The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [65]
With a slow nod, Chase stepped away from her, straightening his clothes and drawing deep breaths. Lydia did the same, hoping that no one interrupted them now, when they were both so disheveled.
How hideous to be caught this way when nothing had happened. She laughed a little as she finished smoothing her hair, and he turned to look at her, a question in his eyes.
“I was thinking how awful it would be to be found looking as though we have made love when we have not.”
Chase came to her again, tipped her chin up with a finger, and kissed her lightly and very quickly. “We have made love, Lydia. Not as completely as we will, but as surely as you wear that necklace.”
Lydia looked down, not embarrassed but a little shy at what she saw in his eyes. “But, Chase, we have known each other only a little more than a week.”
“A very intense week.”
“That I cannot argue, my lord.” She kissed him on both cheeks and then laid her forehead against his. “We have seen in each other more than most who have known each other much longer.” She leaned back and broke out of his hold. And there is too much you still do not know about me. The thought made her stomach ache and her hands shake. She could not look at him.
“We know the most important thing, that we are willing to risk everything for what we think is important, life and love and the people we value.”
She looked up quickly. “How do you know that about me?”
“You talk about Mr. Chernov’s mother with great affection. You do your best to keep Mrs. Allerton from irritating her.”
She nodded, relieved his judgment was based only on such superficial observations.
“If you will pour,” he said, “I think even lukewarm tea would be just the thing to settle my nerves.”
Nerves? The man did not know the meaning of the word. Then it occurred to her that nerves was a euphemism for sexual need. That she could understand. He might be a bastard by birth, but he was the finest gentleman she had ever met.
She poured him more tea and offered him a cake. He shook his head and the two sat in silence for a minute as they had before. She watched as he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, staring at the coin hanging from its chain. At least she thought that’s what he was staring at.
“Your coin was obviously made for foreign trade, with the great seal of England on one side and odd writing on the other. For India, I would guess, but if I make that guess based on the odd writing then I sound distinctly like Nesbitt with his guess at a Russian accent.”
“Hardly. You speak much better English.”
He raised his head and smiled at her teasing, then grew serious as before. “Mr. Chernov gave you the coin but you have no idea how he came to own it?”
“No idea at all.” He could have stolen it for all I know. She had learned early on not to question Alexei’s largesse.
“Perhaps, Lydia, the lady you call Grandmama knows something about it. Have you ever asked her?”
“No.” She had not wanted to know the truth if said truth was a story of theft and trickery. But what difference did it make now that Alexei was dead?
“Do you have any objection to asking her now?”
“Not really, though I think it best to wait until morning. She fades early in the evening.” Lydia looked away from him as she spoke the lie. She needed time to think when she was not distracted by his presence.
Mrs. Griffin and her daughter left the dining room. The footman poured some brandy and Griff let out a laugh that startled Chase.
“What is bothering you, my lord? You are as restless as a ten-year-old, or mayhap a twenty-year-old thinking of what he would rather be doing than having dinner with an old lady and her two aging children.”
“I enjoy your mother, and your sister has a wicked sense of humor.”
“Always so much more amusing when it is not aimed at me,” Griff said sourly. “I suspect it is why she never married. No man could ever match her repartee.”
“There are worse things