[Samuel Barbara] The Black Angel(Book4You) (30 page)

She stood up, paced to the window and stared out at the Thames, wondering how to phrase her vague feelings. Finally, she turned. "I think he is, at heart, a most honorable man. It's like steel in him, a core of truth and strength that's very rare." She frowned. "But I sense, often, that he does not reveal everything to me."

Julian was still for a moment. "Perhaps you should give him time to reveal himself as he sees fit."

"I am falling in love with him, Julian," she said quietly. "That frightens me. If he has some terrible secret, I feel I should know before my heart goes beyond the place I can reclaim it."

He only looked at her. Measuring.

Adriana moved back, sat in the chair. "I think you know some of it. I would very much like answers."

"It isn't my place to tell you."

She made a sound of protest. "But I am your sister. He isn't your blood! I am."

"True. But I am a gentleman, and I took pains to discover what I could in order to put my own mind at ease, and in doing so, put him at a risk I did not understand." He lifted his hands, prayerlike, to his lips. "I do not wish to add to that risk."

She closed her eyes, truly afraid now. She couldn't think what secret would put Tynan at danger in any way, unless he were a murderer or some other criminal. "What danger, Julian? I don't understand."

He took her hand in his own. "This much I can tell you, Riana. He may ask more of you than you are willing to give, not because he is cruel, but because his task is much larger than he. Only you will know how much you're willing to give." He took a breath. "And, honestly, the girl I knew would not have been willing."

She snatched her hand away, stung to the very quick. "I am not that girl any longer. My life did not freeze when you left. I continued to live, day in and day out, and I grew up." Lifting her chin, she said, "I
was a foolish, vain girl, Julian. I know that. But I
was
only a girl."

His lips quirked. "And I was a headstrong, idiot boy, and Malvern only a selfish little twit who probably did not deserve his fate, either."

"Does your conscience pain you on that count, Julian? I never thought to ask."

"It does," he said without emotion. "But one cannot travel backward, only forward."

"True." The tension between them had eased, and Adriana found she wished to stay a little. "Have you any cards? Would you like to play?"

"I do," he said. "And I would."

By the end of the day, Tynan was weary of wearing a mask of joviality, weary of the small talk he was forced to indulge for the sake of politics. Politics! All the petty maneuverings and flutters and favors made him impatient. There were times he despaired, imagining himself required to attend not only the sessions of the Irish parliament, but the English as well. He feared he'd drop dead of sheer boredom.

And yet, even for a man of action, there was no other path, save that of pure revolution, and he did not wish to choose violence to meet his ends. Too many of his own would die.

Only the thought of Adriana lightened his step as he came into the town house and the maid directed him to the plant room. He loosened his collar as he went, thinking with longing of less restrictive clothing, less foppish, less likely to be marred by the work of a man engaged in an honest day's work. The thought felt sour in some way, and he scowled as he came into the scented, humid room.

Adriana had not heard him enter, and he captured the instant of observation close: her blond head bent over her watercolors, the slope of a white shoulder contrasting against the rich ruby tone of her dress. There was some sadness about her, caught in the soberness of that lush and wicked mouth. A jolt of surprising hunger struck him, and without a thought he covered the distance between them and placed his hands on her shoulders, putting his mouth against her nape. She startled a little, but the ripple of reaction in her arms gave him the reward he'd sought. He closed his eyes, feeling a kind of relief.

She leaned into him and he circled her silky throat with his hands and pressed a kiss to her brow. "I've ached all day for you," he whispered, and put his hands lower, lightly resting on the upper rise of her breasts. "How will we manage dinner?"

With a strange graveness, she lifted his hand to her mouth. "Tynan, if I ask you questions, will you answer them?"

He stilled. "What questions?"

She turned and raised troubled eyes to his face. "What is it that haunts you? What secret do you keep?"

He shifted his body away from her, hid his face by examining the blossom of a vine curling up the girders. "I—" he broke off, realizing he did not wish to lie. He closed his eyes and turned to face her. "I have spent this day engaged in wearying discussions of all sorts, and longed only to come back here to you. I will reveal all that I am to you, in time. But allow us this little stretch of peace first. Can you?"

With a troubled expression, she rose. "Are you a murderer?"

He could not halt a small burst of laughter. "No. I am not violent and I have no mistress." He reached for her, a wash of dizziness on his spine as her scent filled his head. "Those things I promise," he whispered over her lips, and kissed her, knowing it was her weakness.

And it was as it had been the night before, a thick explosion of something carnal and yet deeper than that, enveloping them completely and mindlessly, and no more was said of his secrets at all. Not that night, or for several more.

With the trial looming so close, there were, suddenly, a great many things to do. Adriana and Gabriel met with barristers and others who helped them devise a strategy for the trial. On many things, they all agreed. Others, such as whether Adriana would be called to testify, were hotly debated. Gabriel was adamantly against it, insisting there were many others who could be called to tell the truth of events.

One afternoon, fresh from a rather heated session with the barrister, Adriana linked her arm through her brother's. He wore crisp blue satin, and the fabric was cool against her fingers. "You needn't be so fierce on my behalf," she said. "If I'm called, I'll manage."

"I won't have you dragged through it all again." His expression hardened, stubborn, and Adriana was reminded forcefully of their father.

She grinned at him. "You look so much like Papa when you set your jaw that way."

"Do I?" It pleased him.

"Yes. Stubborn idealism."

"When I was small, he was like a god. I wanted to be just like him. And then he went away for such a long, long time, and though Mama tried to excuse him, I was quite angry." The pale green eyes flashed with humor. "Then he came back and brought me so many sisters and even a brother!"

"Lucky you."

"Lucky you," he returned. "Who'd have taught you of pirates and swords?"

Adriana laughed, leaning into him fondly. The day was cold but bright, and the streets were full of traffic and noise and scents. Gabriel, so tall and graceful, exotic but obviously a gentleman, attracted attention wherever he went, and she basked a little in the shield he offered. Dressed plainly, with a hat to hide her hair, no one bothered with a second glance. "I did love pirates. I thought you'd grow up to be one."

He laughed. "Perhaps I have!"

"Ah! And what are you apt to steal?"

"Liberty," he said, lifting one heavy dark brow with a quick grin. "What say you, lady, will you take up your sword and join me?"

"My sword is a bit rusty these days."

"Well, then we shall have to practice. Will you spar with me?"

Happily, she lifted her head. "Yes! Oh, it would be fun! Will you come now? I've spent so little time with you, Gabriel."

"Of course now," he said, mockingly pulling up his chin. "One must always be ready."

"One for all…" she said, laughing.

They were in the back garden, warmed by their exertions, when Tynan found them. It was the sound of their shouts and laughter that drew him. A wide expanse of lawn butted up to the house, with doors to the conservatory and the back sitting room, and he went through the parlor.

At the sight that greeted him, Tynan paused, smiling. Gabriel was in his shirtsleeves and satin breeches and a pair of tall boots, polished to a gleaming shine. Adriana had shed her day dress in favor of a man's shirt and a simple skirt, and her hair was pulled back from her face into an untidy knot. They sparred joyfully, sister and brother, one so dark, the other so fair. Watching them, Tynan was struck by two things.

The first was that Gabriel was a remarkable swordsman, his rapier an extension of his athletic grace. He made a dance of it, thrusting and swinging back, tricking Adriana with sly feints and ruses, laughing broadly when he succeeded.

But while he enjoyed the company of Gabriel, who had somehow become his friend these past weeks, it was naturally Adriana who drew Tynan's eye. She, too, laughed and danced and thrust, obviously regaining a skill that had grown stale, and he saw yet another face of her—here was the wild child, the one who'd played happily with her brothers in a tropical world that retained its power to make her eyes grow soft even these many years later. Her expression shone, full of life and joy and exuberance, and he thought with an odd pinch of the woman he'd first encountered, bound up in black bombazine, hiding herself away.

Crossing his arms, he chose to stay back a little, puzzling over the seemingly endless facets of this woman. What about her brother brought out this side of her? This playful woman who cared little for fashion or vanity, who wiped sweat off her brow with a sleeve, attracted him violently.

Gabriel seemed to make her remember, with great pleasure, the adventurous side of her personality. It was to Gabriel she'd gone to share her adventure of dressing in men's clothing, he remembered.

And who brought on the woman in black bombazine? The contrite, sorrowing woman who was ashamed of her passion? Was that Cassandra?

He crossed his arms. No, with Cassandra, she seemed to be striving for some standard of proper behavior as defined by society, which struck Tynan as a little odd, since Cassandra obviously cared little for the opinions of the vain and shallow set. She was too intellectual to be satisfied with that.

Phoebe? No, not her, either. Phoebe was kind and good and would never make judgments.

With a shrug, he stepped out into the garden, thinking perhaps Adriana simply punished herself. He would have to see what he could do to prevent that. "Ho! Swords!" he said.

"Spenser," Gabriel said with a nod. "Will you spar?"

He settled on a bench. "I'll leave that to the two of you." Lifting a wicked brow at Adriana, he said, "'Tis a pleasure to see a woman embrace a sport without wilting and whining."

Adriana, flushed, laughed. "No whining here. On guard." She feinted toward him, a smile quirking one side of her mouth. "We've uses for your ilk, mate."

The lovely, smoky blue of her eyes held a mischievous light. "D'you now?" he drawled.

Gabriel sat beside him, panting, and gave him the sword. "She's worn me out," he said with a grin. "Your turn."

Tynan stuck it in the ground, point down. "I've other ways."

Adriana sighed in exaggerated annoyance. "I was just regaining my arm!"

"No, my dear, you got your arm back an hour ago." Gabriel shook his head. "If it weren't for me, you'd be the best swordsman in England."

"I am the best
swordswoman
." But she gave it up and sat on the bench with them, and they traded tales of the business they'd all undertaken. Seated between them in the crisp autumn day, Tynan almost forgot the loss of his own family in the pleasure of finding a new one. Covertly, he touched her fingers, and with a secret smile she took it.

Adriana found herself loath to pursue the question of Tynan's secrets, for the golden spirit of this time seemed too precious to invade. And so she let it rest, undisturbed, thinking she would somehow breach it once the trial was done. There would be time enough then.

Behind closed doors, in the garden of his world, she discovered that he devoured her with the same intense and curious devotion he expended upon everything else. He seemed to never tire of discovering some new way to please her, and he was as eager to accept her own more shyly offered but no less enthusiastic attempts to please him.

She discovered that he teased unmercifully and laughed with great gusto, and that there was no more beautiful sight in the world than his eyes, glittering with pleasure and humor and appreciation when he was buried deep within her. And nothing more moving than his sober mouth when he slept, unaware of her gaze. His world, the garden of his mind, truly did bloom in greater vividness than did the rest of the world's, though the storms, it was true, were fierce and battering. Sorrow could flash over him, turn him darkly brooding for long hours—and it seemed to her only natural that such a thing should be true. How could there be a capacity for joy without an equal capacity for sorrow?

In those first breathless days, she allowed nothing to intrude to spoil her pleasure. She did not ask herself if she was in love with her husband, simply allowed herself to feast at the banquet he offered. He, too, seemed content to drink of the cup that she offered.

On Thursday morning Cassandra appeared at the door to the town house as Adriana was taking her breakfast. A footman showed her into the dining room, and Adriana rose immediately, alarmed by the loose wildness of Cassandra's hair and the shock on her face. "What is it?" Adriana cried.

Cassandra wordlessly waved a letter, and Adriana snatched it from her. It was in Ophelia's unformed hand. The words were to the point:
Phoebe was thrown from her horse and she is in terrible pain. You must come
.

Adriana raised aggrieved eyes. "Nothing else?"

"No." She swallowed. "We must go to her now."

"Of course." Adriana found her mind frozen, captured in a hurrying circle of what if? what if? what if? With a bitter sense of regret, she thought of the letter she had begun on Sunday and did not finish.

A fall from a horse could lead to a long and agonizing death, or only a simple bruise. What did terrible pain mean? She pressed a hand to her ribs, feeling breathless, and gulped in a lungful of air. It only helped marginally. She nodded vaguely. "Right. We must go. I'll leave word with the servants. Gabriel and Tynan must stay. The trial…"