“I’ve met with our guests. They’re gathered at the inn. I’ve offered to put them all up for the evening, and the Randalls were happy to accommodate them,” he told her and Mrs. Wells.
“Even the guest? The most important one,” Tess asked him.
Dominic swallowed and shook his head. “He won’t be coming.”
Tess’s heart fell.
“But,” Dominic said as he strode toward her and handed her a slip of paper, “he sent this.”
Tess looked down at the telegram and grinned. It was perfect. Not quite as perfect as the powerful nobleman banker’s appearance in Wiggenstow would have been. But Lord Rothschild’s influence couldn’t be dimmed by his absence. His words on the telegram would make an impact on Van Arsdale. The only question was whether it would be enough.
“We should change,” Dom reminded her.
They’d both brought clothing appropriate for a formal dinner, though for Tess that meant she was donning the same purple gown she’d worn to Priscilla Walcott’s again. Lord Fenbridge had insisted they take one of the guest rooms to make their preparations.
After giving their dear housekeeper Mrs. Wells a peck on the cheek, Tess made her way with Dominic upstairs to their borrowed room.
As soon as they stepped inside, Dominic took her in his arms and kissed her. He tasted her deeply, licking into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers as he lifted her off her toes and backed her against the closed door.
Tess pushed his coat from his shoulders, and when he broke the kiss, she turned so that her back was to him.
“Help me with my buttons?” she said breathlessly.
He did, and she could feel his breath coming fast against her nape, then his lips were there as he kissed and nipped at her skin.
When his hand came around to cup her breast through the fabric of her corset and chemise, she bucked back against him.
“The fact that I don’t have time to make love to you properly right now is criminal.”
Tess laughed as she turned and twined her arms around his neck. “We’ll have time afterwards.”
“You make it sound as if I am a patient man.”
She chuckled again. “The anticipation, though”—she arched up onto her tiptoes and drew her lips along his sharp jaw—“is delicious.”
“You, love, are delicious.” He started to inch her gown up, and she wanted him to taste her and make her shatter as much as he clearly wanted to. But they didn’t have time.
“I want to,” she told him, then bit her lip. “But I want to savor it.”
He bent until his forehead rested against hers. “Good God, I’ve found myself a logical wife.”
After pressing a kiss to her forehead, he stepped back and then went to retrieve her purple gown.
“This reminds me of our first kiss, so you’ll be driving me mad all evening in it.”
Tess approached and reached up to stroke her fingers through his thick, dark hair. “We’ll be driving each other mad.” She drew in a breath. “I just hope this works.”
“Me too, love.”
They got busy dressing then, Dom in his formal evening suit and Tess in her old violet gown. The dress accentuated her waist and décolletage, and she smiled when she noticedDominic watching her wolfishly. Then voices below stilled both their movements. Loud, boisterous voices.
“They’re here,” he said, and they strode toward each other, clasped hands, nodded, and made their way downstairs.
By the time they reached the ground floor, the Van Arsdales had headed up to their own borrowed rooms to wash and change, just as they’d anticipated they would.
The Fenbridge staff had been instructed not to breathe a word to the Van Arsdales about the plan unfolding. They only knew that a dinner was being prepared to celebrate their return.
Right on time, the guests that Dominic had invited began to arrive.
