Mystery, murder, and an old menace. It's enough to damage the strongest love.
eBook ISBN ·
Publisher · Samhain Publishing
Genre · Sensual Historical Romance
Length · Full Length Novel
Lord and Lady Strang return from their adventure-filled honeymoon, more than ready to settle into married life. After a few weeks living in his parents’ Piccadilly mansion, Richard and Rose are restless for their own home, a space where they can work out the pattern of their new life together.
House-hunting will have to wait. A maid in the household of Rose’s aunt has been murdered, an act that forces Richard to reveal a dark secret from his past. Despite the desperate passion they share, marriage requires disclosure—something at which Richard has never excelled.
In light of his revelation, Rose must find the strength to delve deep into the bedrock of their relationship while simultaneously facing the height of London society. As they work to unravel the clues that lead to a murderer, an old enemy launches an attack on their already fragile hearts…
Richard and Rose, Book 4 |
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Waking the next morning was the same as waking anywhere else with Richard. Blissful. So good when waking up is better than dreaming. I woke early but it was still relatively dark, so I snuggled into my husband’s warmth.
Hearing a movement, I assumed it was my maid. I opened my eyes to ask her what time it was and discovered that it wasn’t Nichols but a housemaid I had never seen before, presumably come to light the fire. She stood in the middle of the floor and stared at us, her mouth open and eyes wide in complete astonishment.
I stared at her sleepily in the dim light of early morning. We stared at each other. The girl looked young, dressed in clothes evidently meant for someone larger than she. Her mob cap almost completely covered her face.
I forced sleep away. “Is there something wrong?”
Richard stirred in his sleep and turned over, his arms reaching for me. When I evaded him, he murmured, “What is it, sweetheart?” before he, too, opened his eyes and followed my gaze.
Richard broke the impasse. With a smooth movement that didn’t even make the sheets rustle, he sat up in bed. “Do I know you?” He made no effort to hide his nakedness, although the sheets covered him below his waist.
The maid blushed fiery red. “N-no, my lord. I was only taken on last month.”
Richard disposed his hands gracefully on the sheets before him, as in control as if dressed in full Court rig. “We don’t allow anyone in here but our own body servants. You’d better convey the information to the housekeeper as soon as you can. I don’t want this episode repeated.”
The little maid dipped a quick curtsey. “Y-yes, my lord.” She fled, closing the door behind her.
Ignoring my giggle, Richard turned to the nightstand to consult the watch he’d laid there. “Half past seven,” he informed me, coming back to my arms. “Do you know what woke me then?”
“The maid?”
“No.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “When I reached for you, you pushed me away. I can’t remember you ever doing that before.”
“I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” I smiled up at him, enjoying, as I always did, the sight of his fine-drawn features, the warmth in his blue eyes. I pulled him closer for a proper kiss. “What made her so surprised?”
He frowned. “She’s probably not used to finding people in bed together in this house.” He touched my cheek. “I’ll make enquiries about her. It’s not usual for my orders to be disobeyed and I’m sure I told them to leave us alone until we got up.”
“I thought you—you knew her.”
He frowned, then his face cleared and he laughed. “Good God, no! She can’t be very old.” He shook his head. “Perhaps once, when I was younger. But not since I met you. You know that don’t you?”
I met his frank, anxious gaze with one of my own. “Oh yes. I know that now.” Although my wretched feelings of inadequacy chased me every time Richard paid attention to a lovely woman, that was my problem, not his.
“When did you first—you know?”
“When did I lose my virginity? I was fourteen.”
“Fourteen?” This surprised me, despite knowing that he’d once tried to work his way through the female population of London.
“A housemaid, older than I was, seduced me. It seems to be the usual way. At least, a lot of my contemporaries went the same way.” A frown appeared between his brows. “Does it bother you?”
I considered. “Not at all.” I always tried to be truthful with him. “Perhaps it should but I have a feeling you developed your appetites early.”
He laughed fondly. “And you, my love, did the right thing and waited, as any good maiden should.” He stroked my face again, so gently I hardly felt it. I moved my head to one side and kissed his hand.
“Not for marriage, though.” I’d become his mistress before we married but I was his, all his.
His clear blue gaze caressed my face. “Well, you’re well and truly married now, my lady, and there are certain duties you’re required to endure.” He moved his body over mine.
I shifted a little, to make it easier for him. “What time will they expect us to get up?”
“Who cares?” He kissed me, long and slow. “When we’re ready. Are you ready?”
I flexed my body under him. “Not to get up.” He laughed and moved, making me sigh in contentment. “But I’m ready.”
I responded eagerly to his loving. As always he was both considerate and passionate, sensual and exciting, pushing me to my own heights before he sought his and then sank down into my arms. I shut my eyes and felt his closeness.
I rested my hand on the back of his head. He kept his fair hair short but it still sprang into tight waves. I felt the silky softness and enjoyed the peace that comes after making love.
Eventually he lifted his head and took his weight on his elbows. He studied me. “I’ll never get used to this.”
“What?”
“The love you give me. I don’t deserve any of it but I’m so glad you decided to make me your beneficiary.” He kissed me lingeringly and then moved his weight and gathered me close.
“Your father is disappointed in me. I should be big with his son’s heir by now.” I caressed his chest with my palm.
“He’s not too downcast. It’s only been six months.”
“A year, really.”
He smiled. “No. The few times we made love before we married were isolated and we would have been unlucky—or lucky. I know we have to do this to satisfy the family but it’s you I want, not our progeny. I don’t even know how I’ll feel about them when they finally arrive—if they ever do.” He paused, kissed my shoulder. “And in any case, it may be my fault. I was always careful with everyone but you. I’ve never heard of any bastards of mine. I won’t have you worried about it or pressured and my father knows that.”
“What do you mean, careful?”
“I can withdraw, just before I come.”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
He kissed me. “With you, my sweet life, it’s an impossibility. I did try, in Exeter that time, do you remember?”
“No.”
He laughed softly. “I’m not surprised. But I did try. I’d never been so out of control before.”
I snuggled in. “I wanted to give myself to you but I didn’t expect what I received in return.” I would have dozed again but the door opened and this time it was Nichols to light the fire. I never knew how she and Carier timed their entrances so well because they had never interrupted us making love, not once. Or maybe we just hadn’t noticed.
We let the fire warm the room, getting our warmth from each other instead. I remembered how hot it had been in Rome and how we only covered ourselves with sheets and slept separated because of the heat. Then I compared that time with today, the chills of autumn already upon us, covered snugly with blankets and a thick quilt. I preferred it this way but I thought the beggars in Rome were probably better off in that respect than our own London indigents.
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