Page 74 of A Secret Consequence for the Viscount
‘Don’t stop.’ Her voice was harsh as she opened to him further. ‘Don’t ever stop.’
She was wicked and wanton and shameless as she called his name and rose again over the top of pleasure and into the realms of the gods Eros and Aphrodite, their voices calling only for her.
When it was finished he stood, his mouth coming over her own and she tasted herself on his tongue and liked it. Musky. Salty. Sweet. All the hues of desire and wanting and needing.
‘Love me, Nicholas. Love me for ever.’
‘I do, Eleanor. And I will.’
* * *
She was dressed when he awoke next and she insisted on going home alone before the dawn broke properly and London awoke into a new day.
‘Lucy will know I am missing if I stay and I don’t want her to think...’
‘Her mother has spent the night loving her father?’ His question broke over her words, but there was a warm note of teasing in his voice. ‘Meet me again tonight. Here.’
When she nodded it was as if everything in his world was right and he kissed her, softly this time and with intent.
‘Don’t come down with me, Nicholas. Let me remember you here, warm from sleep and naked.’
Without his clothes on he could do nothing but watch her open the door.
‘You asked for the Westmoor carriage to come back for you at this hour?’
‘I did.’
He smiled because the arrangement was so much like her, unusual and different.
‘Tell your brother I will call on him at one o’clock in the afternoon.’
She nodded and then she was gone.
* * *
The note came to the Bromley town house at nine-thirty in the morning and was delivered by Browne.
‘This came especially by one of the Duke of Westmoor’s servants, my lord. The message accompanying it stressed the fact that the Duke thought it might be important and you were to be made aware of it immediately.’
‘Thank you.’
When Nicholas looked at the writing on the missive he knew a momentary failing of hope. The same hand as the spymaster in the docklands. A new lead. Another pressing difficulty.
Meet me at noon. I have some new information that will interest you. Come alone.
The game had begun again then, he thought. It was just as it always had been in the Americas. Let your guard down for a moment and the demons would pounce.
They had in Boston and in Philadelphia and in Richmond. They had here in London, too, after the New Year’s dinner at Jacob’s when his carriage had been attacked.
Had someone been watching the house? Could they have seen Eleanor leave? Had they been observing him as he had visited Gunter’s and Lackington’s and the Bullock’s Museum with her at his side, laughing, listening.
Could they learn about Lucy, too? An innocent five-year-old child whose only crime was that she was his daughter.
The world began to spin and Nick sat down, trying with all his might to remember what had happened after he had been hit on the head in the alley behind Vitium et Virtus for any clue that might aid him. He’d already ruled out his uncle’s involvement, but having his full memory return was of utmost importance to Nick. If he could remember this part of his past then it might unlock other memories.
Two men had been waiting, crouched in the bushes just in the place his ring was found. They’d said something of collecting a gambling debt, he remembered that, as they had bashed him across his head. He had gone down heavily before getting up again to try to fight his way out of it. But the dizziness had been all consuming and although he managed a few more punches it had not been long until those who wanted him hurt had got the upper hand.
He remembered the moment he had twisted his ring off and thrown it into the bushes, a slow motioned arc that was then cut short by another heavy thud of wood over his head.
