Page 19 of Loving a Dowager
The crackle of the fire inside broke his train of thought. He waited for any indication Henrietta might not be alone. Silence. He shouldn’t delay a moment longer; the Network and Landon’s own footmen probably kept close guard on the family quarters. Walter raised his knuckles and rapped on the window. The latch clicked open and Henrietta’s flushed face appeared as she raised the window sash. “I was beginning to question whether or not you were going to make an appearance.”
Relief swept through him as he slipped through the window. In an effort to distract himself from her tempting pursed lips, he pulled out his pocket watch. “Am I late? Do you not dine at nine?” She remained close, too tempting with her chin tilted up.
With a slight frown creasing her brow, Henrietta said, “I do, but most families dine at eight.”
“But you do not run a traditional household nor adhere to societal norms.” He moved to remove his outer garments, but Henrietta reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders. Even through all the layers of clothing, he shivered. She divested him of his hat, then his great coat, and took his gloves. Without a word she walked across the room.
Mesmerized by the sway of her hips, he remained stock still. She made her way over to the settee, turned, and bent to place the articles of clothing on the side table. Without pause, she continued on to the quaint dining table set with dinner for two. Without footmen to attend to them, he should have followed her. He ought to be standing next to Henrietta instead of ogling her perfectly plump rear covered in glorious indigo silk.
Rushing forward to retrieve the chair for her, he reached her with a moment to spare. “I wanted to thank you for agreeing to this unorthodox meeting.”
His heart raced either from his quick pace to reach her or from merely being alone with the woman. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A mistake. Henrietta’s signature scent of violets hit him, bringing to mind the time they sat high up in a tree limb, him with his back pressed up against the trunk and hers pressed up against his chest. He remembered resting his chin on her shoulder pretending to read over her shoulder but in fact his eyes were closed. Knowing it would be the last time they would scale the tree together, he had savored every moment, memorized the smells, the sounds, and the feel of her between his legs. He opened his eyes to find her head tilted up towards him.
“I’m anything but orthodox, as you have already noted.” The cheeky curve of her lips highlighted the faint lines that came with age. Lines that tempted him, begging him to come closer. To be seen.
They hadn’t yet dined.
To hell with propriety.
Three decades of restraint fell to the wayside. He placed a hand on the back of her chair and bent down, lowering until her breath brushed over his mouth. She stole his breath away. To his astonishment, she twisted and reached up to wrap a hand about the back of his neck. With a gentle pressure, she drew him down to her. No innocent brushing of lips from Henrietta. He relished the taste of her as their tongues collided and her fingers weaved through his hair. Weak from their kiss, he dropped to his knees. Unwilling to relinquish the lips of the woman he’d loved for the majority of his life, he cupped her face and grazed her bottom lip with a long stroke of his tongue. She leaned in and captured his prying tongue between her lips. Henrietta’s kisses were passionate, full of flavor and excitement, just like her.
A soft mewl escaped Henrietta, and he pulled back. “We should dine…”
Henrietta grinned and bent to kiss him once more. This time encircling him with both arms, she hugged him to her. Her lush breasts pressed against his chest. Cursing the clothing that separated them, Walter regained his strength and rose, pulling her up with him as they waltzed backward toward the settee. Henrietta fell atop of him as the back of his calves hit the edge of the furniture.
Settled on top of him, she giggled. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but you are an extraordinary kisser. Is there nothing you do poorly?”
There were a multitude of tasks he underperformed, but with all the blood vacating his mind, he was left with only the ability to give her a non-verbal response. He raised both eyebrows and shrugged, which evoked another giggle from Henrietta. He ceased her laughter with a kiss that had her sighing a moan as he nibbled down her neck.
His fingers searched for the ends of two ties that should release Henrietta from the dratted dress that covered her beautiful body. Instead, his fingers met with a row of hard round objects. Buttons! It had been some time since he last dallied with a lady.Of course, fashions had to have changed, making it harder to undress a woman.
Walter removed his lips from Henrietta’s and growled, “Damn the woman who designed this blasted gown.”
Henrietta reeled back, her features filled with mirth. She stared down at him, “Surely you wouldn’t really condemn my dear beloved daughter-in-law, Emma.”
“Emma? I was under the assumption…” He sealed his lips shut. He wasn’t supposed to know of the Hadfield family ties to PORFs or the Network. Attempting to recover his mistake he quickly said, “Nay. I’d never wish ill upon Christopher’s lovely wife.” He tapped the buttons and added, “However, I shall have a word with her about these gowns upon her return.”
Henrietta’s narrowed gaze searched his features. She placed her hands flat against his chest and pushed herself up. She rolled to her feet with a grace that bellied her years to stand over him with her hands on her hips once more. “How is it you are so certain that she and Christopher shall return?”
Adjusting his crumpled clothing back to rights, Walter sat upright and patted the cushion next to him. Releasing a deep sigh, Henrietta obliged and sank down next to him. Taking her hand in his, he weaved his fingers with hers. He stared at their entwined fingers for a moment and relief washed over him as Henrietta curled her fingers over his.
Face-to-face, Walter confessed, “I came across a number of documents—trade agreements that Christopher was in the midst of drafting, complex arrangements that could only be completed if he were to return.”
“Trade contracts, you say. Who were the parties involved?”
The details were not for him to share. He hated denying her questions. But the agreements were incomplete, and it would not be in good faith to disclose particulars that were still in negotiations. He remained quiet and shook his head.
“Your features would indicate you do not agree with the terms.”
He should ignore her remark. Damn, he’d never be able to deny Henrietta. Walter relented. “It is not that I disagree… However, there are a multitude of considerations to take into account when dealing with foreign merchants, and yet, these agreements would have a significant impact upon the livelihoods of many here, some now directly linked to your own family.”
“I married a barrister and raised two. That, my dear lord, was a cleverly constructed response that told me nothing I didn’t already know.” Henrietta’s disappointment was clear. There would be no more kisses. She untangled her hand from his and stood. He followed her back to the dining table and sat across from her. They both removed the silver covers and silently assessed their plates.
When she wouldn’t meet his gaze, he asked, “Have you changed your mind? Would you prefer to dine alone?”
“No.” She shook her head and with her brows knitted, continued, “I know it’s unfair of me to compare, but George never withheld information from me. I had hoped…well, I’d thought perhaps… What I’m trying to say is I’d like for us…”
He hated her struggle to define what it was she wanted. To add levity, he finished her third attempt for her. “To be close friends like we were prior to you running off and marrying George.”
