Love and Marriage Page 7

  She should follow her own advice and simply go to bed, she chastised herself. She was certainly accomplishing nothing by sitting in this chair and brooding like some overanxious wife.

  It was absurd.

  Oddly, however, she could not seem to summon energy to make the push to rise from the chair and return to her room. Instead she remained curled in the chair, drifting toward a light doze.

  It was nearly half an hour later when the sound of a male voice loudly singing a naughty ditty startled her awake.

  Rising from her chair Addy attempted to clear her foggy mind. Not an easy task when it seemed that some strange man had intruded into her home and was determined to rouse the entire household with his scandalous song.

  Debating whether to hide or make the attempt to scurry to her chambers and lock the door, Addy was startled nearly out of her skin when the door to the library crashed open and a large male form staggered into the room.

  A scream rose to her lips, but before it could shatter the sudden silence, Addy froze in disbelief.

  The intruder was Adam.

  Or at least it appeared to be Adam.

  With a wide gaze she studied the dark hair that was astonishingly ruffled and cravat that had been pulled loose to hang about his neck. Even more shocking, a wide grin split his countenance, giving him an air of boyish devilment.

  Stepping forward Addy gave a slow shake of her head. “Adam?”

  It seemed to take a moment for his gaze to focus upon her slender form.

  “Addy? What the devil are you doing up?”

  Although his words were deliberately concise, Addy did not miss the faint slur.

  “I was concerned when you did not come home,” she said with a frown.

  “But I did come home. Unless I have managed to stumble into the wrong address.” He glanced briefly about the book-lined room. “No, this looks very much like my library.”

  Wondering if he had taken a damaging blow to the head, Addy regarded him warily.

  “It is very late.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.” She paused for a moment. “Do you feel well?”

  His grin abruptly widened. “Never better. It is a lovely evening, is it not?”

  Addy was struck by a new suspicion at his peculiar, giddy manner.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  His brow furrowed as if it were a difficult task to ponder her question.

  “I believe I did have a little brandy at the club,” he at last confessed. “Very fine brandy, if I recall.”

  “I would say that it was more than a little.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Not at all certain how to react to the unexpected sight of Adam cast to the wind, Addy cleared her throat.

  “Is something troubling you, Adam?”

  He blinked in befuddled surprise. “What would make you ask?”

  “I have never known you to become bosky. Indeed, you have always claimed that a true gentleman keeps his wits about him at all times.”

  “I am not bosky,” he denied, only to ruin his claim when he gave a loud hiccup. “Just a trifle foxed. Besides, you were the one to bemoan my rigid refusal to indulge myself in the vast array of entertainments that London offers. I am simply following your advice.”

  Addy stiffened at his accusation. “I see.”

  “Now, I came in here for something . . . ah, brandy.”

  His gaze swept across the room as if unable to recall where the sideboard was located and Addy’s frown deepened.

  “Are you sure you are in need of more?”

  He lifted one broad shoulder. “Why not?”

  “You seem to have had quite enough.”

  His smile became mocking as he returned his gaze to her troubled countenance.

  “I thought you admired gentlemen of excess, Addy.”

  She ignored his barb and attempted to stir a measure of his usually indomitable common sense.

  “You are going to be very ill tomorrow.”

  “That is tomorrow. Tonight I desire more brandy.”

  He took a step forward only to sway in an alarming fashion. With a swift motion Addy rushed toward him, managing to keep him upright by placing both hands upon his chest.

  “Careful.”

  “I believe the floor is moving,” he said in surprised tones, gazing down at her upturned face. “Rather peculiar, do you not think?”

  “You really should go to bed, Adam,” she pleaded softly.

  A silence descended as the gray eyes darkened to smoke. A new, tingling electricity filled the air.

  “I do not suppose you intend to join me there?”

  Addy’s breath caught in her throat as she realized just how close she was to the large, harshly male form.

  “Adam.”

  His lips twisted as he reached out to fold his arms about her waist. With a small jerk he had molded her firmly against him.

  “Is it shocking that I should desire my wife at my side?”

  A flare of panic raced through Addy at the smoldering heat she could sense in his taut body.

  Always before, Adam had kept his passions sternly controlled. When he came to her it was with a cool control that made her feel his presence was more necessity than pleasure.

  Tonight, however, there was nothing cool or controlled about the hands that were beginning to run a restless path over the curve of her back and down to her hips. A sharp shiver raced through her as her heart began to pound at a hectic pace.

  “You do not know what you are saying.”

  “Ah, I know all too well,” he muttered, lowering his head to rub his cheek against her own. A bolt of heat shot through Addy as the stubble of his beard rasped over her soft skin and his breath teased her ear. “Do you know that you always smell of lilacs?”

  Dazed by the jumbled sensations that wracked her body Addy could barely concentrate upon his husky words. Dear heavens, she had never realized how disturbing the touch of his strong male hands could be. Or noticed how the scent of his warm skin could send a tingle down her spine.

  “It is from the soap I use,” she ridiculously muttered.

  “Mmm ... I like it,” he whispered, moving to lightly nip the lobe of her ear. At the same moment his hands lifted to begin removing the pins from her hair in an impatient fashion.

  Wondering how she could feel as if she were drowning when she was standing in the center of the library, Addy clutched at the lapels of his coat. Something seemed to be stirring deep within her. Something that was a mixture of pleasure, excitement, and a building need.

  She closed her eyes as his seeking lips moved from her ear to the tender arch of her neck.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded in a choked voice.

  “I wish to see your hair about your shoulders.” His fingers plunged into the heavy curls now freed from their tidy bun. “Such beautiful hair. Gypsy hair.”

  Giving a faint tug on her curls he arched her head backward to offer him greater access to her throat. The world halted as his lips stroked the frantic pulse just above her collarbone.

  Adam gave a faint groan of satisfaction as she instinctively curved closer to the searing heat of his body.

  “Adam,” she whispered, struggling desperately to summon a shred of sense among the spiraling sensations.

  “Yes?” he murmured, nibbling his way over her collarbone and down to the curve of her breast.

  Addy’s knees nearly buckled, scandalous images of being laid upon the carpet and allowing his large form to cover her flickering through her mind.

  How would it feel to have those restless fingers stroking her bare skin? Or to feel the hungry lips caressing her with a building urgency that would stoke the flames smoldering within her to a white-hot fire?

  With her breath coming in soft pants she made a last bid for sanity.

  “Do you wish me to call for your valet?”

  “Gads, no!” Abruptly he lifted his head to gaze down at her with a fierce need. The eyes she ha
d once thought impossibly cold now glittered with a searing heat. “What I wish is to have you kiss me.”

  “Adam, I am not sure . . .”

  “Just one kiss, Addy,” he pleaded in husky tones. “One kiss that has nothing to do with duty or wifely obligation. One kiss that you give freely.”

  She should say no.

  Not only was Adam clearly not in his right mind, but she was obviously consumed with some sort of fever. What other explanation could there be for the flood of shivering pleasure that was turning her bones to melted butter?

  But even as the voice of caution whispered in the back of her mind, her lips were parting in silent invitation.

  Tonight, for whatever reason, she wanted his kisses. No, needed his kisses, she acknowledged as her stomach knotted with a sharp ache of desire.

  Closely watching her features soften with capitulation Adam gave a rumbling sound deep in his throat. Then moving his hands to gently frame her face, he captured her lips in an ardent, seeking kiss.

  Accustomed to discreet, deliberate kisses Addy was unprepared for the reckless yearning in his demanding pressure.

  Her head spun as he plundered the softness of her mouth, murmuring words of encouragement as her lips parted further to allow him access to the moist temptation within.

  Addy was lost in a dazzling world of building desire. She did not care if Adam were in his right mind or not. She simply wished to be swept along the torrential currents that promised sweet satisfaction.

  She felt Adam’s hands abruptly drop to her shoulders. Then lifting his head he regarded her with dazed eyes.

  Bewildered at the sudden halt to his bewitching caresses Addy regarded him in confusion. He seemed as if he desired to speak, but even as his mouth opened he slowly swayed sideways. He groaned, then before she could even move he had toppled to the carpet.

  With wide eyes Addy regarded her husband lying sound asleep at her feet.

  * * *

  Someone was pounding upon his head.

  Adam groaned and tried to shift from the merciless demon. It did no good, however. The pounding continued and now a red-hot pain had been jolted to life behind his eyes. He groaned again, slowly becoming aware that the pounding was not actually in his head, but rather coming from the closed door.

  He also became aware that he was lying upon his bed without a stitch of clothing beneath the light blanket.

  He lifted a weak hand to press against his throbbing head.

  The devil take that wretched vicar, he silently seethed. As soon as he was capable of dragging himself from his bed he was going to throttle the devious man.

  Unable to bear any more pounding, Adam at last wrenched open his heavy eyes and glared at the door.

  “Good God, Dobson, stop that infernal banging,” he commanded in exasperation.

  The pounding blessedly ceased, but as the door swung open Adam realized that it was not his valet intruding into his much needed rest, but his wife.

  “Good morning, Adam,” she said softly, moving forward with a glass of some brownish liquid in her hand.

  His breath caught as he watched her graceful movement and the manner in which her raven curls shimmered in the late morning sunlight.

  Suddenly the memories of the night before crashed through his aching mind.

  He remembered returning home and discovering Addy in the library. He remembered the smell of sweet lilacs. The feel of her satin hair. The taste of her lips. The feel of her trembling with desire in his arms.

  Desire.

  And then all had gone black.

  A sharp, startling flare of disappointment raced through him.

  For the first time in all the months that they had been married Addy had not grown rigid at his touch.

  Instead she had been warm and inviting and as deliciously passionate as he could possibly desire.

  Heaven had been in his grasp and he had ruined it by tumbling onto his face like a common greenhorn.

  His hands clenched in frustration before the sharp pang in his head forced him to relax his coiled muscles.

  Very well. He had failed to take advantage of his opportunity last evening, but that did not mean there would be no further chances.

  He could make Addy desire him.

  He could not give up hope.

  Feeling his body stir at the mere memory of her heated kisses, Adam carefully shifted the blanket as she came to a halt beside the bed.

  “How do you feel?” she demanded.

  “Ghastly.”

  “I feared you might.” She held out the glass. “I brought you something that will help.”

  Pushing himself to a seated position he took the offered glass and cautiously sniffed the strange mixture.

  “What is it?”

  “My own recipe. I use to make it for my father.”

  Knowing how often Lord Morrow must have woken with a thick head, Adam readily lifted the glass and drained the contents down his dry throat.

  “Dear heavens,” he gasped, shuddering as the awful stuff hit his stomach. “You could have warned me.”

  Her expression remained composed, but there was a noticeable hint of amusement in the dark eyes.

  Evil wench.

  “It is not so bad.”

  “It is horrid. What did you put in there?”

  “Nothing more than a few harmless herbs.”

  “Weeds, more likely,” he grumbled.

  She arched a raven brow. “I did not force you to drink yourself senseless.”

  He once again imagined his hands about the Vicar’s plump neck.

  “No, I can safely lay that upon Humbly’s doorstep.”

  “Are you saying that a vicar encouraged you to become drunk?”

  Abruptly realizing they were treading upon dangerous ground he shifted to place the empty glass upon a side table. Not only could he not explain Humbly’s ridiculous notion to play the role of the rake, but he was also wise enough to realize that Addy was bound to be skittish about her fervent response to his kisses.

  He could sense her unease in the manner she so rigidly avoided glancing at his bare chest and the determined distance she kept from his wide bed.

  He did not want to blunder and send her scurrying back behind her icy barriers.

  Not when he was so close.

  “To be honest I recall very little of what occurred last night,” he said in an offhand tone. “One minute Humbly and I were finishing our meal at the club and the next I was awakening with the feeling I had gone several losing rounds with Gentleman Jackson.”

  The faintest hint of color touched her cheeks. “You do not recall coming home?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “It is nothing,” she assured him hastily.

  “I hope I did not wake you?”

  “No, I was still up.”

  He forced a hint of surprise to his countenance. “It must have been very late.”

  “Yes.”

  “You could not sleep?” he found himself probing. He couldn’t deny a bit of curiosity as to why she had been in the library at such an hour.

  “I was concerned when you did not return,” she reluctantly confessed. “Mrs. Hall was convinced you had been overtaken by footpads.”

  Adam felt an odd twinge in the region of his heart.

  She had been concerned?

  About him?

  Amazing.

  “Forgive me,” he said softly. “It did not occur to me that you would be worried.”

  She stiffened slightly, as if she realized that she had given more away than she had intended.

  “I am your wife. Of course I was concerned.”

  He smiled wryly. “Yes.”

  Their gazes tangled for a silent moment, as if each were testing the subtle but undeniable shift in their relationship. Then without warning their privacy was interrupted as Humbly surged into the room with a bright smile.

  “Good morning. Forgive me for intruding, but I wished to see how Adam was this morning.”<
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  Adam flashed the Vicar a sour glance. “I feel as if I have been kicked in the head,” he retorted in pointed tones.

  The devilish man merely chuckled at his words.

  “Ah well, it was a rousing good time.”

  “I must trust your word as to that,” he muttered.

  “I had no notion you could sing so well, my son.”

  Adam winced at the foggy memory of leading the entire club in several off-key songs.

  “Adam was singing?” Addy demanded in surprise.

  “Yes, indeed, although his choice in songs was rather naughty,” Humbly teased.

  Adam’s gaze narrowed. He was supposed to be playing the role of a rake, not a buffoon.

  “I do not believe Addy is interested in the details of our evening, Humbly.”

  “Ah. Quite right. Not at all the thing for female ears.”

  Addy stabbed him with a curious gaze. “I did not know you could sing.”

  “It is not a talent I indulge in often,” he assured her.

  Clearly having enjoyed the brief ribbing, Humbly gave a faint nod of his head.

  “Well, I shall leave you to recover from your heavy head. Do not forget you promised Mr. Bates that we would attend his wife’s soiree tonight.”

  “Gads.” Adam sighed as the older gentleman slipped from the room.

  He had nearly forgotten his encounter with Bates as he was stumbling from the club.

  “Mr. Bates?” Addy demanded with a faint frown.

  “An old school chum of mine. I believe I did tell him that we would make an appearance. I thought you would be pleased.”

  “Yes, of course,” she murmured, although she did not appear delighted by the notion.

  Adam shifted uncomfortably. His head still ached, his stomach rolled with an unpleasant queasiness and he desperately desired to clean his teeth.

  More than anything he was in dire need of a chamber pot.

  “If you do not mind, my dear, I believe I shall take a hot bath. Perhaps that will clear my foggy thoughts.”

  Addy gave a ready nod, although her faintly troubled expression lingered. It was evident his unusual behavior was keeping her off guard.

  A promising sign, he tried to reassure himself.

  “I shall call for Dobson.”

  With swift steps she had left the room, leaving behind the scent of lilacs in the air. Adam breathed in the sweet aroma. He hoped it was only the first of countless occasions when the tantalizing scent filled his chamber.