes great pride in making certain her people are sent only torespectable employers. I suspect that after all that has happened here lately I will no longer qualify."

He thought about that while he secured the knife sheath to his ankle and got his trousers closed. He fastened his waistcoat with quick, practiced motions and pulled on his low boots. When he was dressed he crossed the room to stand in front of her.

"Is respectability that important to you?" he asked.

She raised her chin. "My father was a gentleman who kept his glass-reader mistress in the shadows. I have lived my entire life with the stain of illegitimacy. I am burdened with a talent for perceiving the most unwholesome afterimages in mirrors. That is not exactly a fashionable or ladylike skill. I make my living in a way that Arcane, the one organization that should accept and understand my psychical nature, finds disreputable." She fastened the last hook of her gown and dropped her hands. "Yes, Owen, respectability is important to me."

He caught her chin on the edge of his hand. "I grew up in a family that does not concern itself overmuch with the outward appearance of respectability. But the Sweetwaters do care a great deal about honor and courage and strength of will. It is how we have survived. Those qualities are what bind us together as a family."

She smiled. "I do not doubt that."

"You are endowed with all of those attributes that Sweetwaters hold dear. I would trust you with my life and my secrets."

She went still. "Truly?"

"Truly." He brushed his mouth across her parted lips and straightened. "Speaking of family secrets, I have revealed a number of them to you. Which leaves me with only one safe alternative."

"What is that?"

"You must marry me, of course."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

"Otherwise I shall have to spend the rest of my life worrying that you will reveal all of the dark Sweetwater secrets to some other man."

"What?"

"I'm teasing you, of course. This is not the time to discuss our marriage plans. It is late, and you must go to bed."

He released her, picked up his black evening coat and headed for the door.

"Owen, wait."

"We will finish this conversation some other time," he promised. He unlocked the door and moved out into the shadowed hall, smiling a little when he heard the quick patter of her bare feet behind him.

"You cannot just run off like this," she hissed urgently. "Explain yourself, sir."

He opened the front door and paused long enough to steal one last kiss.

"There is nothing more to explain, when you get right down to it," he said. "I am asking you to marry me. I can only hope that you will say yes."

"Damn it, Owen-"

He went out into the night. She started to pursue him and then evidently thought better of it when her bare feet touched the cold stone of the step. She moved back into the hall.

The shadows shifted down in the front area.

"I'm leaving now, Matt," Owen said. "I expect you and Tony to take excellent care of Miss Dean."

"Yes, sir," Matt said cheerfully.

"Mr. Sweetwater," Virginia snapped, her tone excruciatingly formal. "You can't just leave like this. I have questions for you."

"Another time, Miss Dean," he said. "Don't forget to lock the door."

Virginia said something indistinct in a very low voice and closed the door with considerably more force than was necessary.

He listened for the rasp of iron on iron that told him Virginia had turned the key in the lock. When he heard it he went down the steps to the pavement.

"Uncle Owen?" Matt called softly.

He stopped. "Yes?"

"She's the one, isn't she? The woman everyone in the family says you've been waiting for."

"Yes," Owen said. "But I would take it as a favor if you don't mention that to Miss Dean."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't understand that, not entirely. Not yet. I'm trying to break it to her gently. She needs time to become accustomed to the notion of marriage to me."

"No offense, sir, but judging by the tone of her voice just now, I don't think you're doing a very good job of explaining the situation."

"What do you expect? It's the first time I've tried to do so."

"You mustn't hit her over the head with it. Women like to be romanced like the heroines in the sensation novels."

"What the devil do you know about sensation novels?"

"A man can learn a great deal about women from novels," Matt said. "You should try it sometime."