The very thought made her hands clench. She wouldn’t go back to MissMallory’s now for all the tea in China. Never see Lucien again? Truly, shefeared she would die.
Back in her dressing room, she gathered up the clothing Clarissa hadtaken off. “What are we to do with this, Redcliff?” she asked.
“Give it to me, my lady,” said the older woman with resignation. “I’llstash it somewhere below stairs. I don’t know what the marquess will haveto say when he finds out.”
“You are not to tell him,” said Beth sharply.
“I know that,” said the woman, “but you better do so, milady. He can’tharbor a fugitive in his father’s house without knowing of it.”
When she left with the bundle under her cloak, neither of themremembered the tricorne and the crumpled cravat still lying in theboudoir.
Chapter Eighteen
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Afraid to leave Clarissa in the house alone, Beth pleaded a headacheand kept to her rooms. She even took her dinner there, sharing it with thegirl. She desperately tried to think of a place Clarissa could findsafety, but the only possibility was the Delaneys. Though they seemed sowarm and welcoming, the acquaintance was too slight to boldly ask them tobe her accomplices in an illegality. If necessary she would do so,however, rather than meekly hand Clarissa back.
Beth lent the girl a nightgown and saw her tucked up in the bed. Atleast it was warm weather so the unaired sheets were not too cold. Allthey needed was for Clarissa to take sick.
Then, seeing no need to put off the matter, she prepared for bedherself and gave Redcliff the evening off. Sitting curled up on the sofain her boudoir, fretting uselessly hour after hour over her problem, shehad completely forgotten about Lucien until he walked into the roomcarrying a decanter and two glasses. Red wine, just like on their weddingnight.
His blue eyes were bright, his beautiful mouth curled in a happy smile.“Dutch courage,” he said lightly, “though I’m not sure which of us willneed it most.”
Beth could not hope to conceal her shock and alarm. Her principalthought was that Clarissa was in the very next room and might walk in atany moment.
Lucien’s expression dimmed. “You perhaps?” he said and poured her aglass. This time her hand did not shake very much, and she gratefullygulped the encouraging claret.
He studied her before he spoke. “I thought your note was unambiguous,my dear, but I’m beginning to wonder. Would you prefer that I leave?”
There was a great temptation to say yes, but Beth did notwanthim to leave and quailed to think what such an answer mightdo to their fragile relationship.
“Of course not,” she said, holding out a hand to him. “I... I just didnot expect you so early. You have been out late these last fewnights.”
He relaxed and smiled again as he came to sit beside her. “Am I to beunder the cat’s paw? I might like it, I think. Truly, I thought you neededa break from my company.”
He seemed so honest. She wished she could believe him. “Of course Ididn’t,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”
He didn’t move. There was no significant change in his expression andyet something altered. Something took her breath away. He gently took theempty glass from her hand. “Have you? You may be right, then, abouteliminating our anxiety. I thought you’d taken me in dislike again.”
Beth felt her heart hammering in her chest, a warmth spreading throughher body. He raised her hand and kissed it, his lips soft and warm againsther fingers. She watched his lowered head breathlessly as he turned herhand and pressed a kiss into her sensitive palm.
“Oh.”
It was a meaningless little exhalation on her part. She had to breathesooner or later. He looked up, and she had the impression fire danced inhis eyes. His cheeks were beautifully touched with color.
He pulled her gently and she swayed into his arms. “I should haveseduced you that morning, shouldn’t I have, my little radical?” he saidsoftly.
Beth remembered. “Yes, I think you should.”
He buried his face in her curls and she felt his lips at her neck. Herhands sought him but found, unsatisfactorily, the fabric of hisjacket.
“Lucien,” she said. “You have too many clothes on.”
He choked with helpless laughter against her shoulder and then pushedback slightly to look at her. “Of course I have. It would have been atrifle brash, though to have come in my night robe, wouldn’t it?”
“Would it? You weren’t ashamed of your banjan before.”
“But then,” he said, “I was fairly sure I wouldn’t be your lover. Now,my wonderful angel-light, I’m fairly sure I will.”
