The Louise Allen Collection. Louise Allen
Then she smiled, curving her wide, generous mouth. Freckles danced across her cheeks as they rounded with the smile and the cool grey eyes sparkled. ‘My lord.’
‘Decima.’ Adam was across the room and had caught her in his arms before he could think. She gave a little gasp, but did not resist him, and her face tipped trustingly up to his. ‘Oh, God. I thought I’d never find you again.’
Her mouth was soft under his hard kiss, opening to him with an innocence that his previous embraces had still not taught to be knowing. It was that very innocence, the sweet scent of her, the way her palm fluttered against his cheek, that brought him to himself.
‘Decima,’ he said again, stepping back. ‘Forgive me, I was taken by surprise at seeing you. Please, will you not sit down.’ He gestured towards a chair, feeling hideously gauche, as formal now he had just been unforgivably free with her.
‘Thank you.’ She sank down gracefully and sat poised, watching him. She smiled suddenly, her nose wrinkling endearingly, and the elegant lady vanished to be replaced by the hoyden who groomed her own horses. ‘I was pleased to see you, too.’
Adam tugged at the bell pull before sitting opposite her. His heart was beating like a drum. Nothing mattered except that she was there.
‘Refreshments,’ he said impatiently as the butler appeared. He wanted to be alone with her, talk to her, put her at her ease—put himself at his ease, if it came to that.
‘You look…’ He struggled for the right word. ‘You look incredible. I hardly recognised you.’ Oh, no, that was hardly the most tactful thing to have said!
Decima produced the gurgle of laughter that never failed to make his heart stutter. ‘Better than when I was grooming horses, perhaps? Or perhaps better than my kitchen-maid look?’
‘Not better, just different.’ What was the matter with him? Normally he had the smooth tongue and the flattering touch of the accomplished rake. Decima reduced him to a gibbering idiot in seconds. ‘Have you forgiven me?’ Better get it over with. ‘I now know your brother’s name and who it was I fled from rather than meet before New Year.’
‘Oh.’ She looked at him, her head slightly tipped to one side like a curious robin. ‘How?’
‘I saw your portrait at Lady Brotherton’s.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands. ‘Hideous, is it not?’
‘I thought it was sad that no one seemed capable of seeing your true beauty,’ he said gently, and was rewarded by a glowing look from her grey eyes.
‘Thank you. You seem to see something that other people do not, which is kind of you.’
‘I am not kind,’ he retorted roughly. ‘Why have you come?’ Damn it, Adam, why not show a complete lack of finesse while you’re about it?
‘Ah. Now that is difficult.’ Her gaze dropped again and the colour mounted in her cheeks. ‘It was hard to come and speak to you like this, I don’t deny it. Especially after all the things I said about marriage and matchmakers.’
Her colour was positively hectic now. With a visible effort she raised her eyes to his face and said, ‘You might not be…happy about what I have to say, but I think one should be…honest about…about love.’
Love? She was telling him she loved him? ‘Decima.’ He reached out and took her hands in his. ‘Decima, I think you had better say what you mean.’
‘This is very difficult. Has Bates said anything to you?’
‘Bates? Go away,’ he snapped at Dalrymple, who opened the door, a tray of refreshments neatly balanced on one gloved hand.
‘Very good, my lord.’ The butler executed a smart turn and removed himself.
‘What the hell has Bates got to do with anything?’ She was going to tell him she had fallen passionately for Bates, that was it. His life could hardly be in more of a mess.
‘It is Pru. I think she is in love with him. But you know what he’s like—so taciturn. I thought if you could drop a hint, let him know where she was to be found—then, if he was interested in her, he might make contact.’
‘I see,’ Adam said flatly, sitting back in his chair. ‘So this is all about Bates and Pru. You would not have come to find me if it had not been for that. Just how serious is it?’
He seemed to have flustered her. Good, Adam thought viciously, then hated himself.
‘Things apparently became quite…that is…I did worry at one point that she might be with child,’ Decima admitted, her high colour returning. ‘But fortunately not. But I have no idea if his affections are engaged, or simply his, er, physical reactions.’
Well, good for Bates, Adam thought bitterly. To manage a seduction with a broken leg argued a determination and aplomb he had been unaware of. In fact, he doubted he could have accomplished it himself. And the old devil had the nerve to lecture me about propriety!
‘By all means let us put ourselves about to secure the happiness of others,’ he said, hating the sarcastic edge to his voice. Decima looked bemused at his tone. Of course, he thought, she has no idea what I feel for her. How could she? She thinks she has had a salutary experience with a rake, that is all. ‘Are you sure it would not be—let me be sure I have the words right—a piece of meddling?’
‘Yes, I am sure,’ Decima snapped back, her understandable anger at his tone finally overcoming her good manners. ‘Pru wants to find out what he feels for her, that is all. He can choose to ignore the information if he so wishes—she has far too much pride to pursue him.’
She got to her feet in a swirl of skirts, so suddenly that he had to scramble to stand, too. ‘If you wish to have nothing to do with it, then I will go down to the mews and see him on the pretext of asking about Fox. You have absolutely no need to trouble yourself about the emotional well-being of your servants or mine, my lord. Good day to you.’
‘Decima.’ Adam managed to get between her and the door before she could swing it open and stalk out. ‘I beg your pardon. I was so taken aback at seeing you.’ Her eyebrows rose haughtily. ‘Yes, I know, that is no excuse. I feel guilty about how I behaved at my sister’s. I feel worse about what I said in your hearing. And I wanted to find you and could not and that hurt.’
‘So you were sulking?’ she suggested sweetly.
‘I do not—’ He met her eyes, saw the wicked glint in them and smiled ruefully. ‘Probably,’ he admitted. Now they were so close, the urge to take her in his arms again was a tangible force, as though someone was pushing him towards her. He knew how her skin would taste, how her mouth would feel under his, how her long, lovely body would fit and slide against his. He wanted to make love to her until she screamed his name and begged him never to stop. He wanted all the things he could not have.
‘Shall we go down to the mews, or would you like some refreshments first?’
‘Oh, the mews, please. Have you brought Fox up to town with you?’ She shot him a slanting, sideways look as he opened the door for her. ‘Will you still agree to put him to my mare, now we have made up our quarrel?’
‘Have we been quarrelling?’
‘Just a little bit, I think. Margery, come along, we are going down to the mews with his lordship.’ The maid, a quiet girl who had been sitting on a hard chair in the hall, stood and helped Decima into her pelisse, then curtsied to Adam. ‘I thought it better not to bring Pru,’ she confided quietly. ‘Now, if you wait until we are close to Bates before you ask me my direction, that should do it.’
Decima slipped her hand into the crook of Adam’s arm and let him guide her down the steps and along the pavement of Portman Square. Margery, borrowed from Lady Freshford, followed behind at a discreet distance like the well-trained attendant she was.
The