"Harry?" Alarmed by the unrelenting expression in his eyes as he came toward her, Augusta began to edge backward. "My lord, what do you think you are doing?"
Harry reached her just as Augusta was thinking it might be very smart to turn and run for the door. She took another step backward, but she was too late.
Harry scooped her up as though she were a sack of flour and tossed her over his shoulder. He stalked toward the door, opened it, and earned Augusta out into the hall,
"Good grief, Harry. Stop this at once." Augusta pounded on his broad back. She kicked out wildly, but he clamped his arm around her thighs, anchoring her.
"You wanted a duel, madam; you shall have one. We shall use the weapons with which nature has already endowed each of us and the field of honor shall be my bed. I assure you there will be no quarter given until you beg for it."
"Damnation, Harry. This is not what I intended at all."
"That is unfortunate for you."
Harry was halfway up the stairs with Augusta when Craddock emerged from the direction of the servants' hall. The butler was struggling hastily into his jacket. His shirt still hung open and he was carrying his shoes. He stared at his master and mistress in astonishment.
"I heard a commotion, your lordship," Craddock stammered, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Is aught amiss?"
"Not a thing, Craddock," Harry assured him as he stalked on up the stairs with Augusta over his shoulder. "Lady Gray stone and I are merely on our way to bed. See to the lamps."
"Of course, your lordship."
Augusta caught a glimpse of Craddock's face as Harry carried her around the corner at the top of the stairs. The butler was struggling valiantly to stifle a great shout of laughter. She groaned in disgust.
Harry dismissed his valet with a single word as he strode into his bedroom. "Out."
The man vanished, closing the door behind him, but not before Augusta had seen the grin on his face. She shot Harry a withering glance as he dumped her lightly down onto the bed.
When he sat down next to her and began removing his boots, Augusta sat up hurriedly. Her fury had already begun to fade and common sense was returning quickly. She was well aware that what she had said downstairs in the library had been utterly beyond the pale.
"Harry, I am sorry I made that wild challenge. I realize it truly was outside the limit for a wife to do such a thing, but you do have a way of infuriating me."
"That is nothing compared to the effect you have on my temper, madam." The second boot hit the floor. Harry stood up and started to strip off the remainder of his clothing.
Augusta saw that he was already folly aroused. She felt the familiar warmth begin to twist and curl in her lower body. I love him so, she thought resentfully. It really was most unfair that he had such power over her.
"Now, madam wife, we shall begin the duel." Harry came down onto the bed and pushed the skirts of her gown and petticoats up to her waist with one swift motion. His hand clamped boldly on her thigh and his eyes gleamed as he bent over her.
"And will you apologize if I win?" she whispered as her skin warmed under his touch.
"There will be no apologies from me, madam. But you demanded satisfaction and I swear you shall have it. Of course, I shall also have mine."
His mouth covered hers as he crushed her beneath him.
18
Augusta stirred in the big bed, aware of the hard, solid, disturbingly masculine body beside her. The heavy scent of the recent lovemaking hovered in the air and her body was still damp.
She opened her eyes and saw a pale moon outside the window. Slowly she stretched out her legs, wincing at the slight soreness in her thigh muscles. It was always this way after Harry had made love to her. She felt as though she had ridden a blooded stallion long and hard. Or perhaps it was she who had been ridden. She smiled to herself.
"Augusta?"
"Yes, Harry?" She turned on her side and propped her elbows on his bare chest.
"There is something I would know about this night's work."
"And what is that, my lord?" She twined her fingers in the crisp mat of hair on his chest. It was amazing how what they shared together in bed could affect both their moods, she reflected. For example, she was no longer feeling at all belligerent and defensive.
"Why did you not come to me immediately with that note the lad handed you this afternoon? Why did you try to keep such a dangerous rendezvous on your own?"
Augusta sighed. "I doubt that you would understand, Harry."
"Try me."
"Even if you do understand, you will doubtless not approve."
"You have the right of it on that point. But tell me why you did not come to me with that note, Augusta," he ordered gently. "Was it because you feared the information you would be given would be evidence against your brother?"
"Oh, no," she said quickly. "Just the opposite, in fact. I assumed from the note that it would be the proof I needed to remove the cloud of suspicion that hangs over Richard's name."
"Then why did you not confide in me? You knew I would be interested in whatever transpired tonight."
She stopped toying with his chest hair. "I wanted to show you that I could be as useful and helpful in your investigations as your close friends."
"Sally and Sheldrake?" Harry frowned. "That was most foolish, Augusta. They have had a great deal of experience at this kind of thing. They know how to take care of themselves. You know nothing about conducting an investigation."
"But that is just it." She sat up beside him. "I want to learn. I want to be part of your circle of truly close friends, the ones with whom you share your deepest thoughts. I want to have the kind of bond with you that Sally and Peter do."
"Hell, Augusta, you are my wife," Harry muttered, exasperated. "Our bond is far more intimate than any I share with Sally or Peter Sheldrake, I assure you."
"The only time I feel truly close to you is when we are in bed together as we are now. And that is not enough, because even then there is a distance between us."
"There is no distance at all between us at such times, madam." He smiled as he stroked a hand down over her hip. "Or need I remind you?"
She wriggled away from his touch. "But there is a kind of distance because you do not love me. You only feel some physical passion for me. It is not at all the same thing."
His brow rose. "You are an expert on the difference?"
"I expect every woman is an expert on the difference between passion and love," Augusta retorted. " 'Tis no doubt an instinct."
"Are we going to get ourselves mired again in that useless argument with all its confounded feminine logic?"
"No." Augusta leaned forward eagerly. " 'Tis just that I have decided if I cannot have your love, Harry, I would have your friendship. Your close friendship. I want to be a part of your inner circle of companions. The ones with whom you share everything. Do you not understand, my lord?"
"No, I do not understand. You are not making sense."
"I want to feel as though I belong to your special circle of intimates. Do you not see, my lord? It would be like being part of your real family."
"Damnation, Augusta, you are talking a lot of emotional nonsense. Hear me well, wife, you are most certainly a part of this family." He caught hold of her chin, his eyes intent. "And do not ever forget that fact, madam. You are not, however, a trained intelligence agent and I will not have you playing dangerous games the way you did tonight. Is that quite clear?"
"But I did a good job, Harry. Admit it. I brought you some very interesting evidence. Only think, my lord. Someone went to all that trouble just to make us think that the Spider was my brother and has therefore been dead for two whole years. That raises some interesting possibilities, does it not?"