Reckless Angel (17 page)

Leaning over him where he lay in the bath, she brought her mouth to his, her tongue pressing deeply insistent within, the hard crowns of her breasts tingling against his damp chest. He groaned with pleasure, running his hands down her back, nipping the firm flesh of her buttocks between finger and thumb. Her teeth closed over his lower lip in urgent, bold response and her hand slid between their bodies to grasp the rising shaft nudging her belly.

“You are going to taste the water again, my elf,” Daniel murmured, his eyes now burning as lust's dragon abandoned the waiting game. His hands spanned her back, holding her against him as he twisted. Water slopped over the rim onto the waxed floor; there was a brief, ungainly tangle of limbs, then Harry found herself back in the tub looking up at him as he knelt astride her.

Her body, moist and slippery in welcome, took him deep within; her eyes, huge pools of hungry wonder, were fastened upon his face; her tongue, damp and eager, ran over her lips; her hands gripped the corded muscles of his upper arms as he braced himself against the rim of the tub.

Slowly, wickedly, he withdrew to the very edge of her body and held himself there at the nerve-stretched tender opening. Her hips shifted in the now-cooling water and her body quivered around the tantalizing tip of the pleasure bringer. A warm languour spread through her lower body. It filled and then engulfed her so that she heard her own voice from a great distance making strange, incoherent sounds. Then, as he drove deep within, the bottom fell out of the universe and she felt herself sinking, without shape, without identity, into delight's embrace.

Daniel shuddered in glory on his own mountain, looking down at the heart-shaped face rapt with joyous wonder beneath him. There was a moment when her eyelids fluttered, opened, and the wide eyes gazed into his, their expression one of tenderness and an amazed gratitude, as if she had been given a priceless gift. And
he knew that his own expression would mirror hers. She had indeed gifted him this day and laid to rest the ghosts of past glories he had thought never to re-create.

He felt her shiver suddenly and the world reasserted itself. They were once more a man and a woman with limbs entangled in a bathtub of tepid water, and the fire was getting low, and the wind fingered its way through cracks in the casement. “Come,” he said softly, brushing a wet tendril of hair from her brow. “I think you have bathed sufficiently for one day.” He drew himself upright, stepping from the water.

Henrietta lay, still too languid to make the effort to move, feeling the water lap her skin where, despite the chill, a faint sheen of perspiration glowed. Daniel bent and splashed water between her breasts, ran a cleansing hand delicately between her thighs, then lifted her from the tub. She smiled dreamily at him, making no attempt to reach for the towel. He pushed her close to the fire, grabbed the towel, still damp from her previous bath, and rubbed her down vigorously, with none of the lingering caresses of before. It served to bring her back to herself and the world again, and she shivered anew.

“Put on your nightgown, love.” Daniel threw a scuttle of coals upon the fire, poked it fiercely, and the flames spurted high, throwing out renewed heat. “Quickly,” he said, as she huddled toward the warmth, reluctant to cross the room to fetch her fur-trimmed nightgown of dark blue wool.

She paused for a moment, savoring the endearment he had never before used, warmed to her core by the softness of his tone, the ease and naturalness with which he had spoken it.

Daniel fetched the gown himself, tossing it around her shoulders. “Y'are bewitched!” he said with a laugh, setting to dry himself. “And I can hardly blame you. I think I am myself.”

“I had thought to create such a wonderland,” she said, finding her voice at last and sounding just a little smug.

“Mmmm.” He put on his shirt, stepped into his britches, then stood regarding her quizzically. “Such a sweet-scented wonderland, it was. May I ask how you acquired such luxuries?”

A tinge of pink colored her cheekbones. “I spent a little of the money you gave me for household expenses last month. I thought 'twould not be a bad use.”

“No,” he said thoughtfully, “I will not quarrel with that. Did you ask Dorcas to make the purchases for you?”

She turned aside, busying herself with the girdle of her nightgown. “Not…not exactly.” She bent to pick up the discarded towel, shaking it out, hanging it over the firescreen to dry.

“Harry?” He spoke softly and she turned to face him.

“'Twas not so very far, Daniel, but a quarter of a mile along Cheapside. I told Dorcas I was going and she made no objection; she did not even tell me to have a care, so she must have thought 'twas quite safe.”

Daniel stroked his chin pensively. Then he crooked a finger at her. “You face me with a dilemma, Henrietta.” He pinched her nose as she came up to him. “I must excuse you on this occasion, because to do otherwise would be the act of an ingrate and I'll not bear such a charge. But you must understand that I forbade you to go out alone purely in the interests of your safety and my peace of mind. Y'are not city bred, elf, and the temper of the city at present is ugly and uncertain.”

She thought of what she had seen that afternoon and kept silent. Daniel pursed his lips, his eyes grave. “Obedience is a quality much prized in a wife,” he observed solemnly.

She looked up and thought she could detect just the flicker of a smile behind the gravity. She murmured a demure assent and waited for the smile to blossom as she somehow knew it was going to.

Daniel shook his head in mock exasperation. “I sup
pose, if we are to live in peace, I must learn to command only where you can easily comply. Only in this instance, I
will
insist. You will not again leave the house without escort. Is it understood?”

She put her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to nuzzle his throat where it rose strong and clean from the open neck of his shirt. “I do not think I shall wish to again. But 'twas to be a surprise, and I could not surprise you if I had to have your company.”

Daniel groaned in defeat, catching her wet hair and pulling her head back. “Will I ever make a proper wife of you?”

Her eyes sparked mischief. “But I thought you had, sir…a most proper wife. Must I demonstrate your achievements again?”

He laughed, even as his loins stirred anew and the fresh blood of eager youth seemed to course in his veins. “Later you shall do so, but for now I have need of my supper and 'twould be as well to tidy up the chamber. I would have you demonstrate the more pedestrian talents of domesticity.”

“I should have a care, sir, before you reject my offers in such cavalier fashion.” She danced away from his swinging hand, put her tongue out at him over her shoulder, and left the chamber with a light step and a singing heart.

Daniel made to follow her, his step no heavier and his heart no less musical than hers.

I
t was a week later when Daniel, shaking snow off his cloak, entered the house to be met by sounds of a violent altercation coming from the parlor. His wife's voice, shrill with fury, was ringing to the rafters yet was almost drowned out by a raucous bellowing that he immediately recognized.

“Oh, my heavens, Sir Daniel!” Dorcas, her habitual calm destroyed, scurried from the kitchen. “Thank goodness y'are back. There'll be murder done in a minute.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he said grimly, placing the shapeless parcel he was carrying carefully against the wall before flinging open the parlor door. The small room seemed full of people, but for the moment the only thing that interested him was the sight of his wife standing upon the oak table in the middle of the chamber, stamping her feet and yelling her head off.

“What the devil do you think you're doing?” Two long paces brought him to the table. “Get off there this instant!” Seizing her by the waist, he swung her down. “Just what were you doing?” he repeated, still holding her.

“I was trying to make myself heard,” Henrietta said somewhat breathlessly into the sudden silence. The hands at her waist were warm and steadying, imparting reassurance.

“Well, stamping your feet on the table is a novel,
not to say thoroughly indecorous, way of achieving such an object,” Daniel declared without heat, critically examining her flushed face and damp forehead. “Y'are thoroughly hot and bothered.” He glanced quickly around the room. “You also seem to have forgotten your duties as hostess, Henrietta. You do not appear to have offered your guests any refreshment.”

Under the circumstances, the reproving reminder, one suited to ordinary social congress, struck Henrietta as quite extraordinary and her jaw dropped. But some of the tension slipped from her body.

“Bravo, Sir Daniel. Will said you were a sensible man, and I can see he was quite right,” a voice said approvingly. The owner of the voice stepped away from the fire and Daniel turned to face a tall lady of ample girth and commanding stature. Green eyes twinkled in a worn countenance that nevertheless carried the marks of its previous beauty.

Daniel smiled, glancing at Will, standing beside his mother. “The resemblance is unmistakable, madam.” He bowed, raising her hand to his lips. “I am delighted to make the acquaintance of Will's mother.”

“When we heard from Master Filbert that you were in London,” Mistress Osbert said, gesturing toward the lawyer, who looked as if he wished he were anywhere but there, “we determined to pay you both a wedding visit. And I know that my husband wishes to settle certain affairs with you. We cannot thank you enough for your kindness and your care of Will.”

Daniel shook his head, laying an arm across the young man's shoulders in careless affection. “Will proved an invaluable companion and I can assure you there is nothing to settle.”

“Ah, I beg to differ, sir.” Esquire Osbert hurried forward. “I have heard the whole from Will and—”

“Oh, this is not the point!” Henrietta exclaimed in an agony of frustration. “They came with my father, Daniel, and he—”

“Where are your manners?” Daniel broke in as her voice began to rise alarmingly again. “What can you
be thinking of to interrupt in that discourteous fashion?”

The hectic flush died on her cheeks and she took a deep breath, turning toward Will's father. “I beg your pardon, sir. It was most ill-mannerly. I forgot myself for the moment.”

“That's better,” Daniel said gently, caressing her cheek with a fingertip. “There is no need to be so agitated. I am here now. Why do you not go abovestairs and tidy yourself while I find some refreshment for our guests?”

Henrietta shook her head. “Nay, I wish to stay. If you had not sent me away the last time you had dealings with my father, we would not be in this tangle now.”

“Why, you…” Sir Gerald sprang forward, and Daniel swiftly interposed himself between the man and his daughter.

“How delightful to see you again, Sir Gerald,” he said with a bland smile.

Sir Gerald came to an abrupt stop, head lowered rather in the manner of a charging bull meeting an immovable object. “'Tis no damn pleasure for me,” he blustered. “This damned lawyer comes to me with some insolent demand—”

“Insolent!” exclaimed Harry. “How can you possibly stand there and—”

“That will do!” Daniel swung around on her, real annoyance now in his face and voice. “If you wish to remain in the room, then be silent. I can make sense of nothing when you constantly interrupt in this intemperate fashion.”

“A very sensible man,” Mistress Osbert reaffirmed with a nod. “Ye need have no fear, Henrietta. We are here to see fair play, and I can assure you it will be done.”

Sir Gerald turned an alarming shade of puce and began struggling for words. Master Filbert coughed. “That's right, Lady Drummond,” he said. “There's
nothing for you to worry about. This misunderstanding is in a fair way to being settled.”

“
Misunderstanding!
”

“Henrietta, I said that will do!” thundered Daniel.

“I don't know what damned business this is of yours, Osbert,” Sir Gerald exploded into the moment of quiet. “Or of some damned whey-faced lawyer.” He glared at Master Filbert. “There's no documents to be found and I'll not stand here listening to you tell me otherwise, just because some damned jackanapes has greased your palm!”

Daniel rightly assumed he was the “damned jackanapes” in question but decided to ignore the insult. His father-in-law seemed to suffer from a paucity of adjectives, he reflected. “May I offer you wine, gentlemen? Since Henrietta has omitted to do so.”

“Thank'ee,” Esquire Osbert said with heartfelt relief. “But ye shouldn't blame Henrietta. 'Twas a shock for her when we all turned up. But as Amelia says, we'll not stand by and see her done out of her due. As soon as we heard what was in the wind, Amelia said we must do our bit this time; we've turned a blind eye too often in the past.” He scratched his nose, as freckled as Will's. “It's hard to know what to do, though, Sir Daniel. Can't interfere between a man and his child even if you don't hold with what's going on, and I don't say Henrietta was an easy child…never biddable. But this is different, as Amelia says…a matter of right and wrong and what I know. I saw those papers myself when there was talk of a match between Henrietta and Will, and I'll stand up in a court of law and say so. As will Master Filbert.” He drank deeply of the goblet handed him and sat down at the table with the air of a man who has said his say, shooting a glance of ineffable distaste at Sir Gerald, who was becoming more apoplectic by the minute.

“I cannot believe that will be necessary,” Daniel said, thanking his stars for Amelia Osbert, who clearly saw where her duty lay and had no hesitation in taking the path and marching others along with her. He raised
an eyebrow at the fulminating Ashby. “Come, Sir Gerald, let us discuss this in a reasonable fashion.”

“Reasonable?” A sly look appeared in Ashby's bloodshot eyes. “Reasonable, ye say? Where are these documents, then? The ones everyone says they've seen? You show 'em to me, then mayhap we'll have a ‘reasonable' discussion.” He drained his goblet and slammed it down on the table with unsuppressed violence.

“Oh, I'll show them to you.” Henrietta spoke quietly. She was very pale but seemed perfectly in control of herself as she stepped forward. “I know exactly where they are.” She offered her father a glinting, mocking smile. “Shall I tell you? Or should we all journey into Oxfordshire and I will lay hands upon them myself? Which would you prefer…Father?”

The last word was invested with a wealth of bitter irony that chilled Daniel to the marrow. He stared at her in the stunned silence that wrapped them all. She was holding herself rigidly straight and still, and seemed to be concentrating every ounce of energy, every fiber of strength, every strand of willpower, upon the volcanic bulk of the man she called Father. It was as if she would defeat him with the power of herself, as if she believed he would crumble into inoffensive, harmless dust before the force of her will.

What Daniel did not know, what no one in that room except Henrietta herself knew, was that she was playing a hunch. Her father was an obsessive magpie. He kept everything, whether it had any apparent use or not, on the grounds that one never knew what the future would hold. If he had not destroyed the documents, she knew where they were. And as she impaled her father with the probe of the knowledge she thought she had, she saw that she had been right. The lines of his face seemed to blur, uncertainty to swim in his eyes.

“They are to be found beneath the false bottom of Lady Mary's jewel casket behind the panel beside the fireplace in your bedchamber,” she pronounced with a thrill of triumph that she could not disguise. It was
a triumph that led her to recklessness and her voice took on a taunting ring. “And with them will be found the deed of covenant for the tenants in the Longshire cottages. The deed giving to the families the cottages in perpetuity for a peppercorn rent in recognition of their services to your grandfather. The deed you denied ever existed when you evicted those families and sold the cottages to pay your gambling debt to Charles Parker.”

So heady was the sensation of victory as she read the truth and incredulity in Sir Gerald's face that her habitual instincts of caution went by the board. She had come very close to him as she made her statements, and when his hand flashed, powered by the full force of his arm, she ducked an instant too late. The next second a chair crashed to the floor under the dead weight of Ashby's bulk staggering beneath the impact of Daniel's fist.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Master Filbert whimpered, wringing his hands as he looked at the devastation around him. “This is most unseemly.”

Daniel ignored him. He bent to scoop up Henrietta, who was on her knees against the wall. “That was foolish,” he said almost roughly. “You had already made your point without talking of cottages.”

“Maybe so, but it served to prove the point,” she managed to retort, triumph still in her voice.

Catching her chin, he turned her face sideways. “Y'are going to have a very black eye.”

“Not for the first time. Anyway, it was worth it.” She glanced at her father, who was struggling to his feet, shaking his head like a bewildered bull, and said rather wistfully, “I wish you'd knock him down again.”

“Bloodthirsty little wretch!” Daniel exclaimed. Will snorted with laughter, then coughed, reddening under a hard glare from his mother, who marched across the room to Henrietta.

“This has become disgracefully out of hand. Come with me, Henrietta. We will see if the goodwife has
some red meat to put upon your eye. It will draw out the swelling.”

“Oh, please, no.” Harry made a face. “I do hate it, all bloody and wet and cold. 'Twill be all right if we leave it be.” She shot a pleading glance at Daniel with the eye that was open. “Will it not, Daniel?”

“Go with Mistress Osbert,” he said, impervious to the plea. “Your part is well played and I would play mine now without hindrance.”

“I would not hinder you,” she said softly. “I wish to hear what is decided. Am I not entitled?”

“I can see that marriage has not made you any the more biddable, Henrietta,” declared Mistress Osbert. “'Tis not a woman's place to take part in these discussions.”

Henrietta squinted fiercely. “I do not think you believe that, madam. And if 'tis not true where you are concerned, why should it hold for me?”

Will gave vent to another ill-concealed chortle and Esquire Osbert regarded his wife with some interest, waiting for her response. “Y'are impertinent, Henrietta,” she said at last, but there was a twinkle in the green eyes.

“I know, madam,” Harry agreed cheerfully.

“Well, I cannot help but feel compassion for your husband.” Mistress Osbert glided to the door. “You had best sit quietly and I will fetch something for that eye.”

Victory achieved, Harry sat on the settle beside the fire without demur. Although she would cut her tongue out rather than admit it, she was feeling distinctly quivery all of a sudden and her eye was beginning to throb painfully. She rested her head against the tall wooden back of the settle, content to let the voices swell around her, knowing she had nothing further to contribute but still fiercely clinging to her right to be there.

Daniel looked at her for a minute, a deep frown in his eyes as he wrestled with the urge to carry her off to bed willy-nilly. She looked so fragile with that great
purple swelling marring the small, heart-shaped face. But she was entitled to remain if she wished, old enough to make her own choices and decide for herself if she felt well enough to implement those choices. He turned to his father-in-law, who had managed to drag himself into a chair, where he sat in the stunned and sullen silence of a bully who has met his match.

“Now perhaps we may have that reasonable discussion, Sir Gerald,” Daniel said pleasantly. “Pray take a seat, Master Filbert. There will be some papers to draw up and we might as well waste no further time. I am sure Esquire Osbert will lend his services as witness.”

Sir Gerald put up no further resistance and Harry offered only token protest to the large slab of raw flesh firmly placed on her eye by a resolute Mistress Osbert, who then sat down at the table with the air of an adjudicator.

“How did you know, Harry?” Will whispered, sitting beside her on the settle. “Not that anything you could do would ever surprise me anymore, but how could you be so sure where the papers were?”

“I wasn't,” she confided with an attempted smile. “But it seemed worth trying. I know that's where he hides precious things because I found the hiding place one day when I was poking around their bedchamber. No one knew I had discovered it.”