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A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) Page 19
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She gave him an impish smile. “I had some while you were sleeping.”
“What a nurse I’ve turned out to be. Not doing half as well as you did taking care of me.”
“You were really very ill. I’m not sick. I injured myself and will be better in no time.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to try to fall back asleep? Everyone will be up soon and will want to check on you. For the short time you’ve been in England you’ve developed loyal friendships.” Not that Michael was surprised, since how could anyone resist her gentle, loving nature. He wasn’t sure when he’d lost his heart completely to the French minx, possibly when she had soothed his hurt feelings over the change in his household.
“Did they catch the men?”
Michael wasn’t sure how much he should confide when she had just awakened. “Why don’t I call your maid? And I’ll come back this afternoon and we can talk about what’s happened.”
“No, I don’t want my maid. I want you to tell me what you know.”
Michael looked down at her serious face, her blue, blue eyes focused on him. She deserved to know. “The men escaped. No one knows who they were.”
“But they have to be Napoleon’s men.”
“Gabby, I have a lot to tell you. Are you sure you don’t want to wait? We can talk this afternoon.”
“If someone tried to kill you…” Gabby shuddered involuntarily, “…would you want to wait?”
Michael took a deep breath. “Only because you insist. And if I see any signs of fatigue, those bright blue eyes getting droopy, I’m going to stop. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Gabby shifted in the bed and the covers dropped, revealing her thin muslin nightgown, and although it was buttoned up to her neck, Michael couldn’t stop from staring at her rounded, full breasts and couldn’t stop the heat of lust roaring through him.
“Michael, what’s wrong? Your face is bright red.”
“Because, my sweet innocent, I’ve sworn on my honor to be a gentleman, but you in bed, in an alluring nightgown, makes it hard for a man to honor his pledge.”
“This nightgown isn’t seductive. It’s a plain muslin gown.”
“It’s not the nightgown, it’s you, Gabby. You in a nightgown is too tempting for a man…”
Innocent as Gabby was, her lips turned into a knowing, womanly smile. “But my plain bedclothes pale in comparison to Madame Abney’s dressing gown.”
“I never had trouble breathing, feeling as if all the air has been sucked out of the room, in response to Madame Abney in her dressing gown. Only because of one pink-faced, seductive French siren in a white nightgown.” He leaned over, placing both his hands next to her shoulders. “I wasn’t pursuing Madame Abney. I am trying to find out whether French spies are sending messages in her music.”
Gabby flinched. “Madame Abney is a spy?”
“Possibly.”
She whispered, as if someone might hear her. “She’s sending messages to spies in her music?”
“We know that messages are being sent to French spies from the opera house.”
She leaned away from him. “Are you sure you should be telling me this information? Do you know that my brother was a French spy?”
“Yes, I’ve gotten approval to tell you about my work because of last night. We think you might have discovered something in Madame Abney’s music and that was the reason that man tried to kill you.”
Gabby clenched her hands on the bed covers. “It wasn’t Napoleon’s men?”
“Napoleon doesn’t gain anything by having you killed.”
Gabby chewed on her lower lip as she stared into space. “I was wondering the same thing. The only reason I could come up with was Napoleon is angry that I defied him, the First Consul, so he ordered me to be killed.”
Michael hated seeing the bewildered look on Gabby’s face when she explained the reason Napoleon wanted her dead. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I’m sorry. I wish I had the answers.”
“But wouldn’t I know if I discovered something in the music?”
“Most likely not since they’re using codes in the music to hide messages.”
“And because you’re skilled in deciphering codes, you are supposed to find the message.”
“How do you know about my skills?”
“You talked a lot when you had the fever.”
“Holy…” Michael stopped himself. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How would I tell you? Tell you I knew you were in France on a secret mission? I’m French. Our countries are at war. And then, when I found out my brother was a spy, I thought you’d never trust me.”
Michael pressed his lips to the warm tender skin on her wrist. “I trusted you the minute I met you.”
“But I was disguised as a boy.”
“And you couldn’t stop laughing when I fell off the settee. I think I fell in love with the impish smile then.”
“Love?” Gabby eyes searched his face.
“You must know how I feel about you. I promised to court you, but I’m not sure I can wait. My promises are honorable.”
“But you and Madame Abney on the settee?” Her lashes lifted, treating him to the sight of her vulnerable and questioning eyes.
“I swear, on my French mother’s good name, I was trying to escape the lady’s clutches.” Michael watched Gabby’s eyes warm.
She followed a thread on the counterpane with her finger, avoiding looking at him. “Courting one woman and having an affair with another is done all the time by French gentlemen. My father had a mistress. My mother pretended it didn’t hurt her, but I never could be as complacent as my mother.”
Michael lifted her hand. “You never have to worry about me. I will never hurt you, Gabby.” He rubbed his finger in light circles on her soft wrist, enjoying the way Gabby’s breath quickened and her lips parted.
He could seduce her right now. His sweet French musician wanted him as much as he wanted her. No one would be up for another hour. They could marry by special license. He lifted her hand to his lips and used his tongue to paint circles on her sensitive wrist.
Gabby gasped. Her sweet breasts moving under the virginal nightgown. He wanted to unbutton every one of the pearl buttons and then use his mouth and lips on her soft, flushed skin.
He started to reach for her, when he stopped suddenly. Someone had just tried to kill her and he was thinking about his own needs, not about what Gabby needed.
He jerked up from the side of the bed, walking toward the window. “My God, Gabby, you’re a test of my control.”
Her pupils were dilated, her breaths coming in little pants.
“Let’s talk about what you saw in the music. Can you remember anything?” He was trying to get his mind onto another topic rather than on seducing his sweet Gabby, an injured and innocent woman. He was turning into a cad, but only around Gabby, only Gabby. “I’m sorry, you’ve had a horrible night. My questions can wait.”
“No, I want to help. I need to see and hear the music.”
Michael rushed back to her side, knelt by the bed, and took her hand. “My God, if there were any way not to involve you, I would do it.”
“No, I want to help. I want to be of use. Don’t shield me as if I’m still locked away to be kept ignorant in a convent. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. Please, let me help.”
Michael released her hand and stood. “You’re like Hen. She needs to be involved, to use her mind.”
“Thank you for understanding why this is important to me. I can’t remain unware and uninvolved.”
“I’m not agreeing that I won’t do everything in my power to keep you away from the danger.”
“Of course.” With her sweet gentle manner, Michael knew he’d probably never be able to say no to this one woman who captured his heart.
He walked to the window and opened the curtains wide. “When we were in Madame Abney’s dressing room before the opera, you were perusing her music and said something about the
notes. Do you remember?”
“Yes, the notes by her husband made no musical sense. He had scrawled changes to the rhythm along the side of the sheet, next to the bars of music. He had changed the entire rhythm by altering the whole notes and rests into quarter notes and half notes. I need to see the notes again to look at the pattern.”
“Was there only one page of his writing?”
“No, he made notations throughout the cantata.”
“My God, the notes are the coded messages. I’ve gone through the opera repeatedly and found nothing. I need to see those notes. I need to see Madame Abney today.”
“You’re going to see her?” Gabby voice squeaked.
“Gabby, darling, I’ve got to find the code. These contain plots against the king’s life. I must find their messages to prevent calamity.”
Gabby chewed on her lower lip. “I’m not being a jealous woman…well a bit, since I did see the way Madame Abney looked at you as if you were her favorite dessert.”
“Gabby, you’re not supposed to know such things.” Michael felt the tops of his ears burning.
“I’ve a better plan that doesn’t involve the lady and you. What if I send a note telling the lady that, during my recovery, I would like to practice the music before I perform for Madame? It is a reasonable request.”
Michael paced. “But if you ask for the music, it might alert Madame that you know about the messages or the person who tried to kill you. It means the person will come after you.”
“Exactly. But I don’t believe Madame is passing the messages. It must be her husband. Madame is a musician, and she’ll want to hear me play and want to share her passion. And I’m happy as long as she doesn’t share any of her passion with you.”
“It is too dangerous. I can’t allow you.”
“I’m not allowing you to see Madame Abney without me.”
Michael recognized the same tilt of the head, the same pinched lips, that his mother called Hen’s Gallic stubbornness.
“You know it’s the best solution. If you rush over there, what chances do you have of actually analyzing the music instead of being chased around her room? And if you show too much interest in the music you’ll alert Madame or her husband.”
Michael hated to admit that Gabby was correct. Not that he didn’t appreciate her canny ability to solve a problem, but it meant placing her right in the middle of an espionage plot of violent men.
“These men are dangerous. Have you forgotten last night?”
“No, but we all believed there would be attempts by Napoleon to kidnap me, not spies who want to murder me. Now that we know who our enemies are, we can be better protected. You can tell Lord Ashworth about our suspicions about the husband and someone can watch him, right?”
Michael snorted. “It’s already been done.” He leaned down to tweak her nose. “You do realize that you’re an amazing woman.”
Gabby pulled on his hand. “You will be here to protect me as will Lord Ashworth, and Aunt Euphemia.”
Michael wished he had the same faith as Gabby. His analytical mind couldn’t negate all the possibilities for errors and mistakes. And this was Gabby’s safety and her life that they were gambling with.
Chapter Thirty-two
Gabby rose from the desk when she heard Michael’s voice in the hallway. He must have come immediately after receiving her message that Madame Abney’s music had arrived.
She tugged at the bodice of the lavender day dress Amelia had chosen for her.
Morley announced Michael in his deep, sonorous voice.
Michael bowed and Gabby curtsied, but she didn’t believe for a minute that their formal behavior fooled Morley, who was aware of everything that went on in the house, including Michael spending part of last night in her bedroom.
Michael gave her his deadly dimpled smile, and her heart danced in the romantic gavotte rhythm.
He was dashing in his blue waistcoat and buff breeches and his worn leather riding boots. His injury must be completely healed since he had returned to riding. His face was clean-shaven and Gabby was a bit disappointed. She had liked his night beard stubble and the rough feeling against the sensitive inside of her wrist. Remembering the prickly sensation and Michael’s harsh breath bent over her sent her heart aflutter in triple time.
Gabby waited for Morley to close the door so she could throw herself into his arms. Their eyes met and Gabby couldn’t look away from the hungry intensity of Michael’s stare. Did he read her thoughts? Her need for him, only for him?
It seemed a century before Morley finally closed the door.
Michael walked toward her. “Darling, should you be up?”
Gabby didn’t want to have his concern. After last night, she was a woman awakened to love. The feelings of being loved by Michael had been a startling awakening. Like on the first days of spring sunshine after the long winter rains, she felt renewed, alive and hopeful again. Michael loved her and she loved him.
She glanced up at him, her eyes and heart filled with yearning for this man. This man who made her laugh, who made her believe in love and hope after terrible times.
His rich laugh rumbled in his chest. “Gabby, you can’t look at me like that and not expect a kiss.”
“Am I that obvious?” She placed her arms around his neck and pressed against his solid, hard body.
“Gabby.” Michael tightened his arms and pulled her closer. Gabby felt herself soften around his hard planes and unyielding ridges.
His warm lips tenderly touched hers. He rubbed his lips over hers and her melting body molded around him, wanting to take him in. He took little love bites on the corners of her lips, as if she were a delicious treat.
Gabby didn’t know if she could remain standing by the sensations he elicited with the tip of his tongue, exploring and prodding her to open to him.
And when he pressed his tongue into her mouth searching, her knees wobbled and she tightened her hold on his neck.
Slowly his tongue did gentle forays into her mouth, filling her. Her breasts tightened against his chest, and she rubbed along his maleness.
His short, hot puffs of breath against her face drove her erratic heartbeat faster.
His arms locked her tight against him, and he angled his mouth to take control. His body and tongue moved against her in a demanding, possessive way. Gabby reveled in the sheer pleasure of his need.
She didn’t know that a man’s need could fuel a woman’s need. That there was intense, driving pleasure in being desired, basking in the sensation of his heavy breaths, the burning heat radiating from his body, and his hardness forced against her.
She held onto him, her breath and her knees weak.
Suddenly Michael shuddered in a deep heave and stopped kissing her. “Gabby, we have to stop.” He slowly loosened his hold. “This is not the time nor place.” His sharp cheekbones were as flushed as they had been when he had the fever. The contrast made his shining eyes luminous.
Gabby couldn’t catch her breath. She could barely hear over the roaring pulse in her ears. Michael unwound her hands from around his neck and pressed her palm hard to his mouth and jaws. He rubbed his hot, rough jaw against her tender skin.
His breathing was fast and jagged when he reluctantly released her hands. “Darling, please don’t look at me like that or I won’t be able to stop.”
“But I don’t want you to stop.”
He brushed an errant curl behind her ear. “Sweet Gabby. If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to. And I refuse to rush you or me in such an exposed setting and in a hurried way.”
Gabby felt the thrill of anticipation fading, her skin cooling, and her heartbeat slowing. “But I wouldn’t mind if we hurried. In fact, I think I would like it.”
His voice was rueful and amused. “What am I going to do with you?”
She pressed against him, not willing to give up his heat and hardness. “I don’t know and that is what I was hoping to learn today.”
He rubbed his nose a
gainst hers. “You’re incorrigible. And one of us has to be the responsible one.”
Gabby traced his lips with her tongue as he had done to her. “After last night I feel free and alive.”
She liked the sound of Michael’s sudden heavy intake of breath, and the pounding of his heart against her breasts, when she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He took possession of her lips again, pushing his tongue into her moist mouth. He was demanding in his hunger and need. And for a minute they were lost together, their bodies melded, their tongues intertwined.
He stopped as abruptly as he had started. He lightened his hold and scattered kisses on the sides of her lips, on her cheeks, and on her nose. His voice reverberated close to her ear sending hot and cold chills dancing along her skin. “You’re a very fast learner.”
Gabby twisted the button on his waistcoat and looked up into his smiling eyes. “I’m learning from the master.”
“I need you to sit down or I won’t be the responsible one.” Michael linked his fingers between hers and led her to a chair. “For someone who was injured, you’ve made quite an impressive recovery.”
Gabby sat and stared up at him, her heart and feelings reeling. She was thunderstruck and in awe. “You’re a very powerful medicine.”
Michael bent over and gave her a small peck on the lips. “For that praise, you get one more kiss, Gabby. But only one. Once we know you’re safe from this madness, we’re going to spend days in bed together. And we aren’t going to stop.”
Gabby wanted to sing, dance, and play Bach’s Prelude in C. She felt more vibrant than ever in her life.
Michael went to the side table, which held the decanters. “Do you want a sherry?”
Still breathless, she tried to gain control over the unruly and ungovernable emotions and sensations. “I had told Morley to bring a tea tray.”
And as if by premonition before Gabby could finish, Morley knocked then entered. “Mademoiselle, shall we bring in the tea tray?”
Michael raised his eyebrows at the timely interruption.
“Thank you, Morley. If you’ll place the tray on the table.” Gabby kept her gaze down, away from Morley’s astute scrutiny.