Their joining became a precious intimacy, one not to be rushed, the first ever after acknowledging their love. The sight of him, the feel of him—she knew she would remember all of it forever, from the first press of his fullness to the image of him braced above her to the love-drenched ecstasy at the end.
She held him to her afterward, with her arms and legs wrapping him. She could not have held back her love even if she wanted to. Free now, no longer bound by questions or guilt or worries, it moved her to where she quietly wept with happiness.
* * *
Late that night, Clara slipped from the bed while Adam slept. She pulled on her dress and half fastened it so she would at least be covered. Taking the lamp, she went down the stairs. The household had all gone to their chambers except the footman at the door, and he slept at his post.
She made her way to the study and sat at Adam’s desk. She set the lamp close to her and lifted those papers from the corner.
She did not have to read any of these, but she wanted to.
The letter to his mother lay on top. It was four pages long. Not a single word had been crossed out. She guessed he had written several drafts that would show many changes, and this was the final version.
It felt odd reading his words to this mother she had never met. He addressed her with a son’s informality, even intimacy. His love for her came through, even if he never used that word. Paragraph by paragraph he told her what he had learned about the events leading up to his father’s death. On the fourth page he explained the revelations discovered by the man sent to Paris at the behest of the Earl of Marwood.
That evidence had been damning in Brentworth’s letter and was equally damning here. Adam did not try to qualify any of it. Jewelry owned by them had been sent to France.Only one question remains, he wrote.Did he send it, or did you?
He did not ask for an answer. He made no accusations. That question just sat there, before he added two paragraphs with information about the estate.
She set the last page down. He had not sent this. It did not yet bear a date. This might have been written days ago. She pictured him anguishing over sending it, trying to decide if he needed to know or even wanted to.
Her heart broke for him. He had come back to England to clear his father’s name. How horrible to discover that he only could do so if he found he could betray his mother instead.
She wiped her eyes of the tears welling up in them and set the letter aside. A page of notes labeledHollsworthfaced her. It included some of the information already found in the letter. She expected everything else in the stack would as well, but she flipped through anyway.
At the bottom she found a drawing. Two, actually, but of the same object. A necklace and diadem. Heavy and old-fashioned, they filled their pages. She thought it a beautiful set. This must be the jewelry that had disappeared from the family inventories and that Adam thought had ended up in France.
She moved the drawing closer to the lamp, then closer yet. She stared at it a long time. She stood, walked away, and looked out the windows into the night while she battled a profound sadness. Then she collected herself, returned to the desk, and folded one of the drawings. She returned to the bedchamber.
* * *
His dream shook. No, his body did. He opened his eyes to darkness.
Clara jostled his shoulder. “Light will break soon. I must go, Adam.”
He circled her waist with his arm and pulled her down on him. She fell with a squeal and tried to extricate herself. Black crepe covered his face while she fought him. She had already dressed. Well, that was easy enough to rectify. He groped for the fasteners of her dress.
She reached behind her back to slap at his hand. “Stop being naughty.”
“You do not have to go. Who will care or know if you stay? That housekeeper who brought me to your chamber our first night?”
She escaped his grasp, sat on the edge of the bed, then turned to hold his arms down, pressing with her weight.
“I seem to be imprisoned,” he said. “If you stay, I will let you bind me properly and do your worst.”
A flash of curiosity showed in her eyes, but she shook her head. “I have things I have to do this morning.”
“More mysterious doings?”
“Very mysterious.”
“If I ever convince you of marrying me, you will have to tell me about them.”
Suddenly serious, she cocked her head. “Will I? That argues against marriage, it seems to me.”
“I will tell you about any such doings I have too, so it is fair at least.”
She looked down at his chest and bent to give it a kiss. “You are proposing again. Are these settlement negotiations?”
