Authors: Nichole Matthews
“
Where did you get this, Mother?” Graydon asked trying to conceal the weary sigh that escaped him; a chill coursed down his spine. His fear only intensified as he thought of the two girls that would be traipsing through these very halls tomorrow, and the next, for a fortnight. How was he to protect everyone when they were spread across London?
There was no guarantee of safety.
No one was safe. No one.
“
Butterfield found it on the front step this morning when he was retrieving the news sheet, darling.” She looked up from pouring his tea. “Have you not informed all of your acquaintances that you have a house all to yourself?”
He pasted a smile on his face before looking up from the note. “You are correct as usual, Mother. Apparently I’ve forgotten to inform a few of my acquaintances.”
“
Of course I am, dear.” She went on when he remained silent. “I’m surprised it has taken you this many years to acknowledge my brilliance.”
His gaze shifted to the empty seat beside his mother. “Where is Miss Clayton?” He had noticed she hadn’t joined them for tea during his last three visits.
She smiled, waving her hand towards the door. “She is napping.” She took a bite of cake, her eyes closing in pleasure. “She tires more and more as the year’s progress.”
“
Perhaps you should pension her and find a younger companion.” He shook his head. “Do you leave the house alone, Mother?” If anything happened to his mother he would kill the son-of-a-bitch responsible—damn the consequences.
“
Don’t be silly, Graydon.” His mother shot him an irritated glance. “Minerva has been with me for twenty-something years and I am certainly not going to send her to live in a cottage in some godforsaken country town.” An uncertain look passed over her features. “Is something the matter, Graydon? Should I be concerned?” She narrowed her gaze.
Graydon cleared his throat. “Of course not, Mother. I just hate to see you alone.” He needed to make sure his mother was protected, he was going to make sure that he had Butterfield place two of their brawniest footman at the front and back doors just to be safe. He smiled. “It seems you are alone more and more lately.”
His mother’s eyes glittered at him. “Besides, your sisters arrive tonight.” She pointed out with a wave of her hand. “So I will have a megrim by morning and be taken to my own bed by afternoon, just as Minerva.”
Graydon sat back and sipped his tea. “There is never a dull moment, Mother.” He raised his cup in a salute.
After leaving his mother’s, Graydon made his way directly to Ashford House. She had already gotten under his skin. It was foolishness. If he were truly honest with himself, she had never been far from his thoughts. When he thought of her she was the epitome of the perfect lady, even before they had spoken one word. And now that they had—now that they had done so much more, he would die before he let some lunatic harm one hair on her head. What harm could come from visiting her? He ground his teeth together. Yes, what harm could possibly come from such an innocent visit?
He stood on the steps staring at nothing, wondering why he had not called on her before today when the door opened. Shaking himself out of his reverie he held out his card. “Lord Rockwell to see Lady Piper.”
“
Of course, my lord.” Bertie accepted his card. “I will see if she is at home, my lord,” he said, ushering Graydon into a pleasantly furnished salon in soothing shades of blue where he proceeded to stare out the large window as he waited for Piper to join him. It had been a long, frustrating week for Graydon. Trying to figure out who was trying to frighten him only to find out that they were not above threatening his family and possibly his friends. He couldn’t dismiss her from his thoughts so easily.
Piper allowed a satisfied smile to curve her lips as she stepped into the room, her blue eyes devoured the line of his broad shoulders and back encased in blue superfine, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, white lines noticeable where his fingers gripped one another. She could sense his raw power from across the room. Even from this distance she could see that something was wrong. He seemed as a tightly drawn bowstring ready to snap.
Stepping through the doorway, she paused. “My lord?” Her blue eyes filled with concern.
Graydon jerked at the sound of her voice, then looking over his shoulder, swallowing hard before turning from the window. Surprisingly, he allowed his gaze to drift downward, before returning to her face to where she had her silver-framed spectacles perched on her nose. Hunger prowled through his system. He wanted to remember everything, her dress, her eyes, her smile, and her scent. His fear of loss caused irrational thoughts to pass through his mind.
Irrational.
He gave an unwitting shake of his head, attempting to clear the dark thoughts.
She slowly arched a brow, her gaze never wavering from his amber eyes. Shivering at the intense gaze in his eyes which didn’t falter. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Gathering her courage, she rushed forward, halting directly in front of him, the air around them fairly hummed with unanswered questions, and she waited for him to explain, but the only thing that came were his strong hands circling her arms, drawing her against his chest.
“
Graydon?” Her breath seized as she watched his eyes feasting on her features, memorizing the curve of her jaw, the line of her lips, the depths of her gaze. “Has something grievous occurred?”
His gaze bore into hers, his nostrils flared. “I just had an overwhelming desire to see you again, Piper. I pray you don’t mind,” he said, his voice gruff.
She exhaled in relief. “Graydon,” But even knowing the shortness of their true acquaintance she raised her hand to run her fingers from his jaw to his forehead tracing the worried lines that formed there. Pulling back, her gaze locked with his. “Dear me, whatever’s the matter?”
“
I’m afraid this is not a social call.”
“
I gathered that by the dark cloud hovering above your head, my lord.” She glanced up, looking him over slowly, confusion marring her features. “However, pulling me into your arms is quite contrary to that statement, wouldn’t you agree?” Her brow arched.
He gave her a disconcerted look. The clock upon the mantle chimed the quarter hour, surprising Graydon from his daydream which he had drifted. Leaning down he pressed his lips to hers in a whisper of a kiss. So fleeting she could have imagined that it had occurred if not for the heat that spread from her lips to her toes.
“
Perhaps we can sit, my lord.” Lowering her hands, she gestured towards the blue brocade settee. “Would you like me to ring for refreshments?”
He waited for her to sit, then sat beside her. Without wasting any more time, he inquired, “Have you received any anonymous messages left at your door, Piper?”
“
I have not.” She turned to him, she thought for a minute. “But perhaps Parker or even Peyton have been recipients of such messages.” She pushed her spectacles up. “I could ask Bertie?”
“
That’s not necessary.” His brow furrowed. “These messages would be specifically addressed to you.”
“
Why?” She blinked at him, shoving her spectacles up the bridge of her nose.
“
Because of your association with me, Piper.” He reached for her hand, his expression earnest. “They are trying to hurt those important to me. They are trying to frighten me.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “And by threatening those close to me, they must feel they can weaken my resolve.”
“
Why are you being threatened?”
“
We haven’t figured that part out as of yet.” He grimaced. “Your brother’s and Hawksley are assisting me with this riddle.”
He tugged firmly at her hand until she fell into his arms. Her breath caught somewhere in her throat, his warm breath on her cheek as he bent down until his lips hovered over hers before placing his index finger on her lips. “I want your promise.” His amber eyes were ablaze. Abruptly, he pulled away from her. “Promise me you will let me know if something untoward happens.”
Her eyes sought his. She reached up and cupped his jaw with her hand, nodding in understanding. “Of course,” she assured him. “I will make sure I let you know if I notice any dangerous-looking strangers lurking about.”
His hand brushed a tendril of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He gazed in her eyes, his eyes glowed with an unspoken need, and his heart beat wildly inside his chest. He realized at that moment how essential she was to him.
Essential to his living.
He swallowed hard. He knew at that moment, he would do anything that was necessary to keep her safe. Then he dipped down to kiss her lips and all the air left the room.
This was what she wanted. What she waited for.
This was the unexplainable that she was missing. This made all the rest seem so trivial. So unnecessary. Leaning into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers tangled in the thick, curls resting on his nape.
He captured her head with his hand, holding her in place as he swirled his tongue inside her mouth and found himself surrounded by her scent and her taste, aroused by the sweetness of her plump lips pillowed beneath his own.
She let out a soft sigh, as he cupped her breasts with his hands. The thin muslin of her morning gown did little to detract from his arousing touch. Her nipples tightened, peaking beneath the flimsy fabric. And with a small cry, her back arched, pressing her ripe breasts more fully into his eager hands, the peaks begging for more.
Turning his attention to the tight buds that poked impatiently into his palms. Her breathing grew more and more labored with each tug and pull of his fingers. His sensual assault sent hot tingles of awareness straight to her core. She writhed beneath his touch as her hands slid down his neck, over his shoulders to rest against his chest began to move. Her fingertips tracing a delicate trail over his waistcoat.
A shockwave rippled through him, he wished he could feel her tiny hands against his naked flesh. The feel of her wasn’t nearly enough. He needed a taste. Dragging his mouth from hers he dipped his head, sealing his lips over one breast, wetting the thin fabric with his hot breath. His other hand never left her other breast. Bestowing equal pleasure when suddenly she froze, jerking away from his blissful touch.
He leaned his forehead against hers when he finally understood why she pulled away. He heard the loud footsteps and voices echoing in the hall over his ragged breath.
“
Not the time and the place, my lady.”
With a deep sigh, she touched his face; meeting his gaze. “No, my lord.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Why must it be so difficult to keep a secret?
Piper’s journal
2 August
CLIMBING INSIDE, Piper sank back against the velvet squabs and settled in for their half-hour drive to the Sotherland’s garden party.
She sighed, turning sideways in her seat she propped her chin on her ice-blue kid glove covered fist. Staring out the window, her mind preoccupied with the wicked gleam of Rockwell’s amber colored eyes, imagining his warm lips pressed to hers, his tongue...she sighed loudly. She hoped he would kiss her again, and soon.
“
Piper!” Startled from her reverie, she finally noticed the hand waving near her face. “Hello! Is anyone in there?”
She was unaware that she had closed her eyes until she heard the annoying call for attention from her brother. He had never been one to relish in solitude. Even as a small child he had craved an audience. “I’m sorry, Peyton,” she apologized, for a moment she looked contrite until the sheepish grin spread over her face.
Slumping in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Please don’t tell me that I am going to be forced to endure the confinement of this carriage ride without any stimulating conversation from you.” A glimmer of humor appeared in his eyes.
Her matching blue eyes sparkled as she gazed across the carriage at him. “Heaven forbid that you would be required to amuse yourself.”
“
Rockwell will be at Sotherland’s this afternoon.” Peyton observed in a thoughtful tone.
Piper shifted slightly in her seat, she knew that he would be there. He was there every year. Suddenly she felt unsure of herself, unsure of what she wanted to reveal. She lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “Is that so?” How did he do this every time? No matter how dissolute he became, he could always read her frame of mind.
“
Yes,” he smirked. “‘Tis known that he escorts his two younger sisters to the party every year.” He fiddled with his glove. “Quite sickening, actually.” After adjusting the folds of his immaculately arranged cravat he looked up. “Quite contrary to the tarnished façade he displays to the world. Why I’ve even seen him play on the floor with his sisters!” His brows furrowed. “Being on all fours is ruinous to the knees of ones trousers.” He winked.
Her gaze shifted uneasily to Miss Harris who was dozing against the side of the carriage, but remained silent.
Almost as if he could sense her dilemma, Peyton leaned forward and put his hand over hers. “I think you should prepare yourself.”
After a moment she asked, “Why?” Even though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what his answer truly was.