Secret Brides [3] Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage (24 page)

He stopped several paces from the door. The strains of “Moonlight Sonata” floated out of the room. She was playing the pianoforte again. She loved that piece.

Taking a deep breath, James opened the door without knocking. He stepped inside the darkened room. The music stopped. Only a single candelabra burned on top of the instrument.

Kate glanced up at him, her blue eyes wide.

“James.”

He let out his pent-up breath. He’d thought it might be a dream, her being here, some cruel joke Lily had played on him. But there Kate was, sitting on the piano stool, across from the French doors, wearing a ruby-red gown that made him swallow. She looked like a dream come to life. He squinted. The firelight bounced off her silken hair. He longed to run his fingers through it.

“Kate,” he breathed.

She shook her head a bit and the red-gold curls on the top of her head bounced. “Lily and Annie told you I was here?”

“Yes.” Affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel, James pushed his hands into his pockets and made his way over to the pianoforte.

Kate stood, pushing out the stool with the backs of her knees. She wrung her hands. She stepped toward him, slowly. They were only a pace apart. He could smell her perfume. The hint of strawberries. His mouth watered.

“James, are you … angry?”

He furrowed his brow. “Angry? Why would I be angry?”

“That I’m here. These are your friends, and I’m intruding.” She glanced away. “I don’t belong here.”

He had to struggle to keep his hands in his pockets. He wanted to reach out and … touch her, pull her into his arms.

“No, Kate. I’m not angry with you. I’m glad you’re here.”

She tentatively raised her gaze to his. It was pitch-black outside but the candlelight illuminated a bit of the outdoors. The snow still fell in fluffy heaps beyond the windows.

“You’re glad?” she breathed.

“I wanted to visit you, Kate. I wanted to tell you how happy I was that you were freed.”

She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry I returned the money. But I just couldn’t take it. Not after … your house.”

“That money belongs to you.”

“I don’t care about the money.” She closed her eyes briefly. “James, may I ask you a question?”

He smiled at that. “You know you can.”

“Why haven’t you published the pamphlet yet?”

He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about the pamphlet, Kate. The pamphlet doesn’t matter.”

Her brow furrowed. She reached out a hand as if in supplication. “But … why? I’d expect it would be more popular than ever now that my name is cleared. It would sell wonderfully, pay for the repairs to your house, the money you spent for Mr. Abernathy, Mr. Horton.”

“Damn it, Kate, that’s not why … It was never about the money,” James ground out.

Kate let her hand drop to her side. “I don’t understand.”

James paced away, toward the French doors. “Publishing for me has been a drive. A need. My father was always so blasted frightened of any hint of scandal. But now … I don’t care about it anymore. You were right. I should use the press for good. Expose the real truth about things going on, the wrongly accused, the poor.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “James, don’t do that just because of me.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but she put up a hand to stop him. “Wait, first, I must thank you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had a defense. Wouldn’t have hired Mr. Abernathy. Wouldn’t have had a runner investigating my case. I wouldn’t be free right now.” She paused, looking down at her feet. “I owe you my life.”

His voice was savage. “You owe me nothing, Kate.”

She walked past him, trembling, and his fingers ached to reach out and stroke her cheek. “You didn’t let me finish. I owe you my life, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but I’m leaving. I’m going to the Continent. The angry mobs may have dispersed but my reputation is still in shreds here. I will not be welcome in Society. There’s nothing I can do about it. I must leave. But I’ll always be thankful to you.” She turned back to face him, pushing up her chin.

James scrubbed his hand through his hair. He cursed violently under his breath. “I can make this right, Kate. I can fix your reputation—”

She whipped her head around to face him, her curls falling enchantingly over one shoulder. “No you can’t, James. You know that. Even you can’t fix this.”

He clenched his jaw and met her eyes. “How do you intend to live on the Continent?”

“I have my dower money. I can make a life.”

“The money from the pamphlet is still yours, Kate. You should take it.”

Her jaw tightened and anger flashed in her eyes. She turned on her heel, ran over to the double doors, and pushed them open. A blast of cold air shot through the room, and she ran out, into the black, freezing night, into the snowflakes.

James followed her, stalking out into the snow behind her. “What do you think you are doing?”

She turned on him, her eyes flashing blue fire. The snowflakes floated down her alabaster cheeks. She turned in a circle, around and around, her gown looking blood-red against the white ground. She breathed in the cold air. Her breath came in short puffs. Then she took two very deep breaths and exhaled slowly. “I’m feeling, James. Feeling. Feeling this air. Feeling the snow. I never knew if I’d feel this again.”

“What does that have to do with the money, going to the Continent?”

She turned on him, eyes still flashing. “I don’t want your money, James. I never wanted it.”

James stopped himself from reaching for her. Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides. “What do you want, then? Say the word. I have friends. I have money. We can
make
the blasted
ton
accept you again.”

She advanced on him, pointing a finger at his chest, and he retreated, slowly, shuffling backward through the snow, the cold wetness seeping through the legs of his breeches.

“You’re always trying to fix everything,” she said. “Always trying to make things right. That’s why you hired a runner for me, and that’s why you’re doing this now. But my reputation is another thing altogether. Even with my name cleared I’ve been involved in a scandal I will never live down. Even if George hadn’t been murdered, everyone knows I wanted a divorce. None of that has changed. God, James, don’t you know by now that not everything can be fixed?”

James closed his eyes. He was helpless. Helpless. The one thing he wanted to fix more than all the others was standing here in the snow looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, and telling him he was a failure.

“I
can
fix this,” he growled through clenched teeth. “I’ll publish whatever you want me to, use the printing press to save your reputation. You’re a duchess—”

She whirled on him, her scarlet gown flaring around her ankles, pooling against the pure snow. The flakes that still clung to her impossibly long lashes were illuminated like sparking diamonds by the candlelight that filtered from the windows of the house. “No!” she cried. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want to be a duchess.”

James dug his fingers into his fists. “What is it you want, Kate? Tell me. I’ll make it happen. I swear it.”

She bowed her head. “No. No.”

He took two steps forward and grabbed her shoulders. They were close enough for the little puffs of her warm breath to evaporate against his shirtfront. “Tell me,” he demanded.

She looked up at him, trembling. Her eyes locked with his. “I want to spend the night with you.”

CHAPTER 34

James roughly pulled her into his arms. His mouth came crushing down on hers, and Kate nearly whimpered. He pushed her head back, covered her cheeks with his strong warm hands. He invaded her mouth with his hot, bold tongue.

Kate kissed him for a moment, with all the passion and longing she felt for him. Then she pulled away. “James, I—”

“Shh,” he whispered against her lips. “Just let me kiss you.” He traced his mouth along her cheekbone, her temple. He kissed her forehead. Then his mouth met hers again and Kate forgot all about the cold and the snow. She was melting, on fire.

“Why didn’t you tell me … this … before?” he asked in between his kisses. His hands moved up to her hair. He kept her mouth captive, shaped it, owned it. Wouldn’t let her go.

Kate whispered against his lips. “I couldn’t … couldn’t keep putting you in danger.”

He rested his forehead against hers and wrapped his arms around her. “I never cared about the danger. I only cared about … you.”

She gasped against his mouth. “That’s not true, James. That can’t be true.”

He kissed her again, and this time she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “It’s true that when you first came to live with me, I wanted the pamphlet, but since then, Kate … all I can think about is you. I knew you didn’t kill George. I knew it.”

“You always believed in me.”

“Not always, but after I came to know you … the real you … I knew you couldn’t have done it.”

He kissed her again, and she let her head tilt back, savoring the hot warmth of his mouth, the flavor of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. The last week she’d spent in the Tower before being released, those awful freezing nights in prison, she’d wondered if she’d ever see him again, and now that he was here, kissing her, she never wanted to let him go.

“I missed you, Kate,” he whispered against her mouth.

She swallowed. She wanted to cry. She’d missed him too, but it didn’t change the fact that she was a liability to him. They couldn’t just take up where they’d left off, living together in Mayfair. Why, even if they were to lose their minds and marry, they couldn’t live a normal life. The judgmental
ton
wouldn’t accept them. And after James published the pamphlet, would it be better or worse? Oh, it didn’t matter. The entire notion of them being together was ludicrous no matter how much she might dream of it. She couldn’t love James and threaten his reputation any more than she already had.

“James,” she whispered. “We … we can’t…”

He kissed her again, deeply, urgently. “Can’t what?”

She didn’t know what she meant either. His mouth seared her ear, her throat. His lips traveled down to her décolletage, and he buried his face between her breasts. “Kate, you’re so sweet. So sweet,” he whispered. His thumb rubbed her nipple through her gown, and her mind went blank. His leg had pushed between the two of hers, and he was rubbing against her through the fabric of her dress. She was mindless with wanting him. Oh God, why had she run off into the snow? If they were on the sofa in one of the salons, no doubt they’d be making love to each other by now, and that’s exactly what she was fantasizing about.

“James,” she breathed. “Not here.”

“Just let me kiss you a moment longer,” he begged, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her as if it were the first time. He kissed her as if it were the last time, and Kate wasn’t sure any more which was closer to the truth. She ran her fingers through his hair, clutched his head to hers and allowed the little cold snowflakes to infuse their hot kisses with the tiniest bit of ice. She kissed the snowflakes from his cheekbones and shuddered when his tongue roughly slid against hers. His leg was still riding between hers. She rubbed herself against him like a complete wanton, enjoying every bit of the sensation the friction their clothing created between them.

“Kate,” he whispered. “I want you.” He kissed her again. “I want you.”

“James,” she whispered back. “I want you too.”

The sound of a woman clearing her throat broke them from their embrace. Kate opened her eyes slowly and focused on the candlelight behind her inside the house. James glanced behind them, a curse on his lips.

Lily stood in the open French doors, pointedly not looking at them. She appeared to be examining the weave of the carpet, actually. She’d cleared her throat, bit her lip, and was rocking back and forth on her heels, the hint of a blush on her cheeks.

James and Kate just stared at her.

“I came to tell you that dinner is ready,” Lily announced in an overly loud, somewhat apologetic voice. “We’ll just … see you in the dining room in a few moments.”

She turned and hurried away then as fast as she could and the tap of her slippers down the marble hallway signaled her retreat.

James pulled Kate by the hand out of the snow and into the music room again. He shut the doors securely behind them.

They stamped the snow from their feet and Kate turned to James with wide eyes. “Oh God, what Lily must think of me…” She shook her head.

“She doesn’t judge you, believe me,” he said, pulling a throw blanket from the top of the sofa and wrapping it around Kate’s shoulders. He guided her to the sofa, sat her down, and bent on one knee to pull off her wet, ruined slippers and stockings. Kate had to admit, she got a bit of a thrill from it. Then he rubbed her arms up and down to warm her. “You’ll have to go up to your room, before dinner, and get new shoes.”

“Yes.” She nodded.

Kate accepted his ministrations with a meek smile, truly hoping they wouldn’t end. “How do you know?” she asked, rubbing the warmth back into her hands and blowing into them. “That Lily doesn’t judge me?”

James gave her a wry smile. “She’s done worse with Colton, I’m sure.”

Kate’s eyes widened.

James stopped rubbing her arms and grabbed her by the shoulders gently. “Listen to me, Kate. We must talk. After dinner.”

“Come to my room tonight,” she blurted out. Butterflies scattered in her stomach. If he came to her room later, there was every possibility … Oh, but she couldn’t even think about it right now. It would be too wonderful. And scandalous. But as long as they were careful, no one would ever know he’d been there.

James pulled the blanket from her shoulders and tossed it back onto the sofa. He relaxed his shoulders and offered her his hand. “Yes, Kate. I’ll come to your room tonight.”

CHAPTER 35

When the light knock sounded on her door sometime well after midnight, Kate’s stomach leaped. The Christmas Eve dinner with Lily, Devon, Annie, and Jordan had been wonderful, though she’d barely been able to meet Lily’s eyes, let alone James’s. They’d all talked, laughed, and had a wonderful time, but Kate hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything other than James’s promise to visit her room later. She’d hardly eaten a thing even though the meal had been outstanding. Seven courses, meat, duck, jellies, puddings, breads, desserts. All sorts of rich sauces and gravies. It had been a meal fit for royalty and it had been spent with the very best of company. But when James had glanced over at her from behind his wine glass, Kate’s insides trembled, and she had no appetite. She had been forced to apologize to her hostess for not eating much of the delectable courses that had been placed before her.