Gareth turned his head at the outburst. He leaned forward and spoke to Lance. “What is wrong with him?”
“There is nothing wrong with me. I am shocked, that is all, that you are speculating about her when she has given you no cause to do so, other than being by nature tall.”
“I am not imaginingher, but the idea. The woman in my wondering is anonymous. Although I don’t understand why you are cross. We always wonder and speculate. You have never objected before,” Gareth said. “Unless—ahhh. My apologies, Ives. You said she was not your mistress, so I assumed—I did not realize that you had a tendre for her.”
“I do not have a tendre for her.”
“He does not have a tendre for her,” Lance echoed.
“It is not like that.”
“It is not like that,” Lance repeated. “Miss Belvoir is just an acquaintance. Afriend. A woman in need of sanctuary. Isn’t that right, Ives?”
“I think I will thrash both of you right now.”
“Quick-tempered, isn’t he?” Gareth asked.
“Miss Belvoir is a ticklish subject.”
“I suppose that means she won’t have him.”
“That is my conclusion. At least she won’t so far. Nor will he have her, while they are here. I have forbidden all such activity under my roof.”
Silence fell. They walked on. Ives tried to shed the anger that had him in its grip.
“Just so I understand,” Gareth said. “Did you forbiditonly with them, or is this a new house rule?”
“The No Sexual Congress at Merrywood edict applies to everyone,” Ives said. “Lance is damned annoyed that he has to behave, so he has decided no one will have pleasure if he cannot. You are forbidden too. He just neglected to tell you up to now.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Lance said. “His wife is in the family way. I did not need to forbid him.Nature has done it for me.”
Ives looked over at Gareth. Gareth smiled so broadly that moonlight reflected off his teeth.
They separated once inside the house. Lance retreated to his apartment, as ignorant as ever about women in Eva’s condition. Gareth went in search of his wife, presumably to have some forbidden pleasure with her, edict be damned. Ives decided a spot of brandy was in order, and repaired to the library.
To his surprise, he found Padua there. He thought she had retired like Eva.
She sat at one of the library tables, reading a large book. The lamp near her head cast a soft golden glow over her profile and the bodice of her yellow dress. She did not hear him enter. Her thick lashes remained at half-mast over her reading eyes.
He stayed near the door and admired the picture she made. Her long, lithe body angled over the book, buther back remained straight. Whatever she read gave her joy. The smallest smile lightened her expression, as if she listened to a friend speaking.
He should leave her to whatever engrossed her, but of course he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.I did not know you had a tendre for her. Perhaps he did. Desire alone would be simpler. He knew how to take care of desire.
Not for the first time since he had met her, he ignored the better sense that told him to walk away, that warned getting entangled would mean compromise at best, and scandal at worst, that suspected none of this was unplanned by her, and that she might be pulling the strings while he danced to her purpose like a puppet.
Right now all that mattered was that she was lovely, they were alone, and he wanted her.
CHAPTER13
Padua realized she was not alone a moment after she congratulated herself on translating an Italian inscription in one of the engravings. Not a sound had been made, but she recognized the presence in the room from the way the air changed. She knew who it was too.
She did not look over. She dared not until she calmed the reaction that spread through her. Delight. Excitement. Anticipation. None of those involuntary emotions boded well for her.
He walked toward her. She had to look then, and acknowledge him.
“You are deeply into that tome,” he said, looking over her shoulder. “What is it?”
“Eva showed it to me. It is full of engravings of paintings and buildings from the places she visited.”
