Whirlwind Affair

Chapter 16

Late in the morning following her night with Robert, Allie stood in front of the cheval glass and examined her reflection. Even with the meager light due to the gray, drizzling skies, even garbed in her usual black, she could discern the unmistakable glow. It sparkled in her eyes, glimmered on her flushed cheeks, announced itself in the small, secret smile she could not erase from her lips.

She had not felt so wonderfully alive, so vibrant and exhilarated, in three years. Her body hummed with pleasure, her pulse jumped every time she thought of the previous night… which was constantly. Turning, she looked toward the bed, now neatly made. But she instantly visualized herself and Robert among tangled sheets, their limbs entwined, touching, tasting, exploring. And God help her, she could not wait to do it again.

Surely everyone would guess. How could anyone look at her and not know? The look of a well-pleasured woman rested upon her like a cashmere shawl, and nothing-not the long bath she'd indulged in, or the gray weather, or her somber attire diminished it. She did not regret her actions, yet she needed to employ caution. Discretion. It was one thing to take a lover… it was quite another to have his entire family know about their liaison.

But how could she hope to be in the same room with him and act normally? Now that she knew how firm and smooth his skin felt beneath her fingers? Now that she'd seen his eyes darken with passion and need as he buried himself in her body? Knew the sound of his voice as he groaned her name in release?

You won't be able to, you fool. You never should have-

Squeezing her eyes shut, she bludgeoned back her inner voice, as she already had more times than she cared to count since she'd awakened. Robert was her lover. Nothing more. They would enjoy the pleasure they brought each other until it was time for her to leave England. And then it would be over.

Once again her inner voice tried to interject, but she forcibly closed her heart and mind to its unwanted warnings. It was time to venture downstairs… to visit with Elizabeth's family. And face her lover.

With butterflies of anticipation fluttering in her stomach, she turned toward the door. Before she took one step, however, someone knocked.

Good Lord, could it be him? "Come in," she called, pressing her hands to her midsection to calm her jitters.

Caroline entered, her face wreathed in smiles, her arms wrapped around a large rectangular box. "Good morning, Allie… or rather afternoon." She walked to the bed, where she deposited the box. "Did you sleep well?"

Heat rose in Allie's cheeks. "Very well. Just later than I expected."

Caroline waved a negligent hand. "Lounging about in bed until early afternoon is what rusticating in the country is for. I ventured downstairs myself only a few minutes ago, where I discovered this"-she pointed to the box-"waiting for you. According to Fenton, it had just arrived from London. Since I could not wait to see what you'd purchased from Madame Renee, I brought it up to you. Her creations are simply divine."

Allie frowned in confusion. "Madame Renee? There must be some mistake. I did purchase two gowns from her shop, but they were both delivered to me before I departed London."

Caroline's eyes goggled. "Heavens, with you being in town only a few days, you must have paid her a fortune to receive your garments so quickly. It normally takes at least three months. She is, after all, the most exclusive modiste in London." She laughed. "Miles cringes in fear for the family fortune every time I so much as mention the woman's name."

"We must be speaking of two different Madame Renees," Allie said. "The gowns I bought were extremely reasonable."

"There is only one Madame Renee," Caroline said positively. "Her shop is located on Bond Street." Her gaze ran over Allie's black gown. "What you're wearing-it is from her shop. As was the gown you wore yesterday. Her flawless workmanship and style are easily recognizable. I'd meant to ask you yesterday how you managed to have her fit you so quickly. You must let me in on your secret."

"But I have no secret. Your brother brought me to her shop and…" Her voice trailed off as suspicion filled her. Surely Robert had not… no, he could not have.

Caroline's eyes lit up with unmistakable interest. "Robert brought you? To Madame Renee’s? Voluntarily?"

Caroline's incredulous tone left little doubt that such an excursion was extraordinary behavior on her brother's part.

"I'd asked him where I might purchase some new attire," Allie said hastily, squashing her indignant conscience into submission.

"I see," Caroline murmured, but a wealth of curious speculation lurked behind the two innocent words. "Well, let's see what Madame sent you," she urged. "Perhaps it is a shawl or some other accessory for one of the gowns you bought."

"Perhaps," Allie conceded doubtfully. "But I fear there has been a mistake."

Yet the instant she parted the pink-and-white striped tissue paper and caught sight of the shimmering copper-hued material beneath, her breath stalled, and she knew there was no mistake… at least not the sort she'd initially suspected.

"How beautiful," Caroline enthused. "What an extraordinary color. It is perfect for you."

As if in a daze, Allie carefully lifted the gown from its bed of tissue. It was the most exquisite garment she'd ever seen, a fluid fall of golden topaz, elegant and understated in its simplicity. She recognized the material as that which she had admired in Madame Renee's shop. And there was only one way a gown such as this could have been commissioned.

Robert.

A myriad of emotions buzzed around her like a swarm of bees, confusing her with their contrariness. Clearly he'd lied to her about Madame Renee and the prices she charged. It was equally clear he'd subsidized her purchases, and based on Caroline's words, it had cost him dearly. And this creation must have set him back a fortune.

A part of her heart melted at his thoughtful, gallant consideration in attempting to provide her with the means to purchase new gowns in a way that would leave her pride intact. But then, the very nature of his gesture trod irrevocably upon her hard-earned independence. She did not need him, or anyone, to purchase her clothing. She refused to be in another man's debt ever again.

But what struck the most painful blow, leaving her simultaneously hurt and angry, disappointed and disgusted, was the fact that he'd lied to her. Perhaps his intentions had been good, but damnation, she could not abide being lied to. For any reason. And while she was undeniably angry with him, she was doubly so at herself. For letting down her guard. For allowing herself to believe, to foolishly hope for even one minute, that he would not lie to her as David so often had.

Even though her every feminine instinct longed to don the gorgeous gown, her pride and the keen sense of betrayal knotting her insides forced her to lay the garment gently back in the box.

Offering Caroline a smile she prayed did not appear as tight and forced as it felt, she asked, "Would you know where your brother is, Caroline?"

"I believe he is in the nursery with the children."

"Would you take me there, please? There is something I need to discuss with him."

Allie stood in the doorway of the nursery, riveted by the sight of Robert sitting on the edge of an overstuffed, chintz-covered settee. His long legs, clad in buff-colored breeches, were spread wide. Emily straddled his one knee, while James straddled the other.

"Are you ready for the start of the next gallop around the forest?" he asked the children.

"Ready!" they answered in unison.

"Hold on," he commanded, then proceeded to make loud horselike noises, bouncing his legs to the children's delight. "Here comes the fence," he said. "Jump!" He lifted his legs higher, and they clung to his knees, breathless with laughter. "We're almost at the end. Hold on!"

Seconds later his jouncing halted, and Emily instantly demanded, "Again!"

He laughed and lifted her off his knee to hug her. "Horsey needs to rest first." He kissed her cherubic cheek, then set her on her feet. Turning his head, he caught sight of Allie and Caroline standing in the doorway.

His gaze locked with Allie's, and there was no missing the naked heat that blazed in his eyes. In spite of her anger, warmth raced into her cheeks at that blatantly intimate look. Good Lord, Caroline was standing right beside her. She would certainly see and wonder-

"Mama!" Emily ran toward Caroline on chubby, sturdy little legs. James slid off Robert's knee and galloped toward his aunt as well. Crouching down, Caroline hugged them both.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite racers," Caroline said with a smile. "Who won?"

"I did!" Emily and James said simultaneously.

"It was a tie," Robert said with a laugh. He rose to stand in front of the settee, his gaze never leaving Allie's. And although half the length of the room separated them, Allie felt as if he'd caressed her.

Caroline straightened, and Allie forced herself to look away from Robert's compelling eyes. Taking each child by a hand, Caroline alternated a bright, innocent-looking smile between her brother and Allie that in no way disguised her open speculation.

"If you two will excuse us," Caroline said, "I will take these expert riders off to help me cajole Cook out of some biscuits as a reward for their endeavors." She glanced toward the window, where rain continued to fall. "Then I propose we visit the conservatory to pick some flowers to bring Lily and her mama."

"Flowers for Mama," James agreed, tugging on her hand.

Allie nodded her thanks, and Caroline herded her excited charges from the room. Their voices grew fainter until silence reigned.

Robert simply stood, studying her for several seconds, his heart quickening from the mere fact that they stood in the same room. He wanted nothing more than to stride across the carpet and drag her into his arms, but there was something in her eyes, in her utterly still and stiff posture, that edged unease down his spine, rendering him reluctant to make any quick moves. As if facing a rabbit about to bolt, he walked slowly toward her. She stood her ground, watching him approach. He halted directly in front of her, then, reaching behind her, closed the door, locking it with a gentle click that seemed to reverberate through the quiet room.

This serious woman was not the same wanton, laughing creature he'd held in his arms last night. And damn it, he wanted that woman back.

Was she experiencing regrets? He hoped not, because he certainly was not. Last night had been… perfect. The first of many such perfect nights to follow. Yet by her expression, it seemed clear he would need to convince her of that.

He reached out to touch her, but she instantly moved away, out of his reach. "I need to speak with you," she said, in a flat voice that doubled his unease.

She stood with her back only a foot from the wall, and he debated moving closer, bracketing her in, but decided to give her the room she obviously wanted. But there was no denying the hurt that pricked him at her frigid composure.

"I'm listening," he said, bracing himself to hear a barrage of morning-after recriminations and regrets.

"You lied to me."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You lied to me about Madame Renee. I've just learned that her shop is the most exclusive in London, and that she charges exorbitant prices. That clients must wait months before receiving their garments."

Bloody hell. He clearly had his sister to thank for this. Still, some of the tension left his shoulders that this wasn't about last night. "Allie, I merely-"

"Lied." Twin flags of color rose on her cheeks and her voice vibrated with anger. "And I shall thank you not to continue to do so by denying it." She squared her shoulders. "You will prepare a full accounting of all the funds you spent subsidizing my purchases so I can repay you."

Irritation tickled at him. "I will do nothing of the sort."

"Then I shall be forced to ask Madame Renee herself."

"She will not tell you."

"Then I will ask Caroline to estimate the amount I owe you."

Confusion replaced his irritation. "You do not owe me anything. Your gowns were destroyed by the thief. I simply provided you with a means to replace them in an expedient manner."

"By lying to me." Sparks all but sizzled from her. "Do you know what it feels like to be lied to, Robert?" Before he could answer, she continued, "I know what it feels like. It's horrible. And I refuse to be taken advantage of in that way ever again."

"Allie…" He reached out toward her, but she backed away again, leaving him to rake his hand through his hair in rapidly mounting frustration. Damn it, he'd clearly stepped into it this time. "I was merely trying to help you. Obviously I went about it in a poor way, in a way that has upset you, and for that I apologize. But I think you are making too much out of a few simple gowns."

Her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. "There is nothing simple about it. I did not ask for your help. I neither want nor need your help. I've survived quite well on my own for the past three years, and I shall continue to do so without being in anyone's debt."

Her words stung like a slap. "You are not in my debt. I would have done the same for anyone I care about, without expecting anything in return. I did not want you to know about it only because I sensed your pride would not allow you to accept anything from me-or anyone else, for that matter. And while I can understand, and even admire, such a sentiment, in this instance I wholly disagree with it."

"You made a choice for me, a choice I would not have made for myself had I been in full possession of the facts, which I was not because you lied to me. And what of the other gown? The one that just arrived from Madame Renee. How did you arrange that?"

"I wrote to her after our visit to her shop."

"I see. So obviously that gown is something you decided I needed as well."

He studied her angry face for several seconds before replying. "I think it's time you ceased to wear mourning clothing, yes."

"That is not your decision to make."

No. But damn it, he wanted it to be. The hell with not touching her. Reaching out, he caught her firmly by her shoulders. She stiffened, but did not struggle. "Allie. I just wanted you to have something beautiful to wear. I wanted to see you in something other than black."

"I cannot afford such a gown."

A frown pulled at his brows. "It is a gift."

"I do not want it. I can not, and will not, accept a gift from another man who lies to me."

Something inside him snapped and he abruptly released her, stepping back several paces. "Damn it, I am not him. I am not David."

"Aren't you?"

He erased the space between them with one quick stride. She retreated, flattening her back against the wall, and he slapped a palm against the wood paneling on either side of her shoulders, caging her in.

"Do you have any idea how such a comparison makes me feel?" When she simply stared up at him with wide eyes, he leaned closer to her, not even attempting to hide the anger and hurt he knew showed in his eyes. "Allow me to enlighten you. It is more than insulting. It is extremely hurtful. While I will readily admit that I have faults, cheating, stealing, and blackmailing are not among them. You say you refuse to be lied to? Very well. That is quite understandable. But you need to understand that I refuse to be further compared to your late husband. I am not normally in the habit of telling less than the truth, but with regard to Madame Renee, yes, I lied to you. I can only say that my intentions were good, and offer you my apology and my promise not to be untruthful with you again."

Allie stared up at him and swallowed hard. He was angry. And hurt. The sentiments all but radiated from his eyes and his body, both of which were too close. Both of which held her captive. She tried to hold on to her own anger, but it began seeping away, like sand sifting through an hourglass, to be replaced by twinges of guilt for hurting him. She fisted her hands. She did not want to feel this way… this softening of her indignation. He'd lied to her. She was right; he was wrong.

Yet she was struck by the irony that, while she had indeed compared him to David, he was now behaving in a way David never would have. She could not recall David ever admitting he possessed faults. Or apologizing. And she certainly could not imagine him ever openly admitting he'd lied.

A fissure of shame wound through her. She did not like what he'd done, but his well-intentioned sin could in no way compare to David's transgressions. And while she could not disregard those shadows that lurked in Robert's eyes, could not overlook the fact that he hid secrets, it was increasingly difficult to credit that those secrets involved anything sinister or illegal or bad-not from a man who had the integrity and honor to look her in the eye and admit his mistakes, then apologize for them.

But these realizations… that he was a good, decent man, and one who clearly cared for her, filled her with a knee-weakening fear. For if he was all those wonderful things she was beginning to suspect he was, how could she hope to guard her heart against him? Even now her body was betraying her, overwhelmed with the desire to lean into the heat emanating from him, to bury her face against his broad chest and breathe in his clean, masculine scent that teased her senses. He is your lover. Nothing more. Will never be anything more.

But if nothing else, she at least owed him the same courtesy he'd afforded her. Lifting her chin, she said, "I appreciate your apology, and hope you will accept my own. I did not mean to insult or hurt you. It was not my intention to insinuate you are a cheater, thief, or blackmailer."

His expression remained fierce for several seconds, then softened a bit. "Thank you."

"Now, about the gowns-"

He cut off her words by laying his fingers over her lips. "Accept them, Allie. Please. In the spirit in which they were intended. The black gowns as a gift from a friend who cares about you." He leaned forward and whispered against her ear. "And the gold gown as a token of the deepest regard from your lover."

Heat whooshed through her as if he'd set her clothing on fire. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her sensitive earlobe, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pleasure.

"Are you normally so generous with your lovers?" The instant the question passed her lips, she wished she could recall it. His behavior with other lovers did not matter. Yet her inner voice taunted, It should not matter, but it does. God help her, she did not want to think of him with other lovers, past or future. Did not want to feel this irrational jealousy pumping through her.

He leaned back and gave her a long, searching look, his eyes serious and intent and questioning. Clearly he wondered why she would ask him. Finally he said, "I'm not certain I understand what you mean by 'generous.' I cannot deny I have given lovers gifts, but they've always been impersonal. Flowers, or the occasional bracelet. Never something as personal as clothing. And never something that I wanted a lover to have more."

She tried to ignore the way her heart jumped at his words, but it was impossible. Even more so when he slid his hands down her arms and entwined their fingers. The warmth of his palms pressing against hers sent rivulets of heat through her veins. He stepped closer. Less than a foot separated them, and his body seemed to surround her like a velvet cloak.

"You say you don't want to insult or hurt me," he said in a husky voice, his gaze steady on hers, "but refusing my gifts will do both. If you do not wish to accept them for yourself, do it for me. Because knowing you don't have to worry about replacing your garments destroyed in the theft makes me happy. Because I want so very much to see you wear that golden gown." He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against her fingers. "And because I greatly anticipate slipping that shimmery material from your body and making love to you."

Her limbs turned to liquid, and she stiffened her knees to keep from sliding to the floor. "I… I don't know what to say." Good lord, it amazed her she was able to even form a coherent word.

"Ah. I am more than happy to help." A flicker of mischief gleamed in his eyes. "Say 'Thank you, Robert.' "

A tiny answering smile jerked at her lips. She should say no. But she simply could not. "Thank you, Robert."

"Say ‘I’ll wear the golden gown tonight.' "

"I'll wear the golden gown tonight," she whispered.

"Say 'and all evening long I'll think about how you are going to take it off me, then make love to me.' "

God help her, how could she refuse to say something that was so completely, undeniably true? Yet how could she verbalize such a confession… words such as she'd never uttered before? Still, almost of their own volition, her lips moved. "And all evening long I'll think about how you are going to take it off me, then make love to me."

His eyes darkened with a naked heat so raw she felt engulfed in flames. Releasing her hands, he slipped his arms around her, pulling her closer, until his hard body touched her from chest to knee.

As he lowered his mouth toward hers, she planted her hands against his chest to halt his progress. "Robert, I feel compelled to point out that this is probably not a good idea."

"On the contrary. I think it is an excellent idea." A mixture of heat and mischief sparkled in his eyes. "And really, quite unstoppable. I simply must kiss you."

"But what if Caroline returns with the children?"

"She won't. They're having biscuits, then picking flowers. Believe me, once Emily and James are in the conservatory, they'll run about the rows of plants for hours playing hide-and-seek. Lily has her own private nursery, near Elizabeth's bedchamber. And the door here is locked. We are very much alone."

"I see. Well, in that case…" She rose up on her toes and their lips met in a lush, openmouthed kiss. He tasted of coffee and heat, of man, and his own unique flavor that stirred her senses, bringing a purr of pleasure to her throat.

Everything faded away but him and the delight she felt under the onslaught of his sensual kiss… A kiss that quickly burned into so much more. His hands caressed down her back, then forward to cup her breasts. Her nipples beaded into aching points of need, and she pressed herself closer to him, seeking more of his touch.

Her fingers became restless, frantic things, fluttering butterflies seeking a place to land in a windstorm. His erection pressed against her belly, coiling need straight to her core. She slipped her hand between them and stroked her open palm down the front of his breeches, over his hard ridge of flesh.

He broke off their kiss and sucked in a sharp breath. "Allie…" He rested his forehead against hers, his ragged breath beating warm against her face. Feeling wicked and bold and empowered by his response, she ran her hand over him again, slowly. A long, low moan rumbled in his throat.

"I feel it only fair to warn you," he said in a voice rough with arousal, "that if you continue to touch me like that, you will not get out of this room… unscathed."

"Oh, my," she breathed, deliberately tickling her fingertips over the head of his erection. "What exactly do you mean by… unscathed?"

"God help you, you're about to find out." And with those few words, he simply took her over. His mouth came down on hers with devouring intensity. His tongue slid past her lips, stroking her mouth deeply, slowly, with a devastating rhythm that perfectly mimicked how her body ached to join with his.

Breaking their kiss, he pressed a trail of kisses down her neck, while his hands made quick work of removing her fichu. His lips wandered lower, over the tops of her breasts, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out in frustration at the barrier of clothing between them. Her hands wreaked havoc with his hair, pressing him closer, while she drowned in sensation.

With a low groan, he lifted her against him, then strode quickly to the sofa where he lowered her to the cushion, following her down. His impatient hands tugged at her bodice, freeing her breasts, and she gasped when he immediately drew one of her aching nipples into his heated mouth, his tongue swirling over her sensitive flesh.

She tried to catch her breath, but it was impossible with his mouth and tongue teasing her breasts while his hand worked its way under her gown and slid up her leg. She squirmed beneath him, spreading her thighs, lifting her hips to give him easier access, while her hands clutched at his shoulders. Her feminine flesh felt hot and heavy and wet, and if he didn't touch her soon-

Robert's fingers skimmed over her swollen folds, and the last remaining ounce of control he'd managed to cling to, vanished. She arched against his hand, a long moan of satisfaction rumbling in her throat. Rising to kneel between her splayed thighs, he pushed her gown to her waist, reveling in the erotic sight of his fingers playing with her glistening flesh, of her hips undulating as passion consumed her, her nipples still wet and erect from his mouth. He eased first one, then two fingers inside her, clenching his teeth when her silky heat surrounded him. The scent of her arousal, mixed with the delicate fragrance of honeysuckle, inundated his senses, and his erection jerked inside his confining breeches. With his other hand, he quickly freed himself.

He wanted to wait, wanted to prolong their pleasure, touch her, taste her, but as it had last night, his mastery over his own body deserted him. He needed to be inside her. Now.

He slipped his fingers from her, and would have smiled at her cry of protest if he'd been able. Surging over her, he slid into her tight, wet heat in a single stroke. Any thoughts he might have entertained of going slowly evaporated when she raced her hands down his back to his buttocks, urging him deeper into her body. Bracing his weight on his forearms, he thrust into her with hard, fast strokes. Sweat broke out along his brow, and he looked down at her. Her head was thrown back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. Her eyes were shut, her lips parted, her breath a series of ragged pants that matched his own.

"Ohhhh," she breathed, and he watched her orgasm claim her, felt her body tense, her inner walls clutching him, pushing him over the edge with her. With an animal-like growl, he threw his head back and thrust into her, spilling his seed deep in her body. He pulsed inside her for an endless, mindless moment, then collapsed, burying his face in the fragrant curve of her neck, pressing his lips against her jumping pulse.

It took several moments for sanity to return, for him to garner enough strength to raise his head. Their gazes met and his heart performed a slow roll at the warm, satisfied glow in her eyes.

There were a dozen things he wanted to say to her, tell her, but he hesitated, partly because he was not sure she was ready to hear them, and also because he wasn't yet capable of speech. So he said the one word he could manage to push past his lips.

"Allie."

She blinked twice, then a slow smile eased across her face, reminding him of the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Here was his girl from the sketch. She whispered one word in reply.

"Robert."

He felt himself grinning in return, unable to hide his happiness. She was his. And nothing, no one, would keep them apart.

In her bedchamber, Allie had just finished repairing herself after her sensual interlude with Robert, when a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in."

A middle-aged maid bearing a bright smile and a ceramic pitcher entered.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Mrs. Brown. My name's Mary. I were just wantin' to bring some fresh water and see to tidyin' up. I can come back later."

"Hello, Mary. Please come in." She was about to add that she herself was about to leave the bedchamber, when something stopped her. With her bright cheeks and wide grin, Mary struck her as a friendly sort. Perhaps the friendly sort of woman who might be led to answer some questions…

Her conscience tapped her firmly on the shoulder. Not even an hour ago you were furious with Robert for being dishonest. Trying to glean information from this woman is hardly honest.

She slapped back her inner voice, rationalizing that there was a distinct difference between dishonesty and curiosity about the man she'd taken as her lover. And she was merely…curious. Besides, the maid might not know anything.

She engaged Mary in small talk regarding the rainy weather and the new baby, as the woman bustled around the room wielding her feather duster with energetic efficiency. Then Allie led the conversation around to Elizabeth and the duke.

"Fine people. Not hoity-toity as the Quality often can be," Mary said, her mobcap swaying as she fluffed the bed pillows. " 'Course, the whole family is the first water. I've been here at Bradford Hall for twenty years, you know."

"So you've known the duke and his siblings since they were children."

"Indeed. Smart as whips, every one of them." A chuckle passed her lips. "But the youngest, Lord Robert, now he were a caution, that one. Always gettin' into some sort of mischief. But a more lovable boy ye'd be hard-pressed to find."

Allie's heart pounded at the conversational opening Mary had unwittingly handed her. Forcing aside the guilt once again nudging her, she said, "Yes, he's very charming." She lowered her voice and added in a halting voice, "Of course, it's too bad… about what happened…"

Molly looked confused for several seconds, then her eyes widened. "So ye know about the fire?" She made a tsking sound and frowned. "Can't believe folks still talk about it, it happened so long ago."

Fire? "A terrible tragedy," Allie murmured.

A disgruntled harrumph sounded from Mary. "Don't care what anyone else says, 'twas a youthful indiscretion gone bad, if you ask me. That boy wouldn't hurt no one on purpose, not ever. And he made all the reparations, just like he promised. 'Course, no one hardly mentions it anymore as it's been four years. And the family don't discuss it at all."

"Perfectly understandable," Allie managed to say, her head spinning with Mary's unwitting revelations. Was Robert guilty of some sort of criminal act?

"All's tidy here, Mrs. Brown. I'll leave you now."

"Thank you, Mary."

The maid quit the room and Allie pressed her fingers to her temples, where a headache was rapidly forming. Thankfully she was standing close to the wing chair near the fireplace and required only a few jerky steps to sink onto the cushion. Surely she should not feel as if someone had cut her legs off at the knees. Yet she did.

Mary had mentioned a fire. And reparations. What were the details surrounding this incident? And how was Robert involved-for clearly he had been in some way. Something tickled her memory, and she suddenly recalled Robert's odd reaction when Lady Gaddlestone had mentioned a fire during their tea at The Blue Iris. What had he done? A shiver of dread gripped her, and she wrapped her arms around her middle to ward off the sudden chill. Clearly there was more to the man she'd asked to be her lover than she had anticipated. Should she follow Elizabeth's advice and ask him? Did she really want to know the answers? And if she did ask him, would he tell her the truth? Or, like David, would he lie, or evade her questions?

Get a hold on yourself, Allie. It's not as if you're going to marry him. Did his past really matter? The man was her lover. Nothing more. It was not necessary to know every facet of his life.

She drew a deep, calming breath. As long as she kept her heart uninvolved, his past and secrets did not matter. She would allow him to engage her body and nothing else.

Geoffrey Hadmore sat in his usual leather chair in White's. He'd just lifted his brandy snifter to his lips when a commotion near the betting book captured his attention.

"The official announcement arrived from Bradford just this morning," proclaimed Lord Astley. "The duchess was delivered of a girl yesterday." A smug smile curved over Astley's face. "Lots of money going to be changing hands on that one."

Geoffrey sipped his brandy and turned a deaf ear to the crowd gathering around the betting book. So the duchess had her baby. Excellent. Everyone's attention at Bradford Hall would be focused on the newest edition, allowing Redfern more freedom to accomplish his task. And allowing Geoffrey himself more freedom to accomplish his.

A slow smile pulled at his lips. Bringing the newest member of the Bradford household a gift was an excellent excuse to visit the estate.