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“Of course only Isabella’s papa is capable of slaying the Ga-Bas!” Bea explained. “Clara, speaking of Mr. Liszt—my music library is far from being as comprehensive as yours, but you’d wished to examine those manuscripts William acquired for my birthday! If you would prefer to go home, of course do, but if you wouldn’t mind waiting in the music room, you could help yourself to the manuscripts, and we’ll be back down shortly.”
James laughed. “Look at her face. You have your answer, Lady Candleton. Come, Mrs. Robertson, permit me the honor of escorting you to the music room.”
Though Ben’s hushed cries spurred her up the stairs, Bea was still smiling when she entered the room off the nursery where Hannah and the babe awaited. Ultimately, Ben was drowsy after a quick nurse. Hannah helped Bea fasten her gown afterwards, and they went into the nursery proper to deposit the sleeping babe in his cot.
Bea stifled a giggle at the sight of William, still in his dinner coat with tails, on the floor next to Isabella’s bed, her small hand in his as she slept. After setting Ben down, Bea took the candlestick from Hannah, who immediately returned to her own bed in the room. In increments, William slipped his hand from Isabella’s.
After tip-toeing into the hallway, they made their way back down the stairwell quietly.
“You were victorious over the Ga-Bas, I take it?” Bea asked.
He chuckled. “Cut down, each and every one.”
As Bea stepped onto the ground floor, she turned to William. “Oh, before I forget,” she whispered. “Please do have a word with Edmund about fencing. He struck Isabella with his ‘foil’ this morning!”
“I shall,” he reassured and offered his elbow.
They walked to the music room together. Unlike James, who had snaked an arm around Clara’s waist when he escorted her, William kept a respectable distance, but it felt pleasant all the same. When they reached the doorway, she smiled her thanks and stepped into the music room first.
Before Bea could gasp, William reached around her with lightning-fast reflexes and covered her mouth with his hand.Thatwidened her eyes in shock, let alone the sight before her.
The Liszt manuscript lay abandoned on the lectern-style carved mahogany music stand. Nearby, Clara stood pressed against the wall while her husband kissed his way down her neck. Bea stared unblinkingly, fascinated by the indecency she witnessed. Breathing raggedly, Clara arched toward her husband’s large hands, one of which caressed her breast through the satin bodice while the other held the swell of her belly.
When James’s lips reached the junction of her neck and shoulder, his thumb plied her nipple through the gown, wrenching a quiet whimper from Clara. He moved up to cover her mouth with his, and her hands shot through his hair.
Bea’s breath huffed softly against William’s fingers as she watched the torrid kiss that ensued. In short order, James’s and Clara’s bodies entwined, and they both turned slightly, angling their mouths to fuse them. The nearby candelabra cast warm light, revealing how they tasted each other, the carnal glide of tongue on tongue shockingly visible. Clara’s hand reached around to her husband’s rear, gripping him, pulling him closer.
Trembling, Bea didn’t resist like she wanted to when William pulled her out of the doorway and to the side. Only when they stood in the hall, facing the wall, did she realize his hand was still on her mouth, and her hands clutched his forearm. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his fingers against her lips.
He closed the gap between them, pressing his hips against her derriere. She exhaled hard against him, feeling his arousal grow against her, even through her skirts. Within moments, it swelled, pressing firmly, and she couldn’t help it when the tip of her tongue darted out to taste his finger.
William released her abruptly and she stumbled against the wall, catching herself with her hands.
“My apologies,” he breathed.
The sound of fabric rustling inside the music room reminded Bea they had company.My God, how could I have forgotten?She glanced at William, who stood with his eyes closed tightly. She sighed inwardly, her hands curling into fists. By the look of him, he already regretted their moments of abandon.
No,thatwas abandon, she thought, remembering what she had glimpsed in the music room. She cleared her throat. “Oh, Clara? James? Are you still here?”
“We are! We’re in the music room!”
“There you are!” Bea stepped in, hoping she didn’t appear flustered.
The Robertsons stood before the music stand, James’s cravat only slightly askew.
“Apologies for taking so long. I’m afraid I’ve come only to say goodnight, for I’m needed upstairs for longer. Do stay as long as you wish.” She couldn’t resist a genuine smile. “Was the manuscript to your liking?”
“Oh! It was positively”—Clara gave a radiant smile, her cheeks pink—“stirring!As youmustgo back to the children, I won’t bore you with my detailed reflections. Perhaps over tea next week?”
“I shall look forward to it.”
James closely followed Clara out the door, where they met William, who thanked the couple for their company over dinner, and James for the expertise he’d shared.
The Robertsons expressed genuine but hasty thanks and farewells, and the butler let them out. Only then did Bea meet William’s gaze again.
They stared for some time, standing in the foyer, until his eyes dropped to her hands, in fists again to quell her trembling. Unaccountable fury spread through her, even more than disappointment, when she saw that William hadn’t only killed Ga-Bas tonight. He had once again smothered part of himself.
After glancing meaningfully at the footman and butler who stood nearby, he gestured toward the drawing room. “Shall we?”
