With a recommendation that they all get some sleep, saying she would speak with them all in the morning, the viscountess graciously retired.
Tony asked Mrs. Larkins, the housekeeper, to show Adriana and Geoffrey their rooms. Taking Alicia’s hand, he led her up the stairs in their wake, but then turned down another corridor off the main gallery.
He opened a door at the end of the wing and drew her into a large room. It was a private sitting room overlooking the gardens; she got barely a glimpse as he led her through a doorway into a large bedchamber.
She glanced around, taking in the heavy dark blue hangings, the richly carved mahogany furniture, none of it delicate. Her gaze stopped on the huge four-poster bed.
Tony drew her into his arms; she met his gaze. “This is your room.”
His eyes held hers for an instant, then he murmured, “I know.” He bent his head. “Tonight, very definitely, this is where you belong.”
The first brush of his lips, the first touch of his hands as they spread and held her, then moved over her back and pulled her against him, verified the statement, told her how true it was—how very much he needed her.
The raw hunger in his kiss, the undisguised passion, the raging desire that fueled it, spoke eloquently of all he—and she, too—had feared, all they’d known they’d had at risk. Now the threat was behind them, conquered, vanquished, and in the aftermath, in the clear light of their victory, nothing was more apparent than the wonder and rightness of their dreams.
Their strength, their vulnerability—both sprang from the same source. The same overwhelming emotion that laid waste to all barriers and left them burning with one urgent and compulsive need.
Neither questioned it.
They shed clothes in the moonlight, let their inhibitions fall with them to the floor. He lifted her and they came together in a frenzy of need, of lust, of greedy passion, of molten, exultant desire. His need was hers; hers was his. They fed and gave succor, took, yielded, and let the raging tide swell.
Wrapped together, incandescent with glory, they gave themselves up to it, surrendered anew. She gave him all and he returned the pleasure, again and again, over and over until ecstasy built, rose and engulfed them. Caught them, trapped them in its golden fire.
They burned, clung, gasping as they reached the peak and soared, and the flames fell away.
Leaving them somewhere beyond the stars, far beyond the physical world.
Locked together, merged, as one they breathed, and felt, and knew. The moment stretched; full and deep, awareness touched them. Their gazes locked. A moment of heartbreaking stillness held them.
Passion, desire, and love. The smallest word held the greatest power.
This—all of this—was theirs. If they wanted. If they wished.
They both breathed in. The shimmering net released and fell away; the physical world returned and claimed them. With soft murmurs, soothing kisses, and caresses, they sank onto his bed.
Tomorrow, Alicia promised herself as, wrapped in his arms, she drifted into sleep.
He woke her the next morning, fully dressed, to explain that he’d sent a messenger to London last night, and now had to take Sir Freddie back to the capital.
Watching her as she blinked, valiantly trying to reassemble her wits, he grimaced. “I’ll return as soon as I can. Stay here with the boys. I suspect Geoffrey will want to take Adriana to meet his mother.”
He leaned close and kissed her, then rose and strode out.
Alicia stared at the doorway, then heard the door beyond close. No—wait! was her instinctive reaction. Instead, she sighed and rolled onto her back.
Foiled again, yet there was no point in ranting. Aside from all else, when she spoke to him of marriage, she wanted Sir Freddie and all his works finished with, no longer in any way hanging over them.
Which left her facing her current situation—in his room, in his bed—and how best to deal with it.
In the end, brazen and resolute, she decided to behave within his house precisely as she meant to go on; she had had enough of deceptions. She rang for water, washed while a round-eyed maid shook and brushed her gown, then, determined to be completely open and honest with Tony’s mother, she found her way back to the hall and was deferentially conducted to the breakfast parlor.
There, she found her four siblings in high spirits. Geoffrey rose as she entered; she smiled and waved him back, then bobbed a curtsy to the viscountess, seated at the end of the table.
Marie smiled warmly. “Come and sit here beside me, my dear. We have, I think, much to talk about.”
The light in her eyes was delighted, frank, and encouraging; Alicia took her words to heart, piled her plate high at the sideboard, then returned to sit at her side.
She’d barely taken the first bite when Geoffrey asked if he could take Adriana to visit at his home. “I’d like her to see the house and meet Mama.”
The viscountess, busy pouring Alicia a cup of tea, murmured, “Manningham Hall is but two miles away, and Geoffrey’s mama, Anne, is waiting to welcome your sister.”
Alicia glanced at Adriana, read the eager plea in her eyes. “Yes, of course.” With a flicker of her own resolve, she added, “It’s only sensible to seize the moment.”
Geoffrey and Adriana glowed with happiness; with various assurances, they excused themselves and left.
They passed Maggs in the doorway. He lumbered in, saluting both ladies. “If you’re agreeable, ma’am,” he addressed Alicia, “I’ll be taking these scamps down to the stream. I mentioned it this morning—seems they’ve been an age without holding a rod, and I’m happy to watch over them.”
As Alicia glanced at her brothers, Marie again murmured, “Maggs is entirely trustworthy.” She smiled at the large, homely man. “He’s been watching over Tony since he was no older than your David.”
Alicia regarded her brothers’ shining eyes and eager expressions. “If you promise to behave and do exactly as Maggs says…” She glanced at Maggs and smiled, too. “You may go.”
“H’ray!” Setting down napkins, pushing back their chairs, they rushed to Maggs, pausing only to make their bows to Alicia and the viscountess before happily heading off.
Alicia watched Matthew, his hand in Maggs’s, walk confidently out, and felt a rush of emotion. Not just for Matthew, but for the children she would bear; here, like this, with this sort of continuity was how children should be raised.
“Now!’ Marie settled back in her chair. At her signal, the young butler departed, leaving them alone. “You can eat, and I will talk, and we will learn all about each other, and you can tell me when your wedding is to be. With his customary flair for avoiding details, Tony hasn’t told me.”
Lifting her gaze from her plate, Alicia looked into Marie’s bright black eyes. “Yes, well…” She dragged in a breath; she hadn’t expected such a direct approach. “Indeed, that’s a subject I wished to discuss with you.”
She glanced around, confirming that they were indeed alone. She drew another breath, held it for a moment, then met Marie’s gaze. “I’m Tony’s mistress, not his intended bride.”
Marie blinked. A succession of emotions played across her features, then her eyes flared; she pressed her lips tight and reached across to lay her hand on Alicia’s arm. “My dear, I greatly fear I must, most contritely, apologize— not for my question, but for my oh-so-tardy son.”
Marie shook her head; Alicia realized with some surprise that she was struggling to keep her lips straight. Then Marie met her eyes again. “It seems he hasn’t told you either.”