A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) (31 page)

He collapsed onto Gabby, feeling the last tremors of her pleasure as if they were his own.

Gabby shifted and then slowly opened her luminescent and shining eyes. Her body was soft and relaxed underneath him.

He traced his finger along her pink cheeks, her eyelids, and her delicate jaw. “Did it hurt badly, my darling?”

Gabby’s lips turned up in a bashful smile. “Only at first, but you more than made up for the discomfort.”

He kissed the tip of her pert nose before he rolled over and pressed her against his side. “Now you are my wife.”

Gabby’s warm lips were on his throat. “And now you are my husband. I still can’t believe that Lucien finally agreed to our marriage and was even willing to escort me down the aisle.”

Michael had spared Gabby from her brother’s threat to disembowel him if he did anything to hurt Gabby. Michael also didn’t mention that Lucien had come to the correct conclusion that Gabby was safest under Michael’s protection from Fouché and Napoleon’s threats while he was away in France.

Gabby’s light touch meandered down his chest and he really didn’t want this happy moment taken up with discussion of his mercurial brother-in-law.

“You’ll like him once you get to know him.”

Michael chose not to comment on his own view on his newest family member. If he had realized that he would be related to Rathbourne and Valmont, he might have remained in France. But then he wouldn’t have Gabby, his sated and warm wife, lying next to him.

Gabby followed her gentle touches with wet kisses to his chest. “Lucien’s a changed man. He’s grown bitter. When he returns from France, we’ll help him find a new life.”

“Gabby, when he returns to England, we’ll make him welcome to our family. But he has seen the violent destruction of his parents, his estate, and his heritage. It may take a long time for him to figure out his way.” Michael didn’t mention that Valmont was driven by his desire for revenge, not wanting a new life but destroying those who had taken from him.

With Gabby’s sweet curves and her sweet kisses pressed against him, Michael felt his body already hardening. He couldn’t take his wife again, could he? She’d be sore, and she was new to lovemaking. But he could find other ways to pleasure her.

“Gabby, you know your enticing touches are starting something you might not want to finish.”

“I’d like to continue the lessons you’ve promised me. That is, if you’re not too tired.” Gabby kissed down his chest, her hand seeking him again. It seemed his wife liked to touch him. How lucky could a husband get?

Epilogue

Gabby, from her safe position behind a column, watched Michael’s university friend Pudgy tune his violin, along with the three other string musicians. It was easy to identify Madame Abney’s brother with his thick, dark hair and dark eyebrows, the same as his sister and their Roman ancestors who had invaded France centuries before.

The hefty trumpet player shifted his weight while he nervously adjusted his music on the stand. The harpsichord player sat erect on his bench and stared straight ahead, unaware of the babble of the sparse crowd in the vaulted ceiling room.

Gabby’s stomach fluttered. She was unsure if her jitteriness was due to nerves or the excitement for the king’s attendance.

Because of concerns for safety, no other woman was allowed to attend the concert. She was the exception because of Madame Abney’s insistence. Lord Rathbourne didn’t want to arouse Jeanne’s suspicions since the singer knew nothing of the plot against the king.

The men were adamant that Gabby stand behind a column and near a door to enable Michael to whisk her away at the first sign of trouble. She had readily agreed to her position since it meant that Michael would also be out of the range of danger. She also wanted to protect Michael in case the spy had deduced that her husband was England’s top code breaker. Of course, she would never have shared her fears with her husband who would have simply laughed them off.

Considering the possible danger, Gaby must have tightened her grip on Michael’s arm since he bent down and whispered close to her ear. “No need to worry. Nothing is going to happen except to hear more of Madame Abney’s caterwauling.”

Gabby looked up to glimpse Michael’s bright eyes focused on her. His hungry look heated her body with sensations of the last night, the hours of their passionate and tender lovemaking. Michael’s ravenous stare aroused a shocking and hungry need shooting through her body. She had to control herself not to touch him, lean into his hard body.

Whatever Michael saw in her face, she felt his breath hitch and his body tighten next to her. His hot breath against her ear sent shudders of longing through her. “Darling, you can’t look at me like that. These antiquated court clothes hide nothing.”

As a wife of experience, Gabby looked at the front of his breeches. “Gabby, don’t stare. That will only make matters worse.” His laugh rumbling in his chest ignited a sweltering desire in Gabby with the memory of how she felt his laughs and breaths upon her breasts when they were joined.

She fanned her face and tried to concentrate on looking at the few other people in the room to assess who appeared suspicious. The only men she recognized were Lord Rathbourne and Ashworth.

The side doors opened and everyone shifted to watch Jeanne sweep into the room. The swishing sound of her deep burgundy velvet gown brushed along the marble floor resonated in the well-designed royal music room. Jeanne smiled at Gabby when she walked past to her stand next to the musicians.

Her dignified and confident posture showed no signs of apprehension she might be experiencing for her royal command performance. There was complete silence with a sense of rising tension as the musicians readied themselves while everyone else waited for King George.

Lord Rathbourne stood by the door where Gabby assumed His Majesty would enter since there was one large chair with cushions placed directly in front of the door. Ash stood amongst several of the men who were stationed on the opposite of the room from Gabby and Michael.

Gabby wasn’t privy to the plan, but she assumed that most of the men in the chamber were likely under Lord Rathbourne’s direction.

Finally, the door was opened by two footmen in red and white livery. Everyone turned to the king’s entrance. A dour-looking gentleman, accompanied by two more gentlemen, walked behind the king.

All the men in the room bowed. Jeanne and Gabby curtsied, not that the king would notice Gabby’s curtsy from her barely-visible position behind the column.

Jeanne, with all her French panache and theatrical drama, bowed so deeply that Gabby worried that she might not be able to rise in her heavy, cumbersome gown.

Lord Rathbourne nodded to the king before His Majesty moved to greet Jeanne.

King George’s formal and polite manner was nothing like his son who was known for his rude and oafish manners. “Madame Abney, after hearing your performance of
Merope
, I look forward to your performance today of my favorite Bach cantata. I hope you have also prepared Handel.”

Jeanne rose from her low bow and gave a charming smile. “Thank you, your Majesty. It is an honor to perform for you today. And knowing of your enjoyment of Handel, I’ve prepared several selections for you.”

Hidden away behind the column, Michael groaned. “Oh, no. How long do we have to stand and listen? These pointed shoes are damned uncomfortable.”

Gabby wanted to giggle at Michael’s irreverent remark. She knew he joked to help her relax, and how could she not fall more in love with her sensitive husband.

About to shush Michael for his cheeky remarks, Gabby’s attention was drawn to the nervous trumpet player who had somehow knocked his music off the stand. His music fluttered to the ground, and he bent to pick up the scattered papers.

Gabby saw the glitter of steel caught in the candlelight reflection as he pulled a knife from his boot.

Pudgy threw himself on top of the king, who fell forward onto Jeanne, who stumbled and fell under both men.

With the quick action by Pudgy, Michael shoved Gabby behind the column, protecting her with his body. There was a loud commotion. And then silence.

Gabby turned back as Michael was dragging her out the door. She almost missed how Ash had wrestled the man to the ground and Lord Rathbourne had wrested the knife from his hands.

All the men were huddled around the king who now was back on his feet. Pudgy was helping Jeanne up who didn’t seem flustered as she adjusted the feathers of her plume.

The king’s loud sonorous voice echoed in the hall. “Rathbourne, is that your man?”

Michael was about to close the door when soldiers came racing down the hallway.

Michael pulled her out of the way of the running soldiers. “Who would have suspected the trumpet player?”

His droll comment precipitated hilarious laughter.

When they both had stopped laughing, their eyes met. Gabby couldn’t look away from Michael’s feverish stare. After only one night, Gabby understood her husband’s look and knew he wanted her. Her body inclined toward him. “Shouldn’t we go back in?”

“For what reason?” Michael ran his finger along the top of her bodice, sending shivers down her legs.

Michael’s eyes were down, watching his exploring fingers. But Gabby saw the color in his cheeks and the way the timbre in his voice darkened. “Let me consider the decision. We can either go back where our presence is redundant or we could go home and continue exploring our newly wedded state. It is up to you, dear wife.”

“Home, I say, home, and you. I’ve already heard the Bach cantata.”

The End

Excerpt from

A Code of the Heart

Book Three in the

Code Breakers Regency Romantic Suspense Series

by Jacki Delecki

Prologue

Edworth House Party

Christmas Eve, 1802

Miss Amelia Bonnington braced herself as the crowd bumped and pushed, straining to get close to His Highness. The crème of society shoved and elbowed, politely-of-course, since one would never want to be accused of bad manners.

The Prince of Wales stood on a small platform elaborately decorated with heavy boughs of greenery and red velvet, matching the Christmas décor of the massive ballroom. Hundreds of beeswax candles burned. No expense had been spared for the house party celebrating his royal visit.

Amelia had no desire to be part of the prince’s circle; they were a ghastly group interested only in themselves and their own pleasure.

She sucked in the little air left in the room and pushed, courteously-of-course, toward the door. The crowd and the heat were unbearable. She wasn’t one to swoon, but with the thick mix of perfume and the hot bodies, she felt tonight might be her first. She, one of the steadiest women, felt unsteady and unsafe. The last days of upheaval must have had a greater effect on her than she wanted to believe.

Her whole world had been turned upside down and twisted sideways at this house party. In the last two days, her friends had been poisoned and held captive, and she had been ensnared in the French villain’s trap. But the deadly crisis had to be kept secret. Nothing must look out of the ordinary. No one outside the intelligence world must ever know about the enemy’s threat to the Prince of Wales’s life. The ball must go on.

Amelia looked over her shoulder for the closest exit, but the throng pushed her forward. She needed to escape from the packed room.

A gentleman used the chaos in the crowded room to crash into her, to take liberties with her person. After spending the last four years in congested ballrooms, she fully recognized the scoundrel’s ploy. His heavy eyelids didn’t conceal his hungry eyes as he focused down her cleavage. As he remained fixated on her breasts, he grabbed her elbow, pretending to help her when in fact he intended to pull her close against his hefty, malodorous body.

His reek of stale alcohol and sour sweat constricted her stomach and burned her throat. She pulled her arm away from his grasp, repulsed by the wetness seeping through his gloves. “Sir, release me this instant.” She was about to dig her heel into the supposed gentleman’s fat toe when suddenly a space opened around her and a smell of fresh lime soap surrounded her.

The perspiring man stared behind her. His slack mouth and his blood-shot eyes widened in fear.