Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year. Кэрол Мортимер
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wife,’ he murmured and, unable to resist any longer, he swept her up and carried her to the bed.
* * *
When Dominique awoke she was alone. Sunlight filled the room and she stretched luxuriously, feeling the cool sheets against her skin. She had a new awareness of her body and she smiled, thinking it unsurprising, since Gideon had kissed every last inch of it at least twice during the night. When he had first taken her to the bed they had made love slowly and languorously, taking time to explore each other until desire swept them up and carried them to the final consummation. She had fallen asleep in his arms, only to wake at some point in the darkest hours to find they were making love again.
Dominique shivered a little at the delicious memory. She was thinking that she should get up and find her nightgown when the door opened and Gideon came in. He was fully dressed and, feeling suddenly shy, she pulled the blankets up to her chin.
‘Good morning, wife!’ He sat on the bed, smiling as he wrested the offending bedclothes from her hands to reveal her breasts. He lowered his head and kissed one rosy nub and then the other, sending little shock waves of excitement trembling through her. Reluctantly she pushed him away.
‘What is this, tired of me already?’ The warm glint in his eyes robbed his words of offence and she smiled back.
‘Never,’ she said, shyly reaching up to touch his face. ‘It is just that your sister is coming to take me shopping this morning.’
‘Ah, she will want to know what happened after we quit Grosvenor Square.’ He laughed, catching her hand and pressing a kiss into the palm before sliding off the bed. ‘Very well, I shall leave you to dress. What time is she coming? Will you break your fast with me before you go?’
‘She promised to be here by ten o’clock so, yes, we can eat together first, if I hurry.’
‘No need,’ he said, walking to the door. ‘Gwen was never one for timekeeping. Don’t expect to see her until at least eleven!’
* * *
But in this instance Gideon was proved wrong, for the clock in the hall was chiming ten when Gwen swept into the breakfast room, the skirts of her bronze-velvet walking dress billowing around her and the ostrich plumes on her matching hat bouncing quite violently.
‘No, don’t get up, my dear, finish your coffee.’ She put a hand briefly on Dominique’s shoulder, then walked around the table to kiss Gideon, who had risen to meet her. ‘Dear brother!’ She shifted her searching gaze to Dominique. ‘Well, what am I to make of your leaving my party so early last night?’
‘My wife was fatigued,’ offered Gideon, his mouth lifting with the beginnings of a smile.
‘Indeed?’ Gwen’s eyes narrowed as she looked from one to the other, then she gave a little trill of laughter. ‘Heavens, but you both look very guilty! You have no need, my dears, I do not need to quiz you, since there is such an air of happiness about you both.’
‘So you are off to town this morning.’ said Gideon, changing the subject. ‘Where do you shop?’
‘Bond Street, of course.’
‘If you have time, perhaps you would call into Irwin’s, on Oxford Street,’ he suggested. ‘He was fixing a new band on my best beaver hat and it should be ready.’
Gwen pulled a face, but Dominique said immediately, ‘Of course we can call there, Gideon. It is not too far out of our way, is it, Gwen?’
Lady Ribblestone gave an elegant shrug.
‘No-o, we can as well look in the shops there as anywhere else, I suppose. And afterwards I shall take Dominique to Grosvenor Square for a little refreshment before I send her back to you in time for dinner.’
‘Excellent.’ Dominique pushed back her chair. ‘I will fetch my pelisse.’
As Dominique walked past her husband he caught her wrist. ‘I have no objection to you spending whatever you need, my dear, as long as it includes at least one shift as outrageous as the one you wore last night.’
Gwen laughed, but Dominique’s cheeks flamed and she almost ran out of the room, dragging Gwen with her.
* * *
Gideon drove the five miles or so into town at a steady pace, his mind as much on the events of the night as the forthcoming assignation. Dominique had surprised him yesterday. He stifled a laugh. She had said she deliberately set out to lure him and, by God, she had succeeded. From the moment he had seen her in that red gown, looking so delectable, he had been unable to think of anything else. He had even forgotten to warn his sister to cease her flirtatious behaviour or risk Anthony’s wrath. Perhaps there would be time to speak to her when she brought Dominique back from her shopping trip. Dominique. He could even call her by her rightful name now. How wrong he had been to treat her like some fragile creature who would break at the slightest chill wind, when in fact she was flesh and blood, as passionate as he. All those months of restraint, of keeping his distance, of believing she was responding to him only out of duty.
He had thought that the passion they had shared on their wedding night had been a mistake, a heady mix of anger and nerves and wine. Since then he had done his duty, keeping his desires and his feelings buried deep, but it was a long time since he had thought of his wife as a burden, an inconvenience—his wife by mistake. When he had awoken this morning and found her asleep in his arms he had been overwhelmed by some deep, primitive emotion that he now recognised as a profound and all-consuming love. It had cost him something to leave her sleeping, when he had wanted to wake her and tell her of his revelation, but there would be time for that later. First he needed to meet Agnes, to look at those papers and see if they really did mean that Dominique and her mother were not penniless. He did not care a jot that his wife had no dowry, but he knew it mattered a great deal to Dominique and he valued her happiness and comfort far above his own.
He took out his watch: eleven-thirty. He was in good time. He skirted Hyde Park and entered Piccadilly from the west, knowing that Gwen and Dominique were unlikely to come so far out of their way, especially now they were collecting his hat for him from Oxford Street. As on the previous day he left Sam with the curricle and went off alone into Green Park. Several couples were strolling there, but the area of trees where he was to meet Agnes was deserted. He was beginning to wonder if something had occurred to prevent her coming when he saw her hurrying towards him, her grey cloak pulled close, despite the warmth of the late May sunshine.
‘I beg your pardon, I was delayed.’ She pulled a packet of papers from under her cloak. ‘They are all there, including the letter from Coutts’ Bank. I hope you can use them to serve the earl a bad turn. Give ’im a bloody nose from me, Gideon.’
‘I shall do my best.’ Gideon glanced at the papers. He would need to study them, but not here. ‘Thank you, for these. What do you do now?’
‘I ain’t going back to the earl, that’s for sure.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘That’s why I was delayed. I sent my things off this morning and I mean to follow them.’
‘Where do you go?’
She shook her head. ‘Best you don’t know, my dear. All I will say is that I am to catch the Holyhead mail.’
Gideon frowned. ‘That sets off from the Bull and Mouth, doesn’t it?’
‘Aye, t’other end of Piccadilly. I left the earl’s carriage waiting for me on the south side of the park. By the time they realises I ain’t coming back I shall be long gone.’
‘It is still dangerous,’ said Gideon. ‘If the earl discovers what you are about, he is bound to search the coaching inns.’ He thought quickly. ‘The next stop will be where, Islington?’
‘Aye, the Peacock.’
‘Then I’ll drive you there. You will be safer out of town.’
‘That’s very kind of you.’ She shot a glance up at him. ‘Is it for old