The Many Sins of Cris De Feaux (Lords of Disgrace 3) - Page 57

Cris found himself without words as the door clicked shut behind Lady Pirton. Then, as Tamsyn collapsed into a fit of helpless giggles, he caught sight of his own rigid expression in the over-mantel mirror and gave way to laughter, too.

He folded up on the floor by Tamsyn’s chair and groped for a handkerchief. ‘Will she send you home, do you think?’ he managed when they had both sobered up enough to speak.

‘I’m sure not and if she should ask me to leave, why, I will hire myself a lady companion and take us both off to a respectable hotel.’ Tamsyn got up, mopped her eyes and held out a hand to him. ‘Stop sprawling on the floor. It is conduct unbefitting a marquess, as I am certain the very respectable Earl of Edenbridge would remind you.’

*

That was a glimpse of a different man altogether, Tamsyn thought as she sat sipping tea with perfect decorum, and a suspiciously pink nose, ten minutes later. She would never have believed the cool and collected man she thought she knew could have given way to amusement in quite such an uninhibited manner. It was, she decided ruefully as she watched him accept a cucumber sandwich with perfect composure, exceedingly attractive.

‘I was not aware that you were acquainted with Mrs Perowne, Lord Avenmore.’ Cousin Harriet poured tea with a steady hand, but Tamsyn could almost see the calculation going on behind her bland expression.

‘We met in Devon. Mrs Perowne came to my aid when I almost drowned. I was delighted, but surprised, to discover she was visiting London.’

‘Oh, then you were not expecting to meet?’ Harriet was apparently having trouble controlling her curiosity as her gaze flickered back and forth between the pair of them.

‘No,’ Tamsyn said, softening the flat negative with a smile. ‘It quite took us by surprise.’

‘So I see.’ Cousin Harriet blushed and put down the tea pot with a clatter. ‘Will you be leaving London for the summer, Lord Avenmore? Your country estates, perhaps? Or the seaside?’

‘Later, no doubt. I have some business to complete first.’

Tamsyn felt his gaze resting on her and slid him a sideways glance. His mouth was just twitching into a hint of a smile. Then he ran the tip of his tongue over his lips in pursuit of an errant crumb and a wave of desire hit her like a rogue wave. She was mad to have kissed him just now, to have incited that outburst of passion. It seemed he felt as ardently as she did—about making love, at least. Parting again was going to be hellish.

To her relief Cousin Harriet appeared to expect her to see Cris to the door and stayed behind in the salon after shaking hands. But with the butler waiting with Cris’s hat in his hands there was no opportunity for conversation, let alone any more stolen kisses.

Cris stopped her with a hand on her arm, just out of earshot. ‘I will let you know how things progress, but do not go out alone, or with only a maid. Take a hefty footman, at the very least.’

She didn’t point out that Cousin Harriet appeared to employ footmen for smart good looks and not for bulk. ‘I will take care. I just wish I knew the best thing to do about those pictures.’

‘We’ll think of something.’ Cris caught her hand in his, raised it to his lips, the courtly, almost old-fashioned gesture at odds with the heat of his mouth as he lingered a moment longer than decency allowed. ‘Do not worry.’

Chapter Twenty

Tamsyn got through the next few days by a mixture of intensive shopping, sightseeing and sheer willpower. She added a flirty little veil to her bonnet, intriguing Cousin Harriet, who teased her about trying to set a new vogue, but soothing to her nerves when she was outside. Surely Franklin would not recognise her dressed to the nines, veiled and hundreds of miles from where he thought her to be?

Lady Weybourn came to call, fortunately while Cousin Harriet was out, because she proved to be charmingly frank. ‘Let’s use first names, shall we? You mustn’t mind Gabriel, he’s in a muddle with some woman, which is doing nothing for his mood, and he is worried about Cris.’

‘But why? I am not trying to entrap him, and besides, Lord Avenmore is a grown man of experience. He can look after himself.’

‘He has changed since he went to Devon. No…’ Tess shook her head, contradicting herself. ‘No, he had changed before that, when we were up in Northumberland visiting Kate and Grant—Lord and Lady Allundale. Kate thought he was in love. He seemed on the surface his usual self, all cool detachment and lofty self-confidence, but there was something in his eyes, some…bleakness. I wondered if she had died, now I suspect he had to give her up, leave her.’

‘I think so, too,’ Tamsyn said. The other woman looked a question. ‘We became close.’ Tess smiled and Tamsyn shrugged. ‘Oh, very well, we became lovers. But he does not love me, I knew that from the beginning and I never expected it, or marriage. I knew it was an affair of the moment and he would leave, we both did. And I do not need Gabriel Stone to tell me I am not the wife a marquess should be looking for. He needs someone with a pedigree of note, a young woman who will give him an heir.’

‘You are not some rural bumpkin,’ Tess said. ‘You may live in the depths of the country and you may have married a smuggler, but you are perfectly well connected. Don’t pretend otherwise,’ she added sternly when Tamsyn began to protest. ‘Country gentry, I presume? There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m illegitimate and I’m married to a viscount who’ll be an earl one day.’ She settled back more comfortably into the corner of the sofa and Tamsyn saw the way she rested one hand protectively over her stomach for a moment.

‘Does he know he’s going to be a papa next year?’ Tamsyn asked.

‘Oh! How did you know?’ She followed the direction of Tamsyn’s gaze to where her hands had settled again and laughed. ‘No, he doesn’t. I wanted to be certain, and now I am and I will tell him tonight.’

Tamsyn was happy for her, she truly was, and she thought her smile showed nothing but delight for the other woman, but Tess was both observant and sensitive. ‘Tamsyn? Have you—have you a child from your marriage?’

‘No.’ Now her smile was too bright, she could feel it. ‘No, I was not so fortunate. Jory and I were not married long. Just nine months before he died.’

‘I heard what happened, Gabriel told me. You were there?’

Tamsyn nodded.

Tags: Louise Allen Lords of Disgrace Historical
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