Page 22 of A Scandalous Proposition
‘Very well. To please you, I shall do so.’
‘Good, then that’s settled. Now tell me again how you found Mrs Phillips this morning. Is she likely to recover?’
They talked for some minutes about that unfortunate lady. Much sooner than Florentina would have liked, the dowager yawned behind her hand, remarking that the day had been a very full one and that she was fatigued.
With no further reason to delay, Florentina retired to her chamber and, hands trembling with nerves, slowly released her hair from its severe braid. She brushed it vigorously, pulling at the roots until her scalp tingled and the hair itself fell in thick sleek waves almost to her waist.
With a feeling of impending doom, she retrieved the silk gown from the recesses of her closet and slowly stepped into the petticoats.
Chapter Six
Adam delayed his return to the Court until he was confident that Philippa would have retired for the night. She would resent his absence from her dinner table and he would prefer to avoid an argument until he had a better idea what game she was playing. He made for the side door that led from the stables, discouraged to see lights still burning in the drawing room. He stealthily made his way across the entrance vestibule, only to be intercepted by Kennedy.
‘Good evening, my lord.’
‘Good evening, Kennedy.’
The butler directed his eyes towards the open drawing room doors. Adam shook his head vigorously. Kennedy’s dignified expression momentarily gave way to one of deep satisfaction as he opened the green baize door and facilitated Adam’s escape via the servants’ stairs, thereby avoiding any possibility of his being seen from the drawing room if he went up by more conventional means. As he slipped away, he heard Philippa’s imperious voice demanding to know if it was Lord Fitzroy she’d just heard come home. Kennedy chose not to respond, leaving it to a footman to truthfully deny all knowledge of Adam’s whereabouts.
He reached his chamber without mishap. Here, at least, he was assured of privacy, having sent his valet to bed. Even Philippa wouldn’t dare to come in search of him here. He threw aside his coat, waistcoat and neck cloth and sank into a chair in front of the fire, frustrated by Philippa’s determination for his society.
He was anxious to reach the summerhouse before Florentina, in case she used his absence as an excuse to renege on their arrangement. But he couldn’t risk leaving the house again until Philippa was safely out of the way. He crossed to the window and leaned out of it. The drawing room was at right-angles to his chamber, immediately below it. He craned his neck to the left, disappointed to observe lights still visible through a gap in the curtains.
Adam swore softly. He wanted to spend the next hour anticipating his time with Florentina but was careful not to allow his impatience to overcome common sense. He visited the window on numerous occasions and was eventually rewarded when the lights were extinguished half an hour later. He waited fifteen minutes more and then let himself out of the house, once again using the side door that had facilitated many such nocturnal wanderings during his youth. He didn’t bother with his neck cloth or waistcoat and merely shrugged back into his coat as a precaution lest the white of his shirt gave him away to anyone watching from a window.
The night was warm and still, the sky smattered with random clusters of stars that looked close enough to touch. An almost full moon lit his path. The only sound to reach Adam’s ears was the distant hoot of an owl and a faint rustling in the undergrowth as nocturnal animals went about their business.
When he reached the summerhouse he lit two candles, safe in the knowledge that this particular building wasn’t visible from any part of the Court. Then he threw off his coat and settled down to wait. It was almost midnight and Adam wondered how long it would be before she came. But now that he was here, at leisure to enjoy the anticipatory nature of his thoughts, he no longer minded the waiting.
‘Good evening, my lord.’
Her voice startled him. She had slipped so quietly into the building that he hadn’t heard her approach. Adam stood and looked at her. She was dwarfed by a cloak but allowed it to fall slowly from her shoulders and threw it aside.
‘Good God!’
‘Is there something amiss?’
The power of speech appeared to have deserted him and he simply stared at her, feeling like the gauche youth he had been before Christine had taken him in hand all those years ago. Florentina wore a scarlet gown that fitted her like a second skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He’d spent much of the day wondering how she would appear this evening, what she would wear and how she would behave. But nothing could have prepared him for the reality.
She was sensational.
It wasn’t her clothing or her seductive air, nor was it the sway of her slender hips or the sight of her breasts spilling from her bodice that held his attention. It was something far more basic than that. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon but long spiral curls fell across her shoulders, partially covering the exposed part of her breasts. The style was so natural, so at odds with what he knew her to be, that it caused him to become almost painfully aroused within the tight confines of his breeches.
He spontaneously reached forward, pulled the ribbon free, and her heavy tresses cascaded down her back in a silken tumble of curls. Still he didn’t speak, watching her intently instead, thinking of the hideous way she’d styled her hair that morning in an effort to dispel his interest in her. He’d wanted to undo that prim braid and put her across his knee for being such a tease. But all that was forgotten now. In fact, he felt inclined to forgive all her transgressions simply because she was here, willing to submit to him, and because she was so comprehensively lovely.
‘You’re beautiful, Mrs Smith.’ Adam was aware just how inadequate his words sounded.
‘Why, thank you, sir.’
‘Would you care for a glass of wine?’
‘Yes.’
He opened the bottle of champagne he’d brought with him and handed her a flute filled almost to the brim. As she accepted it, their fingers touched and he noticed that her hands were trembling. So, she was nervous. That was interesting. She ought to be used to situations such as this, but perhaps her nerves were attributable to the fact that her future as his mother’s companion rested entirely in his hands.
‘Come and sit beside me.’
Adam waited until she settled in the farthest most corner of the daybed, as far away from him as she could situate herself, and then took up his own place. He was surprised by her reticence. Any courtesan worthy of the name would have taken precisely the opposite stance and done everything in her power to encourage his attentions. Instead Florentina was concentrating upon her champagne, taking constant sips. She sneezed several times when the bubbles went up her nose but that didn’t prevent her from consuming half the glass very quickly. At this rate she’d be too foxed to be of use to him so he removed the glass from between her fingers.
