Wicked Delights Of A Bridal Bed Page 12

  Hell and damnation, she really is going to kill me, he thought as he stood and moved to stretch out on the empty side of her bed.

  “Shoes,” she reminded.

  He gave a little growl low in his throat, then toed off his dress leathers. Swinging his legs up, he leaned his back against the pillows, refusing to fully recline on the bed. He folded his arms over his chest. “Close enough now?”

  She met his gaze and gave a little nod. “Thank you, Adam.”

  His anger melted away, even if his erotic frustration did not. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

  Nodding again, she closed her eyes.

  I’ll leave as soon as she drifts off, he told himself.

  Five minutes passed, then ten.

  He began to ease away when she woke, murmuring his name under her breath. With a groan, he relaxed back again, letting himself slide lower on the pillows. Clearly drowsy, Mallory rolled onto her side, facing him. Half-asleep, she reached out and laid her fingers against his arm. Calling himself a dozen times a fool, he covered her hand with his own. A happy sigh escaped her lips as she burrowed deeper into her pillow.

  Another five minutes, and she would be fast asleep. Another ten, and the half hour would be up.

  A yawn caught him as he waited, the candle burning lower in its holder, the room nearly dark. Mallory’s breathing grew even. His breathing slowed as well, his eyelids beginning to droop.

  Not much longer, and I’ll leave, he thought. Only a couple of minutes more.

  Then, without his full awareness, he fell asleep.

  Mallory snuggled deeper into the pillows, blissfully relaxed and contented. Adam was sleeping at her side, his large body offering her a perfect haven of peace and serenity. She’d asked him to stay, and he had. Smiling, she rolled over and tucked her cheek against his shoulder, the material of his shirt warm and fragrant with the boldly masculine scent of his skin. He shifted beneath her, his long arm curving across her back to hold her close. Reassured by his presence, she let herself sink into a gentle, refreshing slumber where she knew no nightmares would intrude.

  Some while later, she awakened to the sound of Adam cursing softly under his breath. “Damnation,” he muttered, as he slowly eased away from her.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” she murmured sleepily.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said in a hushed tone. “Go back to sleep.”

  Still groggy, the urgency in his tone made no sense. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly dawn, and I’ve got to leave before the servants begin their day. I would have left ages ago if I hadn’t fallen asleep. Damn, where are my shoes?”

  Lying in the dark, she listened to him search for his missing footwear. When he had no initial luck, he resumed his seat on the bed and reached out to light a candle. He’d just struck the flint when a soft knock came at the door.

  She and Adam both froze and looked at each other over the flickering light. Immediately, he blew out the flame.

  “Don’t answer,” he whispered. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

  Instead, the door opened on silent hinges, a new pool of golden candlelight proceeding whoever it was coming into the room. Mallory’s heart knocked against her ribs, the last of her sleepiness dropping away in an instant.

  Adam can’t be found here, she realized, wishing there was someplace he could hide. But he was too big to fit under the bed, and tossing the covers over him wouldn’t do any good at all—only imagine the great lump he would leave.

  “Mallory?” called a gentle voice. “It’s me, Grace. I’m sorry to wake you, but I have news that couldn’t wait. Meg’s in labour, and I thought you would want to know—Oh!”

  Tall, red-haired Grace Byron, still attired in her night wrapper, came to an abrupt halt at the foot of the bed. The light from her candle was near enough now to cast a circle of illumination over the bed—and the two of them on it.

  Grace stared, her blue-grey eyes round as an owl’s.

  Mallory and Adam stared back.

  Adam was the first to break the tension. “Lady Cade’s having the baby, is she?” he repeated with aplomb. As though aware of the futility of struggling against the situation, he leaned back against the pillows and crossed his arms.

  For her part, Mallory couldn’t move at all.

  “Y-yes,” Grace said. “Her pains began a short while ago and she…she…what are you two doing together?” She waved a palm in the air. “No, don’t answer that. It’s rather obvious what you’re…that is…oh, good heavens!”

  “It’s not what you think,” Mallory said, finding her voice.

  “Not what who thinks?” asked a new voice as Jack strode into the room. “Did you tell her about Meg? Mama’s in with her now, and Cade says he’s not so sure he should have given up drinking since he could do with a dram about now—Bloody hell! Adam? Is that you?”

  “Good morning, Jack,” Adam greeted calmly, as if they were meeting over the buffet in the breakfast room rather than inside Mallory’s bedchamber.

  “What in the blazes are you doing in here?” Jack demanded. “At this hour of the morning? And in my sister’s bed no less!”

  A heavy silence descended, the usually soft ticking of the mantel clock growing loud as a gong, or so it seemed to Mallory.

  With a casual style she could only admire, Adam crossed his stocking feet at the ankles. “Would you believe I was comforting her?” he said.

  Jack’s gaze shot from one to the other of them. “Comforting her! Is that what you call it? Why you—”

  “Adam was comforting me,” Mallory interrupted. “I couldn’t sleep, and he came to help.”

  Mallory shivered as her brother’s eyes narrowed. “Help, is it? Well, I don’t much care for his kind of help.” Jack’s palms bunched into fists at his sides as he glared at Adam. “Did you touch her?”

  Adam met his friend’s look, clearly unfazed. “Whatever your sister and I did, or did not do, is none of your business. It’s between her and me, and it’s private.”

  Jack bristled. “Private! By God, it’s not private, not when it has to do with my little sister. So, did you?”

  When Adam refused to answer, Jack’s gaze shot to Mallory. “You can tell me, Pell-Mell,” he said, using her old nickname in an understanding voice. “I promise I won’t be angry. Did he touch you?”

  She opened her mouth to say no, but before the word had a chance to form, memories of the heated kisses and passionate caresses she’d shared with Adam raced through her mind. Her nipples peaked, aching anew as she thought of Adam touching her breasts and the enthralling sensation of his mouth drawing pleasurably upon her. Before she could prevent the reaction, her skin grew hot, her cheeks burning like fireplace coals.

  “Why you underhanded bastard!” Jack roared. “And to think I trusted you with her. To think all of us, the whole family, let you go off alone with her these past couple of weeks. Here we were imagining her safe in your company, when all the while you were working your schemes on her. I thought you were her friend. Instead, you wanted nothing more than to seduce her into your bed.”

  “Actually, I believe this is her bed,” Adam replied smoothly.

  A muscle ticked near Jack’s eye. “Don’t be flippant.”

  “And don’t you be a hypocrite.”

  Grace sent her husband a rueful glance. “I suppose he does have a bit of a point, darling.”

  To Mallory’s surprise, a faint flush spread up Jack’s throat, the muscle in his cheek giving another tic. “No, he doesn’t, since this isn’t about me. And don’t try changing the subject.”

  “Is that what I was doing?” Adam drawled.

  “Sometimes, Gresham…” Jack pounded a fist into his palm, looking like he’d rather be pounding it into something—or rather someone—else.

  “Look, Jack,” Adam said with a sigh, “before you burst a vein in that hard head of yours, why don’t you give me a chance to explain—”

  “Explain! Explain what?” Jack to
ssed back. “I believe I’ve heard more than enough already, especially with the evidence staring me right in the eyes.”

  “Now, Jack,” Grace said, reaching out to wrap a hand around his arm. “Perhaps you should give Adam a chance—”

  “I don’t need to give him anything except an opportunity to name his seconds. I ought to call you out for this, you know. I ought to put a bloody bullet in you since it’s no more than you deserve.”

  Adam sat up on the bed, his jaw tilted at a pugnacious angle. “You’re certainly welcome to try.”

  “Stop it! Both of you,” Mallory cried, flinging out an arm toward Adam as if to protect him. “There will be no talk of duels or bloodshed.”

  Obviously aware how upset she was, Adam leaned toward her. “He’s just angry, Mal. He’s not really serious.”

  “Speak for yourself, Gresham,” Jack retorted.

  “Jack!” Grace admonished.

  Tears sprang into Mallory’s eyes, a knot of misery lodging in her chest. “Hasn’t there been enough violence and death already with this horrible war? I l-l-lost Michael. I won’t lose either of you, certainly not over something as stupid as a duel of honour. Don’t you dare say such dreadful things to each other. D-don’t you d-dare let any of this come between you when you’ve always been such good friends. I won’t have it. I won’t be the cause…”

  She broke off, crying now in earnest. Adam’s arms came around her and pulled her against his chest.

  “Now, look what you’ve done,” Adam accused, hugging her closer. “Get out, Byron, before you upset her anymore.”

  “I believe you’re the one who should leave,” Jack shot back.

  “I’m not going anywhere, not with Mallory in tears. If you want words, we can have them later when—”

  “God’s nightgown, what is all this racket going on?” demanded a deep, authoritative voice, which clearly belonged to Edward. “Some of the guests are beginning to gather outside in the corridor.”

  Hearing her eldest brother’s words, Mallory cried harder.

  “And I thought Meg’s giving birth was enough of an uproar for one morning.” Edward paused. “Gresham, is that you?”

  “Good morning, Clybourne,” Adam replied. “I wondered when you might happen along.”

  Well imagining the expression that must be on Ned’s face, she half expected Adam to set her aside. Instead, he continued holding her within the comforting circle of his arms. Drawing a shuddering breath, she tried to stop weeping, but the tears flowed freely in spite of her best efforts.

  “Given the circumstances,” Edward said, “I don’t believe I need to ask the cause of the dispute. However, this is neither the time nor place to resolve the situation—”

  “I’ll resolve it,” Jack interrupted. “With my fists.”

  Adam tensed, as more tears leaked down Mallory’s cheeks. “What did I say about upsetting her,” he warned.

  “And what did I say about taking your damned hands off her—”

  “Gentlemen, that is quite enough—” Edward declared in an icy tone.

  “Jiminy!” a new voice piped from the doorway.

  “And Jehoshaphat!” echoed another that sounded remarkably like the first.

  Oh mercy, Mallory thought. Now the twins are here. Is the whole family going to end up in my bedchamber?

  She had her answer a second later when she heard more footsteps enter the room, including one set that was slightly uneven. “What are you all doing in here?” Cade asked. “The doctor just arrived for Meg and—why the deuce is Gresham in bed with Mallory?”

  “I believe that is what’s known as a rhetorical question,” Drake observed.

  Mortified that all six of her brothers were now in the room, Mallory wished she could sink into the floor—or pull the covers over her head at least. Instead, she accepted the monogrammed handkerchief Adam pressed into her palm and buried her face in the silk.

  “That’s two kerchiefs you owe me now, or is it three?” he whispered so only she could hear. “Don’t worry, Mal. Everything will be fine.”

  But how could anything be fine, she wondered, when they’d landed so deep in the suds?

  “Do you know that half the houseguests are standing in the hall?” Claire asked, as she joined the gathering. “What in heaven’s name are you all doing in here when Meg is—Oh!”

  Mallory didn’t need to lift her head to know she and Adam had been spotted.

  “Exactly,” Edward said. “Now we’ve all seen enough, and clearly the guests have heard enough, so it’s time everyone moved along.”

  “But, Ned, you can’t just let this go,” Jack complained, re-joining the conversation.

  “Certainly not. Honour demands Gresham do the proper thing by our girl,” Cade said.

  The twins and Drake gave murmurs of agreement.

  “I am sure he will,” Edward stated in a calm-yet-uncompromising tone. “Later. For now, Meg and the new baby should be everyone’s main focus. And breakfast for those of you who have the stomach to eat, which I don’t believe includes Cade given his present colouring. Coffee for him, I think. Black, no sugar. Drake, Jack, go with your brother.”

  Mallory lowered the handkerchief enough to see the men cast severe, this-isn’t-over-yet looks at Adam. Jack brushed a kiss across Grace’s cheek and murmured something to her before he left with his brothers.

  “As for you two,” Edward said to the twins, “I’m sure you can find some other means of occupying yourselves.” Her younger brothers shared conspiratorial grins, obviously already planning some mischief she hoped wouldn’t land them in trouble too.

  “My dear,” Edward said to Claire, “perhaps you could ring for Mallory’s maid so she might dress, then all of you ladies can join Meg.”

  Claire nodded, while Grace slipped out so she could change her attire as well.

  “Gresham, I shall see you in my study after breakfast,” Edward stated. “Nine o’clock, shall we say?”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Adam replied with ease. “Nine it is.”

  Turning on his heel, Edward strode into the now-empty corridor—the guests apparently having had the good sense to disperse as well.

  Then it was just Mallory and Adam once more, Claire being kind enough to give them a moment of privacy by strolling across to stand in front of the windows at the far end of the bedroom.

  “Adam, I’m sorry—” Mallory began, her voice husky with tears.

  “Shh,” he said, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “You have no need to be sorry. I told you it’s going to be all right.”

  “But—”

  He laid a finger across her lips. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” Despite Claire’s presence in the room, he removed his finger and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her mouth. “Get dressed, have something to eat, then go see Meg. We shall talk later.”

  “Oh, Adam—”

  “Look, here’s Penny now,” he said, as her maid crossed into the room, a surprised expression on the servant’s face. Casually, as if he spent every night in Mallory’s bed, he stood and looked for his shoes, which he found easily given all the sunlight now creeping through the windows. As dressed as he was going to be with no cravat or jacket, he bent again and pressed his lips to hers for a tender, reassuring kiss.

  Ears buzzing, she barely heard her maid’s gasp of astonishment.

  Then Adam was gone.

  Clutching his dampened handkerchief in her fist, she stared across at Claire.

  “Black coffee for us both, Penny,” the duchess said. “I think we’re all going to need it.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Zachary George Byron made his entrance into the world just after six o’clock that evening, unleashing a healthy wail that echoed throughout the house. Having helped attend Meg through the long hours of labour and birth, Mallory was weary, but satisfied, unable to feel anything other than joy at having witnessed the arrival of her newest nephew.

  Across the room, Meg no
w lay dozing, Cade seated beside the bed, his wife’s hand clasped securely inside his own. On his face was an expression of relief and happiness as he watched her sleep.

  Poor Cade had looked pale as a ghost during the height of Meg’s labour, Mallory recalled, her brother arriving at the bedroom door to see if his wife was dying. Claire, Grace and Mama had been trying to reassure him that all was well when Meg let loose a string of curses that would have made even her late father, the Admiral, blush. Ten minutes later, with Cade at her side, their second son was born.

  While the new parents were celebrating, Mallory had gone into the hallway to share the good news with her brothers. To her surprise, she found Adam with them, seemingly at ease despite that morning’s explosive row in her bedchamber.

  It was the first time since then that she’d seen Adam. Apparently his talk with Edward must have gone well, she thought. Or well enough anyway that her brothers had called a truce rather than decide to lock him up in the medieval dungeon that lay beneath the house. She didn’t know if that boded good or ill, and with all the excitement over the baby, she didn’t have the opportunity to speak alone with Adam to find out.

  After a few brief, admiring peeks at little Zachary—who, Meg admitted, would not be called Neville, Orson or Oswald—the men dragged Cade downstairs to drink a congratulatory toast and smoke cheroots. Ravenously hungry, the ladies repaired to the family dining room for a late dinner, Ava remaining behind with Meg.

  Now at nearly eleven o’clock, Mallory returned to look in on Meg and the baby. After a quiet knock, she went inside the bedroom and found her sister-in-law asleep. Cade sat in a chair beside her holding Meg’s hand, the baby swaddled safely in dreams where he lay inside his great, hand-carved mahogany cradle.

  Tiptoeing back out, she closed the door soundlessly behind her, turned and jumped. “Adam! Gracious, where did you come from?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a quiet voice before sending a nod toward the door. “Everyone doing well?”

  “Quite well,” she said. “I won’t be surprised if Meg is up tomorrow and introducing Max to his little brother.”