Her knowing smile said she read him like a book. “Will you button me?” She came to stand close to him.
Adam fastened the small buttons, disgusted by the way his hands were shaking. “What would you like first, breakfast or bath?”
“Both. I would like to eat some breakfast while I soak with you.”
“Mm-hm.” It was the only sound he was capable of making as the clenching of his testicles almost doubled him over.
* * *
They lay in the enormous tub and Adam marveled that he’d never bathed with a lover. Mia, on the other hand, seemed as comfortable washing his body as she was her own. She scrubbed and soaped him with sensual efficiency. Her amusement at his constant erection was somewhat humiliating. She cocked one eyebrow as she studied the head of his penis above the water and met his eyes.
He shook his head. “No. Give me your foot.” He soaped her toes, trying to keep to the parts of her body that would not cause him to shame himself by ejaculating.
She lay back as he rubbed her feet and legs and took a piece of toast from the tea tray that had been placed next to the enormous bathtub.
“This is heaven.” Her eyes closed.
She was right. Adam was more relaxed this morning than he’d been in years—if ever. He was certainly more satisfied than he’d ever felt with his mistresses, whom he’d bedded and gifted but never exchanged intimacies with such as this.
“You’ll probably need to wait for your exhibition match until tomorrow. At this rate I’ll not have enough energy left to wield a fork.”
Her eyes opened to mere slits. “That is a pitiful admission, my lord marquess. Perhaps you need a more rigorous sparring partner to train with?”
“Are you applying for that position?” He wondered yet again whether he could take her once more and still have time to introduce her to her gift.
“I may have some available time.” She wrinkled her brow, as if mentally surveying a very crowded calendar.
Adam tugged on her foot and she slid forward. “Yes, yes, my lord! Of course I have space for just one more,” she laughingly protested as her chin dipped below the water, one hand held high to keep her toast dry.
He released her and rose from the tub. Her toast-free hand shot out and grabbed him.
By God, she was fast!
Adam took her by the wrist and gently pried away her fingers, gritting his teeth.
“You can play with that later.” He stepped away from her dangerous body and wrapped one of the large towels around his waist. “Dress for riding and meet me in the library in an hour.” He delivered the order with a stern look.
“I have a brand-new habit. I must warn you, it is of my own design and will most likely cause a sensation,” she called after him.
“I would expect nothing less.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Mia came down to the library—a whole fifteen minutes before the scheduled time—Adam could see she’d not exaggerated. Her riding habit was a bold black-and-white-striped affair. The stripes were full over her breasts and hips and narrowed at the waist, making her small figure appear a perfect hourglass.
The hat she wore was high-crowned with enormous white and black plumes on one side. The starkness of her black-and-white ensemble made her flame-colored hair and emerald green eyes even more stunning.
She stood before the desk and held her hands out to her sides, cocking one hip.
Adam surveyed her from head to toe before making a circular motion with his hand.
“Your father cannot have seen this,” he said, admiring the view of her small, pert bottom.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes twinkling. “The first batch of items I ordered he deemed much too unusual. He ordered them given away to some charity. I learned from that experience and allowed my cousin to influence the rest of my choices.”
Adam winced. “Ah. The estimable—and weepy—Miss Devane.” He paused. “She is not to accompany you to Exham as a companion?”
“I am afraid you shall not have that pleasure. I was happy to recommend her to my aunt Elizabeth, who is desperately in need of a companion due to her imminent lying-in. If I couldn’t have found poor Rebecca a place, you would have found yourself saddled with her. Indeed, you might find her in our home again sometime. I’m afraid she has only a small annuity. Such women are terribly vulnerable and reliant on the kindness of relatives.”
Adam didn’t say what he was thinking: that he would gladly settle a fortune and a house on the woman in order to keep her far away. Instead he said, “That reminds me. We must talk about your pin money and the account I have set up for you. Unless your father spoke to you?”
“He told me a little.” She gave him a look he couldn’t decipher.
Hill opened the door. “My lord, Townshend is bringing your gift around front.”
“Very good, Hill.” Adam stood, barely stopping himself from rubbing his hands together with excitement. He was worse than a young idiot on Christmas morning.
The mare he’d purchased for Mia was a superb animal, perfect for a rider with Mia’s limited experience yet young enough to grow with her. She was black except for a blaze on her forehead and two white socks, one in front and one in back.
Townshend brought the horses around front just as he and Mia descended the steps.
“Adam!” She instinctively went toward the smaller black horse instead of the tall, smoky gray. “She’s just gorgeous.”
She stripped off her gloves and dropped them and her crop to the sidewalk in her haste to stroke the glossy black neck. She murmured foreign words into the curiously bent ear.
“What is her name?” she asked, her eyes still on the horse.
“Her name is Maven but you may change that if it does not suit. I was given to understand the word means ‘one who understands. ’” Adam collected her gloves and whip and handed them to Thompson before taking Mia lightly around the waist and lifting her into the saddle.
“Thank you, Adam,” she said, suddenly shy.
Adam frowned and made a harrumphing sound, unable to come up with anything more sensible. Instead, he helped her with the long habit train and adjusted the stirrup. For once, the street was blessedly free of gawkers. Adam had hired several large men to patrol the block and encourage people to move along. It had served to diminish the carnival atmosphere that tended to develop wherever Mia went.
It was an unfashionable hour to ride and the park was thin. They were able to ride with almost no interruption, which suited Adam perfectly. He kept his attention on Mia, careful to make sure she was comfortable with their pace.
“You must have ridden a great deal as a child?” he asked, noticing her natural grace in the saddle. It was clear that she would quickly become comfortable again with only a little practice.
“Oh yes, too much, my mother said. In fact, my hoydenish obsession with horses and my inability to keep to my embroidery was a large part of why I was sent away to begin with.”
“Are you telling me I have created a hoyden by giving you a horse, my lady?”
“Oh no, I already was one. You are only providing a hoyden with the proper accouterments.” Her smile faded slightly. “My father is a great hunter and was desperate for a son. My mother had tried and failed thrice before they had me. I believe he was beginning to become resigned to me when Cian was born. But Cian was a very sickly child so His Grace made certain to prepare me for the hunt to cover his bets, I believe the saying is?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“That is one way of putting it. Is that something you picked up since your return to England?”
She shrugged, the gesture elegant and exotic when she did it. “I learned it on board the Batavia’s Ghost. The men did almost nothing but gamble when they were not at their tasks. It was very amusing to watch and listen although my—my servant was very disgusted in my interest in their games.” She gave him a vague smile, her face oddly flushed.
Now what was that about?
“When my brother grew stronger and it became clear my father would have the son he wanted, my mother decided she would have the daughter she wanted.” She gave him a wry smile. “And she did not want a girl who rode horses all day and spent the remainder of her time in the stables following the grooms and coming in late for dinner smelling like a horse.”
Adam could easily imagine her as a little girl: skinny, wild hair flying, mischievous green eyes.
“Your seat is very good,” he said, deciding he would let the earlier hitch in conversation go unremarked. He was far too suspicious of every small thing.
“Thank you, my lord. Thank you also for Maven. Will we take her with us?”
“Yes, of course. Although it sounds as if you might need a couple of hunters to keep up with you in the country.”
She gave a delighted laugh. “I would love to ride to hounds.”
Adam basked like a lovestruck ninny in the warmth of her laughter.
“Tell me of Exham Castle and the country around it. What is it like?”
“The castle was commissioned to protect England against the incessant threat of French invasion. It overlooks the River Exe and the earliest parts date from the 1380s. We no longer have catapults and cannons, of course, but you can see the places where they were once anchored. The castle has hosted its share of famous guests over the years, among them Richard III, Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth, and Charles II. During the Civil War the castle was held by Baron Robert de Courtney against the Roundheads for almost a year, until he was finally felled and the castle taken. But Robert’s loyalty was not forgotten and Charles II granted the castle to his offspring, Adam de Courtney, and elevated the family with an earldom.”
As Adam described the impressive de Courtney seat, he realized how much he was looking forward to going home. He missed both Exham and his family, no matter that each visit to his daughters was accompanied by so much anxiety.
He went on to describe the countryside, the small town of Exham, which had grown up to serve the castle, and the challenges of making a residence out of a military fortification. The ride passed quickly and they were back at Exley House before he knew it.
“What a chatterbox I am, my lady,” he murmured.
“I believe it is the first time you have spoken without the application of hot irons, my lord.” She looked at him with such open affection it took his breath away. Good God, she was adept at working her way under a man’s skin. Or at least his.
“Have we plans for this evening, my lord?”
“I had not made any. What would you care to do?”
“I thought perhaps a quiet dinner at home.”
Adam tried to ignore the rush of pleasure he felt at her words. “Very well. Perhaps afterward we can have that game of chess you threatened me with?”
“On one condition.”
Adam met her dancing green eyes and shook his head. “You haggle like a fishwife, my lady. What, then, is your condition?”
“I would ask that we dine less formally?”
“Do you mean with fewer servants? Or perhaps you mean you prefer to dine naked?”
She laughed and cut him a wicked look as they approached the waiting groom. “You will find me more than amenable to both suggestions, my lord.”
Adam was glad to dismount as his current condition was rapidly becoming unconducive to either comfort or his health. “You are being wicked, my lady,” he murmured, loud enough only for her ears.
“I trust you will not forget my wickedness ... Adam.”
Good Lord.
Chapter Nineteen
Mia got her sparring match the next day.
When the owner of the fencing school, a Frenchman named Beauleaux, learned of the proposed match, nothing would do but for him to come to Exley House himself.
Viscount Danforth also attended the informal event. He’d learned of the match from Adam when the two had met at his club.
“I told Exley that wild horses would not keep me away, my lady,” he told Mia when he arrived to witness the match.
Mia had quickly relaxed around the handsome young lord, who was easy-mannered and amusing. Danforth passed along several messages from his sisters, complete with intonation and actual wording, leaving her breathless with laughter by the time he was done.
The two of them amused each other while Adam and the fencing master donned their safety equipment and clothing, murmuring quietly to each other as they limbered up across the room.
They used the largest drawing room, which had an enormous set of wooden doors along one side that could be folded back, joining the room to the adjacent music room to make a nice-sized ballroom—or, in this case, fencing arena.
“Do you fence, my lord?” Mia asked Danforth after they had both stopped laughing at a message Livia sent.
“I try, but I am nothing to your husband. He is quite singular, as you will soon see. I believe even Beauleaux has his hands full with him. Of course, Beauleaux is now past his prime, but he was reckoned to be one of the best in the world in his youth.”
“Adam practices quite a bit, I believe?”
“Yes, I think he enjoys it as much for the exercise as for the actual fencing. He has an enormous amount of energy.” He looked at her. “But you probably know that far better than I, my lady.”
She raised her brows at him and, to her amusement, he colored as darkly as the burgundy silk that covered the drawing room walls.
“Begging your pardon, my lady, that is to say,” he stuttered. “I only meant you must know him best, as you are his wife.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Mia said, watching as Adam lowered his fencing mask. Mia believed he was just as enigmatic-looking without the mask. “He is a private man.”
“Yes, he is. I daresay he’s always been that way, even before his disastrous first marriage.”
Even this man knew more about Adam’s marriages than Mia. The last day and a half had been filled with an entirely unexpected growing ease between her and Adam, although he’d still not volunteered anything about himself or his past wives. She’d had her chance when she’d bargained for answers. Of course, she was curious about his past, but she didn’t want to be the one who broached a subject he could only find unpleasant. She would leave the timing of such disclosures to him.
Danforth leaned closer. “Exley does his best to cultivate a reputation as an uncaring hedonist but he has been remarkably helpful to my sisters. They are beginning a home for disadvantaged women, complete with a school to teach them new skills. Without his help—and money—the school would never have become reality. He is also converting one of his larger properties into a place where orphaned boys can learn a trade without the cruelty associated with so many apprenticeships. He spends a lot of his time on these projects and has become quite a force for reform, and his views are respected in Parliament. Luckily, the men who sit in Lords are not as condemning of his past as their wives and daughters.”
“Your sisters told me about both projects. I am grateful as he would never talk about such things, at least not willingly.”
“Give him time. He will open his budget with you, just as he has with me and my sisters.” He grinned, exposing a charming dimple. “Exley will thrash me if he learns I’ve been talking out of school but I don’t regret telling you.” He looked across the room at his armed friend and frowned. “Even so, perhaps you should not tell him until you are well out of London.”
She laughed at his mock-terrified expression.
His look turned serious. “If it were up to Exley, everyone would believe him to be the villain he is painted.”
Mia had come to the same conclusion. Her husband was much more comfortable with censure than praise. Perhaps it was merely a matter of habit, or the result of enduring years of suspicious looks and snubs.
The match between the two men was exciting and invigorating. The energy they expended, and the grace and power with which they moved, was very like a lethal dance.
As far as Mia co
uld tell, her husband was indeed a master of the art. He was as smooth and clever with his foil as his instructor. The number of touches they scored off each other was never off by more than one.
The exhibition lasted perhaps three-quarters of an hour, and by its conclusion the Frenchman was breathing so heavily Mia did not think he’d given ground to his wealthy student.
Adam’s pale face was flushed when he removed his protective headgear. His damp hair and slick skin were mute evidence of the effort the match had required of him.
The men toweled off and removed their plastrons before coming to join Mia and Danforth. Beauleaux was persuaded to take a small glass of wine before returning to his studio, where he said the students would be lined up and waiting.
Danforth made his bow shortly afterward, reminding them he would see them later that evening at his sisters’ dinner party.
Mia found herself alone with her uncharacteristically rumpled husband.
He stood. “I will go make myself more respectable. Shall we take a ride after I have washed and changed?”
Mia stared, unable to fathom how he could not see how aroused she’d become watching him. She took his arm and walked with him toward the door. “I have a better idea, my lord.”
“Oh?” he asked, allowing himself to be led up the stairs.
Mia marched him toward his chambers, flinging open the door before Adam could reach the handle. Sayer stood inside the room, his arms filled with a stack of linen.
“You are not needed here, Sayer. I will valet His Lordship.”
Mia turned to her silent, stupefied husband and pulled at his cravat, deftly removing it in one motion. She smiled up at Adam, who was shaking his head at her. He mouthed the word naughty.
“Have a bath made ready for His Lordship in an hour,” Mia ordered.
“Very good, my lady,” Sayer murmured, as if the mistress of the house came into her husband’s chambers every day and acted as valet.
Adam ignored his servant, never taking his eyes from Mia.
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