Slowly his tension eased and he loosened his embrace. “Thank you,mon ange,my lovely angel of the night,” he panted. “I hope you didn’t find that upsetting?”
“Not at all, it was my pleasure.” She relaxed against him, feeling satisfied herself. She smiled into the darkness. “You realize what this means?”
“A number of things,” he murmured. “What are you thinking?”
“We can dispense with sandwich sleeping!”
His deep chuckle reverberated through his chest. “Very true! Can you join me on my layer? I don’t think I have the strength to move.”
Feeling vastly pleased with herself, she rolled from the bed and sorted through the blankets to reach him. She crawled under the covers, glad to eliminate the layers that had separated them. He cuddled her close and kissed her temple. “Sleep well,mon ange.”
She made a purring sound and rested her hand in the center of his chest. Lulled by the rhythm of his heart, she fell into a deep sleep, wondering what the next day would bring.
* * *
Simon woke feeling peace so vast that it seemed a dream. Could it have been? No, Suzanne was curled up against him like a contented kitten, her arm across his chest and a faint smile on her lips.
She stirred and stretched, again like a lithe, lovely feline. He murmured, “Our new servants will be here this week. Shall we tell them that they must never, ever enter our bedrooms unannounced?”
“Not even if they are bearing morning hot chocolate?” she said mischievously.
“Not even then,” he said firmly. “These moments relaxing with you are too precious.”
They lay together in peaceful silence awhile longer. He idly stroked her back. Then, carefully, her side, before slowly moving his hand to the front of her body.
When he spread his palm over the gentle curve of her belly, she froze. “I am not ready for that,” she said in a tight voice.
He instantly removed his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize when I don’t know myself what will upset me.”
She was trying to keep her voice calm, but he could hear the stress. She had already come a long way in a short time; if she never felt comfortable with greater intimacy, he would still be a lucky man.
He kissed her forehead. “Shall we rise for breakfast? I’m told that Madame Mercier has hired an assistant cook who bakes croissants so light they float off the plate.”
“We must certainly sample them!” Suzanne said as she swung from the bed. “Croissants with orange marmalade would be a perfect blending of French baking and British sweets.”
“Don’t forget the coffee,” he said. Even better than a croissant was the fact that he could admire her across the breakfast table.
Simon and Suzanne both browsed newspapers as they enjoyed their croissants, marmalade, and coffee. In the garden outside, daffodils were exploding into bloom in the spring sunshine. Simon thought it was one of those ordinary moments that was also perfect. “I wonder how long we can prolong our honeymoon. At some point I need to start attending to my responsibilities, but I’m in no hurry.”
“Those companies where you’re apart owner?” Suzanne asked as she took a delicate bite from her second croissant.
“Those, plus the estate. They have good managers but I need to pay attention, visit the premises, meet the people who do the work. I owe it to them, and attention is useful for maintaining productivity.”
A maid entered with a silver salver that held a letter for Simon. As she withdrew, Simon broke open the letter. “The world might be catching up with us,” he said after he scanned the brief note. “This is from Kirkland and he wants us to call this morning if that’s convenient. Both of us.”
“I imagine he wonders if we heard anything interesting last night.”
“Very likely.” But Simon’s spying intuition was twitching. There might be more than that to Kirkland’s request.
* * *
Kirkland greeted them amiably and welcomed them into his study, where he rang for tea and coffee. When they’d arrived and been served, Simon said, “I’m sorry to have no great revelations from the émigrés. I talked to most of the men and they all seemed to think that it’s just a matter of time till Napoleon escapes from Elba. When that might happen and what would come next”—Simon shrugged—“no one knows. We learned that Morlaix is a swine who shouldn’t be allowed near any female, but I didn’t see or sense anything suggesting the group contained a dangerous spy.”
“Thank you for looking them over. Even if there is a serious spy among the men you met, events are moving so quickly that it might not matter,” Kirkland said flatly. “But émigrés are not the primary reason I asked you to call. You had asked if I might be able to find out more about the fate of your cousin, Lucas Mandeville.”
Simon found that he suddenly could not breathe. “And?”
