Frovtunes’ Kiss (44 page)

A laugh escaped her, albeit a despondent one. Their future still held what it had held all along.
Don't leave
. She wanted to shout it, wanted to insist at the top of her lungs that he let honor and obligation be damned. But hadn't she done enough damage thus far with words?

If her one sincere act had been a physical rendering, then…

Framing his face in her hands, she leaned and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that held back nothing, not the love bursting from her heart, or the passion and lust she felt for him, or the burning length of her tongue.

His approval rumbled through her, beginning at her lips and settling with a thunderous resonance in her soul.

From somewhere beyond the rapture of their joined mouths, a cough reminded her they were by no means alone. Graham pulled back, grinning, not looking embarrassed in the least. And though her hand whisked instinctively to her lips to wipe away the telltale moisture, she realized, much to her shock, she wasn't embarrassed, either. Mr. Parker might think what he would. And the bishop…well…bother the bishop.

“Shall we go home?” Graham held out his hand.

“I'm ready,” she said and slipped her hand into his.

“Parker,” he said as they stood, “we'll leave the remainder of the investigation to you and your associates.”

“If you ever seek employment, my lord, rest assured we've a place for you down on Bow Street.”

“I'll bear it in mind.” At the open window Graham paused, one foot balanced on the ankle-high sill. “Benedict, I thought you might be wondering why I sent you the cobra pendant.”

The question raised only a halfhearted shrug.

“It's cursed,” Graham told him with a smile. “Not that I believed in curses, mind you, but I enjoyed the irony of bestowing such a token on the man who'd nearly destroyed my career and my life. Seeing how things have turned out for both you and Oliphant, I believe I'll revise my belief system to allow for the occasional hex.” His gaze caressed Moira's face. “And for that matter, the occasional enchantment.”

Hand in hand, they stepped through the window. Despite everything he'd said, Moira wondered…had their kiss conjured enchantment enough to change the future…to make him stay?

       24      

H
e held her in his arms on the ride home, thankful she let him and relieved with each revolution of the coach's wheels that she didn't pull away with one of her stoic, quelling looks. She tried to speak once, but he pressed a finger to her lips, only to reiterate his demand for silence with a kiss. He was afraid to do more, afraid to shatter this delicate peace between them.

All he wanted was to reach home and discover what she had meant by that mouth-numbing kiss in the bishop's drawing room. Good God, what else
could
it mean? But no, he wouldn't assume, wouldn't build up an illusion only to have it dashed. He had reached a decision. He only hoped Moira would agree.

They entered the house through the garden terrace. All lay still in the Gold Saloon and the ladies' parlor. Not a sound issued from the morning room. But if he had entertained notions of finding some quiet corner in which to be alone with Moira, he found himself sadly mistaken. As they reached the main portion of the ground floor, an explosion of voices bounded down the corridor at them.

Trading startled looks with Moira, he sprinted toward the dining room. Just before he reached it, Freddy stumbled out through the archway, head bowed and nose cradled between his hands. Blood trickled through his fingers.

“You harridan!” he shouted. Unaware of his audience, Freddy came to a wobbling halt at the foot of the stairs and groaned. “I think you bloody broke it.”

“What's going on here?” Graham demanded at the same moment Moira cried, “Is Michael all right?”

“I'll give you
broken
, Frederick Foster.” Her fist raised, curls bouncing, Letty stormed out of the dining room after him. Nose still in hand, Freddy scooted onto the steps and crouched, cowering behind the banister.

“Hit me again and I'll have you arrested, I will.”

Letty spotted Graham and swung about as if to strike him, too. “He's been
drinking
again, Monteith. The little
sneak.”

“I have not. You knocked the glass from my hand before I had the chance.” Freddy peered out at Graham from between the carved newels. “And then she hit me.”

“Oh, you make me so
angry!”
Letty waved her fist in the air.

Graham grabbed her wrist. “That's not the way to prevent him from drinking, Letty.”

“Then why don't we simply drive him back to that
horrid
place, if he's so determined to
destroy
himself.”

“Will you please hush?” Freddy darted a look up the stairs. “Mother will hear you.”

“Perhaps it's time she found out what a
miserable
little coward her son is.”

Despite Letty's sharp words, Graham heard the quiver in her voice, saw the tears gathering in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms. “That's enough now, Letty. It's all right. You stopped him this time. Perhaps next time he'll stop himself.”

“Oh, Graham, did I
actually
break his nose?”

Despite the drama, the hysterics, and the salty tears ruining his coat, a warm sensation filled his chest. Letty had finally called him Graham again. He patted her hair. “Don't you worry, we Fosters are more resilient than that.”

“No…no, it
is
broken.” Freddy glared from over his fingertips. “I'm sure of it.”

“Let's have a look.” Moira knelt below him on the bottom step. “Take your hands away.”

“It hurts.”

“Yes, I know it hurts, dear.” She pried Freddy's hands free with the gentle determination Graham had discovered to be uniquely Moira's. She secured them in one hand—well, Freddy let her, really—while pulling a handkerchief from her reticule with the other. She dabbed carefully at the wounded appendage. As blood seeped through the ivory cotton, she examined her patient. “Let's see, now…it looks fairly straight. Hmm. Did you always have that bump?”

Freddy's eyes ballooned. “What bump?”

“Only joking.” She grinned. “That perfect Foster nose has prevailed.”

“Thank
goodness
.” Letty poked her face out from Graham's collar. She heaved a breath of relief, the sound drowned out by a sudden squalling from upstairs.

“That's Michael.” Moira pushed to her feet.

“Don't go.” Graham moved to her side and barred her way with an outstretched arm. “Letty, would you please tend to him?”

Moira looked puzzled. Letty positively balked. “After such a long nap, he's sure to be
sopping
and goodness knows what else.”

“I'll just get him, then.” Moira stepped around Freddy and started up. Determined not to let her slip away, Graham took the stairs two at a time until he caught up to her.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“I'll get the baby.” Using the banister for leverage, Freddy hauled himself to his feet, his free hand pressing Moira's handkerchief to his nose. “You two lovebirds can have your little talk.”

Graham didn't know whether to thank his brother or swipe the back of his insolent head. The next thing he knew, though, Letty was pounding up the stairs in pursuit of her twin.

“You will
not
tend to that child, Frederick Foster. Not in your condition.”

“I told you I hadn't so much as a sip…”

Graham held Moira's hand to his chest and released a sigh. “Pure bedlam, this family. I wouldn't blame you if you demanded an immediate return to Monteith Hall.”

Her fingers spread over his shirtfront, her palm pressing warmly against him and filling him with a hope so sharp it knifed his insides.

“When I do go,” she said, “I'm taking them all with me, if they'll come. But I won't leave until you do.” She stepped closer, infinitely close, until her dazzling dark eyes filled his world. “I'll stay till then.”

“And what if I don't leave?” There, he'd said it. Damn his pride, he'd finally said it. The effort left his lungs aching, his heart knocking.

She took an interminable time in answering, leaving him dangling between fates like a felon on the gibbet. Finally, she said very quietly, “That is a question I cannot answer for you. I will not.”

No, she was right. He was still hedging, still playing it safe. Ah, the past wounds had left deep scars, sure enough. But just as sure, those wounds would scar his future if he didn't find his courage. The whole of it, and right now.

He sucked a draft of air into his lungs and plunged.

“I'm staying in England, Moira. I'm not returning to Egypt.”

He hadn't counted on his announcement raising such a frown, but then one never knew with Moira. “What about your oath? What about that man who threatened to kill you if you didn't help him hide Egypt's treasures?”

Blazing hell, was she going to toss all that honor and obligation nonsense in his face again? So be it. He smoothed his hand through the ebony tresses he'd brought to ruin earlier.

“Hakim al Faruq will have to understand that I have responsibilities here that preclude my oath to him. My family needs me. I abandoned them once. I won't do it again.” A little ridge formed above her nose. Her hand started to come away from his chest, but he held it firm. “I'm right to stay, aren't I?”

Before she could answer, Shaun's voice called from the landing above. “Did I just hear you correctly? You're not going back to Egypt?”

“That's right, my friend.”

Shaun descended the stairs slowly. “But Hakim…”

“Will have to travel all the way to England if he still wishes to slit my throat.” He grinned when Moira flinched. “Don't worry, darling, the man's terrified of water.”

Shaun stopped on the step above. “Won't be the same there without you.”

“Then don't return.”

Shaun shrugged. “Might as well. Not much for me here in England, really.”

“Then there's something you can do for me.” Graham reached into his coat pocket, waiting until he felt Isis scramble into his hand. “Will you take her back for me? I'm afraid she won't last the winter here.”

His friend cringed. “Ask me anything. Anything but that.”

“But she'll most likely die here. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?”

“Don't I?” His features contorted. His gaze darted from Isis to Graham to Moira and back to Isis, a perusal concluded with a murmured curse. “God will get you for this, Foster. You secure that crate good and tight.”

“Will do.”

“What should I tell Hakim?”

“Tell him…” Graham met Moira's expectant gaze and nearly drowned in an upsurge of emotion. “Tell him I stayed for a woman. He'll understand.”

Shaun nodded and started back up the stairs.

“Don't stay away too long, Mr. Paddington,” Moira called to him. “There's more here for you than you guess. I shall miss you dreadfully. But I'm not the only one. Do come back. Come back for Letty.”

The tips of his ears flaming, Shaun stared down at her a long moment before continuing up the stairs.

“And what of me?” Graham asked when they were alone. He glanced down at Isis, now climbing from his cuff to his shoulder. “Does someone care for me more than I dare hope? And does that person understand even a fraction of how much I love her?”

“Do you, indeed?” she replied brusquely, with a note of indifference that sent his confidence tumbling. “A moment ago you told me you were staying for your family. Now you claim you're staying for me. Which is it, Mr. Foster? Which of us finally tamed the blackguard?”

“Now see here, you little tease.” He sank to the steps and drew her down beside him. Their shoulders and thighs pressed, their faces so close the warmth of her cheek imbued his. “It's both. I'm staying for you
and
my family, but we both know deuced well, you alone tamed me. Tamed and inflamed me.”