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Authors: Lynne Connolly

Dilemma in Yellow Silk (31 page)

BOOK: Dilemma in Yellow Silk
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A simple but pretty caraco jacket and petticoat were laid out on the bed. The jacket was in that shade of forget-me-not blue that was almost Julius’s calling card, although this was an outfit he would never wear.

The maid helped her wash and change and did Viola’s hair in a simple but effective style. Viola sat in the chair like a statue, letting the maid have her way, uncaring of the effect.

After ascertaining Viola did not want anything more, the maid bobbed a curtsey. “Refreshments will be served in the back parlor, if it please your ladyship. Or I can bring them up here. Lord Winterton has arrived, and he says if you feel up to it, could you come down.”

Julius might be able to allay some of her fears. Not at all fatigued, Viola got to her feet and followed the maid down a broad staircase to a room on the ground floor. She found herself in a sunny, spacious room with windows that opened directly on to a terrace. For the first time today she registered it was a fine day. The sun beamed down on a lovely garden that stretched as far as the Thames.

Forcing herself to smile and remember her society manners, Viola dropped a curtsey. Julius stood, and took her hand. That was when Viola realized another woman was standing near a broad sofa that faced the windows.

Her looks reminded her of someone. The dark hair and long nose gave her a moment’s thought. Until she realized she saw something very similar in the mirror each morning.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Imogen, Lady Hollinhead, may I introduce Viola, Lady Malton? Viola, this is Imogen. Your sister.”

Viola swallowed and stared at the other woman. Since Imogen was likewise staring at her, this seemed admissible, but she would have done so had it been polite or not. Sister?

Imogen recovered herself first, and smiled. “My husband is helping yours. He was a soldier and he’s your husband’s cousin, an Emperor.”

Viola nodded. “Antoninus.” She knew the name, but little else.

“We live in Cheshire, but we decided to come to London to attend to a little business. And to allow me to do some shopping, of course. But Tony raced off to Julius’s, and here we are, roped in to another of his schemes.” She did not seem perturbed, but rather, amused.

If her husband had been a soldier, perhaps Imogen could cope with this terrible worry better. Viola nodded. “I—I’m pleased to meet you. Also a little shocked. Are there any others?”

“I was shocked too. I had no idea I was anything other than Imogen Thane until recently. According to Julius, we have a brother and a half-sister, the result of the Old Pretender’s union with another woman.”

“He got around,” Viola said dryly.

Imogen sat down and glanced at the space beside her. “Won’t you sit?”

Grateful for the chance to sit while she recovered from the news, Viola took the spot. She thanked Julius when he placed a dish of tea by her side. “I didn’t know about this house.”

“No,” Julius said. “Few people do. It is my retreat. But if you wish, it can be yours for a while.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely,” was all she could think to reply. “When will we know?”

“Soon, I hope. If they are forced to continue the journey, they will send a message to us by fast rider. That will give us an idea of what is going on.” Julius sat in a chair opposite and crossed his legs. “Whatever happens, Viola, you are safe. We will not allow anyone to hurt you.”

“Do you think I care for that?” Visions of Marcus hurt, shot, or speared through with a sword kept nagging at her, pushing themselves unbidden into her mind.

Julius raised a brow.

“I apologize,” she said quickly. “I should be mindful of all you’ve done.”

Unexpectedly, support came from the lady on her left. “No, you should not.” Imogen covered her hand briefly in a gesture of comfort. “It’s perfectly natural for you to worry. But with Tony there, they are unlikely to come to much harm.”

While she admired Imogen’s trust in her husband’s prowess, Viola was not so sure. But recalling Marcus’s skill with a sword made her feel better. “He’s no mean bladesman himself.”

“He is not,” Julius agreed. “And they took every precaution. I am hoping they capture someone alive. I still have no idea who instigated this foolish attack, although I suspect the Pretender rather than the Dankworths. The Dankworths are more subtle in their attacks. This kind of brute force is not typical of the way they work these days.”

So at least one of them could think properly. Yet while what Julius said made sense, Viola could not wish for anything except the safe return of her husband. “Do you know how soon we will know?”

Julius shook his head. “Not precisely. The journey from the Heath to here will take an hour, more likely two, even in this weather. How long did the ride take you?”

“Just under an hour.” They had set off well before they reached Hampstead Heath. “The inn was packed, and we managed to switch passengers. We waited for twenty minutes before we set off, to give the coach a head start.”

The door opened to admit Val, who waved Julius back down into his seat and found one of his own. “That was a superb job,” he said, and bowed to her.

“She’s eaten up with worry,” Julius remarked.

Val laughed, the unfeeling idiot. “I honestly don’t think you have any reason. They have a coach full of weapons and abundant skill, as well as the element of surprise. While it was an honor to escort you here, I did wish I could remain and join in the fun.”

“Fun?” she almost screeched. “How can it be fun?”

“To defeat our enemies?” Val pursed his lips. “Oh, I daresay I could find something to smile about. They will not prevail, I assure you.” He was smartly dressed now, in contrast to his disheveled appearance earlier. “We should hear before dinner. I say, Viola, you will have to get used to such matters. Although, given your prosy husband, you might well go for the next fifty years without any further excitement.”

Excitement? But Viola felt honor bound to protect Marcus. “When he fought me at Domenici’s, I saw no prosiness.”

Val brightened. “And wasn’t that something? I have never known my brother provoked in such a way. Town could talk of nothing else for a week. I could almost believe we were cut from the same cloth.”

“You will drive any woman demented in a week,” she said.

“Val’s betrothed is in the unfortunate position of being expected to tame him,” Julius observed.

Val made a sound of disgust. “As if Charlotte could do anything of the kind! She is immensely forbearing, but neither of us intend to make our betrothal permanent any time soon.”

Had he found someone who would agree to a false proposal? His parents were exceedingly keen to see their wayward son settle to more suitable behavior. Perhaps Val had agreed to marry the unfortunate Charlotte merely to quiet his family for a time. Having not yet met the saint Charlotte sounded like, Viola was unable to judge. Nor, if she was to be honest, did she care at this moment. Only one person occupied her thoughts.

“May I suggest you retire for an hour or two?” Julius said gently. “You appear considerably worn by the ordeal. If you can sleep, time will pass quicker. Failing that, I would enjoy showing you my villa and gardens.”

She liked that the choice would be hers. But while such worry bowed her down, she feared she wouldn’t take pleasure from anything. “I would appreciate retiring. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Julius said. “Once I hear of the successful conclusion to this enterprise, I will take myself back to town. Feel free to treat this house as your own for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.”

He got to his feet and offered his arm, but before she left the room, Viola spoke to Val. “Indeed, I beg your pardon for not thanking you properly and appearing more grateful. I do thank you and I will be forever under an obligation to you.”

“Oh, not forever; never say that!” the incorrigible Val said. “I shall probably make my way back to town with Julius, as there is a promising young fighter I’m anxious to see at the cockpit.”

Viola shuddered at the mention of cockfighting. It was not her idea of a good evening’s entertainment. Nobly, she said nothing. After all, she owed Val a great deal, despite his brushing her obligation aside.

Upstairs, the maid helped her out of her clothes. She lay down in what was admittedly a very comfortable goose feather bed, but she was sure she would not sleep. She had agreed to come upstairs, aware she would be no company for anyone in her current state. Best to stay here and bite her nails until news came.

She had not slept much last night, and she feared tonight would be the same. Worry and unaccustomed frustration at not knowing bore on her nerves. If she closed her eyes for a moment she could at least rest them.

She awoke when the bed sank as someone sat on it.

Flinging the bedclothes aside, she hurled herself into his arms. “Marcus!”

He closed his arms around her, holding her tight. She burrowed in, hearing his chuckle, feeling it reverberate through her. She would never let him go. Ever. “Oh, Marcus, I should never have let you go!”

“What is this?” he said, drawing her away so he could gaze down at her face. “My love, you surely did not worry about me?” But he appeared pleased, for all that.

“Yes, of course I was! What happened?”

“They attacked us on the heath and we captured one.” He paused. “Well, at least Alconbury did.”

“Alconbury?” Tears forgotten, her jaw dropped open.

“He said the act was nothing he wanted to be involved with and wished to prove it to us. I think there was more to it than that, but I have no idea what that might be. One fled, and he scooped him up. The man told us nothing, but we were too eager to secure him and deliver him to Julius. In any case, he babbled in Italian, talking about the true king and other such nonsense. It seems clear he was part of the Pretender’s contingent. The Young Pretender. We now have a useful weapon,” he said with much satisfaction. “I wonder what the Old Pretender would think of his son’s activities?”

She had not considered that. “You think the old man would take it amiss?”

“I know so. He’s a wily bastard. He will use any tools he can find. That, my love, includes you. A shame I spoiled his ambitions by marrying you. But not for me.” Cupping her face, he kissed her.

He’d washed, and he’d removed his outer clothing and was now wearing a robe of a dazzling crimson color.

“What time is it?” she said when she could.

“Nearly nine. I did not wish to disturb you, though I sent a maid to sit with you and to fetch me the minute you awoke. Julius has gone, taking his prisoner to another place. Probably London, since we will have to clear up the mess from the Heath. I’m afraid we left a few bodies behind us.”

She should feel sorry, she really should, but she could not. Not when her husband was safe in her arms.

“I have something for you.” Reaching behind him, he drew out a rose and handed it to her. A yellow rose.

Viola caught her breath. “Where did you get that?”

“In the garden, here. Julius has a yellow rosebush. He gave me permission to take one. He’s going to instruct his gardeners to send a graft for us. We may plant it in the house I’m taking you to, our private residence.”

Tears misted her eyes. She brought the rose up and smelled the sweet, heady fragrance. “Thank you.”

Gently, he took the rose from her and dropped it into the bud vase by the side of the bed.

She watched him, wide-eyed. “We have the house to ourselves?”

“Except for Tony and Imogen. Val, Ivan, and Darius took off with Julius. But Tony and Imogen have decided not to return to town, but to their house in Cheshire. I prevailed upon them to defer their trip for a few days, so you may get to know your sister.” He regarded her tenderly. “How do you feel about gaining siblings?”

“I always thought there might be some. The Old Pretender was not known for celibacy, after all. Rumors of his affairs reached even us.” Even now she could hardly believe her good fortune. For she counted it so when she could regard herself as not alone in the world, as she’d feared.

She patted the pillow next to the one she’d used. “I want you, Marcus.” So happy she could express what she wanted to this wonderful man, she touched him. He was hard, his breeches not concealing how much he wanted her. But he wanted her more than physically, she realized with a surge of her spirits. He truly loved her, as she did him.

“You are not hungry?”

She laughed. “For you.”

Without further delay, he released her and undressed swiftly, while she did the same, removing her shift, which was all she had left on. She left the covers where they were, half tossed down the bed. Unashamed, she displayed herself to him.

“Where are the breeches you wore?” he said roughly, a harsh edge to his voice.

“I don’t know.” Belatedly, she recalled he had asked her to keep them.

“It matters not. We will find you another pair. You will wear them for me, will you not?”

Wonderingly, she blinked at him. “You found them exciting?”

“Immensely. I cannot explain it myself.” He threw his last garment, his shirt, aside and stood before her as blatantly naked as she was.

Sliding into bed, he took her into his arms and rolled over her, surrounding her with his heat. “Then we are to celebrate. But I insist you eat something.”

Playfully, she bit his shoulder. “I could eat you.”

He groaned. “You do not know what you’re saying, my love. Or perhaps you do.” He devoured her with a kiss, but she responded in full measure, eagerly opening her mouth for the invasion of his tongue.

Pausing to test her readiness, he guided himself to her and plunged deep, giving a deep-throated groan. “I love you, Viola. I always have, and I always will. I was merely foolish in not knowing it before.”

“I always knew it,” she said. “And I will love you for the rest of my life.”

After his first thrust, he made love to her gently, making it last a long time. They were in no hurry. They had all the time in the world now.

She dropped her head back, letting him see every change in her face, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on his. “Will I drive you mad, as your brothers suspect?”

BOOK: Dilemma in Yellow Silk
10.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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