Caversham, Spring 1852
Alice didn’t mind ifthey ever returned to London. Stonely Grange wasn’t merely restored to its former grandeur, it was much improved.
One thing she’d learned in the interim between when the Grange had been ravaged and when she’d walked room-by-room with Adam to plan its refurbishing was she preferred less to more. She liked the open spaces. Instead of minimal furniture and fewer bric-a-brac making the Grange seem empty, it felt freeing.
Especially since Alice liked to pace, either when happy and thinking or distraught and worrying, not that she could recall the last time she was either of the latter.
“No one in London would consider this finished,” Adam said as they sat with their feet up on the same ottoman, leaning back on a velvet couch in their upstairs private salon.
“Don’t you think so?” Alice asked, glancing around at this, one of the last rooms they’d completed since it was unimportant to the daily life of the manor.
Now that it was done, they were enjoying it. “But it is so peaceful and functional. A sofa for sitting, a place for our feet, a table at either end for our drinks and lamps. We have a mirror to add light and space, a painting for beauty and to engage the mind, and plenty of books to capture the imagination.”
Why was Adam laughing at her?
“You sound like one of those long-winded, zealous advertisements in the newspaper or a theatre bill. But you are selling the joy ofnotbuying.”
“I am,” she agreed. “Maybe we could add another sideboard and put a lace doily in the center and, upon that, a red glass. Mr. Henry has plenty of flowers we could pinch. Would that help?”
Adam was laughing at her again. “Let’s keep it as it is,” he said. “All of it. We’ll live with the Viking raid style until we tire of it.”
She smacked his thigh resting against her own. “It is not a Viking raid style. It is uncluttered — ”
“Stark,” he interjected.
“Tastefully understated,” she retorted.
“Unusually austere,” he shot back.
“Discreet.”
“Spartan as if we have lost all our money,” he said, before laughing again at her wide-eyed expression.
Alice shook her head. “Now I see the issue. It reflects badly upon the Diamond name if every wall isn’t filled with gilded mirrors and oil paintings. We ought to buy a few dozen framed ocean scenes and bowls of fruit. If we can actually see the patternon the soft wool rug, then we ought to add a few dozen chairs and tables to cover every square inch.”
He turned his whole body to face her, giving himself better access, and started to tickle her. Her husband had discovered her vulnerability only a month ago and used it to his advantage.
“No,” she squealed, leaning away from his probing fingers, a hand at each side of her rib cage. Still, she teased, “Maybe two more sofas in this room alone.”
Against the armrest, Alice couldn’t squirm away. Grabbing his hands, she tried to hold them still. Breathlessly, she added, “Maybe we need to put a pink glass fountain in the middle of the house.”
Instantly, Adam ceased his torment and rested those same large hands upon each of her breasts. “I would rather have an alabaster statue of you.”
“For any guests to see?” she asked. Her husband wasn’t a dreadfully jealous man, but he was possessive. “What about our staff? You don’t mind the footmen dusting my marble thighs.”
He put his head back and laughed. “You are a minx. I would keep it covered except for when we were alone. For my eyes only. Both would add a certain polish to the Grange, a ten-foot statue and an indoor fountain.”
“Like the perfect panache of feathers upon a lady’s hat,” she said.
“Indeed,” he answered, and his thumbs started teasing her nipples through the soft combed cotton of her gown.
“Snout-nose,” Alice muttered in an attempt to win the debate before she was overcome with desire for him and lost her ability to speak. For her husband knew precisely how to stroke her body, playing her like a musician of the highest caliber, until she was unable to think.
Adam froze. “I vow I am not.” He appeared uncertain. “I promise you I don’t need to flaunt my wealth.”
Rolling her eyes, she assured him, “I was speaking in jest. I know who you are, Lord Diamond. Now, touch me again.”
He relaxed. “We don’t need anything more to make Stonely perfect,” he added, cradling her face in his hands. Then he leaned over her to kiss her.
