The Lady In Question (34 page)

“I have nothing to confess save the fact that I shall love you forever.” His arms tightened around her.

“No matter what might happen from this moment forth, come what may, I shall always love you.”

“And I shall always love you,” she said with a fervency that welled up from somewhere deep within her.

His lips found hers in the dark and he kissed her with an intensity that quite took her breath away. As if this were a kiss to seal a promise. Or last forever.

At last he pulled his mouth from hers. “We should probably be on our way. I daresay our guide is getting somewhat impatient at this point.”

She twisted in his arms for a last look over the city. The stars overhead shone down on the city lights below.

“I don’t care, Tony, whether it’s an illusion or not, I think, at this moment if no other, it’s all quite, quite perfect. The city spread before us, this grand adventure and life itself. And I further think, while perfection may be an illusion or simply fleeting, we shall live quite happily for the rest of our days.”

“And I think you’re absolutely right, my love. At this moment, if no other, all is indeed perfect and just the beginning. It does strike me, though” — he nuzzled the side of her neck — “that the way your bedchamber matches your eyes is rather perfect as well.”

“Are you certain?”

“No. In truth, I cannot remember the exact color of the room.” He shook his head in feigned regret.

“I’d have to compare the colors again to make sure. And it shall drive me mad until I am able to do so.”

“Well, that’s that, then.” She tried not to laugh with the delicious anticipation bubbling up inside her. Apparently spending much of the day in her bed was not enough for him, which worked exceedingly well, as it was not enough for her either. “I should hate to see you mad.”

“Mad with desire,” he murmured against her neck.

She shivered with delight. “Pity we can’t really fly. It shall take us forever to descend all those stairs.”

“Then we should begin at once. Come on.”

Tony grabbed her hand and they carefully made their way back to the door. It was fully dark now, but the stars cast enough light to guide them.

“So, my lord, how will you explain to the gentleman waiting to take us back down that I am no longer suffering from the effects of my dreadful camel accident?”

“Why, my dear Lady Wilmont, I shall be completely honest with him.” A grin sounded in Tony’s voice. “I shall tell him it was a miracle.”

Hours later, Tony lay with Delia curled against him. They were both in a state of weary, content satisfaction he had not suspected existed.

Tony had never especially believed in miracles or fate or magic, and he’d never considered love at all. But tonight, with Delia lying in his arms, he didn’t doubt that something beyond rational explanation had led them to each other. They were together as the result of a series of unique and somewhat far-fetched incidents that, in truth, never should have happened at all. Fate, magic and miracles seemed no less probable than love, and love was very, very real.

“I believe the potential of this type of activity cannot be overestimated,” Delia murmured, her eyes closed, already more than half asleep. Between the camel, the climb to the top of the cathedral and the other
activity
they had partaken of today, she was exhausted. Tony chuckled. “I daresay the potential is limitless.”

She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “It strikes me that something else I have never done before, my lord, is to fall asleep in the arms of the man I love.”

“Then we shall end the day with yet another grand adventure.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead.

“Perfect,” she murmured, and closed her eyes, snuggling closer.

He pulled her tighter against him and stroked her hair until her even breathing told him she was at last asleep.

Bloody hell, how had it all gotten so blasted convoluted? How could he ever tell her the truth about his masquerade now? He had toyed with the idea tonight at the cathedral. It was indeed an appropriate place for confession and asking forgiveness. She had given him the perfect opportunity, although two hundred and eighty feet above the ground was perhaps not the most prudent place to disclose something like this. Who knew how she might react? Oh, certainly she was not the type of woman to fling herself off the building, but she might well try to push him over the side. And who could blame her?

Worse, any admission on his part would not end with him. One truth would lead to another. His deception could not be revealed without further explanations about Wilmont. Even if a woman is not in love, she still does not want to know her courtship was nothing but part of an ill-advised government plan. It might well destroy her. He might well destroy her.

Tony had lived in the shadows wrought by the nature of his work much of his adult life and hadn’t realized it until her. Until Delia brought him into the light.

Mac was right: Tony could not tell her the truth. And he would do whatever he had to make certain she never found out any of it. To make certain she was never hurt.

It would be easy to get rid of the other servants, but the butler was a more difficult problem. Delia would never accept Gordon simply leaving her employ. He was too old to find another position. Why, she’d probably insist on pensioning him off and, in some way, taking care of him for the rest of his life. Unless…

There was only one thing to do. Only one way out. He could see no other solution. Gordon would have to die.

Chapter 19

“And you have come to me for advice?” The Duke of Roxborough studied Tony curiously. “Or are you looking for approval?”

“Both, I think, Your Grace.” Tony chose his words with care.

The two men sat in the impressive library at Effington House, each with a glass of brandy in hand. Tony had indeed come seeking the older man’s counsel. He had nowhere else to turn. “There is no one else who knows everything about the situation, save for Lord Kimberly, of course.”

“And as the lady in question is a member of my family, he is not as qualified as I to determine her fate. Is that it, St. Stephens?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“Coming to me may well be the wisest move you’ve made since this debacle began.” The duke blew a long breath. “Kimberly has made me aware of your feelings for her, of course.”

“Of course.” Tony should have known Kimberly would have made certain Delia’s uncle was kept informed of any new development.

“Has she agreed to marry you?” The duke’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“Actually, sir, I have agreed to marry her.”

His Grace’s brow rose.

“It’s a long story.”

“And I should prefer not to hear it.” The duke shook his head. “Effington women.” He said something under his breath Tony could not make out and thought it was probably best. “Do you know what you’re getting into with her? With this whole blasted family?”

“Not entirely, sir, but you yourself warned me of the challenge inherent in involvement with an Effington female.”

“And are you up to that challenge?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Tony met the duke’s gaze directly. “But I shall do my best.”

“That’s all we can ask for, then.” The duke paused for a moment. “You’ve never truly been part of a family, St. Stephens. It’s one of the things that has made you so good at the work you do. Nor, to my knowledge, and I do make it a point to know everything about those who work for me, have you ever been seriously involved with a woman. You have always been as solitary as Wilmont. Indeed, more so. He, at least, made his existence known in society — in a disreputable manner, mind you, but known nonetheless. You have never had a life outside your work.” Roxborough studied him carefully. “Are you certain about this? About her?”

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” Tony raised a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I love her, sir.”

“God help us all.” The duke threw back the rest of his brandy, got to his feet, strode across the room and promptly refilled his glass. “Then do it now.”

“Do it —” Tony stood.

“Marry her. Now. As soon as possible.”

“But she’s not officially out of mourning, sir.”

Roxborough snorted in disdain. “If she’s like the rest of the women in this family, a little thing like disregarding the prescribed period of mourning won’t stop her. Unless, of course…” His brow furrowed.

“Did she love Wilmont?”

Tony paused. “No, sir.”

“Does she love you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for a special license and by this time tomorrow you will be wed.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“Do you think it’s wise to be her betrothed and her butler at the same time? Even you cannot be in two places at once. Where is she now, by the way?”

“I drove her to call on her family before I came here. I thought it best for her to be out of the house if I was not there.”

“Very good, but you cannot keep this up. It will all come to a head and then there will be the devil to pay.” He narrowed his eyes. “I needn’t remind you, regardless of what happens, she will never know of my part in any of this, do I?”

“No, sir.”

The duke thought for a moment. “We’ll have the wedding here.”

“Here?” Tony stared in surprise. “Won’t Lady Wilmont think that rather odd?”

“Everything about this is rather odd, my boy. But I’m her
uncle
and head of the family. Tell her I’m an old friend of your father’s or your brother’s. I did meet one of them on occasion, I believe.” The duke pulled his brows together and paced the floor. “She already knows we’re acquainted and you must be held in some favor, as you were a guest at Effington Hall. Tell her…you came to me for fatherly advice. Yes, that’s good. And I encouraged an immediate marriage, even offering to have the wedding here, to…to…”

“What, sir?”

“To…get her life back in order. That’s it. Put that whole business with Wilmont behind her and start her life over. With you. That sounds reasonable. Yes, I like it. Besides, having the ceremony here will give a stamp of family approval to it and minimize any scandal.”

“But shouldn’t I speak to her father? Ask for her hand?”

“Nobody bothered with that for her first marriage, I can’t see that it’s necessary for the second. You can talk to him at the wedding, if you wish. Indeed, I have already spoken favorably of you to her father. And I daresay, knowing my brother, he’ll be pleased to see her finally settled with the right man.” His Grace met Tony’s gaze firmly. “And in spite of the way this has become so horribly mucked up, I do think you‘ re the right man, St. Stephens.”

“I appreciate that, sir, but isn’t this rather too fast?”

The duke’s brow rose. “Changing your mind, are you?”

“Not at all,” Tony said staunchly.

Indeed, making Delia his wife as soon as possible was not merely a solution, but a heartfelt desire. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. He simply wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to marry her so soon. Tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours from this very minute. Why, a scant month ago he hadn’t considered marrying at all. Now he stood at the very edge of that yawning abyss prepared to fling himself into it.

“Good. It’s been my experience that the faster events progress, the less time people have to think about silly questions like why. Of course, there may be speculation that she is with child. There isn’t any chance of that, is there?”

“I wouldn’t think so, sir.” Of course, there was, but the timing would be a matter of days and scarcely worth noting.

“Indeed.” The duke huffed skeptically. “No, in this case the answer to why is simply love. As ridiculous as it sounds, no one questions love.” His Grace chuckled ruefully. “It’s a powerful weapon.

“Now then, my wife will arrange everything regarding the wedding. She’ll be in a frenzy and she’ll make life hell for anyone who dares to cross her path between today and tomorrow, but she’ll love every moment of it. The duchess is excellent at things like this.”

“Pardon me for saying so, sir, but should we make an event out of it? Given the circumstances, I mean. Perhaps it would be better to just marry without any particular fuss.”

“You obviously know nothing about women, St. Stephens. A wedding requires a certain amount of fuss for females. It’s part of their nature. Some sort of primeval ritual. But it won’t be an event per se. Simply whatever family members are in town and can be located, although I suppose that is a fair number at this time of year.”

“I’m not sure an immediate marriage solves anything, sir.”

“It solves everything, and quite nicely too. You’ll take her away for a long wedding trip. To avoid the scandal, of course. By the time you return, all will have been forgotten and forgiven. I hear Greece is nice at this time of year. My brother Harry and his wife are traveling there next month to dig about at some ruin or other. Or even better, take her to Italy. For some reason, women love Italy. Probably that rascal Byron’s influence.”

“She would like to travel,” Tony said thoughtfully.

“Of course she would. And while you’re gone, you’ll receive a letter informing you that her dear friend the butler” — he rolled his gaze toward the ceiling — “has passed on. You’ll be right there to comfort her and take her mind off his” — he cleared his throat —
“death.
It’s hard to mourn when you’

re blissfully happy. And I suspect you can make her such.”

“That is my intent.”

“In addition, should she ever learn the truth — and with each passing day this ruse continues, that is indeed a possibility — she will be wed to you. Bound to you for the rest of her days. In truth, trapped.”

“You make it sound so appealing,” Tony murmured.

“What I’m trying to say is marriage keeps her by your side. With luck she will never know the truth, but if she does, she will have to forgive you at some point. Certainly in this case it could take years, but eventually she’ll have no choice.”