would not!’ Lady Charlotte seemed determined to take Pierre’s side. ‘We will help you both. And the servants who shielded you. You will understand, of course, that it is necessary to have the proof of your birth in order to establish your claim to the titles. Cousin Frederick will demand nothing less before he will relinquish his hold on the earldom. But have no fear, we shall send to Paris to search for the documents, and we shall—’
‘I think I should discuss matters with my lawyer before we make any definite plans, Aunt Charlotte,’ said Angel, interrupting quickly. ‘If Mr Rosevale will tell us where he can be reached…?’
‘Mr Rosevale, indeed! Why, Pierre is the Marquis of Penrose and should be addressed by that title. He—’
‘I think it might be wise, Aunt, to make no such claim at this stage. Forgive me, sir, but if you are the rightful Marquis, then you are also the Earl of Penrose. That title passed to my cousin Frederick after my father’s death. I fancy it might be unwise to broadcast your claim until you have something more than a family likeness to substantiate it.’ She watched him carefully, trying to judge the effect of her words. He now seemed totally open and unembarrassed. She could not detect the slightest sign of duplicity in his face.
Pierre smiled warmly at them both. Oh, he was a handsome man, no doubt of that. He had charming manners, too. When he smiled in just that way, with such warmth in his deep blue eyes, Angel found herself wanting to believe that he was exactly what he said. It would be so easy to take his part. And if she came to know him better, they might perhaps become friends, even— No! Angel pulled herself up short. She must not allow her judgement to be swayed by his looks and his charm. As head of the family, she must do her duty by this man, as calmly as—
‘May we not invite Pierre to stay here at the Abbey, my dear? It must be very difficult for him, all alone in a strange country…’
Heavens, what would Aunt Charlotte say next? Such impropriety was quite unlike her. It seemed that even an old lady’s head could be turned by a handsome face and old-fashioned courtesies. Pierre was certainly dangerous.
Pierre took Lady Charlotte’s hand and bowed over it, almost touching it with his lips. ‘You are most kind, my lady, but I could not accept. I am lodging in London. With Hannah’s brother. I could not impose upon you both while my situation is…unresolved. It would be most improper.’
Lady Charlotte sighed deeply, but said nothing more. For a second, she looked a trifle chastened.
‘I thank you for your understanding, sir,’ Angel said with sincerity. ‘If you will furnish me with your direction, I shall ensure that you are kept informed of any developments. I cannot promise you that you will have news quickly, however, no matter how many envoys I send to Paris.’
‘But you will send them, Angel?’ Aunt Charlotte was beaming now. ‘That is splendid. Just think what a blow it will be for Frederick. He will be reduced to plain Mr Rosevale all over again. I declare, we shall soon have Great-uncle Augustus turning in his grave.’
‘Max?’
He groaned a little, not opening his eyes.
‘Max, it is morning. You said you had to leave early.’ Louisa laid a gentle hand on his dark stubbled cheek. ‘And you are much in need of a shave,’ she whispered, trying to hide the smile in her voice.
His eyes remained stubbornly closed. He did not move an inch.
She lay back on her soft pillows, luxuriating in the warmth of the bed and the closeness of the man at her side. She knew better than to continue when he so clearly did not wish to be roused. He would—
In less than the space of a heartbeat, he had pulled her into his arms! ‘What I am in need of, my dear one, is much more urgent than a shave.’
‘Indeed, sir? And what, pray, is that? You—’
She was not permitted to say another word. His mouth came down on hers for a long and increasingly passionate kiss that made her forget the advancing hour and the winter chills outside. He was on fire already, and he knew exactly how to light an answering flame in her.
Louisa groaned in her turn.
He stilled immediately. ‘What is it? Did I hurt you?’
She groaned again, deliberately. ‘You are an idiot, Max.’ She ran her free hand down his back and began to trail her fingers over the soft skin of his buttocks. ‘After all these years, you really should have learned a little more about me, you know.’
‘Impossible,’ he said. Her hand moved again, raking the nails across his flesh. He gasped and rolled on to his back, taking her with him and trapping that roving hand. ‘It is impossible to understand any woman, my sweet. No man should even begin to try. But then again—’ he put his hands around her waist and settled her astride him ‘—there are certain things that can usually provoke a reaction.’ He reached up to cup her breast, weighing it in his hand and then delicately skimming the rough skin of his thumb over her nipple.
Louisa closed her eyes, trying not to moan at the pleasure of it. In some things, he understood her only too well.
‘Mmm, yes. That is most certainly a reaction.’
With her eyes closed, Louisa could no longer tell precisely what he was doing to her. All her skin seemed to be burning, as if he was stroking every inch of her body at the same time. That was impossible, and yet…
‘And now, my sweet,’ he said softly, in a voice so thick with desire that it reached into her very heart, ‘you may do with me what you will.’
‘For a man who cannot understand women, you manage remarkably well, I think.’
Max paused in the act of arranging his cravat and turned to gaze down at her. In the aftermath of their lovemaking, she looked particularly beautiful, her skin still slightly flushed, her dark hair pooled on the rumpled pillows. He was tempted to rip off his clothes and return to her.
‘No, Max.’ She shook her head and sat up, pulling the covers up to her chin. She could read him much too well. ‘You know you must go. But I may expect you to come back tonight?’
‘No,’ he snapped.
‘Max—?’
‘Forgive me, Louisa, that was uncalled for. I am not angry at you. I have…other things on my mind. I have to go out of town today. On…family business. I do not expect it to be pleasant.’
She did not ask for any further explanation. She never pried. She was truly a woman in a thousand and he was lucky to have found her. He smiled affectionately at her and returned to the matter of his cravat.
He heard her give a long, deep sigh. What on earth—?
‘Max, there is something I must say to you, my dear. I ask you to hear me out.’
He turned back to her. He had never heard her use quite that tone of voice before. And she was suddenly very pale, almost as white as the sheet she held against her neck.
‘I know you will not say this, so I must. Max, my dear… When you marry—and I know it must be soon—you must give me up. You are a man of honour. You should not betray your wife with a woman like me.’ She was twisting the sheet in her fingers as she spoke.
