Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard (28 page)

Vivien affected a wistful sigh. “No, I’m afraid my husband and I have been denied that blessing.”

“Oh, look,” Aden said, pointing across the street to a shop with a display of books in the window. “There’s the circulating library. Perhaps we should go in and sign up while we’re passing by.”

The women ignored him.

“No children and suffering from melancholy, eh?” Mrs. Pettigrew said with a shrewd look in her kind eyes. “I think we know exactly what your problem is, Mrs. Parker.”

“We do?” said Mrs. Simmons.

Mrs. Pettigrew leaned close to her sister-in-law. “Breeding problems,” she announced in a penetrating whisper. She cut Aden another glance. “But I can’t see that he’s the problem.”

Vivien could feel Aden’s entire body vibrating like a tuning fork, but she was having too much fun to end his misery by bringing a halt to the discussion. “Alas, you have deduced our tragic situation,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “My doctor is hopeful that the healing waters will restore me and allow us to fulfill our fondest wish.” She finished by gazing at Aden with soulful adoration.

He gave her a tight smile, though his eyes promised retribution.

“You’ve come to the right place,” Mrs. Pettigrew said gaily. “But you must take the waters every day, and put some meat on your bones, too. Which means you must come to tea with us on a regular basis. Our cook makes the best scones and plum cakes in the county.”

“We should be delighted,” Vivien responded before Aden could level any objections. Much to her surprise, she found the situation not only entertaining but strangely comforting. No one knew her, or had any expectations regarding her behavior. It was . . . a relief.

“Splendid,” cried Mrs. Pettigrew. “And then we can introduce you to—”

“Dorothy,” Mrs. Simmons cut in. “There’s Mrs. Colman, waving at us from the apothecary shop.”

“Oh, bother,” Mrs. Pettigrew sighed. She gave Vivien an apologetic smile. “Forgive us, my dear. Why don’t you go along, and we’ll catch up to you in a few minutes.”

After the two women hurried away, Vivien braced herself for a thorough scold. Instead, Aden simply gave her an arch look. “You’re lucky I don’t take you home right now and put you over my knee,
Wife.
”

She opened her mouth to retort but closed it when she realized his mock threat sounded a great deal more enticing than it should.

“Vivien, I understand you’re lonely,” he continued in a serious voice. “But you must be careful. It won’t do for people to gossip about us. We’re trying to maintain a low profile, remember?”

She gave him a little jab in the ribs. “Firstly, no two women could be more completely innocent. Secondly, we’re in the middle of nowhere. How anyone could figure out who we really are is beyond me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Yes, I would be very surprised. You know how grateful I am for your concern, but I begin to think this is excessive. We must be entirely safe here.”

He stopped in front of a tobacconist’s shop, only pretending to peruse the window display. She could see his frustration in the hard set to his jaw and in the way the skin stretched over his cheekbones.

“Do you truly not think Prince Ivan will take the most desperate of measures to achieve his aim?” he asked. “For all intents and purposes the man is mad, Vivien. You must never forget that, or you will come to a bad end.” He cast her a brooding glance. “Do you understand? You are not to get too close to anyone in this village or share information like you did just now.”

Her fragile, hopeful mood evaporated. “Yes, I understand. I am to be more like you. That shouldn’t be too hard, because I’ll just scowl at everyone and refuse to have civil conversations.”

He started to scowl at her but then wiped the expression from his face. “Don’t be ridiculous. I do nothing of the sort.”

“You do. You close yourself off from everyone in your life, even your mother. Everyone can see how much she wants to mend whatever it is between you, but you keep pushing her away.”

She pulled her hand from his elbow and made a great show of retying her bonnet. When she finished, she held onto her reticule with both hands so she didn’t have to touch him again.

“I don’t understand you,” she said past the choking sensation in her throat. “You seem determined to push away anyone who wishes to be close to you.” She forced out the sticky words. “Including me.”

He grimaced and took her by the elbow, leading her around the corner and into the village square. It was fronted on three sides by shops and the town’s only coaching inn, and by the pump room and spa on the other. Vivien tried to dredge up interest in the classically designed buildings, but frustration and a creeping sense of melancholy weighed her down.

And now Aden had obviously decided to reinstate the silent treatment. Good thing the waters at the spa were a cure for nervous ailments, because she would need at least a gallon to cut through her anxious and gloomy mood.

Or a large brandy when they returned to the manor house.

Aden’s steps slowed as they approached the grand marble portico. “It’s necessary,” he said rather abruptly.

Her mind blanked. “What is?”

“It’s necessary for me to keep a distance from . . . those who would be close to me.”

Her heart constricted at his choice of words. “Why?”

“For my work. To maintain my focus.”

She pondered that for several seconds, then rejected it with a growing sense of anger. “I still don’t see why. Sir Dominic doesn’t act like that, and he’s a spy, too.”

“Vivien—”

She flapped a hand. “Don’t bother to deny it, and don’t try to change the subject. The point is, Sir Dominic
does
have people in his life, and you don’t.”

When she stopped in the middle of the square, he was forced to come to a halt too. His expression—grim and haunted—caught her low in the gut. She realized for the first time just how wide was the chasm between them.

“Why are you like this, Aden? What happened to you?” she whispered.

For a few seconds, his eyes blazed with emotion, but soon he was again the man behind the impassive mask.

“Trust me, my dear,” he said. “You do not want to know.”

Surprisingly, Aden enjoyed Mrs. Pettigrew’s dinner party. Attending an evening where two-thirds of the guests were in their dotage turned out to be oddly relaxing and he’d enjoyed watching Vivien charm her way into their good-natured hearts.

More than once in the last few weeks, as he adjusted to the slower rhythms of village life, he’d found himself more at peace than he’d been in a long time. The only dangers that threatened were tumbling off one’s horse or tripping over a loose cobblestone.

Or succumbing to the temptation that Vivien posed to his self-control. That
was
a considerable danger, both to his head and his heart.

Aden stood quietly by the front door of Mrs. Pettigrew’s town house, on a small but pretty crescent at the top of the hill overlooking the village. His erstwhile wife was saying her good-byes to her hostess and Mrs. Simmons, who’d made good on their promise to take Vivien on as their special project. They’d introduced her to their friends, spent every afternoon with her at the spa, and had invited her and Aden to dine three times since their arrival two weeks ago. Their attentions had kept Vivien both busy and happy.

Initially, he’d opposed the friendships but had finally decided it made sense to keep her occupied. Now she didn’t constantly fret, or study him with a puzzled, almost lost expression in her big blue eyes. He knew Vivien still struggled to understand his silent retreat after their insanely misguided sexual encounter at the inn. He’d been the worst kind of fool to touch her, but she’d been so vulnerable and sweet and so bloody beautiful that he’d given in to temptation, swept away on a tide of emotion that made
him
feel vulnerable too.

A vulnerable spy usually ended up a dead spy, so that meant keeping his guard up and keeping Vivien out. Because whenever he touched her, his brain resembled nothing so much as runny French brie and his finely tuned instincts deserted him with unseemly haste.

So, he’d let her make friends and enjoy herself, and it had surprised the hell out of him how quickly she’d taken to village life. Without the demands of her selfish family dragging her down and safe under his care, she’d blossomed.

Not just blossomed. She sparkled like a glittering night sky, and Aden dreaded the moment she would no longer be part of his life. She’d radiated light and heat into the dark, cold corners of his soul, but both would disappear on the day he had to walk away from her.

That day was coming soon.

“Take care of our sweet girl, Mr. Parker,” Mrs. Pettigrew said as she snugged Vivien’s cloak up around her throat. “She’s looking ever so much healthier, but the night air can be treacherous.”

Aden smiled. “You may be sure of it, ma’am. My wife’s well-being is always my first concern.”

With a little jolt, he realized his practiced comments were actually nothing less than the truth. A world without her had rapidly become a world in which Aden was losing interest.

Vivien planted an affectionate kiss on Mrs. Pettigrew’s plump cheek. “You all fuss too much. I told Mr. Parker this morning that I’ve never felt better.”

Mrs. Simmons nodded wisely. “I told you the waters and our clean, fresh air would clear up your little problem.” She waggled her eyebrows. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if in the next several weeks we receive some very happy news.”

Aden’s brain stuttered. He truly was losing his edge. “What happy news?”

Mrs. Pettigrew and Mrs. Simmons both eyed him askance. Vivien seemed to be inspecting the plasterwork on the ceiling, perfectly conveying the silent message that he was an idiot.

He was, at least around her these days.

“You know,” Mrs. Pettigrew prompted, directing a vague gesture at Vivien’s midsection. “The
breeding
problem.”

Aden felt himself redden. “Oh, that,” he said in a faint voice.

“Yes, that,” Vivien responded dryly.

“I suggest you go home and have a
discussion
about it,” Mrs. Pettigrew said with a sly grin. “I’m sure the results will be very
fruitful.
”

Mrs. Simmons clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back giggles as Aden hastily bundled Vivien out the door. He’d rather go unarmed into a den of cutthroats than discuss sex with a pair of elderly widows—especially sex with Vivien.

Who was still snickering when they settled into their waiting carriage.

“My dear Mrs. Parker,” Aden gently mocked. “We need to have a chat about your new friends. I hardly think they exhibit the right tone of mind for a woman as genteel as yourself. Whatever would your mother say?”

Her smile dimmed. “My mother would be appalled to see me keeping such company, I’m sorry to say. She would no doubt label them vulgar mushrooms.”

Aden had learned that only one thing had the power to truly unsettle Vivien and that was her family—especially her mother. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that Lady Blake had neglected her for years, and that Vivien keenly felt that lack of maternal affection.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to distress you.”

She gave a sad little shrug and fell into a pensive silence. After a minute, her elegant eyebrows puckered together in a frown, and her fingers absently played with the tasselled ties of her cloak.

“What is it?” he asked. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

Vivien let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob. “It’s nothing. I’m just being silly.”

Her weak attempt at a smile only made her look more forlorn. Aden ordered himself to let it go, but he loathed seeing her unhappy. She’d accused him of closing himself off from the people in his life, and that was true. But keeping her out had been a struggle from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, and he felt the battle slipping away from him. It was a battle he’d started to want to lose, too. Anything was preferable to seeing her looking so lost and alone.

He moved across to join her. She jumped, staring up at him in surprise as he settled his arm around her shoulders. When she shivered, he pulled her close.

Tipping up her chin, Aden pressed a gentle kiss to her brow. “Tell me what troubles you, sweet. Let me help.”

Her hands fluttered up to rest on his chest. The slender fingers, sheathed in soft, pale kid, trembled lightly against him as if part of her was afraid to touch him.

“I’m being a ninny,” she whispered.

He bent his head to hear. “Why do you think that?”

She swallowed hard, like a child forcing back tears, and he wondered how long it had been since anyone had truly listened to her or put her needs first.

“I’ve been happy here,” she said. “It’s not that I’ve forgotten about Prince Ivan or that I’ve stopped worrying about my family. But it’s been so peaceful, and everyone has been terribly kind and affectionate.” She managed a wavering smile. “And Sir Dominic’s servants spoil me to an outrageous degree. I find I’m becoming quite selfish, and I confess it concerns me. Some days I wish we could stay here forever.”

She deserved spoiling, but only Vivien would worry about succumbing to it. That was part of her charm. Despite her beauty and her many talents, she was innately modest and kind, drawing others to her with a laughing ease that slipped past the most hardened of shields. Even Dominic’s staff—all retired agents who now ran this safe house—had fallen victim to her charm. Every day, Aden watched them trip all over themselves in their eagerness to make her happy.

“You deserve a little spoiling,” he said. “It should not concern you.”

A sigh shuddered through her, vibrating from her body into his. “I’ll miss it when we return to London. Life is so much simpler here.”

She frowned, as if puzzling something out. It took all his restraint not to kiss away the frown lines creasing her pale brow.

“People here are so unaffected . . . and more honest than in London,” she said. “I know that’s not fair, and I am fortunate to have many dear friends there who care for me.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “It doesn’t make any sense, I know. People are people, wherever they are.”

“It makes perfect sense. The
ton
has its attractions, but honesty and unaffected behavior don’t number among them.” He tapped her nose. “You know that, too. You’re just too good-natured to say it.”

She gave him a fleeting smile. “There’s another reason I’ll be sorry to return home.”

He settled her more comfortably against him, relishing the feel of her lithe body back in his arms. “And what is that?”

She sucked in a deep breath, as if gathering her courage. “I’ll miss you, of course. I’m afraid that once this is over, I’ll never see you again.”

The quiet yearning in her voice twisted his heart into knots. He closed his eyes, shaken by his own fierce desire to return her emotion.

Christ.
He opened his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

She flinched and tried to draw away. He tightened his arms around her.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I had no right to say that. You mustn’t think I expect anything from you. You never said—”

He grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You should expect things from me,” he said in a harsh voice. “You deserve them. Unfortunately, I don’t deserve you.”

Her lips parted and she trembled in his arms. He knew what he should do—he should soothe her with kind words and platitudes, assurances that life would soon return to normal. But that wasn’t what she needed. She needed
him,
and without the barriers he’d grown so adept at constructing. His mother, Dominic, his half siblings and friends, his fellow agents—those he could keep out.

But not Vivien. Not anymore.

He saw the pain of rejection in her beautiful, sad eyes. He recognized that look since he suffered from the same malady. He’d been plagued by it ever since he’d found out who he was—an unwanted child, the inconvenient bastard of a pitiful excuse for a man.

She scowled at him. “Really, Aden, for an intelligent man you sometimes say the most ridiculous things.”

Her unexpected response pulled a rusty laugh from his throat. No wonder he wanted her so much. No one else could make him laugh, or lighten his cares the way she did.

“I know, my sweet,” he said in an apologetic tone. “Sometimes I even confuse myself.”

The lonely expression faded from her eyes, and a bit of her sparkle returned. “Dear me. It would seem you should do something about that.”

He tipped her face up, stroking her stubborn little chin with his gloved hand. “Any suggestions, Mrs. Parker?”

“You can start by kissing me, Mr. Parker.”

 

 

Vivien barely noticed the carriage drawing to a halt in front of the manor house, too lost in the hot tease of Aden’s mouth. When she’d worked up the courage to ask him to kiss her, for a horrible moment she’d thought he’d refuse. He’d embraced her to comfort her—he was very good at that—but she was afraid nothing could break through his wall of reserve.

But then his gaze had flared with desire. He’d taken her mouth then, swooping down with a passion that pushed her head back against his arm. His body enveloped hers, a cage of flesh and bone from which she longed never to escape.

Their kiss had quickly grown heated and wet, drowning her in pleasure. Her hands had crept up his chest, slipping inside his coat and fumbling for buttons. He’d stopped her by pulling her body tight against him even as he murmured a warning against her lips. But he hadn’t broken away from her.

Until now.

“Vivien, I have no intention of making love to you in a carriage,” he said in a firm voice. “That tends to not end very well, as you recall.”

Well,
that
ruined the moment.

Sighing, she took his hand as he helped her down the coach steps. She’d had every hope of convincing Aden to make love to her again, but the opportunity had probably passed. Fuming irrationally about frustrating spies and men who kissed like the devil and then walked away, she stomped up the marble steps to the house and waited for him to open the door.

As he stood at her back—in fact, he pressed all along the length of her back—Aden let out a soft chuckle.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he murmured in her ear.

His breath tickled and she couldn’t help shivering.

After a swift glance up and down the street, he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. As he helped her off with her cloak, MacDonnell silently appeared from the back of the house. Vivien smiled at the man who served as butler to the establishment and Aden’s second-in-command. He was more than a simple servant, as was every one of the staff in this oddest of houses. They all superficially looked the domestic part, but they worked for Sir Dominic and their sworn mission was to protect her. If her maid was less than adept at fixing hair and the cook occasionally burned the eggs, it was a small price to pay for their vigilance and dedication.

“Would you like me to send Martha up, Mrs. Parker?” MacDonnell asked as he took her wrap.

Vivien smiled. Even within the house their fictional identities were maintained. She had initially objected, thinking it silly, but Aden had insisted.

“That won’t be necessary,” Aden replied. “I’ll be helping Mrs. Parker tonight.”

MacDonnell’s left eyebrow ticked up a notch as he stared at Aden. Aden stared right back, as if daring him to issue a challenge. After a few seconds, the butler inclined his head and Vivien could breathe again. More than anything, she hoped Aden’s directive meant what she thought it meant, but the last few weeks had taught her not to take anything for granted.

“Bunch of bloody old ladies,” Aden muttered as he steered her up the stairs and down the narrow corridor leading to the bedrooms. The house was silent, its peaceful atmosphere wrapping around them with sense of solidity Vivien could almost touch. She meant every word she’d said to Aden. Life in this house and in St. Clement had become a precious gift, and she dreaded the day when it would end.