Noble chuckled as he shucked his breeches, then slid both hands along Gillian’s legs, spreading her for him. “I meant it was good Nick is enjoying London.”
“Oh, yes, that.” Gillian watched as Noble began kissing her thighs, her thoughts as scattered as dandelion seed in a storm. Was he going to…would he do what he did last night? That thing with his tongue? Oh, lord, he was going to. She grabbed onto the carpet beneath her and felt her back arch as Noble’s hot breath steamed over her most private area. “He told me he was happy here, and I wanted you to know…to know…oh dear heaven, Noble, don’t stop!”
He didn’t. Not until she bucked beneath him, clutching his hair as she called his name over and over again when he lifted her to a height she hadn’t known possible. He rose up over her, settling between her thighs, gazing at her flushed face and passion-filled emerald eyes.
Noble’s last coherent thought just before he plunged into his wife’s sweet depths was that he hoped to God none of the servants would choose that moment to open the door. He didn’t think he could stop, not even if the entire staff trooped in to watch.
“What did you mean he told you he was happy here?”
Gillian, squashed up against her husband’s chest, sated, drowsy, happier than she’d ever been, lifted her head from where it lay on his biceps. Noble was on his side facing her, his arms wrapped around her, their breathing in perfect synchronicity, as, she was sure, were their heartbeats. She raised a languid finger to trace the length of his nose. How was it possible that each time Noble made love to her, she felt less and less an entity made up of herself, and more one made up of the both of them?
Did he feel that he was part of her, too? She hoped so. She wanted him to give his heart into her keeping just as she had given him hers. She sighed, wondering if he knew she had relinquished to him her most prized possession.
“I know,” he said with a dark, unfathomable look, and pulled her closer so that his chin rested on her head. “I’ll keep it safe, sweetheart.”
She would have blushed at the reappearance of her Unfortunate Habit, but then, she reasoned, she was lying naked on the carpet in the library in the middle of the day, after having engaged in activities that were not usually conducted in such a place. Surely there were many other worthy things to blush about!
“How do you know that Nick is happy to be in London?”
“Hmm? Nick? He told me.” Her Lord of Loins was certainly a man who explored a subject thoroughly before letting go of it. Her lips curved into a smile as she recalled just how thoroughly he had explored her. Thoroughness was not necessarily a bad quality in a man.
“He told you he is enjoying it here?”
“Yes.” She tipped her head back and met his gaze. He looked puzzled.
“He told you?”
She made a little moue of annoyance. Didn’t she just say that? “How else did you expect him to let me know he’s enjoying his stay in London?”
Noble frowned. “You are aware, are you not, madam, that my son does not speak?”
“Well of course I’m aware he doesn’t speak. It’s rather obvious, Noble.” Gillian pushed back from his chest and looked mildly insulted.
“And yet you tell me he has spoken to you. You will understand how I find this difficult to believe.”
“There are more ways of speaking than by tongue, husband. I’m a mother. A mother understands her children.”
“You have been a mother exactly”—he looked at the clock on the mantel—“forty hours. Hardly the experience I would imagine that was needed to read my son’s mind.”
“Regardless, I know Nick is having a wonderful time, and I would like him to accompany me on my visit to Charlotte.”
Noble was about to refuse when it struck him that he might be defeating his own purpose if he interfered too much. He had promised to give her a fair chance with Nick, and since she obviously wanted to include him in her plans, he thought it best to let her proceed. With a few precautions set in place, of course. He wasn’t about to expose his son to a nightmare like the one the lad had barely survived with Elizabeth.
Noble was about to suggest they reclaim their clothing when Gillian placed a hand on his chest and stroked him. “Noble, I will happily take as many footmen as you like with me, but I worry about you.”
He was having a hard time thinking about anything but the fire she was starting deep inside his belly. “About me?”
“Yes. This attack on you, Noble, was clearly carried out by someone who wants to harm you. If you would just share your thoughts with me about it, I believe I may be of some help to you. You said last night that you had a suspicion of someone who might have abducted you?”
Noble had a suspicion, all right, but it wasn’t about the person who had lured him to his small house in Kensington and left him naked on his mistress’s bed. It was a suspicion that Gillian had just used him, turned his desire for her against him, and used him physically in a manner much like Elizabeth had used him so long ago. Elizabeth, who viewed lovemaking as a means to an end, as a way to force him into acquiescing to whatever it was she wanted. With Elizabeth it was jewels or baubles; with Gillian, it was his soul. His muscles stiffened beneath the gentle caress of her hand. Elizabeth and Gillian — this turn of events was surely proof that they were both the same after all, both only after whatever they could get from him, by whatever means necessary. He struggled to keep his voice emotionless. “I have told you that is no concern of yours, my dear. Now perhaps you should get dressed if you wish to visit your cousin.”
Gillian continued to stroke his chest, heedless of the icy grip of torment that was creeping over her husband. It was true she could melt the ice encasing his soul with her passion, Noble thought as the pain from her betrayal seared a bloodless wound deep into his heart, but she could also be a thousand times colder than Elizabeth ever had been.
“If you would just tell me, Noble. Who is it you suspect? Who would do such a thing to you? Who knew where your mistress lived? Why would someone target you in such a way?”
“If you are quite through, madam…” The words fell from his lips with chilly formality. Briskly he pushed her away and fumbled with his breech buttons, his fingers numb with cold and fury. “I have work I wish to do. Your attentions, although welcome, are unnecessary to procure my permission for Nicholas to accompany you. The next time you seek such permission you might just ask me first.”
Gillian paused in the act of righting her gown, feeling as if she had just been slapped. She stared at Noble, stunned and shocked by the frigid tone of her husband’s voice. What had happened? Just a few minutes ago he had been whispering the most erotic, passionate words in her ear, praising her, thanking her, shouting out her name when their souls twined together in one blinding moment of ecstasy. What had happened to take that warm, lovely, loving man and change him into this cold automaton? She fought back the tears that threatened to choke her and finished arranging her gown, wondering all the while if she could explain to him the effect he had on her. Perhaps if she could, he would understand.
“Noble,” she said a moment later, and reached out to touch him. Her hand froze in midair as he flinched away from her. She couldn’t keep the tears back then. They welled up and spilled over as she choked out an apology, then ran from the room. What had she to do to banish the ghost of Elizabeth? Why couldn’t Noble give her a chance? Wasn’t there room in his heart for them both? Was she doomed to receive only the adoration of his body, but not his soul? She rushed blindly for the sanctuary of her bedchamber.