Chapter 21 #2
“I actually grew angry with you. Your tone was very high-handed. I did not care for it at all.”
“Let us hope the woman below heard every word.”
“What if we are wrong? What if she has nothing to do with any of it?”
“Then we will find another way to discover who does.” He gave her a kiss. “I must go. You have just thrown me out, remember?”
He used heavy steps on the stairs, and frowned hard as he left the building. He strode away, then waited for Padua at the carriage.
She took some time to arrive. He grew annoyed, then worried. Finally she walked around the corner.
“What were you doing?” he demanded.
“I finished looking in the schoolbooks. You missed twenty pounds.” She shook her reticule. “That was careless of you.”
“This was not the time.”
“It was an excellent time. Between your leaving and my leaving, someone else left.” She climbed into the carriage. “I think you were correct about her.”
He settled onto the other seat. “Let us hope so. Take your supper in your chamber this evening. I will join you early, in case we have had success.”
* * *
They held vigil that night.
Padua ate her supper, then they played cards. When that bored them, they read. The hours passed slowly. No one came to her chamber door. No messages arrived.
Padua considered that her chamber was big enough for one, but not two. Unless the two were in bed, that was. They could not occupy themselves that way, however.
She took pleasure just being with Ives. She hoped he felt the same about her.
This was, she realized, the longest they had been in each other’s company like this, not even talking, sharing silent companionship.
It created a domestic intimacy that she enjoyed.
She tucked it away as a memory for later in her life, when she needed some cozy warmth.
After midnight, Ives grew restless. She could tell he doubted matters would develop as quickly as he had assumed. The chamber became even smaller then. Ives at peace took up less space than Ives agitated and impatient. He did not actually do anything different, but his spirit churned and roiled.
They had begun to give up that it would be this night, when a scratch sounded on her door. Both of them snapped alert. Ives moved silently to the wall behind her door, then nodded.
They had rehearsed what she would do and say, assuming the demands were those they anticipated. She opened the door a crack and looked out.
A man stood there. A stranger. The door to the stairs remained ajar. He had entered the way she did, and Mrs. Lavender would be none the wiser.
He had known where to find her. He had learned that from someone in this house.
“You are Belvoir’s daughter.” He spoke lowly, with a thick Cornish accent.
“Who are you?”
“Never you mind. You’ve something that’s ours, or know where it is. I’ll be needing that information now.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She made to close the door.
His boot, heavy and big, stopped her. He thrust it into the opening on the floor. He bent closer. “You don’t want to be causing trouble. A bit of iron and copper won’t help your father. If you turn it over, you will only ensure he hangs.”
“If I turn it over to you, what will I get instead?”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You think I have something you want. If I give it to you, I expect something in return.”
“You are blackmailing us?” He appeared incredulous.
“I am negotiating. Here are my terms. I want two thousand pounds. The real kind, not the kind printed up at night. It is a good bargain for you. Rebuilding your trade will cost much more.”
He scratched his chin. “I’ll be needing to talk this over with the others. I will come back tomorrow or the next day or so.”
The tiniest tap on her elbow made Padua ease back enough to see Ives out of the corner of her eye. He shook his head.
She thought fast. “If you must do that, you are not the one making decisions. Tell him, whoever he is, that I will only bargain with him so we can make quick work of this.”
“That is not how he likes to do things.”
“It is the only way he will get what I have. If he does not agree by week’s end, I will hand it all to the local magistrate, and take my chances.”
He shook his head. He gave her a stare full of disdain. “Just like that, you sell your father. What kind of daughter are you?”
She felt her face warming, but she held her hard pose and expression. “The kind who would rather have two thousand in good notes than even thirty thousand of the amateurish forgeries you print up. I want this settled by week’s end, or I will become a dutiful daughter again.”
She closed the door in his face, and held her breath. Neither she nor Ives moved a hair for a long time. Then, on his nod, she opened the door again and peered out. The man had left.
“Do you think he will return tomorrow night?” she asked.
“Two nights hence, or three is more likely. It sounded like the man we want is not in London. He will have to journey here.”
“At least it is not Mrs. Lavender.”
“She may still know of it. She may use the bad money in that office of hers.” One of his eyebrows went up. “I just realized I may know how to find out if she does.” He turned her around and began unfastening her dress.
She waited until he was done. “It does not appear I will need protection tonight. Or until two nights hence, at least, you said.”
He turned her to face him. He looked down, his hands still on her shoulders. “I have grown accustomed to it, but I will leave if you want.”
She did not want that. It had taken all her strength to say what she had. She had grown accustomed to having him beside her too. Too much so, she feared. It had become normal. Expected. She wondered if she could even sleep now without his arm slung over her the way it was all night.
“If you don’t mind that narrow bed and cold water for the first washing, I am glad if you stay.”
Later, while she thought he slept but she stayed awake storing memories, he spoke into the peaceful space. “I want you to stay at Langley House tomorrow night.”
“You are not sure I will be safe here?”
“It is not that. I truly think nothing will happen for at least two days.”
“Then . . . ?”
“It would be nice to use a good bed for one night.”
She had to laugh. “What? You do not find this one comfortable? You are not sleeping well?”
“It isn’t the sleeping so much that is limited.”
“I would have said you managed the other more than well enough, my lord.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He sounded pleased with himself. “A resourceful mind can always find a way. However, a night of comfort is still called for. For your sake, I mean. We will join the others for a good dinner, and you will remain there as a guest.”
“I would not mind being spoiled for a night.”
“Good. We will feed you delicacies, and put you to bed beneath lovely drapes, surrounded by soft pillows. And I will spend the night spoiling you without mercy.” He turned on his side, then tucked her back against his body. She nestled close, and felt the evidence that he would not sleep soon.
Kisses on her back ensured she would not either.
That possessive arm moved until its hand could fondle her breasts, then caressed lower to raise her nightdress.
Experienced, efficient touches aroused her quickly.
When she was dizzy with pleasure, he bent one of her knees up in front of her body and pressed into her.
She smiled at the welcomed fullness. “How . . . resourceful.”
“More than you know. Here, I will show you.” He demonstrated how he could reach her breasts and elsewhere easily, and how the front of her body remained available to him.
“How wonderful,” she managed to say despite her short, shallow breaths. “It was naughty of you to save one of the best for last.”
“Not quite the last, Padua.”
Much later, when they were again entwined and he truly slept, she wondered if he had spoken of the way they joined, or when they would part.