A Husband's Wicked Ways (31 page)

He patted her hip. “Lift up, now.”

Aurelia raised herself and stepped back, adjusting her clothes, letting her skirt and petticoat fall around her. She put her hand to her hair, which was tumbling in a tangle to her shoulders. “I had better go and put myself to rights.”

Greville stood up, fastening his britches. He caught her chin between finger and tip and kissed the tip of her nose. “When I’m with you sometimes, Aurelia, I lose touch with myself.” His smile was rather puzzled.

It was one of the most beautiful compliments she had ever been paid, Aurelia thought, her blood singing in her veins. Greville had always been a spontaneous lover, it
was one of things she loved about him, but he rarely spoke spontaneously about emotions. “It’s a shared feeling,” she said softly. She unlocked the door and slipped from the room, feeling as if she couldn’t bear to disturb that moment, as if she wanted to leave it intact behind her.

But a minute later she opened the door again, reluctantly bringing domestic reality to break the spell. “Greville, there’s a note from Nell. She and Harry want us to go for dinner tonight with Alex. You will come, won’t you?”

He turned from the window to face her. “Of course. What time?”

“Eight o’clock.” She closed the door again and stood for a minute listening to the ticking of the long-case clock at the foot of the stairs. He was still wearing that surprised, disconcerted expression when he’d turned to face her when she’d opened the door. Quite unlike the colonel’s customary assurance.

Aurelia made her way upstairs to her bedchamber to repair the ravages of noontime loving in the library.

She awoke the next morning at light fingers patting her face.

“Mama…Mama…wake up.” Franny was sitting on the bed beside her, tapping her anxiously. “Mama, I need you to wake up.”

“And I am awake,” Aurelia said, coming instantly to life. “Why do you need me, love?”

“Because I want to take Lyra to Stevie’s house. He
doesn’t believe I know how to tell her what to do, so I have to show him that I do.”

Aurelia sighed and prepared for battle. “Lyra isn’t a pet, sweetie. And she’s not going to want to spend all day in the schoolroom with you and Stevie and Susannah. She needs exercise.”

“We’ll take her to the park when we go out with Miss Alison,” Franny insisted. “We go an’ play in the park. We’ll take a ball an’ Stevie can see how she runs after it when I throw it. Oh, please, Mama,
please.
”

Sweet heaven,
Aurelia thought. The last thing she wanted was a tussle with Franny first thing in the morning. However she girded her loins and sat up against the pillows.

“No, Franny, Lyra stays here with me. If you like, I’ll bring her this afternoon when I come to fetch you, and you and Stevie can play with her in Aunt Nell’s garden. But you cannot take her for the whole day.”

Franny’s lower lip wobbled. “But I want to show Stevie how she does what I say.”

“She doesn’t do what you say, Franny.”

The child spun towards the door, which had just opened. Greville stood there, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Yes, she does,” Franny insisted.

“No. Lyra only does what she knows is expected of her. If she runs after your ball or comes to heel when you call her, it’s not because
you
are telling her to do that, it’s because of her training. If you tell her to do something outside the commands she knows, then she won’t do it.”

Franny regarded him suspiciously, but also with a degree of interest. “So who told her what she should do?”

“Her trainer,” he said, coming into the room and sitting on the end of Aurelia’s bed. “A man who understands dogs. You’re not old enough yet, my child, to train a dog. And Lyra is a working dog.”

“What’s that mean? Dogs don’t work.”

“Yes, they do. They herd sheep. They guard buildings, and sometimes they guard people.”

Franny’s eyes widened. “And which does Lyra do? We don’t have any sheep.”

“Then you have your answer,” Greville said, offering Aurelia his coffee cup.

She accepted gratefully, taking a revivifying sip. “So, you see, Franny, you can’t take Lyra from her work. She wouldn’t be happy.”

“Oh.” Franny slipped off the bed. “But you will come and fetch me this afternoon, and bring her so I can show Stevie.”

“Yes, love. Now go and find Daisy. I’ll come down in a few minutes and see you off.” Aurelia reached for her daughter and kissed her. Franny hugged her and raced off.

Aurelia leaned back against her pillows and took another sip of coffee as Franny left the bedchamber. “It’s good that you don’t talk down to her,” she observed.

“She’s a bright child…somewhat challenging at times, I grant you, but she’s quick-witted.” He went to
the window and pulled back the curtains, letting in the soft sunshine of the May morning.

“Do you see anything of her father in her?”

Greville turned slowly from the window. “I’ve never been good at noticing physical resemblances between small children and their parents. I don’t see the point really. They are who they are.”

It was a flat statement, and Aurelia recognized that her question had come too close to those invisible boundaries that encircled him. She shrugged. “Maybe so, but it’s a conventional game people play as part of social intercourse. Parents like to be told their children resemble them in some way.”

“Well, never having had a child of my own, I wouldn’t appreciate the pleasure. But I did want to talk to you about Franny.”

“Oh?”

He frowned, pulling at his chin. He’d been trying to think how to broach this subject without alarming Aurelia. He wanted her to get close to Don Antonio, and he didn’t want her worrying about her child. He was certain he could protect the child, but it would be much easier to do if she was away from the scene of the intrigues in South Audley Street.

“What is it?” she said, disconcerted by his expression.

“I have been thinking that while you’re working with Vasquez, it might be better if Franny were to go somewhere else. Maybe to your friend in the country.”

She stared at him, saying quickly, “Why? Is she in danger?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t believe so. But I’d rather neither of us was distracted at this delicate stage of the operation.”

“By neither of us, you mean
me
?” she said coldly.

“I suppose I do.”

“Yes, I hardly think
you
would permit yourself to be distracted by the needs and welfare of a six-year-old.” Aurelia’s eyes were cold and angry. “I’ll not be separated from my child. I told you at the very beginning that I would not have Franny involved in any way. Her life must continue as she knows it. How on earth would I explain why I have to send her away without frightening her?”

“It would be difficult, I agree,” he said, surprised that he was hurt by her accusation that he cared little for the child, but at the same time knowing that giving the success of their mission as his concern would keep Aurelia away from the true reason for his anxiety about her daughter.

“So, are you saying that I’m not playing my part properly because I’m distracted by my child’s needs?” she demanded, her face rather pale.

“No…no, I’m not saying that at all.” He ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. “It was a suggestion intended to lessen the burden on you, that’s all. I thought it might be easier on both of you if you had only one thing to concern you. Just until these early maneuvers are accomplished.”

“I appreciate your concern,” she said in the same icy tone. “But I assure you it’s unnecessary. I’m quite capable of doing both, and as I’ve told you once before, I won’t let you down.” She pushed aside the coverlet and stood up. “I have to get dressed and see Franny on her way to Mount Street.”

“Very well. I’ll leave you then.” He turned on his heel and returned to his own chamber.

Aurelia rang the bell for Hester and sat down at the dresser, pulling a brush through her tumbled hair. She was rarely angry, and if she really thought about it, she wasn’t sure why Greville had angered her so deeply. From one viewpoint he had merely expressed concern for her well-being. But that wasn’t what lay behind his suggestion. She knew him too well to believe that. His concern was for the success of his mission. He didn’t want her maternal cares to get in the way.

Well, she’d prove to him that there was no possibility of that happening. And then she remembered. She’d just promised Franny that she would bring Lyra to Mount Street at the end of the schoolroom day, but she was engaged to ride in the park with Don Antonio at five o’clock.

“Hell and the devil,”
she exclaimed aloud just as Hester opened the door.

“Is summat the matter, mum?” the girl inquired anxiously.

“Not really,” she said, glancing over her shoulder towards the half-open door to Greville’s chamber.

She wasn’t surprised to see him standing there, leaning against the doorjamb, regarding her questioningly. Her voice had been loud enough to wake the dead.

He crooked a finger at her and she swore again, but this time to herself. “I’ll wear the striped muslin morning dress, Hester. Lay it out for me and I’ll be back in a moment.” She rose from the stool and followed Greville into his own room.

“What is it?” he asked as she drew the door shut behind her.

“I don’t know whether to laugh or scream,” she said, shaking her head in mortification. “I promised Franny I would take Lyra to Mount Street this afternoon, but I forgot I’d agreed to ride with the Spaniard at five.”

“I wondered how long it would be before you remembered.”

“
Damn you,
Greville. Are you telling me that when you heard me make that promise to Franny you remembered my engagement with the Spaniard?”

He nodded. “It’s my business to remember these details.”

“And it’s mine, too,” she said with a sigh. “And now you can crow all you like. You’ve proved your point…or rather I’ve proved it for you.”

“I have no intention of crowing,” he said mildly. “As I’ve said, you will have an escort on your ride this afternoon so Lyra’s presence won’t be necessary, particularly as it’s a very public venue at the most popular time, and you will ensure that you ride only on the tan in full view.
I will take Lyra to Mount Street and fetch Franny myself this afternoon.”

She looked at him askance. “You’d be willing to do that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s the nature of a partnership, dear girl.” Now he was smiling with just a hint of teasing amusement. “If there are conflicting needs, then if possible one partner helps out the other.”

“You are insufferable,” she declared, but she was laughing nevertheless. “You could have reminded me about the Spaniard at the time I promised Franny, so that I could have come up with something else to satisfy her, and you deliberately chose not to, just to prove the point you were about to make.”

He shook his head. “Believe that if you wish.”

She looked at him uncertainly. “Didn’t you?”

“No. To tell you the truth I didn’t make the connection until after we’d had words. Of course, I should have done so, so that was my error. I should have known what an opportunity you had given me.” He shook his head with a sorrowful air. “I must be losing my touch.”

“I’m not letting her go, Greville,” she said abruptly.

“No, you’ve made that clear.”

There seemed nothing else to say. “I’ll get dressed then.” She went to the door to her own room, pausing to say, “Thank you for the compromise, Greville.”

He bowed. “I am always the soul of compromise, ma’am.”

A
URELIA CHOSE THE MOST DASHING
of her riding habits for her ride with Don Antonio. The close-fitting jacket and skirt of dark brown, corded velvet, fastened with braided buttons, made the most of her bosom while accentuating her small waist. She wore her hair in a knot confined in a netted snood at her nape beneath a tall hat, like a shako, ornamented with an ostrich feather dyed emerald green.

She drew on her matching green kid gloves, giving herself a critical once-over in the long mirror before going downstairs to await her cicisbeo. A public ride in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour could hold no unpleasant surprises, but she was glad to see Jemmy waiting by the door, dressed in his groom’s livery. She was to have more than one escort on this jaunt apparently. Greville was taking no chances.

“The ’orses are ready an’ waitin’, m’lady,” Jemmy said.

“Good. I’ll wait for Don Antonio in the salon.” She
made her way to the drawing room and stood at the window, half-concealed behind the curtain, watching the street. Greville had already left for Mount Street with Lyra, and she felt strangely alone, even though plenty of people were in the house.

Don Antonio rode up on the dot of five, and to her relief she saw he was alone. There was no reason to be frightened of the man on this occasion. As long as she kept a cool head, acknowledged that he was the enemy, and remembered every conscious minute that she must never let down her guard, she would be quite safe. There would be someone discreetly following, someone presumably armed and ready for anything. It seemed melodramatic, but Aurelia was beginning to think that her life at present would fit well within the pages of a Gothic melodrama.

She went into the hall as the Spaniard dismounted, tethered his horse to the railing, and came up the steps to the front door. Jemmy opened it at the first knock and Aurelia went forward smiling. “Good afternoon, Don Antonio. It’s a beautiful day for a ride.”

“It is, indeed, ma’am.” He kissed her fingertips. “How enchanting you look.”

“Thank you, sir.” She smiled her little simpering smile and allowed him to usher her down to the street, where her own horse and Jemmy’s cob awaited them.

“Is your groom to accompany us?” Don Antonio looked a little put-out as Jemmy knelt to offer his palm to help Aurelia mount.

“But of course, sir. Is it not the custom in Spain for
ladies to be escorted by their own household on public outings?” Her voice was bland, her smile all innocent inquiry, even as her eyes darted up the street looking for the bodyguard. But, of course, he was nowhere to be seen. Greville’s men worked in the shadows, but he was there. Greville did not make promises he would not keep.

“It certainly is, but our social rules are rather stricter than yours,” Don Antonio said. “Or that, at least, has been my impression, Lady Falconer.”

“Maybe so. But my husband is somewhat old-fashioned. He would look askance if I rode unaccompanied with a male acquaintance without a groom.”

“I see.” Don Antonio brought his horse up beside hers. “You are perhaps a nervous rider. In such a case, I quite understand your husband’s need to provide you with trustworthy escort.”

“You have the right of it, sir,” Aurelia said with an anxious little titter. “Indeed, my husband is overly protective, I believe. But I confess I am not the most confident of riders, and I do believe the horse guesses it.”

“I shall watch your mount very carefully, ma’am. Have no fear.” He gave her his chilly smile.

He still couldn’t be certain what she was. Was she Falconer’s partner as well as his wife? But why a man as formidable as Falconer would fall for a woman who, in the Spaniard’s opinion, had little out of the ordinary to recommend her was a question beyond answering. Although men did do the strangest things when it came to love and lust. He’d known several brilliant men who’d
fallen helplessly into the toils of a woman who seemed to offer nothing more than a pleasant and undemanding personality, and a certain flair in the bedchamber.

It was not impossible that this was the case. Not impossible but highly unlikely. Either way, it mattered little. Whether she was merely lover
or
partner, or lover
and
partner, she could prove a useful tool in his fight with the
asp.

They turned into the park through the Stanhope Gate and he set himself to be charming.

Greville arrived at Mount Street with Lyra just before five, the appointed hour for the schoolroom to cease the day’s activities. Cornelia was coming downstairs as he was admitted and greeted him with surprise.

“Greville, this is unusual.”

“Aurelia had some errands to run,” he explained. “She had promised Franny that she could show off Lyra to Stevie and Susannah. So I volunteered my services.”

Cornelia laughed. “Always wise to keep promises to Franny. The consequences of failure can be painful.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Greville replied somewhat aridly.

Cornelia looked at him with an arrested expression. “Forgive me, but do I detect a note of disapproval?”

He stepped back from the brink just in time, raising his hands in disclaimer. “I have no experience with children and am in no position to have an opinion, ma’am.”

Cornelia looked as if she would have said more, but then
decided to take her own step back. She called to a hovering footman, “Will you take the dog up to the schoolroom, please, Gavin. The children are waiting for her.”

The footman looked doubtfully at the massive hound, who returned the look with calm benignity. “How should I do that, m’lady?”

Greville said something quietly, and immediately Lyra rose and padded to the stairs. The footman went after her and they disappeared into the upper reaches of the house.

“Will you come into the drawing room, Greville?” Cornelia invited, unable to disguise the slight chill remaining in her voice.

“Thank you, but I was wondering if your husband was in? There’s something I wished to discuss with him.”

“He’s in the library. I’ll take you to him.” Cornelia led the way to the back of the house, knocked briefly on the door, and put her head around. “Greville would like to speak with you, Harry. He’s come to fetch Franny.”

Harry rose from behind his desk and greeted Greville warmly. “Come in. Let me offer you a glass of claret. It’s unusual for you to be doing nursemaid duty.”

“It is. But Aurelia had conflicting plans. I had no plans, so…” An easy shrug completed the sentence, and Greville took the proffered glass of claret with a nod of thanks.

The door closed softly behind Cornelia, and Harry looked a question at his visitor. “Your visit is not purely social, I take it.”

“No.” Greville took the seat his host waved him to. “You offered your assistance and now I have a simple question for you. I ask that you answer it without asking for details, which I am not at this point in a position to give.”

“Ask away.” Harry sipped his claret and kept his intense curiosity in check.

“If I should need you to take Franny at a moment’s notice…I may not even have time to bring her to you…can you guarantee to do it?”

“Yes,” Harry said calmly. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” Greville drank deeply of his wine. “I thank you.”

“No need.” Harry swirled the wine in his glass thoughtfully. “Can I assume that the dog is trained to protect Franny as well as Aurelia?”

“Yes. But she can’t be in both places at once.”

Harry nodded. “Forgive me, Falconer, but I must say one thing. If you allow anything to happen to Aurelia or Franny, you will answer for it to me.”

Greville gave a short laugh. “Have no fear, there’s nothing you could do to me, Bonham, that I will not already have done to myself.” He stood up. “It’s our business. You know the rules, you know the risks as well as I do. And believe me, Aurelia knows them, too. And that, my friend, is all I am going to say.”

Greville set his glass down and walked to the door. “I must take Franny home before it gets dark.”

“One minute, Falconer.” Harry spoke sharply. “I need you to clarify just one point.”

Greville paused, his hand on the door. “Yes?”

“Are you implying that Aurelia is working with you?”

“She has been pretty well from the first moment I met her. Aurelia is my partner, and she
knows
what she’s doing. Good afternoon, Bonham.” Greville opened the door and left the library.

Harry blew out his cheeks on a noisy exhale. He had suspected it, but had resisted the knowledge. As much, he recognized ruefully, because it pointed up his own failings in that regard. If he’d trusted Cornelia with the truth of his work, she and her son would not have become unwittingly and so nearly catastrophically involved. And he knew Alex Prokov would say the same about Livia. Prokov owed his life to his wife’s courage and determination. If Aurelia shared those characteristics with her friends, and of course she did, then who were they to wax indignant that she willingly partnered her husband in his work?

But where did the marriage come into it? That would be Cornelia’s first question, he knew. Was the marriage merely part of what they were working on together? Or was there more to it?

Harry hoped fervently for Aurelia’s sake that it was the latter.

By the time Don Antonio and Aurelia were in sight of her house on South Audley Street at the end of their ride in the park, the Spaniard was ready to wring his
companion’s neck. She was a most accomplished flirt and the worst kind of tease. Every flattering advance he had made, she had turned aside with a suggestive smile and a conflicting murmur of maidenly distress. She led him on as she pushed him away, and her stream of inconsequential chatter, interspersed with an irritating titter, was driving him insane. She had given him absolutely nothing, and he had the infuriating conviction that she had been enjoying herself most definitely at his expense.

“What a delightful ride, Don Antonio,” she said as they drew rein outside the house. “And you are such an entertaining companion.” The simper and the titter were cleverly restrained this time, with just the inviting up-from-under look from those deep brown eyes.

“May I return the compliment, ma’am,” he said, lying through his teeth. “And may I dare to believe that you would agree to another such excursion?”

“If you would dare to ask me, sir,” she returned with a wicked smile that had none of the simper about it.

Oh, she was good,
he thought.
Very, very good.
She knew exactly when to leaven the demure ingenue with the knowing sophisticate. If confusing her escort was her intention, she was an expert at the game. And if he had not had his own game to play, he might have enjoyed beating her at hers. But he would have his own back soon enough, and that victory would be particularly sweet.

“Perhaps something a little more daring than a ride in
Hyde Park?” he suggested with a flirtatious smile of his own. “I do believe, my lady, that you are not in the least a nervous rider.” He wagged a mock reproving finger at her.

His smile gave Aurelia the shivers. It was trying to be inviting, and yet she found it utterly repugnant. She batted her eyelashes. “What are you suggesting, Don Antonio?”

“Richmond. Where better for a springtime ride? The trees will be in blossom, the horse chestnuts ablaze with their candles, bluebells in all the dells.”

Aurelia managed with difficulty to produce a light laugh. “How poetic you are, sir. I could believe you to be very familiar with our English spring.”

“I read your English poets,” he said with an assumption of sincerity, leaning over to touch her gloved hand. “I admire your English culture as much as I understand you admire mine.”

Here she heard just the edge of the knife beneath the gentle banter. “I do, indeed, Don Antonio.” She slipped her hand out from his. “But it is quite unlike the English. There’s a certain darkness to it, a touch of melancholy, don’t you think?”

He smiled again. “If you would permit me, my lady, I could show you aspects of our culture where there is only light and pleasure.”

“And perhaps I will, sir,” Aurelia said lightly. “A ride in Richmond sounds delightful.” She beckoned Jemmy, who had dismounted and was waiting at the bottom of
the steps for her signal. He came hurrying over but not before Don Antonio had dismounted and was standing at her stirrup to help her down.

She accepted his hand, but as soon as her foot touched the pavement, she stepped away from him. “My thanks, Don Antonio, for a most pleasant excursion.”

He took her hand and bowed over it. “Will you ride with me again tomorrow, Lady Falconer?”

“Sir, I may not,” she said, trying for another light laugh. “What would the world say if they saw me ride in the park with you on two consecutive days? We do have our rules, you know. They may not be as strict as yours, but one breaks them at one’s peril.”

He gave her an accepting bow. “I understand. But you will consider the ride in Richmond?”

“With pleasure, Don Antonio.” She gave him her hand.

He raised it to his lips. “Then I will call upon you tomorrow to arrange the date, ma’am.”

“I look forward to it, Don Antonio.” She took back her hand, smiled once, then went swiftly up the steps to her front door, her key already in her hand. She had it open before Don Antonio had remounted, and she was inside with the door firmly closed before he had nudged his horse into motion.

She stood for a moment, leaning against the door at her back, absorbing the familiar atmosphere of her home, the scent of beeswax and lavender, the peaceful glow of the oil lamps, the knowledge of people,
her
people, moving about the rooms and corridors of the house.

Franny was upstairs in the nursery. She headed for the stairs, taking them at a run, barely hearing Greville’s voice in the hall, calling her name.

Greville followed Aurelia up to the nursery. He was on her heels as she greeted Franny, who, bathed and in her nightgown, was eating her supper of bread and milk sweetened with honey, and regaling Daisy with details of Lyra’s splendid performance in the Mount Street schoolroom.