Adored In Autumn

by Jess Michaels

  “Lost,” Asher repeated. “You mean your mother, what we talked about last night at supper.”

  Celia nodded slowly. “That, but there is more to the story.”

  “But it’s too long to tell now. Perhaps someday,” Rosalinde said.

  Asher looked at them closely. He found himself wanting to know their story. “I look forward to that day,” he said. “And I appreciate the kindness you have offered to me and to Felicity.”

  Before either woman could answer, Felicity stepped through the door to the breakfast room. When she saw them all gathered, she came to a halt, watching as Asher rose to greet her. A bright blush darkened her cheeks as she darted her gaze away from him, bringing to mind the same blush that had covered her cheeks and chest when he brought her to orgasm in his bed the night before.

  “Good morning,” she said, “I didn’t expect such a full room.”

  “It seems everyone is up early today, for Gray and John are in the office looking over something.” Celia laughed as she came to kiss Felicity’s cheek. “Only Stenfax and Elise haven’t joined us.”

  Rosalinde smiled. “But they are newlyweds.”

  Felicity’s blush darkened further and Asher stepped toward her. “I should likely join the gentlemen in their discussion, I suppose.”

  She swallowed hard and reached for him, surprising him by laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I—would you like to take a turn around the garden with me first? I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  He arched a brow, for he hadn’t expected her to reach out to him first. But there was a wary expression in her eyes as she jerked her hand away from him like she hadn’t meant to touch him.

  And he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what she wanted to discuss.

  “Certainly,” he said. “Let us go now, shall we?”

  She smiled at the other two women before she stepped from the room without waiting for him. As Asher turned back to say farewell to the sisters, he found them standing together.

  Patience, Celia mouthed as Rosalinde smiled in encouragement toward him.

  He nodded and followed Felicity out. Only he wasn’t sure patience was going to help him. Not if she was about to reject him.

  Felicity could hardly breathe as she walked through the garden paths with Asher at her side. The morning sun was only just beginning to warm the cool autumn air, and she pulled her shawl around her as she shivered.

  “Do you need something?” he asked. “My jacket?”

  She turned to face him. The very idea of stripping that jacket off of him and wrapping it, along with his heat and his scent, around herself was tempting, indeed. It put her to mind of the night before, when he had covered her body with his. When he had drawn such pleasure from her.

  “It might not be wise,” she said. “I’m not really cold. Just…nervous.”

  He let out a long breath. “Are you all right?”

  She bit her lip gently and considered the question. Then she found herself answering honestly. “I…don’t know, Asher.”

  He shifted, like he wanted to move toward her but held back. “Do you regret last night?”

  She jolted at the question and at the tense look on his face. He was truly worried he’d gone too far, truly worried she wished he hadn’t.

  She moved toward him since he wouldn’t. Slowly, she lifted a hand and brushed it over his cheek, smoothing her fingers across the harsh line of his jaw and the curve of his bottom lip. He let out a low sound of pleasure at the touch.

  “In a long list of regrets in my life, Asher, last night is not even on the first page,” she whispered. “Nor the second. Nor any page at all.”

  Relief filled his face and made him look younger, more innocent. He smiled. “Good. Because I don’t regret it, either.”

  She felt heat fill her cheeks. “But you also didn’t…benefit from it.”

  He arched a brow. “Didn’t I? I assure you, watching you come undone is a benefit I cannot fully describe. I would very much like to do that again.”

  Her lips parted as excitement filled her. She hadn’t felt this way in so very long. Like she was alive again, after burying herself deep.

  She backed away at that realization. It was too frightening. She couldn’t trust him or any man with her heart. Her body, yes. Everything else she had to protect.

  “We should talk about the book,” she said.

  He nodded, and his smile said he didn’t feel put off by her backing away. “Yes, we should. The money trails are fascinating.”

  “But they aren’t leading anywhere,” Felicity said with a frustrated groan. “Because tracking who was blackmailed by that book years ago doesn’t tell us anything about the man who has it now. It’s him we need to investigate.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Asher asked.

  “If we could find him, perhaps we might be able to trick him.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Or just take him. He’s under suspicion of murder—Dane would have every right to simply arrest him.”

  “And risk not getting to the book?” she asked, fear rising in her.

  “You think he won’t have it with him?”

  “If you had a pile of blunt, would you carry it around with you, falling out of your pockets so anyone could see or take it?”

  He smiled gently. “I’m not certain I’ve ever had a pile of blunt.”

  She folded her arms, trying to fight the urge to laugh at his teasing when this moment should be serious. Focused. “You know what I mean, Asher.

  “I do, I do,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender. “You’re saying the man would be a fool to keep the book with him.”

  “And he’d be a fool not to have some kind of backup plan if he were caught or arrested. That book could be his chance at freedom if it truly does contain secrets that are pertinent to the Crown.”

  “You think he’d leverage it to be free,” he said.

  She nodded. “If he’s not a complete idiot, he would. Now, perhaps the guard or the War Department will have no interest in my secret. Or perhaps they would arrest me and off I’d be transported. Or…or hanged.”

  She lifted a hand to her throat and thought of that night not so long ago when Erasmus had choked her. It was a terrible way to die. She did not want to repeat it at the hands of her king and country.

  His face had gone pale and all attempts to tease her seemed to be over at that statement. “I would never let them happen.”

  “You might not be able to stop it. Our best chance is to get to him before anyone else does, before he breaks that blasted code and convince him to give it to us so we can remove any information about my past.”

  “The names are the only thing on the page we obtained that aren’t coded,” he mused. “We would be able to find you even if we couldn’t read it. But how do you think we’re going to convince this man, this murderer, to just hand over such a valuable thing.”

  “We aren’t. You are.”

  He stared at her a moment, clearly struggling to understand. “Me?”

  She clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. “I’ve been thinking about it since your arrival. Everyone else in this house is too tied to our family to be useful. But you…you are not.”

  His face went still. “Am I not?”

  “Well, you are, but in the best way. You were the son of a servant, and one who left our employ. If you presented yourself as disgruntled, vengeful, you might be believed.”

  She had expected him to show interest in the idea, perhaps even excitement that she’d struck on a way to trick the man who held the guillotine over their heads.

  Instead, Asher frowned deeply. “You think I’d be the best candidate because I’m not one of you.”

  “Yes!” she said with a smile, trying to encourage him to think about it.

  But instead he went stiff, his shoulders going back and his jaw clenching. “Excuse me,” he said, then turned on his heel and walked away.

  She stared af
ter him, utterly confused. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but from his expression it was clear she had. And that broke her heart in ways she didn’t want to examine too closely.

  But she knew she couldn’t leave things like this, so she followed him and hoped she could make up for whatever she had just done.

  Asher clenched his fists at his sides and tried to make his breathing return to a normal rate. He had no right to be upset over what Felicity had proposed. After all, it made a good deal of sense.

  But hearing her say out loud that he was the best person to act as an agent against the family because he didn’t belong…because he was an outsider…that hurt more than he cared to admit. Because he’d always known it. He’d fought it and fought against his father’s admonishments that he remember it.

  Now it slapped him in the face.

  “Asher.”

  He stiffened at Felicity’s soft voice behind him and turned to look at her. She was utterly beautiful, the golden light of autumn playing off her features, making her honey hair glint. But she was a goddess and he was a mortal. Whatever he touched or took was stolen.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said.

  He ducked his head, sorry that she had been able to guess his feelings. They were foolish to have at all. “You didn’t,” he lied.

  She folded her arms. “Please, Asher, you are speaking to the queen of hiding emotions. I know them when I see them, so don’t sport with me. I hurt you and I want to make amends.”

  He set his jaw. There had never been any hiding with her. That was still true. “You didn’t hurt me,” he insisted. “I just…I forgot something and your statement a moment ago reminded me. I did this to myself and it is not your responsibility to repair it.”

  “What did you forget?” she asked, moving toward him a long step.

  He swallowed hard, then he said it. “I don’t belong here.”

  Her lips parted and her face crumpled with pain of her own as she stared at him in wild disbelief. “What are you talking about, Asher? You have always belonged here.”

  He shook his head as he looked at her. “You cannot be so naïve, Felicity. You know what I am.”

  “What are you?” she snapped. “Tell me what you think you are.”

  “I’m a servant’s son,” he said, his voice elevating at last in his frustration. “Born of nothing.”

  “Not of nothing,” she insisted. “I have known many men in my life. My husband, Elise’s first husband, they were both seen as men of elevated stature and they were worth nothing. Less than nothing. And I have seen servants behave with valor and decency and the worthiness of kings. Including you, including your father. If I implied anything less, then or now, it was never my intention.”

  “A fine sentiment,” he said. “And appreciated. But seeing the value of a person who is your lesser is not the same as seeing them as equal. I am not equal. I was allowed to pretend sometimes, but at the end of the day, I always went back to the servant quarters. I always had to finish my duties before I had my fun. And I always knew that I was not equal. I never forgot it. Even when I…even when I tried to.”

  Her hands began to shake and her lower lip trembled slightly before she gasped out, “Is that why you left?”

  He thought of that night when he left. He thought of finally giving in to the feelings he had for her, the desires that seemed so out of control. And he thought of his father’s furious face a few hours later, when he had confronted Asher with what he knew. With what they would both lose. It was like a bubble had been burst or his wings stripped away.

  Back to earth he’d come, crashing all the way to the ground.

  He lifted his chin. “You and I both know it never would have worked, Felicity.”

  She let out a low sound in her throat that was filled with pain. “And so you just didn’t try. I wasn’t worth trying for.”

  He moved toward her in a few long steps and caught her arms, drawing her against him into an embrace. He tilted her face up, hating how tears sparkled in her eyes. Tears he’d put there.

  “It wasn’t you who wasn’t worth trying for,” he insisted.

  Then he ducked his head and kissed her. Kissed her because even though little had changed when it came to his worthiness over the years, little had also changed in how much he wanted her. Kissed her because he needed to show her what she meant to him since it was impossible to tell her. He kissed her because he loved her. And he had never stopped loving her for one moment in all the years they’d been apart. Even when he wanted to. Even when he tried.

  She sank into his embrace, her hands fisting against his chest, her mouth opening and inviting him in to become a part of her. He kissed her and kissed her until there was nothing else in this world but that kiss.

  And then the world intruded. There was the sound of a throat being cleared from behind them and both of them froze. She opened her eyes to stare up at him and he released her gently before they both turned.

  John Dane stood on the garden path behind them. He was kindly looking at a tree beside the path, infinitely interested in its changing foliage rather than the incredibly inappropriate scene playing out before him.

  Felicity’s cheeks darkened to bright red and she sent Asher one final, terrified look before she gasped out some incoherent sound and then rushed toward the house.

  Proving, perhaps without meaning to, that every thought he had about not belonging was true. He sighed heavily before he turned and faced Dane, glad that it hadn’t been her brothers that had found him like that.

  “Walk with me,” Dane said, his tone and expression unreadable. “It looks like you could use the exercise and so could I.”

  Asher tried to think of a way to deny his new friend, but he couldn’t. So he bent his head, fell into step beside him and girded his strength for the very uncomfortable conversation he knew was about to follow.

  A conversation that would only end the way all conversations on this topic ended. With disappointment.

  Chapter Nine

  Asher was shocked that he and Dane walked for fifteen minutes in silence. Through the gardens, away down the path, up the lane that took them away from the house and still Dane said nothing about what he’d seen.

  Finally, Asher could take it no more. “I understand the situation, you know.”

  John gave him a look from the corner of his eye. “The situation? Which one? We’re dealing with quite a few at present.”

  “What you saw,” Asher said in frustration. “I know what you saw in the garden. You needn’t pretend that you didn’t.”

  John shrugged. “It seems to me that Felicity is a grown woman who has been through enough to know her own desires. You have certainly proven yourself capable of making decisions for yourself. What I saw has nothing to do with me.”

  “Her brothers would see it differently,” Asher muttered, trying to decide who would punch him first. Gray, probably. Stenfax would likely do it harder.

  “Would they?” John asked.

  Asher stopped walking and spun on him. “Of course they would. Damn it, man, I know I don’t deserve her.”

  “Ah,” John said, nodding slowly. “I see. You don’t deserve her. A funny word, deserve.”

  “Doesn’t seem very bloody funny to me,” Asher spat.

  “Why don’t you deserve her?” John pressed. “Is there some horrible act you committed in your past that I’m not aware of?”

  “No,” Asher said. “It’s how I was born.”

  To his surprise, John tilted his head back and began to laugh. A full, hearty belly laugh, like he really found this situation funny when it was anything but. Suddenly, Asher was no longer thinking about who would punch him, but whether or not he could get away with punching Dane.

  “Is that a joke to you?” he snapped.

  “No.” John stopped laughing at last. “Not in the way you think, at least. You see, Asher, I was born a worthless nothing. I worked as a chimney sweep when I was barely old enough to walk. I stole
to fill my belly for years before I was plucked off the street and placed into the service of the king. And then I lied to Celia for weeks about my identity. Yet somehow, despite it all, she determined I deserved her.”

  Asher blinked at the unexpected information. He’d known about John’s time as a spy, of course. And he’d heard some mention of him pretending to be another man. But he had never suspected anything about John’s birth. He’d assumed he’d been a merchant’s son or some lesser son of a lower noble family.

  “You?” he said.

  Dane smiled. “No one is exactly who or what they seem. We can never know the heart of a person unless and until they choose to share it.”

  Asher shook his head. “Well, just because we choose to share who we are with another person doesn’t mean it will work. Or that it should.”

  John shrugged. “If you determine you aren’t willing to fight for love or passion or whatever it is between you and Felicity, then it won’t work. A self-fulfilling prophecy.”

  Asher was silent, letting that sink in. Letting it burn through his veins like acid.

  “But that’s not my place to say,” John said after a moment. “You’re the only one who can determine what is right to do.”

  Asher bent his head. “Well, right isn’t the easiest thing to decide.”

  “No, there are many shades to right,” John agreed.

  Asher sighed. There was no use talking about this anymore. He knew what John pretended not to understand. That it could never work out, no matter what he wanted or shared.

  “Why don’t we talk about the book, the search?” he suggested.

  John looked at him a long moment, then stepped back into their walk, forcing Asher to do the same. “A fine idea. What do you have on your mind?”

  “Felicity suggested a plan to me,” he said. “One I balked at, even though I know it’s a good one. Only it hinges on us finding Roger Beckford.”

  John shifted, and Asher actually felt him putting on the mantle of spy. It was funny how the man’s shoulders went back, how he went on alert. Old habits, Asher supposed, not lost even though he didn’t do that kind of work anymore. Or at least not regularly.