“That, I understand. My father abandoned my mother in the same situation, as you know. I still can’t forgive him for that.”
Robert stroked the silken skin on the underside of her wrist. “Sir Mortimer is an acquaintance of Sir Francis Walsingham. The pair of them agreed I should be freed of my debt to Sir Mortimer if I spied on Lord Brooke. I was to find proof that he has conspired against Queen Elizabeth.”
Chloe gazed up at him, her eyes searching his face. Her own expression was solemn. “That was a generous offer on my father’s part. But then again, he was throwing you into a situation which might have cost you your life. I can’t forgive him for that, either. I assume you haven’t yet succeeded in incriminating Brooke? I always suspected him to be a vile serpent.”
Robert hung his head. “I failed dismally. He wasn’t supposed to know who I was or that I had any association with you, but I ruined everything last night.”
She squeezed his hand. “You came to my rescue. I was planning to knee him in his privy parts if he took advantage, however, so I could have saved you the trouble.”
He stared at her and, a strangled laugh escaped him. “You really are the most extraordinary person, Chloe. And from experience, I can guarantee that would have done the trick.”
“Oh, Robert, I’m so sorry about that.”
“Nonsense—I deserved it. I’ve treated you abominably. I should never have left you there with the odious Brooke last night. A man should not walk away from a fight.”
“But there was no fight left in Lord Brooke. He was taken into the palace to lick his wounds, and Sir Francis saw us home.”
“Walsingham?” Robert’s mind raced. “Walsingham was there?” So, the man already knew what a hog’s dinner he’d made of things last night. Once he’d finished apologizing to Chloe, he’d better seek the spymaster out and apologize to him, too. Although he hoped the gift of Brooke’s courier, the man with the torn ear, might appease him.
“Aye, he was, but not at the masque itself. Or if he was, he remained well-hidden. But let’s not talk of that now. We have but little time.”
There was a glint in her eyes that made him wonder how she hoped to spend that time. A few tempting ideas stampeded through his mind, but first, he needed to be sure of his ground.
“I have further apologies to make.” He gave her a wry smile. “You won’t have forgotten how I searched you and tipped you upside down when I thought you’d stolen my locket.”
“I haven’t forgotten. But I have forgiven.”
“Your forgiveness is gratefully received. But there was also my behavior when I believed your affection was for sale.” The words stuck in Robert’s throat. How could he ever have thought such a thing? Or had it been wishful thinking on his part, because he’d wanted her so badly that night?
“I’ve forgiven you that as well. It was an honest mistake, and one that amuses me now.”
He gave her a hard stare, but the twinkle in her eyes remained undimmed. Was she trying to flirt with him? He hoped so, though he didn’t deserve it.
“You seem in a very forgiving mood, this morn. So, having forgiven me for thinking you a whore, what of my belief that you were one of the Catholic conspirators?”
Her smile thinned. “When did you think that?”
He sent up a silent prayer. He must confess all, and hope to be shriven. It would be a weighty test of her affections, but he couldn’t have her find it out from anyone else. Walsingham had an uncanny way of knowing exactly what his spies had been up to.
He caressed her hand again and found he was unable to look her in the eyes. “I thought you’d stolen my dispatch. Do you remember that meal I sent you at the White Hart?”
She nodded.
“When you awoke in the night and stopped that weasel-faced villain Harris from shooting me, did you not wonder how you’d come to fall asleep so swiftly that you were still dressed?”
He could feel her eyes on him. He felt so guilty about it now, yet he still felt a frisson of desire at the memory. What a reprobate he was!
“You put something in my ale!” Her eyes widened.
“Aye—I’m ashamed to admit it. I drugged you so I could search you and your belongings for my dispatch.”
The only sound in the room was her rapid breathing. She was disgusted with him, and rightly so. Mayhap he should have held his tongue—he might have ruined any chance of her caring for him still.
“You were doing what you believed necessary at the time. My behavior must have seemed… odd to you. But what, exactly, do you mean when you say you searched me?”
“Fie, Chloe, that’s not important now. Isn’t it enough that I rendered you helpless, then manhandled you? I won’t have you think me better than I am.”
“Because they say love is blind, do they not?” Her voice was seductively low.
He couldn’t let her think of love, couldn’t allow that emotion to beat in his own breast if they couldn’t have one another. It would be a torture worthy of hell.
“If you think you’re in love with me, I should make you stop.” He kissed her hand.
“Presumptuous knave. Did I say I was?” Her eyes sparkled at him.
“You implied it.” He kept her hand to his lips and gazed at her, his brows raised.
“And do you care for me?” She blinked uncertainly.
How could he deny it? “Of course, I do. But if we cannot be wed—”
“Tush. Love will find a way. I have a very determined mother, and I believe I take after her somewhat. It is you I want, Robert—not coin, not land, not consequence. These things would be meaningless without you.”
His heart flamed. She was right. He shouldn’t always believe the worst, expect the worst. He should trust in Fate. Sometimes, it worked in one’s favor.
She sent him a provocative smile. “About this ‘searching’ affair. You must tell me exactly what you did, so I know how much to punish you.”
Punishment? The way she was looking at him now, any punishment from her would be an exquisite pleasure.
“It is better demonstrated than reported,” he answered, entering into the spirit of the game.
She withdrew her hand from his and lay on the bed. His pulses leaped.
“So, here I am—insensible. I suppose I should close my eyes. Show me what you did.”
She looked so tempting lying there, like a feast for a starving man. He wrestled with his last shreds of common sense.
“We should not do this. ’Tis sin enough for me to be in your chamber with you, let alone… interfering with your person.”
“Was it that bad?” She sounded fascinated.
“It was, alas.” But only bad in a certain sense. He remembered the moment with relish.
“I insist you show me exactly what you did. And have no fear—I’ve left strict instructions that I am not be disturbed before eleven of the clock.”
“What hour is it now?”
“I’ve absolutely no idea. Let’s assume we’re running out of time, and you must hurry.” Chloe folded her hands across her stomach and lay still, waiting for his demonstration.
He was being given some kind of test, he was sure, and his future happiness depended on him passing it. But what did Chloe want? What did she expect?
Women were a constant puzzle, and this one more so than most. But he was prepared to give her all the time she wanted. If he was to be permitted to touch her again, nothing in the world would force him to hurry. Leaning over, he reached behind her head to remove her hairpins.
“Why did you do that?”
“They got caught up in your bodice when I tried to remove it. I won’t make you suffer that indignity this time.”
Besides which, he wanted to savor the chestnut silk of her hair. He smoothed a long curl between his fingers.
“Did you do that back then?”
“Nay. I’m doing it now because I want to. Tell me if you have any objection.” He brought the lock of hair to his lips and kissed it, inhaling
its sweet scent. It was a perfume he would never forget.
Next, he must remove her bodice. If ever a scheme was designed to test a man’s self-control, this was it. Yet, he wasn’t certain she wanted him to control himself. A delightful prospect. Sliding an arm under her waist, he lifted her into a sitting position, but she stiffened and resisted him.
“You’re not playing fair, Mistress. You were limp at the time.”
Chloe flopped in his arms, and a laugh escaped him. Her eyes flicked open, and he struggled against the urge to kiss her. It would spoil the game. Or would it?
“Not quite that limp. Now, my love, remember that this is a serious demonstration. I won’t have you deliberately jeopardizing it.”
She leaned against him as he began unlacing her bodice. Every detail of the body beneath had been etched on Robert’s memory that night. He’d never forgotten how it had felt to run his hands over her enticing curves. He also remembered the desire that had coursed through him then—it was building up now, but was intensified by the fact that the woman on the bed was awake and toying with him. He didn’t understand the game yet, nor what the rules were, but he’d make damned sure he was the winner.
The bodice was off, and Chloe was down to her shift, made from such fine linen that he could see the warm tones of her skin beneath. He ran his hands over her arms, back, and chest with a swift, sure touch, forcing himself not to linger at her breasts. Her nipples tightened as he skimmed over them, and he groaned aloud.
“This was something else I didn’t do, but I wanted to.” He laid her back, supporting her on his arm, and brushed his lips over hers, tracing the shape of them with his tongue and then increasing the pressure. When he bit softly down on her lower lip, she gasped, and his tongue darted in.
She forgot the game and kissed him back with such fervor that he was forced to pull away. He hadn’t finished his demonstration yet.
“As I said, I most definitely did not do that, even though I could have.”
“You didn’t kiss me?” She sounded breathless. “Why not?”
“I didn’t completely forget that I bore the name of gentleman.”
Her eyes opened again, and she stretched her arms behind his neck. “So, why are you doing it now?”
“To make sure you aren’t dropping off to sleep and missing any of the demonstration,” he lied. He ran a hand over one breast, unable to resist the lure of her erect nipple. He felt himself rise in response and wondered just how far he dared take this.
He wasn’t left wondering for long.
“Robert?” Chloe kissed him, then tilted her head to one side, her cheeks flushing delightfully.
“Aye, sweeting?”
“Do you desire me? Would you like to lie with me?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
There was a choking noise. Chloe sat up, worried.
“Robert? Are you all right?”
“Aye, indeed. Taken aback by your boldness, I confess. But not offended by it. Nay, indeed. And the answer is an unqualified ‘yes’. Only—I trust you don’t mean now. Not before we are wed.”
Ah, yes. She should, mayhap, have asked that question first. But she’d been caught up in the moment.
“Forgive me. I’ve interrupted you.”
She allowed herself a self-satisfied smile and lay back on the bed, thrilled at the prospect of what was to come. It took some strength not to draw Robert back down to her, to further sample the heated promise of his kiss.
She forced herself to close her eyes and become limp again, although she felt anything but relaxed. Next, Robert rolled her onto her stomach, pushed up her skirts, and trailed his hands across her buttocks and along her thighs. She shivered—such a pity she’d been insensible when he did it before. She’d never felt so excited and deliciously wicked in her entire life!
After feeling over her stockings and feet, and running a finger around inside each garter, he rolled her onto her back once more. His breathing was becoming increasingly rapid, but she could no longer feel the warmth of him. Why had he pulled back?
“Was that all?”
She heard his intake of breath.
“Nay, that was not ‘all’, as you put it. Are you certain you want to persist with this pastime? You may not like what comes next.”
“Pray, continue. I have to know everything, Robert. No more secrets—we must learn to trust each other.” And she was thoroughly enjoying herself, but she didn’t want to put too much power in his hands. Not quite yet.
“Remember, Chloe, that you asked for this.” His voice had become a low growl.
With a little wave of shock, she felt his hot fingers undoing the drawstring of her shift. Cool air caressed her breastbone as he pulled the edges of the linen aside.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re meant to be insensible,” he admonished.
“I can’t help it. I need to know exactly what I’ll be forgiving you for.” She also needed him to continue—though she hoped she gave no sign of it, her body was thrumming like a bowstring.
“The bosom is a well-known hiding place used by ladies. I didn’t search there until I’d exhausted all other possibilities.”
“So, just how did you search me there?” She ought to cease talking. She didn’t want him to answer her in words. She was enjoying the “demonstration” far too much.
“Chloe, do you have the faintest idea what this is doing to me?” His voice was hoarse.
Her eyes snapped open to see his handsome face hovering mere inches above her own. His eyes were dark and full of hunger, but his jaw was clenched. Had she pushed him too far? Made him angry?
“I can’t offer forgiveness until you’ve completed your penance.” She closed her eyes, firmed her lips… and waited.
She heard Robert sigh as he slid his hand down her breastbone into the space between her breasts. Her nipples peaked instantly, but he pulled back, leaving her bereft.
“That was all I did. So, now you know all the sins that should be laid at my door. Am I not the most despicable of men?”
She opened her eyes again. “You’re a poor judge of character and apt to distrust people, but I wouldn’t call you despicable. I hereby exonerate you of all guilt.”
He was still leaning over her, and she could feel his breath on her exposed chest. He was smiling gently, his eyes focused on her lips. She had the fish on the hook—now she must draw him in.
“So, was there anything else you didn’t do, but wanted to?”
He rolled his eyes and groaned. “Do you know what happens when you tempt a man beyond endurance?”
She shook her head. “Am I about to find out?”
“I rather think you are.”
She kept her eyes open. She didn’t want to miss any of the things his response implied. Nor was she going to be left out. When he tugged her shift down to fully expose her breasts, she reached up and rapidly unbuttoned his doublet.
“Take it off,” she demanded.
“As the lady wishes.” He shrugged out of it and cast it on the floor, then lowered his head and took one nipple in his mouth, stirring it to a frenzied ache with his tongue. Her back arched, pushing her body closer to his, and he knelt astride her, then turned his attention to her other breast.
This was more than she could have hoped for. This was sinful perfection. Desperate to feel Robert’s flesh against hers, she tugged at the waistband of his Venetians until his shirt came loose. Excited, her fingers explored the firm smoothness of his heated skin, running up his sides and across the muscular planes of his chest. Her hands dug into his powerful shoulders, then became tangled in his shirt.
“Won’t you take this off, too?”
He sat up, his chest heaving, his hands still stroking her breasts in mute appreciation.
“Nay, wench. We go too far. I want time to enjoy you, without fear of interruption.”
Without fear of interruption… merciful heaven, what was the hour? Her aunt and uncle would be back at any moment. The
y must make themselves presentable and get below before any further damage was done to her reputation.
She sat up and retied her shift. “So long as that is the only reason you stopped. It’s not because you don’t want me.”
He rested his head against hers, then kissed the exposed column of her neck.
“Chloe, I adore you. But we have to stop before any damage is done. Believe me, there’s a lot more that I would love to show you and teach you. But as I said, what I have in mind requires time and privacy—and plenty of both.”
He handed her bodice to her, then pulled his doublet back on and stood to tuck his shirt in. She could feel his heated gaze as she laced up her bodice, and as soon as she’d finished, he sat next to her and took her in his arms.
“You said you loved me—if not in so many words.” His lips brushed over her hair, then her cheek. “How do I know what you feel for me is more than a passing fancy?”
She pulled back and gazed into his intense, haunting, blue eyes. “I never thought you were afraid of risk, Sir Robert. Nor of pain. I had you down for a hot-headed hero who would do anything to win the fair damsel—was I mistaken?”
He chuckled. “I’m afraid you were not mistaken. I am that fool, but a fool who would love above anything for you to take that risk with me and become my wife. I may have little to offer at present but—”
“Hush. You know I don’t care about that—”
“No. But I might!”
Suddenly the door to her chamber opened, and two people marched into the room.
But not her aunt and uncle. One was her mother, Dela. The other was a man she’d never seen before, whose scowl seemed to flay the very flesh from her bones.
In an instant, Robert was on his feet, pushing her behind him and squaring up to the intruder. Looking past them, Chloe caught her mother’s eye. Dela’s face was suffused with smiles.
Robert’s anger was palpable. “Sir Mortimer. How dare you enter this lady’s bedchamber without knocking?”
Sir Mortimer? Chloe’s breath seemed to fly from her body, and she clung to the back of Robert’s doublet to keep from falling.
Lord of Mistrust (Trysts and Treachery Book 4) Page 19
