Their days were glorious, their nights . . . exquisite. Locked in each other’s arms they explored the boundaries of desire, pushed the limits of their passion. Each time together was more magnificent than the time before. Maggie thought surely mere humans weren't meant to experience such ecstasy, surely mere mortals could not long survive such pleasure, surely only the gods themselves were allowed to slip the bonds of earth and soar to the heights where her soul and Adam's emerged as one. Even when time ripped them apart, a piece of their hearts would stay always with the other.
By mutual, unspoken agreement, neither mentioned the days rushing past, leading them inevitably to the end. Maggie couldn't help but keep a running countdown in her head. They returned to town a week before she was to leave, regretfully saying good-bye to perfect days and endless nights.
Maggie and Adam sampled all the delights Regency London had to offer. He wanted to want to show off his city and his century, wanted her to see everything in its best light. They returned to the British Museum and toured the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey. They attended a masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens and went once to the theater. Maggie was fascinated by everything and realized part of her pleasure came from the presence of the man at her side.
Now and then she'd catch Adam watching her speculatively and hoped he wasn't thinking about trying to change her mind about leaving. She'd brush the idea aside, refusing to dwell on the parting to come. But with every shared laugh, every tender moment, every passion-filled encounter came the unbidden thought. There were not many left.
For the most part, Lydia wisely left them alone, but two nights after their return to London, Adam and Maggie planned to go with her to another ball. Maggie didn't care how long she stayed, she'd never get over the passion with which these people threw themselves into entertaining and being entertained. Of course, they all seemed to have endless supplies of money and no real jobs to worry about.
Maggie dressed earlier than the others and wandered down to the library. She wore a rather simply cut, cream-colored gown and was no longer even mildly bothered by the revealing décolletage. She twirled experimentally around the room. Tonight, once again, Adam would take her in his arms and they would waltz, flying across the floor in a manner that was far too wonderful to be called a mere dance. Maggie would miss the waltz, miss the elegant clothes, and most especially miss this room.
The library would always be her favorite place. Here she and Adam fought and made up and made love. She ran her fingers lightly over the well-polished mahogany desk. Did this room, this house, still exist in her time? She firmly pushed the thought away. She wouldn't let such musings intrude on the precious little time left.
A discreet tap sounded at the door and Wilson entered quietly. “Miss, you have a visitor. Shall I show him in?"
“A visitor? Who would be visiting me? How strange. Well, thanks. I guess he can come on in."
Wilson withdrew and a moment later Edward Lindley stepped into the room.
“Edward!" Maggie beamed, genuinely pleased to see him. "How nice to see you again. But"—she gave him an apologetic glance—"I’m afraid it's kind of a bad time. We're just getting ready to go out."
“This shan't take long," Edward said somberly, and Maggie frowned, puzzled by his serious tone.
"Okay, what’s up?"
"Up?" Edward questioned, then shook his head as if to clear her unusual phrase from his mind. "Maggie, I know that you and Ridgewood have resolved your differences.”
“How did you—" Maggie paused and the answer hit her. "Oh, the business at his club. Does everybody know about that?"
"Only most of London, I should think," Edward responded wryly. "You have created quite a sensation."
"And quite a lot of gossip, too, I bet." Maggie laughed and shrugged. "That's the way it goes. By the way, I haven't thanked you for listening to me when I needed a friend. I really appreciate it."
"I told you then I did not merely want to be your friend.” His blue eyes glittered strangely. "I want much more than that.”
“Edward." She gave him a teasing smile to hide her growing unease, increasingly aware of the odd way he stared at her.
"Come away with me, Maggie. Marry me. We can be in Gretna Green before morning."
Speechless, Maggie stared. "Edward. Haven't we been all through this? I appreciate the offer. It's nice to be asked but I don't want to marry you. Adam and I are, well, involved. So thanks, but no thanks."
Edward's eyes darkened, his features hardened. He appeared different, frightening somehow.
“Edward, don't take it so hard. I can't imagine you honestly thought I'd accept."
"It would be for the best, Maggie." His voice was soft and persuasive and he slowly approached her. The narrowing distance between them unnerved her but Maggie stood her ground. "Ridgewood is no good for you, Maggie. He will only destroy you."
"That's okay, I'll take my chances." This was getting really weird. Maggie didn't think Edward would actually hurt her but the look in his eyes was spooky. Adam should be down any minute. Stalling Edward seemed her best bet. "What's Gretna Green anyway? Sounds like a golf course."
"It's a village just over the Scottish border." He had crossed the room. Only the desk stood between them. "Eager lovers go there to be wed."
"Well then, we can't go there, can we?" She inched backward. "I'm so not eager. And we're friends, remember, not lovers."
"Not yet,” he growled, circling the desk.
She matched her movements to his, keeping the desk between them. This guy was definitely nuts. Maybe she needed to be firmer. "Edward, there's no way I'm going to marry you, so you can knock this nonsense off."
“Maggie, you will accompany me. Willingly.” He paused and pulled a wicked-looking dagger from beneath his coat. "Or not." He shrugged as if he didn't care one way or the other. "It is up to you."
"Edward, don't you think you're being overly dramatic?" Again they circled the desk in a bizarre dance. "You have a real problem with rejection, don't you?"
The gleam in his eye seemed sharper, his look crueler. "It is your decision."
"I don't think you've given this enough thought." Maggie kept her gaze on Edward on the opposite side of the desk, watching out of the corner of her eye for the door to the library to open. Surely Adam would walk through any time now. "I'd make a lousy wife. I'm stubborn and impulsive. I have absolutely no regard for propriety. I mean look, I've already created a major scandal."
"It only adds to the excitement."
Her mind raced; surely there were other reasons why she'd be a bad choice for a wife. "You're in line for a title, right?"
"I will be an earl when my grandfather dies.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"
"Well . . ." Why, Maggie? Think! "Then I'd be like, what, an earlette? It sounds like something you'd get at a movie. I'd like a soft drink and a box of earlettesnettes. See, I don't even know the right words and I am completely irreverent. I'd only embarrass you. And besides. . ." It hit her. "I'm an American. You guys don't think too highly of Americans. We're crude, we're boisterous, were big mouths. And none of us have titles. All your friends would think you’d married beneath you."
"I do not care," he muttered through clenched teeth.
They kept their measured pace, Maggie not letting him get any closer, keeping the desk between them. "Edward, I don't get it. Why are you so hot and bothered to marry me anyway? Basically we’ve just shared a couple of drinks together. Even where I'm from, that's no basis for a long-term commitment."
The dagger in his hand matched the daggers in his eyes and it finally dawned on Maggie. This time she was in real danger. Even the Rocky Mountain School of Karate and Martial Arts self-defense course for women never covered how to defend yourself against a knife-wielding, nineteenth-century lunatic while wearing an elaborate, formal gown.
"Ridgewood wants you. That is enough for me.”
"Adam? No, you've got it all wrong.” Where the hell was Adam?
"You were right all along. He was just toying with me, using me. He’s going to dump me anytime now. So if that's what this is all about, you can forget it. It's all a mistake." She smiled and shrugged, hoping he would buy the lie.
"I do not believe you." He spit the words at her and the two stared at each other.
"Maggie, are you in here?" Adam strode into the room, apparently unaware of their guest.
"Adam!” Maggie lunged toward him. In a flash, Edward grabbed her arm and crushed her against him, pulling her behind the desk, the dagger poised at her throat.
“Maggie!" Adam leapt forward then pulled up short. The meaning of the scene in front of him clear. "Good God."
"Adam," Maggie squeaked. "I believe you know Edward Lindley, don't you?"
“Lindley, what is the meaning of all this?" Adam appeared calm but Maggie sensed the tension in every line of his body.
Edward's voice rang cold. "I have waited a very long time for this, Ridgewood.”
Edward stood slightly to Maggie’s side and she could get a twisted glimpse of his features. She did not like the look of sheer hatred on his face.
"Adam, he says he wants to marry me. I keep trying to tell him he doesn't want me for a wife. I can be a real bitch. Tell him, Adam."
Adam shrugged. "I vow, she can be most exceedingly difficult."
Maggie gave him a scathing glare. His agreement was a little too enthusiastic. "And I have a nasty temper and a vulgar vocabulary."
"Bloody hell, Lindley, she sounds like a street urchin half the time, the other half like a seasoned sailor."
Adam was trying to help, but he didn't have to enjoy it quite so much. After all, she did have a knife at her throat.
“See, Edward. You really don't want to many me."
"Perhaps," he said quietly, "I shall kill you instead."
"Oh, great." Maggie groaned. Suddenly marriage didn't seem so bad.
Adam was obviously taking Edward's suggestion seriously. It wasn't anything he did overtly, but his voice hardened, his stance tightened. His gaze captured Lindley's. "Why?"
Edward laughed, an eerie, crazy sound. "Why, Ridgewood? I cannot possibly expect you to remember someone who obviously played such a tiny part in your extremely full life."
"Remember who? You?" Adam stared, puzzled.
“Not me." Edward scoffed. "Eleanor Chatterton."
A wave of emotion swept quickly over Adam's face, vanishing as abruptly as it appeared.
"She had position and wealth,” Edward said. "But that meant nothing to me. I loved her. I loved her for years and was living for the day I could make her mine. But she had eyes only for you. Even when you rejected her and I offered my suit, she disregarded me." Edward paused as if remembering the scene, then continued bitterly. "She said if she could not have you she would not settle for me. That night she took her own life."
The room fell silent.
“Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry,” Maggie said softly.
Her words seemed to drag him back from the past and he raised blazing eyes to Adam. “You did that to me, Ridgewood. Now I shall do it to you. I shall have the woman you love. She will belong to me."
Adam gave him a look of disgust. “She will not belong to you and does not belong to me. Women are not property to be passed around like cattle."
"Adam!" Maggie cried with delight. "You've finally got it. I am really proud of you." In her surprised pleasure Maggie instinctively took a step toward him, only to be jerked back hard against Edward's chest.
"Quiet!" Edward shouted. "Listen to me closely. She will marry me or I shall kill her. Either way, Ridgewood, you lose and will finally know the same pain I did."
"Wait a minute," Maggie tossed in. “You're going to kill me to make him miserable? Don't you see a problem here? I mean, yeah, he'll mourn and grieve for a while but then life goes on. I'll be dead and buried and he'll be alive and well. Do you really think this is the best way to get even?"
"Does she always talk so much?” Edward said impatiently.
Adam shrugged in resignation. "Always."
“Okay, guys, let me make sure I have this straight. It's marriage to Edward or death, right?"
"Precisely," Edward said.
“Well then." Maggie paused and took a deep breath. "I guess it's marriage. Okay Edward, I'll marry you."
"Excellent," Edward sneered.
"Bloody hell," Adam said.
“Well, Adam, it's not like I have much of a choice here." An idea flashed through her mind. One that might work. If she could get Adam to understand. Right now he looked so flabbergasted she wasn't sure if anything could penetrate. Still, she sure didn't have much to lose. "So, let's toast our engagement. Brandy sounds good to me. And Edward, you could probably let go of me now, you know, put the knife down."
"I am not a fool," Edward growled, but he did relax his grip.
"Now, Adam." Maggie's gaze locked with his and she prayed he'd understand. "Remember the first time we met, the very first time? In this very room? You told me how great that brandy was?" She glanced at the heavy crystal decanter on the table and his gaze followed hers. "Remember how I offered it to you that day?"
A puzzled frown knit his brow. "You offered it to me?"
"Yeah, remember?" Please remember. "But you pointed out how fine it was and suggested I have something else instead?"
"I suggested . . ." Comprehension finally dawned on his face. "Of course, yes, certainly I remember."
Adam strode to the table and grabbed the decanter. He approached Edward and Maggie cautiously.
"Don't come any closer," Edward barked.
Adam stopped in his tracks. "I was simply going to offer the brandy."
"And I really need it, Edward." Maggie words bubbled out fast and furiously. "All this excitement, I really think I'm going to pass out or something." She willed herself to go limp and sagged in his arms, forcing him to pay more attention to the arm supporting her and less to the hand with the knife. "Oh, yeah, I’m going to faint. Right here. Any minute."
Her eyes met Adam's. Surely he understood. "Probably going to keel over right here on this desk. Yeah, I can feel it coming . . . right . . . now!" She lunged forward, flinging herself over the desk. Maggie caught a fast glimpse of Adam hurling the decanter like a major-league pitcher. A sharp pain pricked her neck. A thud sounded inches behind her. Brandy rained over her head and the decanter hit the floor with a resounding crash. She jerked up from the desk and whirled around. Edward lay unconscious on the floor.
She stared at Adam with open admiration. "Good shot!" She glanced at Edward. "Jeez, I hope you didn't kill him."
Adam was at her side in a second, crushing her to him. "He deserves it, but I doubt if he's dead.” He tipped her chin up and stared into her eyes. "Bloody hell, Maggie, I don't even know what to say to you anymore. Every time I turn around you're in some kind of trouble and you always seem to be able to get yourself out of it."
Maggie pulled back and gazed into his face in amazement. "Adam, you're the one who did it. You saved my life."
"No, my love. It was your idea." He shook his head slowly. “You are indeed well able to take care of yourself. You don't need me.”
His statement hung in the air between them and Maggie didn't know what to say. She stared up at him and read fresh pain in his eyes. She wanted to reassure him. Of course she needed him. Didn't she? The thought shook her, and at this moment she wasn't sure if she knew the answer.
"Adam, don't be silly." She laughed nervously, dismissing his comment. It was an unsatisfactory response. She knew it and sensed he did, too. Maggie hurried to change the subject.
She stepped away and gestured to her clothes. "What a mess. I'm a disaster. I've got brandy just about everywhere." She reached a hand up and swiped at her neck. "Look at this." She held out a hand covered with brandy and . . . blood.
"Blood!” she cried. "I'm bleeding! He cut me!"
Adam leaned forward and examined her neck. "Maggie, it's barely a scratch."<
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The room swayed around her. "Adam, you don't understand." The lights grew dim. "It's blood, it's my blood." Her knees buckled slowly. "I'm not very good with blood," she murmured and crashed face forward onto the desk once more, this time for real.
Adam stared blankly for just a moment, then chuckled. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the sofa, the chuckle growing to a full-fledged laugh. The woman who stood up to him without a second thought, handled kidnappers with apparent ease, and unflinchingly dealt with a knife-wielding lunatic, his courageous, spirited Maggie . . . couldn't bear the sight of her own blood.
Chapter Nineteen
Maggie's eyes fluttered open and Adam's amused face filled her line of sight. "Adam." She struggled to sit up. “What happened?"
He sat on the sofa beside her reclining figure and chuckled. “You fainted. I never would have imagined"—he shook his head wryly—"you, of all people, overset by a little blood."
She clapped her hand to her neck and fingered a bandage there. "It's not that I'm afraid, actually," she said defensively. "It's just that when it's mine, I find it, well, unnerving." She glared up at him. "Does this make you happy?"
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. His gaze never left hers. "Ecstatic."
The touch of his lips sent a thrill of electricity racing through her and she wanted nothing more than to be crushed in his arms, lost in his embrace.
"Hey!” She sat upright abruptly and stared toward the desk. "Where's Edward?"
“The servants are watching him. He is still unconscious. I have sent for the authorities."
She searched his face anxiously. “What was that all about? Was there any truth in what Edward said?"
Adam pulled his gaze from hers and stared unseeing across the room. "Eleanor was the woman I told you about. The woman gossip linked me with right before my father died. I paid perhaps more attention to her than I should have, but I never believed she considered it was more than a mild flirtation."
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