Free Lynne Connolly by Maiden Lane

Julia and Steven.
     
    Richard bundled me into a carriage as soon as he could, about half an hour after our confrontation. The night was still young for town, but I didn’t attempt to conceal my tiredness. After I had related the conversation to him, he drew my head down to his shoulder and curved one arm around me. “I’d trust your instincts over most peoples’ reasoning, my love. It’s all useful information, and soon we’ll be in a position to decide what to do.”
     

Chapter Six
     
    The door slammed. My husband had come home in a temper. I glanced at Nichols. “You can go now.”
    He arrived like a whirlwind but remembered to close the door quietly behind him. I smiled. “Welcome home, my lord.” I won a wry grin for my pains.
    “Did I disturb you? I’m sorry.”
    “I think you disturbed the people several doors down.”
    “I fear not, because he has just disturbed me.” Reminded of the cause of his anger, he lost the smile.
    He shucked off his heavy coat on the nearest chair. One thing I could never persuade my husband of was the need for tidiness. He saw no point at all in such a thing. After all, what were servants for?
    The fire blazed in the hearth, and I had been ready for a rest with a favourite novel until it was time to dress for dinner. I mentally bade Tom Jones farewell. “So which of our neighbours has had the temerity to upset you?”
    He snorted. “Pitt would disturb the devil if he thought there was political capital in it for him.”
    Ah. Mr. Pitt and his wife lived farther down Brook Street, and the man was a termagant in male clothing. He had a brilliant political career, all his efforts except that of wooing and marrying the love of his life were for the good of his country and his party. He did nothing without a hidden motive, and his capacity for convoluted argument was probably only bettered by Henry Fox.
    “So what political capital does he find in you?” But I guessed. If anyone could persuade Richard to use his share of Thompson’s to his good, then he would have a distinct advantage over his peers. So far, Richard had refused to agree. And as a shareholder, so did I.
    Richard crossed the room to me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You were about to rest, weren’t you? I’m sorry, my love. I should have been less precipitate.”
    “Maybe. But I wasn’t resting, so pour us a dish of tea and tell me what made you so furious.”
    His mouth tilted up at one corner. A good sign. “Only you know me well enough to know how disturbed he made me.” He stroked down the neckline of my gown. I had already removed the fichu, so a good amount of my skin was on display. He let his finger slide down to my cleavage but lingered there only a moment and put his attention to unhooking my gown where it fastened to my stomacher.
    “Pitt caught me in the Cocoa-Tree. As luck would have it, the place wasn’t as full as usual, so he could speak freely.” He huffed a laugh and unfastened another hook. “As much as he ever does, that is. I won’t bore you with the convoluted way he got to his point.” He brushed the top part of my breast, and I shivered and half-closed my eyes, letting him see my reaction to his touch. His low purr of approval worked my arousal up another notch, set my skin tingling. Slowly, watching my face, he finished unfastening the garment before dropping it to the floor. Then he glanced down, my breasts all but revealed under the white kid stays and my shift. I breathed in and enjoyed his smile as he observed the swell.
    He touched the upper surface of my left breast with one finger, gently stroking. The touch made me aware of all my skin, all my body, and what Richard could do to it.
    “Soft, enticing,” he murmured, before he leaned forward and kissed me, just brushing my lips with his.
    I moaned, wanting more, but I knew the game by now and I could relax and enjoy it. Barely. I also knew ways I could make him stop it. It gave me enormous pleasure to know that