The Sleeping Beauty

by Jacqueline Navin

  He stopped without warning. Her eyes fluttered open to find him staring off over her left shoulder. Drugged from his kiss, she didn’t understand why he had ceased such lovely torment.

  His face was hardened. His hands came to her shoulders, firmly gripping her as he set her away from him. She resisted weakly, wanting his closeness. Then he said, “I don’t believe we’ve met,” and it finally occurred to her that he had ended the kiss because they were no longer alone.

  “Sorry,” a strange male voice said. “I seem to have a knack for getting into awkward situations.”

  Whirling, Helena found herself facing a man she vaguely remembered, although full recognition eluded her. The ruddy face, the thick frame, the droll, sarcastic tone all tugged at her memory.

  The man continued. “My cursed lack of manners, I suppose, but I don’t see how it could have been helped this time. I just rode over for a quick hello, and there you, ah, were.” His merry eyes slid from Adam to a breathless Helena. “Hello, Lady Helena.”

  Yes, she remembered now. It was Gerald Hunt, Jareth’s cousin. Straightening, Helena took the time to pull her dignity into place. It was no small task, considering the circumstances. “Hello, Gerald. I’m afraid we didn’t hear you.”

  “Understandable.” He grinned, and although he was rubbing in the awkwardness of the moment, he did it with a twinkle in his eye.

  Since meeting Gerald when she was being courted by Jareth Hunt, she had found him to be a strange man. He seemed intent on presenting himself as a scoundrel, but he was much too decent a person to convince anyone for long. She found she liked him despite herself, and his unconvincing show of suavity was more endearing than impressive.

  Gerald, like her father, loved to hunt. Whenever he was visiting the duke and duchess, which he did several times a year, he rode over to arrange a run with her father.

  Helena introduced him to her husband, and the two men exchanged a firm, assessing handshake. It was clear Adam was not going to be quick to forgive Gerald’s intrusion, and Gerald was doing his smirking best to appear impertinent. Not a good beginning to a friendship.

  “Have you been to see my father yet?” Helena asked.

  “Just on my way in to do that now. How is the old boy these days?”

  Helena couldn’t keep the tightness from her voice. “Quite well.” It was a blatant lie. Thankfully, Adam didn’t say anything to contradict her.

  “Well, I’ll be getting on in, then,” Gerald said, his eyes dancing. He added, “I’ll do my best to finagle a dinner invitation, so perhaps I’ll see you then.”

  Left in awkward silence after he swaggered away, Helena cast Adam a tentative glance from beneath her lashes, to which he gave a shrug and laughed. “We are married, after all.”

  “That is no excuse to behave disgracefully in public,” she retorted. His eyebrows jerked up at her tone, which had sounded disturbingly like her mother’s. That jolted her and, disconcerted, she turned on her heel and began to walk away.

  “Helena,” Adam called.

  She paused and turned.

  He held out the jewelry box, in which he had replaced the ear bobs. “Do you want this?”

  “Of course,” she snapped, reaching her hand out. “I’m so sorry.”

  He held it out of her grasp until she was forced to take a few steps closer. Snatching her chin in his fingers, he held her fast until she lifted her gaze to his. “I am sorry if you were embarrassed. We should make an effort to keep our disgraceful behavior private in the future. I would suggest frequent venting of these bothersome feelings, and since there’s no time like the present, it may perhaps be best if tonight we begin the, uh, disciplinary process.”

  My God, he was suggesting he come to her bed. And he was doing it in such an amusingly charming way that all she could do was stare. Her heart lodged firmly in her throat, preventing any speech. Her brain became crowded with memories of his touch, of his body, of what they had done, and her flesh began to prickle.

  The corner of his mouth curled in the most rougish manner and his thumb brushed her cheek casually before he released her and offered his arm. “Now, don’t be angry with me,” he prodded. “I’ve just returned home and a quarrel so soon after my arrival would be downright unwelcoming.”

  Of all the incredible things he had said in this short period, this was the one that stuck with her the longest. She kept recalling it as the day wore into evening, going over his exact words and marveling that he had, indeed, referred to Rathford Manor as his home.

  She wondered if it had just been an oversight, or if he had truly meant it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gerald Hunt did stay for dinner. By then his devilish mien was slipping enough that Helena was able to relax and enjoy his companionship. He flirted outrageously with her, which she feared might anger Adam. But her husband tolerated the flagrant compliments and fawning attention paid her, perhaps sensing how harmless the chubby bachelor was.

  The topic of hunting dominated the conversation and Adam’s remaining reserve for their guest was swept away. By the time Helena left the three men to their afterdinner indulgences, they were all hotly debating the glories of the traditional fox hunt.

  Sighing, she made her way upstairs. With herself as the only woman at the table, she might as well retire. Not to mention that she was as anxious to go to her bedroom to await Adam as a person could be.

  As soon as she was in her room, she dismissed the girl she was training as her maid and sat alone at her dressing table. Surveying herself critically in the mirror, she noted her hair had improved since she’d been tending it more closely. Her eyes sparkled back at her, holding all the secrets of a woman in love—

  She paused, sliding over that last thought again.

  In love?

  Was she in love with Adam?

  The answer came readily and with a calm sense of self-assurance she would have never anticipated. Of course she loved him. She loved, and suddenly the beauty of that filled her with a flood of happiness.

  She stared back at herself, noticing how her eyes were bright with the secret knowledge. Their brilliant color reminded her of what Adam had said, about how they changed color according to her mood.

  When she had arrived in her room this afternoon, she had tried on the ear bobs several times. She had a sudden urge to see them again. She fetched the box out of the wardrobe and brought it back to the dressing table. Maybe she would wear them tonight. She had not done so for dinner because she had wanted to wear her most flattering dress, and that one was, alas, a pale peach that would have clashed hopelessly with the blue stones. But she had a delicate peignoir set that was a soft sea green and a perfect foil for the variety of blues.

  She donned the lace-trimmed nightgown and slipped on a set of matching mules. Undoing her hair, she let it fall, brushing it out in long strokes until it gleamed. Then she opened the box slowly and reached for the ear bobs.

  They were gone.

  She frowned, blinking in confusion. She had put them away this afternoon. Thinking of every possibility, she searched her dressing table, got down on her hands and knees and examined the floor, turned her wardrobe inside out, all to no avail.

  Panic set in and she wondered if someone could have stolen them. That made no sense, however, since she owned far more valuable pieces that were still in her jewel box. An awful thought occurred to her. What if Adam asked to see her in them? It would seem as if she had cared nothing for his thoughtfulness if she admitted she had misplaced them. This was intolerable, since the complete opposite was true.

  The sound of the latch on the door brought her quickly to her feet. A moment later, Adam entered. He stood for a moment, framed in the doorway. Helena rose.

  His eyes narrowed. His mouth curled and he shut the door.

  Adam opened his eyes the following morning to find himself still in Helena’s bed. His immediate reaction was to reach for her. He found the place beside him empty. Lifting his head, he surveyed the roo
m. Empty. He let his head fall back.

  His body felt drained. Last night he had made love to his wife, just as he had dreamed of doing since the morning he had left her. He hadn’t realized how much he had anticipated holding her in his arms again, sampling her particular blend of strength and fragility that made him feel protective and proud all at once. He could have loved her all night, except he hadn’t wanted to push her too far. It still amazed him that she not only tolerated his plebian touch, but seemed to enjoy it.

  Now he was fully awake, and fully aroused, and wondering where the devil his lover had gone to. It was about time Helena was initiated into the pleasures of making love in the daylight, he was thinking.

  No sounds told him she was close by, so eventually he rose and resolutely put the idea from his mind. As he dressed, however, his body kept reacting to random snippets of memory from the previous night, and he was in a sorry state all over again. His mood wasn’t dampened, however, and it was with a jaunty smile that he sauntered into the dining room less than three-quarters of an hour later.

  Helena was there, as he’d hoped she’d be. She looked radiant. When he had seen her yesterday, he had been struck with how she had continued to blossom while he was gone. Her figure was beginning to fill out, her cheeks flushed prettily and the spirit in her eyes made them sparkle at him.

  Those eyes had inspired the impulsive purchase of the ear bobs he had presented her with. He still hadn’t seen them on her, he recollected. He’d ask her to model them for him the next time they were alone.

  Which was something his nimble mind was already trying to maneuver as he took his seat. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good morning.” Her gaze skittered away from his. He grinned, knowing the reason for her discomfort. Last night, they had shared no small degree of intimacies. By the look of her today, she was experiencing a pinking of embarrassment at facing him. He wished he could take her in his arms and murmur reassurances in her ear.

  The presence of his father-in-law checked that impulse. Choosing a safe topic, Adam took up the conversation begun last night after Helena had retired. Gerald, himself, and Rathford, all avid huntsmen, were planning to go out on a hunt. Adam planned to use Cain, to the ridicule of the other men. He had a guess that despite the dog’s wretched blood-lines, his uncanny intelligence would make him an excellent tracker. Rathford scoffed at the boast, insisting that a dog’s nose was in its breeding. Of course, Adam took exception to the snobbish attitude. He felt a kinship with the mongrel, being of no particular pedigree himself, and took it as a cause of honor to redeem the lowly born in a contest with the aristocratic snobs.

  “Think you’ll be riding today?” Lord Rathford asked with a twinkle in his eye. “It may be you could use the practice.”

  Adam grinned good-naturedly at the goading comment. “I can always do with a turn in the woods. Learn the lay of the land, so to speak.”

  “Take that worthless mongrel out with you, too, and see what you can teach him.”

  “Father!” Helena exclaimed, shocked at his rudeness.

  Adam caught her eye and winked, signaling the competition between them was a friendly one. “You’ve offended Helena with your disparaging remarks about Cain. I’m afraid she’s grown rather fond of us mongrels.”

  Their gazes held. In those few moments, time stood still and every flaming moment of the previous night came back to him, before she grabbed a tureen that had been set on the table and offered it to him. “Kippers?” she inquired, her eyes as innocent as a child’s. He hiked his eyebrows at her, impressed that she could look so guileless when he knew damned well her thoughts had reflected his.

  She, however, knew the persuasive power of his legendary appetite. And he loved kippers. He took the covered bowl and doled some out on his plate. Another dish followed. He peered inside. It was creamed beef. He ladled out a generous portion onto a few pieces of toast. Breakfast was a feast at Rathford Manor. Come to think of it, every meal was, and he enjoyed it fully.

  Something caught his eye as he spread the sauce. Taking up his fork, he gingerly probed the suspicious mass, which appeared to be…an ear bob? One of the ones he had given Helena yesterday. It lay right now on his plate, covered in cream sauce.

  Hooking it in a fork tine, he lifted it off his plate. “Helena?”

  She looked up. “What is that?” Looking closer, her face registered shock when she recognized the object. “What…it can’t be. They are in my room.”

  “Apparently not. Unless there are three of them instead of two.” Taking his napkin, he wiped it clean and handed it to her. “Did you lose it?”

  She stared at the piece of jewelry in her hand. “I don’t understand. I put it in the box…yesterday.”

  So far, he thought the incident only slightly intriguing. He supposed the explanation would be that the thing had been loosely fastened and slipped off somehow when Helena had passed him the dish. But he saw now that she wasn’t wearing the other one. It seemed rather a reach to think she’d lost both of them so early in the day. Besides, she insisted they hadn’t left her room.

  And then there was that little hitch in her voice. That was what really got his hackles up.

  Lord Rathford interrupted. “Jewelry in the dishes?” He chuckled. “What’s gotten into Maddie?”

  Adam forced his voice to remain light. “Perhaps she’s run out of spices.”

  “The devil you say,” Rathford grumbled, and went back to his eggs with a shake of his head.

  Adam glanced back at Helena. She stared at the piece in her hand. “How did it get in the food, Adam? And where is the other?”

  Snatching up the tureen, she fished through the kippers, then went to the salver that kept the scrambled eggs warm. She froze for a moment and then drew out the mate.

  “Someone’s idea of a joke,” he offered, taking it up to inspect it.

  The look on Helena’s face was stricken. “This is not funny,” she said.

  “I agree. But someone’s sense of humor may be—”

  “No.” She set her jaw and gave a quick shake of her head. “It is cruel. Whoever did this didn’t mean to amuse.”

  It sounded so far-fetched, to go through so much trouble just to annoy her, or him. “Forget it,” he said, dropping it back into her hand. “As long as you’ve got them back, don’t give whoever did this the satisfaction of allowing it to disturb you.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  He wished she wouldn’t look so worried. It was a prank, albeit a bad one.

  “What say I go along with you,” Rathford said loudly.

  Startled, Adam turned toward him. “Pardon?”

  “On that ride. It may be these old bones might need some practice. Don’t want you getting an edge.”

  “Oh. Yes.” He had forgotten about the ride. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like going. There was something troubling Helena, something deeper than a joke gone sour. Her father, though sober so far this morning, was oblivious to the tension.

  Rathford waved his fork imperiously. “Finish up, then, pup. Eat your fill and let’s get going.” Glancing conspiratorially at his daughter, he winked and added, “That is, if you’ve finished fishing my daughter’s jewelry out of the beef—a peculiar game, child, and one that could cost a man a tooth if he wasn’t looking closely at his plate.”

  Helena paled as her father chuckled and attacked the rest of his breakfast with gusto. Adam felt for her, but he was certain Rathford had no idea of the effect of his words.

  Come to think of it, he wasn’t at all certain himself why it upset her so.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I know what you did.” Helena squared off against Kimberly as soon as the servant closed the door to her bed-chamber. “How dare you meddle in my belongings?”

  The older woman held nothing back as she swung around to face her mistress. Her mannish body brooked no nonsense, nor did the arrogant set of her face. Her frizzled red hair stuck out willy-nilly from a limp mobcap and
her small eyes gleamed with challenge. “I’m sure I’m not knowin’ what yer talkin’ about.”

  “I’m not interested in a battle with you, Kimberly. I don’t need to be convinced of your guilt, I already am. It was a stupid trick and I will not tolerate you violating my privacy.”

  Helena was rather surprised at herself. After years of disrespect from this servant, it took a few pieces of inexpensive jewelry to get her to declare her emancipation. But the ear bobs were a gift. From Adam.

  And with the thoughtful gesture, he had given her something more. Attention, notice. For her. How odd that it would mean so much to her. She’d never lacked for attention. In fact, she’d drowned in it. Always she’d been attended to, critiqued, instructed by her mother. She’d been complimented and fawned upon by hopeful, and ultimately thwarted, suitors, and had endured jealous glares from female rivals and their mamas. But this small notice, that the color of her eyes changed according to her mood, was more meaningful, more fortifying than all that combined.

  The servant’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t take any ear bobs. I didn’t know anything about ’em.”

  “I am fully aware you make it your business to know everything about everyone in this house. Information is your weapon. You’ve used it to control me for years.”

  “Information,” Kimberly echoed. “It is indeed a valuable thing, eh? I’m wondering what yer husband would do with…certain…information.”

  “You evil old creature,” Helena exclaimed before she could stop herself.

  Being reminded of her old sin had the power to stall Helena’s show of fearlessness. However, she willed herself not to back down. “I do not want you in my bedroom ever again. If I find out you’ve disobeyed this order, or if I even suspect it, you will be dismissed.”

  The defiance in Kimberly’s eyes communicated her conviction that Helena would not dare. Helena herself didn’t know if she would. She wanted to believe in herself, but her fledgling courage didn’t come from herself, but from Adam. Knowing love, feeling it alive and pulsing and brilliant in her heart for this man with his easy smile and unassuming manner, gave her something she had not ever possessed on her own.