“Could you be smelling it from the dining room, Mama,” Bella asked, trying her best to swallow the giggle that threatened.
“I do not think so, do you, Mary?” Her mother feigned a look of irritation for a minute before allowing her face to break into a smile. “I declare, Bella. You have everyone involved in your mischief. See that you add an extra dab of rosewater. You do not want your beau to think you smell like . . . food.”
Bella glanced at her mother who was struggling to maintain a straight face. It had become more of a game, and lately, Mama had resigned herself to her daughter’s quirks.
“Mama, I will make you a bacon aficionado one day, too!”
Her mother laughed. “I enjoy a piece occasionally. However, the smell lingers so long that I deny myself rather than deal with that.” She looked at her daughter. “You look lovely. Hurry down, my dear. I would like to know you had more than a piece of toast and a few strips of bacon to sustain you, and your young man will be here soon.” She gave her daughter a peck on the cheek. “I will meet you in the dining room. Now, hurry.”
Mama did not have to ask her to hurry. She had but one goal today—to see Slade.
An hour later,Slade’s carriage arrived in the drive. He picked up the carefully wrapped bouquet of pink roses from the seat next to him. The note her father had shown him replayed heavily in his head. It had been almost a week ago when he had taken her for a ride in Dover.
With everything happening with Graham, he had completely forgotten seeing the man in the large felt hat watching them from across the pond. He had gone back to the site and found what might have been a smeared footprint in the marshy area next to the pond. He could not be certain. Arriving home and finding Graham had taken the nightshade had completely thrown him. And now, Bella’s life was being threatened—perhaps, by Lady Caroline Evers.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” came the pinched voice of the Rothmore butler. He took Slade’s hat and coat. “Lady Bella is waiting in the parlor,” he said, indicating Slade should follow him. “Shall I take the flowers, Your Grace?”
“That will not be necessary, Gordon,” Lady Bella said, meeting them at the door.
“Yes, my lady,” the man sniffed and left the room.
Bella leaned in and sniffed the pink flowers, fingering a couple of petals. “You know these are my favorite,” she sniffed the bouquet once more. “Thank you, Slade.”
Slade watched her touch the flowers and imagined her long, lovely fingers combing through his hair. The thought sent an unexpected feeling of excitement thrumming through him.
Bella turned and showed the flowers to her mother, who smiled approvingly. “Let me take care of those, my dear,” she said, reaching for them. “I will ask the housekeeper to place these in your room.”
“Thank you, Mama. I would love that,” Bella said, easing her fingers into a pair of pale grey kid gloves.
“I am very happy to do that,” her mother said with a smile. “What are your plans for today?” she asked sweetly.
“I thought a ride through the park and an ice at Gunter’s would make a nice outing,” Slade said, relieved the day had not been canceled. True to his word, Slade had hired Bow Street Runners yesterday, with expectations they would search out Lady Evers and keep an eye on the Rothmore townhouse.
His footman held open the door to the black lacquered carriage as Slade handed Lady Bella onto the lush black leather seating. He helped her maid onto the opposite seat. Taking a seat next to Bella, the scent of rosewater reached his nose and stirred his senses. She was so close he wanted to reach out and touch her but resisted while Mary was watching.
The carriage lurched forward and moved in the direction of the park. Within minutes, the motion of the vehicle, the blankets covering their laps, and the warming brick by her feet seemed to lure Mary to sleep. Biting back a laugh, he wondered if she realized the duties of a chaperone involved staying awake. The two women seemed to be more friends than mistress and maid. A moment later, he noticed Mary’s head slumping over the stitchery she had taken with her. He doubted more than a few stitches were completed.
Feeling a little more at ease, he reached out and picked up Bella’s gloved hand, turning it over and slowly massaging his thumb in circles on her wrist. He felt her tense beneath his touch and wanted more.
A soft snore sounded from across the carriage and Mary’s head slumped a little more. Bella snorted, and he bit his tongue, unwilling to wake the sleeping chaperone. Slowly, he leaned closer to Bella and covered her lips with his, gently kissing her. Warming to the kiss, he teased her lips with the tip of his tongue. She took a breath, and he pressed harder, stealing into her mouth with his tongue. His breath heated and he pulled her towards him, compelled by a need to get close to her with only wordless communication between them.
“I have thought of little else but kissing you, Bella,” he whispered.
“If I am honest, you have occupied my thoughts as well, Slade.” Bella’s gaze locking with his, her violet eyes sparkling.
“If we are smart, we will separate and not risk waking your maid,” he said, touching her chin gently. “But I do not want to be smart. I want to kiss you.”
Without waiting for her reply, he covered her lips again, this time with more force, losing himself in the essence of her.
Slade could not help himself—hoping that their luck would hold. Pulling her closer, he kissed her lips and slowly moved his lips down her neck. A soft snore from across the carriage gave him confidence to lower his lips to the top of her décolleté, where he slowly lolled his tongue along the edge, feeling her body quicken beneath his touch. Her breath increased and he covered her mouth with his. After what seemed long minutes, he pushed back, realizing he was slowly reaching a point of no return—something that could not happen in a carriage with a sleeping chaperone and not with his beautiful Bella. He wanted more for her and would not compromise her.
“I cannot believe Mary is sleeping . . . again,” she said, giggling softly and looking into his eyes.
Both struggled to control their breathing and calm it to a normal rhythm before Mary awoke. A pothole in the road jerked the coach and a with a short snore, Mary woke.
“I do not think they have ever widened the Serpentine,” Slade said, thinking quickly and speaking as if responding to a question Bella had asked, in an effort not to embarrass the maid. From the corner of his eye, he caught her look of horror as she realized she had fallen asleep. Bella quickly caught on to what he was doing and responded.
“How many bridges are there in the park to cross the Serpentine?” she asked.
