All I Ever Needed Page 32
He was all hard muscle and tension, his need defined in the taut features of his face, in skin that was pulled too tightly. His embrace was too intense to be sheltering, too demanding to be comfortable. It was exactly what she wanted, this raw, naked need of his, and the sense that he could not get close enough to her, or thrust too deeply.
Her teeth caught his lobe. She bit gently, and she told him what she wanted, her breath hot against his skin. The words were ones she had learned from him, but on her lips they were earthy, not rough, and he knew himself to be as helpless as she had been earlier.
They collapsed together, arms flung wide, legs tangled. Sophie's hair hung over the side of the bed, and she thought that if East moved, she would simply slide limp and liquid to the floor. When he raised his head, she pushed it back to her shoulder, and she thought she heard a small, raspy chuckle, though she could not imagine how he came by the strength to summon it.
They lay in just such an abandoned posture until their breathing eased and their limbs where once again sound enough to lift. East rolled away and pulled Sophie the few inches necessary to keep her from spilling onto the cold floor. She turned on her stomach and buried her face in a pillow that was filled with the scent of both of them.
"Did you really tell me that you wanted me to—" East stopped, bent close to her head, and whispered the rest of it in her ear. Sophie's short, embarrassed moan was proof that she had said exactly that. Eastlyn lifted part of the heavy curtain of Sophie's hair and brushed it back so that he could make out a measure of her flushed profile. She turned her head just the fraction required to look at him with one accusing eye. "It is to be my fault, then," he said, unconcerned and unrepentant. "You mean to charge me with putting those words in your mouth."
"I mean to charge you with pulling them out of it."
He grinned as she placed her face squarely in the pillow again. "You are going to suffocate." Her muffled reply was unintelligible, and Eastlyn let it pass. Turning on his side, he laid one arm lightly across her back. She fit herself to him without any urging, and for a time they slept.
East woke first and was already preparing a luncheon for them when Sophie arrived in the kitchen. She set the table and added a kettle to the hearth for tea while he stirred the soup pot. When it was time to sit, East did not miss that Sophie placed herself somewhat gingerly in her chair. She intercepted his look of concern and warned him with a quelling glance that he should not inquire. Because he believed she was fully capable of throwing her soup bowl at him, East did not challenge her.
The ache that made Sophie ease herself into her chair was more of a certain awareness of her body than strictly a discomfort. She could still feel the pressure of East's hands on her breasts, at the small of her back, and cupping the rounds of her buttocks, but between her thighs it was the absence of him that she felt most keenly. No matter how uninhibitedly she had expressed herself in their bed, this was not a subject to be discussed over soup.
Later, they walked along High Street almost the entire way to the cove. There was more than a touch of winter in the air this afternoon, but the chill was bracing, and the walk proved more invigorating than tiring. East bought Sophie some threads and ribbons. He would have purchased the milliner's entire supply of bonnets and gewgaws if she had expressed the least interest, but she was wholly satisfied with the ribbons. It occurred to him that her lack of interest in fashion might make her an inexpensive wife. He said as much to her when they passed the dressmaker's shop and she did not glance once at the window.
"It is not difficult to have little interest in such things when your taste is far superior to my own, and I know that you will never permit me to go about shabbily." She gave him a sideways glance and saw he was much struck by her reasoning. "I think you will find it quite expensive to turn me out to your satisfaction."
"You are wrong, Sophie." He tipped his hat and bid a good afternoon to Mrs. Godwin, the harbormaster's wife, who had three of her five children in tow. When the parade had moved on, he added, "It will not cost me a farthing to keep you naked and abed."
Sophie would have stumbled and fallen if East had not had her arm. She glanced over her shoulder to make certain he had not been overheard. The Godwin children were chattering happily, and their mother was making a critical study of the gown in the dressmaker's window. "You should not say such things," she whispered. "Why, Mrs. Godwin—"
One of East's eyebrows kicked up. "I believe that Mrs. Godwin's brood is proof that she has a husband whose thinking is similar to mine."
Sophie realized that if she did not want to suffer more of the same, she would have to distract him. To that end, she led him to the bookseller's shop and proceeded to prove how very expensive she could be.
"You emptied my pockets," he said as they stepped onto the footbridge to the street. "Now I know I shall have to keep you—"
She trod upon his foot. "In the library?" she asked sweetly. "That is what you meant to say, is it not?"
East agreed that it probably was, but when they arrived home he put her over his shoulder and carried her straightaway to bed.
* * *
It was after dinner, when they were sitting much as they had the night before in their separate places near the fire, that Eastlyn told her about Dunsmore and his arrangement with Mrs. Sawyer. He watched Sophie's fingers momentarily still in plying her needle when she heard the name of his former mistress.
"That is peculiar, don't you think?" she asked him, attending to her work again. "Did they know each other before your name was linked to mine?"
"I don't think so."
That was Sophie's suspicion as well. "I suppose Harold has kept a mistress before. Abigail has never mentioned it, though. Perhaps she was as unaware as I was." She glanced at him. "What do you suppose it means?"
"I don't know. It might have no significance."
"You do not believe that. How long was Mrs. Sawyer your mistress?"
East had resigned himself to discussing this frankly when he broached the subject; however, it did not mean he was in any way comfortable with it. "Six months, I think. It could have been longer. There was the obvious purpose to our liaison, Sophie, but nothing beyond it."
"Not on your part, mayhap," she said. "But Mrs. Sawyer wanted a husband. Do you suppose she wants the same of Harold?"
"Your cousin is married."
Sophie regarded East directly and made sure her tone was carefully neutral. "And my father was the Earl of Tremont and now he is dead. I have learned that when people decide what they want, there are any number of ways they might achieve their ends."
Chapter 13
Sir James Winslow handed a glass of sherry to his wife. It seemed to him that she clutched the stem of the glass rather more tightly than she ought to. Outwardly she was composed, but this tight grip of hers was the real expression of her confusion.
He decided not to join her on the upholstered bench and stood just slightly behind her instead. In this position she could sense his nearness and rely on his ability to catch her if she simply keeled over.
It was a shock, of course. There was no getting around that Gabriel had served them something more than was easily taken in at one sitting. As difficult as it was for him to digest the particulars, dear Franny looked as if she could not yet swallow.
Sir James allowed his glance to shift from his son to his new daughter-in-law. Like Franny, she appeared perfectly composed, but he sensed in her a desire to flee the room. It was not that she held too tightly to a glass of sherry, but that her hands held too tightly to each other. The clasp was nearly bloodless. Sir James found he still had enough good sense to smile as Gabriel absently reached out and covered both of Sophie's hands. Beside him, he felt some of the tension seep from Franny's shoulders. She had observed her son's gesture and knew it for the protective, loving expression that it was.
"You are quite certain your marriage must be kept secret," Sir James said, directing his comment to his son.
"Yes," East said. "But for as little time as possible."
Franny sipped her sherry and was grateful for the immediate calming influence that spirits had on her. "I don't believe I comprehend the necessity. You will have to explain it to me again."
East smiled. "Again? That sort of trickery is beneath you, Mother. I did not explain it even once. I asked that you trust me that it must be so." He tilted his head toward Sophie and spoke in feigned confidential tones. "You would do well to guard your tongue around her, for she is very good at eliciting information. Growing up, Cara and I confessed to all manner of things we had vowed to keep to ourselves."
Sophie's eyes widened faintly.
"He is impudent, is he not?" Franny asked.
East squeezed Sophie's hands lightly. "That is strictly rhetorical. Mother knows the answer."
Sir James chuckled as Sophie's glance darted between Gabriel and Franny, as though trying to determine if offense was taken on either side. "You must not mind them," he said. "They are each quite able to hold their own, but then I suspect you recognize that. I imagine the same can be said of you."
Sophie lifted her eyes to Sir James's kind face. He was not a tall man, nor particularly broad of shoulder, but he was solid and steady with a patient, considering air about him that Sophie found comforting. This was the man, she remembered, who read her manuscript, who knew the bent of her mind perhaps better than her own husband. He had dark, intelligent eyes and a way of holding his head slightly to one side that gave the impression of perpetual thoughtfulness. A faint smile hovered about his mouth even in this pensive mode. He wore spectacles to read, and they rested below the bridge of his nose so he could look over the top of the thin gold frames.
Sophie felt those keen eyes on her now as he awaited her reply. "I cannot say that I hold my own any longer, or indeed, that I have anything left to hold."
"Worn you down, has he?" Sir James asked.
Straightening, Eastlyn cleared his throat. "She would like me to think that." The shadow of his smile passed, and he regarded his parents gravely. "I regret that so much has been done without your knowledge. You should know that Sophie wanted me to write to you so that you might be forewarned of our arrival and the circumstances surrounding it. Perhaps if I could have persuaded her to pen the thing herself, you would have received such a missive, for she is infinitely more capable of expressing herself in the written word than I am."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sophie's head swivel in his direction. Until that moment he doubted she'd had any idea of how much of her work he had read. "I elected to tell you such things as I can in this manner because I wish to make myself understood. I wanted you to meet Sophie here, with me, and observe for yourself that I am fully content with the decisions I have made."
"That is perfectly apparent," Franny said. "I wonder, though, if your wife is of a similar mind, or if she has simply surrendered her judgment to yours."
East removed his hand from Sophie's lap. "Such a thing is not possible, Mother."
Sophie felt the full force of Lady Winslow's skeptical gaze. "I was in every way agreeable to my husband's plans. I wanted to be married in Clovelly with the same dispatch as he, even knowing as I did that it might give you reason to hold me in little esteem. Eastlyn would take a great deal upon his own shoulders and have me be blameless in your eyes, but we know, even if he does not, that I bear at least equal responsibility. In my defense, I can only offer up the fact that I love your son, and that I will do whatever is in accord with my feelings for him as long as I am not asked to compromise what I know to be right."
Franny glanced at Sophie's abdomen and then met her gaze squarely. "You seem to have rather broadly defined what is right. If Gabriel had not found you, you would have brought my grandchild into the world a bastard."
"Mother!"
"Franny."
Sophie paled a little, but her chin came up, and she set her shoulders. "You are right to have disgust of me, and I would never fault you for it. I cannot ask you to feel differently when there is so little I can explain to you now. I also know that an explanation might not suffice. I would only ask that you do whatever is in accord with your feelings for your son and not compromise your conscience. I can accept that."
Lady Winslow cocked one eyebrow, subjecting Sophie to her cool scrutiny for several long moments. "You and I will deal well together, I think," she said at last. "Which may be in every manner as important as how you and Gabriel get on."
"More important," Sophie said softly.
"Just so." Franny's eyes slid away from Sophie's and darted between her son and her husband. She did not miss the knowing glances they exchanged. "You must not be fooled by them," she told Sophie. "They look as if they comprehend what happened here, but it is only a pretense. They haven't the least idea."
Eastlyn chuckled as his father rolled his eyes. This earned him a stern glance from his mother while Sir James escaped notice. Holding up his hands, palms out, East warded off Franny's censure as much as surrendered to it. "It is always a lesson to me how the female sex can go at a thing without drawing pistols."
Franny merely smiled, this time in concert with Sophie. "Tell me about the house he has found for you. If you must needs pretend there is no marriage, I hope he has at least arranged a decent home. I suppose I shall not be allowed to visit and see for myself."
East heard the wistfulness in his mother's voice and interrupted Sophie's reply. "You cannot, Mother. For the time being, no one must suspect that Sophie has a connection to my family."
"Surely you don't expect that I should give her the cut direct in public."
"Not at all. At social functions you must treat her no differently than you would anyone. To do otherwise would cause comment. I would not have hired a hack for her this evening, or brought her here under cover of darkness, if I did not think it was important that we not be seen together save at a public function."
Sir James folded his arms across his chest and regarded East with a measure of skepticism. "You will have to tread more carefully than the rest of us in public, Gabriel. You have only to look at your wife and everyone around will know you have deep feelings for her. You might be able to school your features when you're negotiating terms, but that inscrutability is remarkably lacking when you glance at your lady wife."
Franny nodded, a half smile playing about her lips. "He's right, you know. It has never been in doubt, at least to my mind, that you love Sophia. With so many other precautions already in place, perhaps it would be wise for you not to see her in any public venue."
East shook his head. "That isn't possible. The French ambassador's winter ball is next week. I have already given North my word that I will be there. There is an invitation for Sophie as well."
"But you do not mean to escort her, do you?" Sir James asked.
"No. She will be accompanied by Lady Gilbert. Her ladyship is actually a distant relation on Sophie's mother's side. Lady Gilbert has traveled all the way from the Lake District to join Sophie and will lend her countenance so that she may go about in public without comment. They will be companions to each other, though Lady Gilbert knows nothing of the marriage. It remains a very small circle that know we are wed."
Sir James's mouth curled to one side as he considered this. "Colonel Blackwood?"
"Yes."
"North and the others?"
This time Eastlyn shook his head. "I haven't said anything to them. North has much to occupy him at the moment, and South is still away from London."
Franny released a sigh. "I do not know what tricks Northam is up to since Elizabeth returned, but I suspect South has taken up with that actress one hears so much about." She glanced at her husband. "What is her name again? I can never—"
"Miss India Parr."
"Yes, that's it. And Lady Redding is beside herself with the notion that her son may be besotted with an opera dancer." She eyed Sophie again. "That is something, at least," she said. "You are not an opera dancer."
East gave her a wry, sideways look. "You will give her an attack of the vapors, Sophie."
Franny tapped the rim of her glass with her forefinger. "If I did not faint at the news that you are married, or that there is to be a child, then I think I deserve a modicum of respect for the state of my nerves." She sipped her sherry. "What of West? Why have you said nothing to him?"
"West is still coming to terms with his inheritance."
"I think you are underestimating your friends. You have always made time for one another. North. South. East. West. Friends for life, we have confessed. All other truths, we'll deny. For we are soldier, sailor, tinker, spy. Is that not your club charter?"
"Yes, and at the moment it is North who has asked for, and will receive, our assistance."
"It is that Gentleman Thief business, isn't it?" Franny asked, resigned. "That is why you must be at the ambassador's ball."
East said nothing and allowed his mother to draw her own conclusions. He was not surprised when she took his silence as a confession.
"Oh, it is," she said. "Never say you mean to allow Sophie to be part of that intrigue."
Sir James laid a cautionary hand on Franny's shoulder. "Gabriel knows what he is doing, Franny. He would not place Sophie or his child in the least danger."
"Thank you for that," East said. He felt Sophie's hand slip into his and give his fingers a gentle squeeze. "If you have any lingering doubts, Mother, you must respond favorably to your own invitation and see for yourself that nothing untoward is happening."
"You may depend upon it."
"Thank you for that," Sir James said with a touch of irony. "You know how I enjoy these affairs. Rather be reading."
Sophie was immediately sympathetic. "So would I, though this ball seems as if it might have something to recommend it. Perhaps, Sir James, you would like to accompany me to the ambassador's library and—"