"Ah. I am more than happy to help." A flicker of mischief gleamed in his eyes. "Say 'Thank you, Robert.' "

A tiny answering smile jerked at her lips. She should say no. But she simply could not. "Thank you, Robert."

"Say ‘I’ll wear the golden gown tonight.' "

"I'll wear the golden gown tonight," she whispered.

"Say 'and all evening long I'll think about how you are going to take it off me, then make love to me.' "

God help her, how could she refuse to say something that was so completely, undeniably true? Yet how could she verbalize such a confession… words such as she'd never uttered before? Still, almost of their own volition, her lips moved. "And all evening long I'll think about how you are going to take it off me, then make love to me."

His eyes darkened with a naked heat so raw she felt engulfed in flames. Releasing her hands, he slipped his arms around her, pulling her closer, until his hard body touched her from chest to knee.

As he lowered his mouth toward hers, she planted her hands against his chest to halt his progress. "Robert, I feel compelled to point out that this is probably not a good idea."

"On the contrary. I think it is an excellent idea." A mixture of heat and mischief sparkled in his eyes. "And really, quite unstoppable. I simply must kiss you."

"But what if Caroline returns with the children?"

"She won't. They're having biscuits, then picking flowers. Believe me, once Emily and James are in the conservatory, they'll run about the rows of plants for hours playing hide-and-seek. Lily has her own private nursery, near Elizabeth's bedchamber. And the door here is locked. We are very much alone."

"I see. Well, in that case…" She rose up on her toes and their lips met in a lush, openmouthed kiss. He tasted of coffee and heat, of man, and his own unique flavor that stirred her senses, bringing a purr of pleasure to her throat.

Everything faded away but him and the delight she felt under the onslaught of his sensual kiss… A kiss that quickly burned into so much more. His hands caressed down her back, then forward to cup her breasts. Her nipples beaded into aching points of need, and she pressed herself closer to him, seeking more of his touch.

Her fingers became restless, frantic things, fluttering butterflies seeking a place to land in a windstorm. His erection pressed against her belly, coiling need straight to her core. She slipped her hand between them and stroked her open palm down the front of his breeches, over his hard ridge of flesh.

He broke off their kiss and sucked in a sharp breath. "Allie…" He rested his forehead against hers, his ragged breath beating warm against her face. Feeling wicked and bold and empowered by his response, she ran her hand over him again, slowly. A long, low moan rumbled in his throat.

"I feel it only fair to warn you," he said in a voice rough with arousal, "that if you continue to touch me like that, you will not get out of this room… unscathed."

"Oh, my," she breathed, deliberately tickling her fingertips over the head of his erection. "What exactly do you mean by… unscathed?"

"God help you, you're about to find out." And with those few words, he simply took her over. His mouth came down on hers with devouring intensity. His tongue slid past her lips, stroking her mouth deeply, slowly, with a devastating rhythm that perfectly mimicked how her body ached to join with his.

Breaking their kiss, he pressed a trail of kisses down her neck, while his hands made quick work of removing her fichu. His lips wandered lower, over the tops of her breasts, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out in frustration at the barrier of clothing between them. Her hands wreaked havoc with his hair, pressing him closer, while she drowned in sensation.

With a low groan, he lifted her against him, then strode quickly to the sofa where he lowered her to the cushion, following her down. His impatient hands tugged at her bodice, freeing her breasts, and she gasped when he immediately drew one of her aching nipples into his heated mouth, his tongue swirling over her sensitive flesh.

She tried to catch her breath, but it was impossible with his mouth and tongue teasing her breasts while his hand worked its way under her gown and slid up her leg. She squirmed beneath him, spreading her thighs, lifting her hips to give him easier access, while her hands clutched at his shoulders. Her feminine flesh felt hot and heavy and wet, and if he didn't touch her soon-

Robert's fingers skimmed over her swollen folds, and the last remaining ounce of control he'd managed to cling to, vanished. She arched against his hand, a long moan of satisfaction rumbling in her throat. Rising to kneel between her splayed thighs, he pushed her gown to her waist, reveling in the erotic sight of his fingers playing with her glistening flesh, of her hips undulating as passion consumed her, her nipples still wet and erect from his mouth. He eased first one, then two fingers inside her, clenching his teeth when her silky heat surrounded him. The scent of her arousal, mixed with the delicate fragrance of honeysuckle, inundated his senses, and his erection jerked inside his confining breeches. With his other hand, he quickly freed himself.

He wanted to wait, wanted to prolong their pleasure, touch her, taste her, but as it had last night, his mastery over his own body deserted him. He needed to be inside her. Now.

He slipped his fingers from her, and would have smiled at her cry of protest if he'd been able. Surging over her, he slid into her tight, wet heat in a single stroke. Any thoughts he might have entertained of going slowly evaporated when she raced her hands down his back to his buttocks, urging him deeper into her body. Bracing his weight on his forearms, he thrust into her with hard, fast strokes. Sweat broke out along his brow, and he looked down at her. Her head was thrown back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. Her eyes were shut, her lips parted, her breath a series of ragged pants that matched his own.

"Ohhhh," she breathed, and he watched her orgasm claim her, felt her body tense, her inner walls clutching him, pushing him over the edge with her. With an animal-like growl, he threw his head back and thrust into her, spilling his seed deep in her body. He pulsed inside her for an endless, mindless moment, then collapsed, burying his face in the fragrant curve of her neck, pressing his lips against her jumping pulse.

It took several moments for sanity to return, for him to garner enough strength to raise his head. Their gazes met and his heart performed a slow roll at the warm, satisfied glow in her eyes.

There were a dozen things he wanted to say to her, tell her, but he hesitated, partly because he was not sure she was ready to hear them, and also because he wasn't yet capable of speech. So he said the one word he could manage to push past his lips.

"Allie."

She blinked twice, then a slow smile eased across her face, reminding him of the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Here was his girl from the sketch. She whispered one word in reply.

"Robert."

He felt himself grinning in return, unable to hide his happiness. She was his. And nothing, no one, would keep them apart.


********

In her bedchamber, Allie had just finished repairing herself after her sensual interlude with Robert, when a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in."

A middle-aged maid bearing a bright smile and a ceramic pitcher entered.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Mrs. Brown. My name's Mary. I were just wantin' to bring some fresh water and see to tidyin' up. I can come back later."

"Hello, Mary. Please come in." She was about to add that she herself was about to leave the bedchamber, when something stopped her. With her bright cheeks and wide grin, Mary struck her as a friendly sort. Perhaps the friendly sort of woman who might be led to answer some questions…

Her conscience tapped her firmly on the shoulder. Not even an hour ago you were furious with Robert for being dishonest. Trying to glean information from this woman is hardly honest.

She slapped back her inner voice, rationalizing that there was a distinct difference between dishonesty and curiosity about the man she'd taken as her lover. And she was merely…curious. Besides, the maid might not know anything.

She engaged Mary in small talk regarding the rainy weather and the new baby, as the woman bustled around the room wielding her feather duster with energetic efficiency. Then Allie led the conversation around to Elizabeth and the duke.

"Fine people. Not hoity-toity as the Quality often can be," Mary said, her mobcap swaying as she fluffed the bed pillows. " 'Course, the whole family is the first water. I've been here at Bradford Hall for twenty years, you know."

"So you've known the duke and his siblings since they were children."

"Indeed. Smart as whips, every one of them." A chuckle passed her lips. "But the youngest, Lord Robert, now he were a caution, that one. Always gettin' into some sort of mischief. But a more lovable boy ye'd be hard-pressed to find."

Allie's heart pounded at the conversational opening Mary had unwittingly handed her. Forcing aside the guilt once again nudging her, she said, "Yes, he's very charming." She lowered her voice and added in a halting voice, "Of course, it's too bad… about what happened…"

Molly looked confused for several seconds, then her eyes widened. "So ye know about the fire?" She made a tsking sound and frowned. "Can't believe folks still talk about it, it happened so long ago."

Fire? "A terrible tragedy," Allie murmured.

A disgruntled harrumph sounded from Mary. "Don't care what anyone else says, 'twas a youthful indiscretion gone bad, if you ask me. That boy wouldn't hurt no one on purpose, not ever. And he made all the reparations, just like he promised. 'Course, no one hardly mentions it anymore as it's been four years. And the family don't discuss it at all."

"Perfectly understandable," Allie managed to say, her head spinning with Mary's unwitting revelations. Was Robert guilty of some sort of criminal act?

"All's tidy here, Mrs. Brown. I'll leave you now."

"Thank you, Mary."

The maid quit the room and Allie pressed her fingers to her temples, where a headache was rapidly forming. Thankfully she was standing close to the wing chair near the fireplace and required only a few jerky steps to sink onto the cushion. Surely she should not feel as if someone had cut her legs off at the knees. Yet she did.

Mary had mentioned a fire. And reparations. What were the details surrounding this incident? And how was Robert involved-for clearly he had been in some way. Something tickled her memory, and she suddenly recalled Robert's odd reaction when Lady Gaddlestone had mentioned a fire during their tea at The Blue Iris. What had he done? A shiver of dread gripped her, and she wrapped her arms around her middle to ward off the sudden chill. Clearly there was more to the man she'd asked to be her lover than she had anticipated. Should she follow Elizabeth's advice and ask him? Did she really want to know the answers? And if she did ask him, would he tell her the truth? Or, like David, would he lie, or evade her questions?

Get a hold on yourself, Allie. It's not as if you're going to marry him. Did his past really matter? The man was her lover. Nothing more. It was not necessary to know every facet of his life.

She drew a deep, calming breath. As long as she kept her heart uninvolved, his past and secrets did not matter. She would allow him to engage her body and nothing else.


*********

Geoffrey Hadmore sat in his usual leather chair in White's. He'd just lifted his brandy snifter to his lips when a commotion near the betting book captured his attention.

"The official announcement arrived from Bradford just this morning," proclaimed Lord Astley. "The duchess was delivered of a girl yesterday." A smug smile curved over Astley's face. "Lots of money going to be changing hands on that one."

Geoffrey sipped his brandy and turned a deaf ear to the crowd gathering around the betting book. So the duchess had her baby. Excellent. Everyone's attention at Bradford Hall would be focused on the newest edition, allowing Redfern more freedom to accomplish his task. And allowing Geoffrey himself more freedom to accomplish his.

A slow smile pulled at his lips. Bringing the newest member of the Bradford household a gift was an excellent excuse to visit the estate.

Chapter 17