by Ella Quinn
“There are also other children there,” Lady Wivenly said. Mrs. Rymer’s mouth opened. “Not mulattos or blackamoors. That would bring too much attention to the estate, and we would no longer be able to use it.”
She nodded.
“Mrs. Rymer.” Adeline placed her empty cup on a small side table. “Will you allow us to help you and your family?”
Frits had not even thought to ask the question, but, of course, it was the woman’s decision to make.
After gnawing on her bottom lip for a while, she finally nodded. “If you are sure you can get my husband away from Tortola, then yes.”
Although the sound wasn’t loud, they all breathed a sigh of relief. But there was still another problem to resolve. “Now that that’s settled, what am I to tell Lettsome?”
Silence settled over the room until Adeline broke it. “Mrs. Rymer, did anyone know you left the Lettsome house?”
“The cook knows, but she is the only one.” Mrs. Rymer glanced at them. “She knew—everyone knew—what was going on, and most of them did not approve. Yet, what could they do?” She picked up her cup, found it empty, and set it back down. “When your servant came to the door, she sent the scullery maids on an errand so they could truthfully say they did not see me leave.”
Adeline poured the woman another cup of tea, then turned to Frits. “You can say that you were out for the rest of the day and evening, and when you returned, the child was not there.” A cunning look entered her silver eyes. “You can even tell him that you thought Lettsome was responsible, and you are not at all happy about it.”
“What an excellent idea,” Lady Wivenly said approvingly.
“I wholeheartedly agree.” He had no idea his love could be so devious, and admired her even more. “That might make him think I don’t know anything about the lad’s disappearance.” At least he hoped it would.
“To further that story,” Wivenly said, “my groom was instructed to tell your servants, if asked, to say that the child was no longer there.”
With everyone saying the same thing, that should throw Lettsome off the proverbial scent.
The butler entered and bowed. “My lord, my lady, you will be overly late for the ball if you do not depart immediately. The coach is waiting.” He turned to Mrs. Rymer. “If you please, madam, your clothing and Peter’s have arrived. Mrs. Newton, our housekeeper, will show you to your rooms.”
* * *
The ball was the best one Frits had ever attended and it was all due to his ability to dance with Adeline three times and remain with her for most of the evening. He also learned the value of a well-placed scowl directed toward gentlemen who thought to ask her to stand up with them.
All three of their dances were waltzes, and it was hard not to hold her closer to him than propriety dictated. They didn’t dare discuss the boy and his mother, but there was nothing stopping him from telling her more about Littlewood. He suspected she would want to see the pair comfortably settled, which meant that he might be able to entice her to visit his home.
“You are in a very good mood this evening.” They made the turn at the end of the dance floor.
“I’m always in a good mood,” he lied, although it did take a lot to anger him. Such as seeing a man try to harm a child. “Still, it has been an excellent day.”
They held their clasped hands over their heads and pranced around.
“It has been.” Adeline had to glance away, hiding her smile the first time Frits frightened away a would-be dance partner. She was sure he did not realize that she knew, but the knowing look on her brother’s face had given it away.
She was so impressed by him and the way he cared about a child he had never even seen before, it was as if all her questions and doubts had been resolved. And the way he had remained by her side, even when she was not giving him a reason to, spoke favorably for him. Early in the Season, she had vowed not to marry a rake—and when he’d asked if he could court her, she was still positive he must be one of the species—then something her mother had said about her father being a rake before they wed, and what happened when rakes fell in love, and how they wanted to protect their ladies, began to make sense. Now that she thought about it, that was definitely something her brother and his friends did, and she knew for a fact that they had all been rakes. Well, with the notable exception of Merton.
“I believe this is my set.” Frits’s breath lightly brushing her ear caused pleasurable frissons to scramble down her neck and over her shoulders.
“I think it is. Not that I have any other dance partners.” Tilting her head, she met his too-innocent gaze.
“I cannot be sorry about that.” A smile played around the corners of his mouth.
Was there a male equivalent of a minx? For that was what he was.
They took their positions, and now that she allowed herself to enjoy his company, Adeline could admit that she loved the feel of his hand engulfing her fingers, and the solidity of his palm on her waist. To be held in Frits’s arms as if she weighed nothing more than air was thrilling. Unlike her thoughts about Lord Anglesey, she did not wonder why Frits wanted her. There was something about his determination and certainty that convinced her he just wanted her. For herself and no other reason.
He captured her eyes with his sparkling green ones, and they did not even have to talk. Her thoughts meandered to the one kiss they had shared, and she wondered when he would kiss her again. On the other hand, they were never in a place where he could kiss her. Perhaps instead of riding in his carriage, they would be better served by walking in the garden at Watford House. There was a small rose arbor in a secluded corner of the garden that would give them sufficient privacy.
“You are deep in thought.” His low voice intruded on her thoughts, and heat infused her face.
Adeline was absolutely not going to tell him what she had been thinking. “I–I was thinking that I would like to accompany the child and his mother to the country.”
“Is that what made you blush?” His slightly grave tone sounded like he was ready to seduce her right here in the ballroom. How was it possible that he could do that just using his voice?
“Umm, no.” Fortunately, the music ended, saving her from the embarrassment of answering.
Unfortunately, he did not allow the conversation to end. “Hmm. If it was not the journey”—he tapped his perfectly sculpted lips, riveting her eyes to them—“what else could it be?”
Except when he had asked her to allow him to court her, Frits had behaved like a perfect gentleman. Yet now, now Adeline wondered if she would like to see more of the rake. No, she was certain she wanted to see that side of him.
As heat traveled up her neck into her face, she ducked her head. Goodness, she did not even have the excuse of another dance partner to leave him until she could regain her countenance.
Yet, as if he knew she needed a moment, he greeted Exeter. “Is the wedding set?”
“Yes.” The man smiled broadly. “In ten days. Lady Huntingdon is sending out invitations for the wedding breakfast soon. I hope to see you there.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Frits glanced at Adeline, and she thought he might mention them. Instead, he slapped Exeter on the back. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you and Lady Dorie.”
“I as well.” The look in her eyes when Dorie had told Adeline she thought she had missed her chance had been distressing. “I think you are very well suited.” And very much in love.
Dorie joined them, took Exeter’s arm, and glanced at Adeline and Frits. “I hope we are not the only ones who find their perfect mate this Season.”
He drew Adeline closer, causing her skirts to brush the tops of his dress pumps. “I hope so as well.”
Her friend’s smile included Frits. At last, the contretemps was ended. Georgie strolled through the door to the terrace with Lord Turley, and Adeline motioned toward the couple with her chin. “I think this might be a productive Season.”
The others looked in the di
rection she had indicated and nodded in agreement. It would be wonderful if all her friends wed this Season. Henrietta had mentioned that Lord Phineas had been seen traveling toward Dover, and Adeline wondered if he would be able to convince Augusta to marry him.
Dorie and Exeter, being an engaged couple, joined the next set because they could dance together as much as they wished. That raised the question of what Adeline needed to know about Frits to ensure he was the absolute right gentleman for her?
Or had she already decided and merely wished to kiss him again?
But how to manage it?
All through supper, she let the conversation float around her as she considered one plan and then another. Any kissing in the Park was plagued with problems. Even if they went off on a path, they could be discovered, even early in the morning. She could, she supposed, suggest they go to the terrace, but even now her brother might object. That would be embarrassing.
The rose arbor in her mother’s garden was the best place for a kiss. But how should she encourage him to kiss her again? She might need time to make him understand what she wanted. But first, he had to come to her house. There was nothing for it. She must act with daring. “You should come to tea tomorrow.”
“Tea?” His eyes roamed her face, as if searching for something. “I would be delighted.”
But now that she had invited him, would she have the courage to take him to the arbor and kiss him?
Or would he be able to work out what she wanted and kiss her first?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next afternoon, Frits arrived promptly at three o’clock. When it came to Adeline, he was always either perfectly on time or early, because she was equally punctual. Of the many things they had in common, this was her most endearing trait. Well, that and her habit of looking at him as if she was actually interested in what he had to say and not his wealth or rank. Not to mention loving his dog. Now that he thought about it, he found most of her traits charming. Nevertheless, if he managed to bring Adeline up to scratch—and it appeared more and more likely he would—never again would he have to wait on some woman who thought requiring him to kick his heels would make him appreciate her more. Which it never did.
The butler answered the door and escorted him to a sun-filled room at the back of the house. That they would still have so much light at this time of day gave him pause. Then he noticed that not only the wall to the garden was filled with windows, but the side wall was as well.
As soon as he was announced, he bowed. “My ladies.”
“Littleton”—Lady Watford rose to greet him, and Adeline followed—“I am delighted you could join us.”
Her ladyship began organizing the tea tray that had just arrived, giving him time to greet his soon-to-be betrothed. Clasping Adeline’s fingers, he was pleased to feel them curve around his. He raised her hands to his lips and gently pressed a kiss on each one. “Thank you for asking me to tea.”
Her silver eyes widened, and a light blush bloomed in her cheeks. He’d never tire of her blushes. After they married, he’d have to think of ways to keep her blushing.
She lowered her eyes, and her long, thick lashes created fans on her cheeks. “I–I thought we should spend more time together. Without everyone else in the ton around.”
“I quite agree.”
Her mother cleared her throat. “Adeline, please come and pour.”
The rose in her face deepened as she looked down at their hands. Reluctantly he let hers go, and placed her hand on his arm. “I like milk and two sugars in my tea.”
“Thank you for telling me.” He escorted her the short way to her mother, who had patted a place on the sofa.
Once Adeline had taken her seat, he took the chair nearest her.
As he had expected, she poured with confidence and grace. “Perhaps after we finish, we can stroll in the garden.”
That was a surprise. “It looks lovely. I believe I see some roses I haven’t seen before.”
“I had no idea you were interested in roses,” Lady Watford said, and launched into a discussion of the flowers, some of which had been brought back from Persia in the last century.
Frits made the appropriate answers, but couldn’t wait until he had Adeline alone. It had to have been the longest cup of tea he had ever experienced.
Fortunately, once they had finished one cup, she rose and donned a bonnet that had been on a chair by the door. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” He forced himself to slow when what he wanted to do was drag her outside where they could be somewhat alone. “Do you enjoy gardening?”
“I do.” She smiled at him. “But unlike my mother, I rather enjoy getting my hands dirty.” She gave him a wry look. “Unfortunately, our gardener does not appreciate my assistance.”
He’d sack any gardener who made her feel unwelcome. “In that case, you need your own garden, where your gardener listens to you instead of to himself.”
Her answering laughter was not the false titter frequently heard in Polite Society, but one from deep inside her. “That is exactly what I require. A place where I can plant what I wish.”
Frits had just the spot for her at Littlewood, and a gardener who would be happy for her involvement. How soon could he take her there? “Exactly.”
She led him down a winding path past a fountain of a woman pouring water from an urn, and another of a boy urinating. He stopped and stared.
“It’s a replica of a famous fountain in Brussels.” Adeline stopped with him. “My grandfather saw it on his Grand Tour and sketched it. When he came into the title, he had it built.”
“Interesting.” Frits might have to take Adeline to Brussels someday to see the original one, and try to understand why a lad pissing was so important.
She started walking again, and he went with her. Where was she taking him?
Finally, she stopped in front of a fragrant display of white and yellow climbing roses covering an arbor. “I want you to see the arbor roses. They were brought here from China.”
“They are magnificent.” He could easily see them at Littlewood. Would Adeline like to re-create this arbor there?
Next to him, she stilled. Then she breathed in and out again and stared up at him. “When you kissed me at the garden party, and I told you that you should not—”
Ah, this was where she was taking him. “And I said no, but made it a question.”
Her fingers clutched his sleeve so tightly, his valet would never get the wrinkles out. “I thought”—she bit down nervously on her bottom lip—“well, I—”
This would take all day if he left it to her, and they might not even get where they both wanted to be. “Yes.”
Gathering her in his arms, Frits lightly touched his lips to hers, adding pressure only when her mouth softened. God, the only other kiss he’d ever experienced that was so innocent and sweet was the last time he’d kissed her. Rising on her toes, she slid her arms over his shoulders, tangling her fingers in his hair. He held her tightly against his chest, so that she wouldn’t fall. Or so he told himself. The feel of her lush breasts pressed against him almost brought him to his knees. When he stroked her back, and down over her bottom, she opened her lips on a sigh, and he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, asking her to join him, and she did. Slowly at first, tentatively as if she was learning a new dance, then with increasing urgency. Her arms tightened and his cock strained against his pantaloons and her lower belly. His body clamored to make her his. If he lifted her the slightest bit more, she’d be able to feel his erection on her mound. Just the thought had his heart beating harder.
The breaths they exchanged had become ragged. Somehow, her feet ended up on top of his, and he knew he had to stop this, stop them before he convinced himself that the rose bower was the perfect place to consummate their union.
He stroked her petal-soft cheek with his thumb and slowly broke the kiss. “Adeline. My sweetheart.” Her silver gaze was filled with confusion and desire. “I love you
.”
* * *
Adeline had never thought a kiss could be so, so consuming. So wonderful. Being held by Frits was better than she had ever thought it could be. The tingling she had felt before when he touched her was nothing like the flames licking her skin and heating her blood. The part between her legs throbbed with desire. She had never experienced so many physical sensations at one time, and she wished it could continue. Then he was gazing at her with his warm, emerald eyes, and saying he loved her, and she was not ready for that. Yet if she did not tell him that she loved him too, especially after that kiss, he might give up on her. And she knew she absolutely did not want him to do that. He would think she was a wanton, kissing a gentleman she was not sure she loved or wished to wed. If only he had waited a few days more.
Still, what would it hurt to say the words? She was so close, so close to knowing her heart. She didn’t even know what else she was waiting for to be sure. “I love you too.”
He smiled and kissed her again. Slowly, gently, as if he was determined not to allow the kiss to flame as it had before. He held her to him and sighed. “We should go back. Your mother will come looking for us if we don’t.”
“Of course.” Adeline had forgotten all about her mother.
He caught her hand in his and twined their fingers together as they strolled back up the path. “I’d like you to visit Littlewood. It’s not far from Town. Only a few hours.”
“Yes. I would like that a great deal.” A breeze ruffled her hair. Her hat. It must have fallen off. “I have forgotten my bonnet.”
“I’ll go back for it,” he offered.
“I shall go. If my mother sees me, she will wonder why I removed it.” She turned, but Frits went with her.
“I am not going to the house without you.” He looked almost panicked.
He was right; that would be begging her mother to ask questions. “I suppose we can both fetch it.” The hat was on the ground. Frits picked it up and brushed it off before handing it to her. “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure.” His voice sounded more formal than it had before. Was something wrong?
