He moved within her, slow and sure, stoking their pleasure and anticipation, extending the shimmering glory, until at last they reached the pinnacle they sought, shattering in a storm of pleasure that left them drained and utterly content.
James gathered Laura in his arms then, holding her close, and before they drifted into sleep, he murmured in her ear, “I have no home without you.”
Laura awakened to James’s kisses in the pale light of dawn, their lovemaking gentle and drowsy, and afterward she snuggled into his embrace, falling asleep. When next she awoke, it was much later, and James was gone.
She lay for a moment, smiling to herself, her hand idly smoothing over the sheet beside her where he had lain. Laura was almost reluctant to leave the sanctuary of her room. There was no unpleasantness here. She suspected that could not be said of the rest of the house.
She could not delay forever, though. However much she might dread dealing with Tessa’s tears and everyone’s questions and speculations, she had to do it. There was also the prospect of spending time with James. He would probably be embroiled in matters concerning Mr. Netherly a good part of the day, but perhaps she could persuade him to take a stroll through the gardens with her this afternoon.
Laura went down to breakfast, Demosthenes padding along beside her. She was disappointed not to find James there, but Tessa greeted her eagerly, and Claude even rose to pull out her chair. Surprisingly, Tessa was not in tears, Claude was almost affable, and even Patricia and Archie were so enthralled with the mystery of Mr. Netherly’s motives that they greeted Laura with delight and began to bombard her with questions.
“I have no idea why he would do it,” Laura told them candidly. “I’m not sure even James does.”
“He doesn’t,” Claude assured her. “The magistrate and constable were just here. They said Netherly’s refused to answer any questions.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Apparently he just quotes poetry.”
“He would,” Tessa said darkly.
The discussion of Mr. Netherly continued, though Laura contributed little, more eager to finish her food and go find James than to speculate on the poet’s obscure motive. When she finished the meal, she was surprised to see that Claude followed her into the hall.
“Lady—that is, Laura . . .” When she turned back to him, Claude went on. “James told me you argued that I wasn’t the culprit. I wanted to thank you. And . . . well, I should apologize that I was not more welcoming when you arrived.”
Looking at his stiff demeanor, Laura thought he had more in common with his brother than either thought. She smiled. “Thank you. I hope that we can—all of us—become better friends.”
A faint smile lightened his stern expression. “I’m not sure James and I can ever be friends. But perhaps we can be better brothers. I—James has changed since he married you. You’ve filed down his sharp edges.”
“I’m not sure I deserve the credit, but I believe he looks at things a little differently now.”
He nodded, offering nothing further, and somewhat awkwardly they parted. Laura watched as Claude walked down the hall to James’s study. She had planned to see if James was there, but now she felt embarrassed to do so. She didn’t want to appear too bold, especially in front of James’s brother. James could, after all, come looking for her.
Feeling at loose ends, she strolled out to the terrace, Dem trailing along after her. Robbie was perched on the top step, and he jumped up at the sight of Demosthenes, coming forward to pet him.
“No studies this morning?” Laura asked lightly.
He shrugged. “Miss Barstow’s in her room, crying.”
It took Laura a moment to remember that Miss Barstow was the boy’s governess. “I see. She’s unhappy?”
“Mum was mad at her. But Mum left, so she’ll feel better soon.” He brightened. “You want to see something?”
Laura nodded and followed him into the house, feeling a trifle sorry for the boy, who often seemed lonely and bored.
“I found it yesterday,” he went on as he led her and Demosthenes up the back stairs. “Miss Barstow said I mustn’t disturb it.” He frowned. “She’s not a bad sort. I hope Mum doesn’t send her away, but she was frightfully angry.”
“At Miss Barstow?”
“Yes. But before that she was mad at Uncle James. She said Papa was a fool to trust him.” He paused at the top of the stairs. “Then Mum heard Miss Barstow tell me Mr. Netherly was a wicked man who tried to kill Uncle James. Did he really?”
“Yes.”
“Mum said Miss Barstow didn’t know what she was talking about and she shouldn’t gossip about her betters. It was because she likes Mr. Netherly.”