A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) (27 page)

“Really? Henrietta must be brilliant.”

“Thank you.” Michael’s head was bent over the pages he leafed through. “Hen is smart as a whip, but wasn’t allow to attend university because she’s a woman. When in society, she’s had to pretend she has no brains, especially with clodhopper men. I’m glad she married Rathbourne; he appreciates her talents.”

Gabby came up behind him and ran her fingers through his hair. She had gotten used to touching him during the days he was ill. “When you were ill, I would run a cold cloth on your face and scalp and then I would do this. It seemed to help you when you were thrashing.” She massaged his head. “You have the most wonderful thick hair, the color of winter wheat.”

Michael grabbed both her hands and squeezed them. “Darling, if I don’t solve this, you won’t be safe, nor will the king.” He twisted in the chair and tugged her onto his lap. Shocked, she gasped and then laughed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you, but it has been hard not to touch you after our time in France.” Gabby looked up into his eyes.

“Your plan to distract me isn’t necessary. Everything about you is a wonderful and an astonishing distraction.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And it does seem you had more fun in France than I did.” Nuzzling her neck, he whispered into her ear. His warm breath sending chills along her skin. “Were you a naughty girl, Gabby? Did you do more than massage my neck?”

Outraged by his suggestion, Gabby pushed against his chest to jump off his lap. “Of all the crude things to say to me!”

Michael held her tightly, preventing her movement. “I have a feeling neither of us will get much work done…” She felt his erection pushing against her. His cheeks had a sun-kissed color and his green eyes gleamed. He took her lips in a hungry, demanding way, thrusting his tongue into her mouth while he rocked against her. Unlike the tender kisses before, this was about possession and primitive hunger.

Gabby felt heat slide down her throat, to her breasts, her stomach, and lower. She pushed back against his movement.

“Gabby, darling. I know what you need.”

Gabby’s eyes widened. “You do?” Her voice came out husky in wanting.

“Let me help you.” He brushed his knuckles along the sensitive exposed skin above her bodice. “Do you want me to kiss you here?” His head descended and he trailed wet gentle kisses, along her neck and earlobe.

He toyed with the fabric of her bodice before he slowly pushed the fabric down to expose her breasts, covered only in the chemise.

Gabby squirmed, unable to control the sensations assaulting her body.

Her breasts seem to expand and tighten with his intense gaze. “Beautiful, like I knew they would be.” His fingertip traced one of the erect nipples and Gabby gasped.

“Do you like that?” His low voice was wrapped in dark velvet.

Gabby could only nod. Her breath was coming in little bursts, anticipating every new touch by Michael.

He lightly pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Gabby shifted her weight, moving against his erection straining beneath her.

He lowered her chemise down, exposing her breasts to the cool air. “What do you think I should do next?” He lifted her breasts in his hands.

Gabby was speechless and agitated. Nothing could come out.

He rained kisses along her breasts at the same time he squeezed them gently. “Shall I taste these delights?”

Stunned by her own reaction, Gabby wanted Michael to put his lips on her breasts. He bent and put his tongue to her nipple and his intimate touch shot straight to her womb. Her body flooded with heat and moisture. She threw her head back offering him herself, wanting more.

Michael took her other breast into his mouth and tugged on her nipple, rolling the erect tip between his teeth. Gabby couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She was a jumble of heat and responsiveness.

Michael’s breath was fast and hard and she wanted to touch him, feel his hot skin, suck on his neck, but she could only take in the sensations overtaking her body. She didn’t know what the morning would bring. She wanted to experience what this one man she loved was offering.

“Darling, spread your legs.” Michael’s voice came out harsh and rough.

He cradled her back into his arms while his calloused fingers explored her calf, his fingers playing along the edge of her stocking. “I will spend time kissing you here.” His finger moved higher until he touched her inner thigh. “And more time kissing you here on your pale, white skin.”

Gabby stopped breathing and lay back in his arms, a molten mixture of burning need and desire. She couldn’t imagine Michael’s lips on her thighs when she could barely withstand the riot of overpowering emotions from his finger’s light touch.

Reaching for more, her body arched toward the next feeling.

Michael stared at her, capturing her in his hungry gaze. “I’m going to kiss you right here, Gabby.” And his finger glided over her opening. Heat flooded Gabby. His fingers played and explored her wetness, causing her body to tighten in anticipation.

“Do you think you’ll be embarrassed?” He looked down at her with passion and tenderness.

Gabby could only nod, her body a riot of sensations.

Michael’s lips curved and eyes blazed in mischievous delight while his fingers pressed into her, spreading her apart, readying her for the intrusion of his finger. “You won’t be embarrassed; you’ll beg me not to stop.”

She already wanted to beg him to answer her growing need. She panted, unable to catch her breath or focus on anything but the feelings Michael elicited. She was coiled tight, ready to explode.

Michael took her breast and sucked hard at the same time he played with her like a violin string, flicking his finger to elicit nuances of the intimate music of her body.

“Fly, my darling.” And Gabby did. She flew into space where white sparks danced before her eyes, and she floated into a warm sea of bliss, and a Beethoven sonata.

Michael kissed her, swallowing her joyful screams.

She floated on notes, the melody carrying her in sweet contentment. Gabby didn’t know how long she laid boneless in Michael’s arms.

“Darling.” Michael pressed his lips to her forehead. “Can you wake up?”

Languid, Gabby drifted, moving with the gentle waves of a slowed and sluggish rhythm. “You are gifted.”

Michael chuckled. She wanted to stay wrapped in his warmth, the safety of his heartbeat against her ear. “I should have known you were a woman of deep passions. I’m glad to help you express your passion in ways other than music.”

She started to drift again in his warmth, a sea of pleasure. “He uses too many eighth notes… Code must be in the time signature.” She wanted to tell Michael about the quarter notes, too, but couldn’t gather her strength. Later…she would tell him later.

Chapter Thirty-three

Michael kept looking back at Gabby, covered in her shawl, sleeping soundly on the settee. He was glad he could help her relax. What a joke! He had given her screaming pleasure. And he either deserved a medal or to be committed to an asylum for resisting her innocent and seductive overtures. His little musician was a passionate seductress without any effort or guile. He had been seduced by the best, and none could compare to his Gabby, who didn’t even try.

She also was cracker-smart like his sister. He had broken the code while she slept. But it was her insight that led to his breakthrough, recognizing the correlation between the pitch and duration of the notes for the code. He would have eventually come to it on his own, but he liked that Gabby had readily seen the association. Their children were going to be gifted. And after today’s encounter, they’d better wed quickly. He didn’t know how much longer he could resist her.

He turned to the sound of the door opening. Instead of Lady Gwyneth as he expected, it was Lady Euphemia. He had only met her at dinner the night he had arrived from France and they hadn’t really conversed.

He stood and bowed and whispered to not wake his sleeping beauty. “Lady Euphemia.”

He should have woken Gabby to have her rest in her bedroom, but he didn’t want to interrupt her deep sleep and he didn’t want to be separated from her. Although she protested that she was fine from her injury, she had taken a hard fall and obviously needed sleep, as evidenced by her light snores.

He held his breath and waited for Lady Euphemia’s outrage over finding him with a sleeping Gabby.

The lady swept into the room in a bright green and a pink turban with birds tucked into the folds. “Please call me Aunt Euphemia. We are now family.” She also spoke in hushed tones.

“Poor gel. She’s had a rough time of it. I’m glad to see she is resting. She feels safe in your presence. Her grandparents would have approved of you.”

Michael must have shown the shock on his face. “Gabby hasn’t told you that I knew her grandparents?”

“No, my lady.”

“Call me Aunt Euphemia.” She had moved to the desk and was looking at the papers spread across the surface. Michael couldn’t rush over and cover up his work. But he could pretend to be helping Gabby with the music, if she questioned him.

“How are you doing deciphering the code? Found anything?”

“Excuse me, my lady…my…Aunt Euphemia.”

The lady chortled. “Don’t get choleric. I know of your work with the opera and the plot against our king.”

“But…how, my lady. I haven’t told anyone about my work.”

“Of course not. My nephew informed me.”

Michael must have left his mouth open since the lady brayed. “My boy, you know the first principle of espionage. ‘The least expected is the most dangerous.’”

“You’re a…?”

The older woman shrugged her shoulders, making the birds dance on her turban.

Michael appreciated how effective Aunt Euphemia would be in a covert mission. No one would expect this eccentric, old-fashioned woman to be carrying out espionage.

“Have you made any headway?”

“I have cracked the code with help from Gabby’s musical insight.”

“Of course you did. You’re going to make a good team. I’m sorry her grandmamma isn’t here to see what a wonderful woman she has become.”

Both Aunt Euphemia and Michael startled when Gabby spoke. “Aunt Euphemia?”

“I’m sorry, my dear, I never learned to whisper. Did you have a good lie down?” Aunt Euphemia sat across from Gabby, who rubbed her eyes like a young child waking from nap time.

“Shall I ring for hot water for the tea?” Aunt Euphemia asked. “It appears you and Kendal never got to have tea.”

“Allow me, my lady,” Michael said.

“Tut, tut, my boy,” Aunt Euphemia chided.

Michael grinned. “Allow me, Aunt Euphemia.” He pulled the bell next to the fireplace to summon Morley.

With his back turned he could hear the two ladies snicker.

“Are you going to tell her about the code?” Aunt Euphemia asked.

Gabby swung her legs around to the floor and patted her curls. He had planned to wake her up before he left with a sweet kiss and watch her come into slow awareness, to see her skin flush with remembering what they had shared. Impatient, he was ready to have this whole damn business settled so he could claim Gabby as his own in every way.

Aunt Euphemia reached for a strawberry and took a big bite. “She is going to be quite pleased.”

Michael sat in the chair next to Aunt Euphemia. If the lady weren’t here, he would swing Gabby in his arms to celebrate. But he really shouldn’t be quick-tempered about the older woman’s presence. She had Gabby’s best interest at heart, and if Aunt Euphemia weren’t present he might have difficulty resisting the sleep-tousled Gabby a second time.

“Michael, tell me. Did you figure out what you were working on?”

Michael couldn’t hold back a wide grin. And he was about to tell Gabby but realized she didn’t know about Aunt Euphemia’s secret identity or did she?

“Gabby already knows that I do work in His Majesty’s service. You can tell us both.”

Michael jumped out of his chair. “Gabby, you were right. The values of the notes signal which part of the alphabet the message is written in. And the pitches match the letters.”

“A two-step process. I knew it couldn’t only be the pitches. But this is more time-consuming to decipher.”

“I’m sorry but I’m a bit lost.” Aunt Euphemia looked between them.

“Let me get an example for you to see.” Michael retrieved the first sheet of the cantata.

He bent over Aunt Euphemia to show her the sheet of paper. “The scrawl on the side is the message.”

“And who wrote these notes?” Aunt Euphemia asked.

“Madame Abney’s husband,” Gabby answered.

“He also has travelled with his wife to Germany and Italy and was in France with her. I wonder who in France made him an offer he couldn’t resist. Money to pay for his paramours, perchance?” Aunt Euphemia rubbed her chin and stared at the ceiling.

Since her questions were rhetorical, Michael pointed to the music. “To understand the message, you have to read both lines. Let’s use the first bar of music. The eighth note is on the G pitch. But the second note is a quarter note, which signals that you must switch the pitches to the second half of the alphabet, H to N, giving you an L on the pitch. Then a half note is for the alphabet O through U, and so on. This bar of music spells ‘gloves.’”