Chapter Seven

January 18, 1818

Rogue's Arcade Club

St. James Place

London, England

It had been two days since the butler had told Evan that Lord Starkington had paid a call on his wife. Two days since she'd sent the peer on his way. Two days since she'd made an effort to spend more time with him—Evan—and he couldn't be more pleased.

Yes, he'd been told about the potential affair between Vivian and her beau, and while he should have been incensed by it, he couldn't blame her, for she'd had no idea where he'd been or even if he'd been alive. If the circumstances had been reversed, he might have done the same thing.

And because of this, he had made inroads into deepening a connection between them. As he continued to establish a schedule in this new—old—life, the bits of it he looked forward to the most were afternoon tea he took with her followed by their customary walk in Hyde Park, or if they didn't feel like going all the way there, then they would walk about Mayfair or even the square behind the buildings containing townhouses. Dinner was another treat, for he had no idea what sort of foods he enjoyed, and embarking upon that journey was always a surprise.

Then they would retire to the drawing room where they would either read or converse, and she would tell him stories about various members of the beau monde. Sometimes they went directly to the private sitting room on the third level where they had more intimate conversations, and a few times, they would indulge in gentle kissing but never anything more intense, but he always hoped. During those sessions, she was more prone to telling him of her innermost thoughts and feelings and fears. He would do the same then they would retire to their separate bedchambers.

Some nights he suffered from nightmares; some he didn't, but on the nights that sleep was elusive, Vivian was always attuned to his needs. She would either climb into bed beside him and hold him until the terrors ceased, or he would bed down on the sofa in her dressing room while she slept, oblivious to his interruption.

It didn't matter, for he was just calmer in her proximity. She didn't solve all his problems or take away the nightmares, but her presence made everything more tolerable.

And he was so damned thankful for that.

"Baselford, are you still with us?"

The sound of annoyance in the Duke of Strathfield's voice yanked Evan out of his thoughts. "I am." He nodded. "Pardon the woolgathering. I am realizing how grateful that I am for those I have in my life." He met the duke's gaze without shame. "This is a rather difficult journey for me, and I'm not certain I could traverse it if it wasn't for everyone here as well as my wife."

"While I am glad for you, presently, we have assembled for a council of war, so to speak." Yet the duke's expression softened. "Evil is coming against us hard and fast. We need to find a way to stop it."

"I understand." With a glance about the large private room, Evan nodded at the various club members who had gathered. These men were his friends, and he would do anything for them. "I am ready to be of help."

"Thank you, Baselford. I appreciate the assistance." This from the Duke of Edenthorpe who stood at the rear of the room. From what Evan had managed to learn, he had a young child at home. His bearing was tall and proud, his back ramrod straight, and though he walked with the assistance of a cane like Strathfield did, it didn't detract from his big presence. "And thank you all for coming tonight. We are rather in crisis as a group."

Murmurs of agreement went through the room.

Edenthorpe continued. "Last night, someone attempted to break into my house but was thwarted by the guard assigned to me you rogues hired. At the same time, Twinsfield was attacked on his way back from this very club. Thankfully, he's been training in bare-knuckle boxing with some of the other men and managed to put down the threat."

All eyes went to the baron, who sported quite the shiner on one eye and bruising on his neck. But he nodded and grinned at the company.

"The assailant got much worse, and these bruises only guaranteed more attention from my wife," he said as a rush of color came over his cravat.

"Regardless, these attacks have angered us individually and collectively," Strathfield said. He stood at the opposite side of the room than Edenthorpe, a taller, perhaps broader image of Edenthorpe, complete with a cane, only Strathfield's featured an ivory head instead of a silver one, shaped and curved like a serpent. "I want to know who is ordering these attacks and why. Only then can we make them halt."

"Agreed." Edenthorpe nodded. "It's time to start laying a trap for the new criminal network. The more of them we can capture, perhaps these outer rings will eventually lead us to the person in charge. I want this threat neutralized immediately. Our families are on the line, and I don't take kindly to that." A faint sheepish expression came over his face. "I am inordinately protective of my daughter in a way that I have never been regarding my wife."

Another round of murmurs of amusement and agreement went through the room.

"I cannot imagine what you are feeling." Evan sent his gaze around at the other men. "Or any of you who have children. I do not, but the thought of something bad occurring to my wife nearly makes me beside myself with fear." Slowly, he shook his head. "To be fair, I have already lost my life as it was, so it should be me who is putting himself into harm's way by drawing out one of these people."

"We all appreciate your willingness, especially with your own complications." Edenthorpe nodded. "Any criminal network would need funding to set up their organization, and unless I miss my guess, though this one is new, it must either already have ready coin, or it's obtained the use of an existing—if ragtag—ring of criminals."

"Then the incentive needs to be outrageous." With a sigh, Evan tossed a glance about the room. None of these men deserved to be hunted and threatened. "I have something that might work. It's a sapphire and diamond necklace that once belonged to Marie Antoinette." In low tones, he told them the story that Vivian had told him regarding the necklace and earbobs. "I don't remember my time as a jewel thief, but if Vivian said so, it must be true."

A chuckle came from Edenthorpe. "It's true, my friend. I remember that event, remember you as a much younger man bragging over his first score and from Marie Antoinette no less." His smile lifted Evan's spirits. "I asked that you come by the Rogue's Arcade that first time and to bring the necklace. I wanted it as proof. It's a damned fine piece."

Pleasure curled in Evan's chest. "Thank you." He grinned as the other rogues looked on. "I agreed that it's time for the threats to stop, and at least in this way I'll feel I'm contributing to keeping everyone safe." Then he shrugged. "Do you want the earbobs as well?"

Strathfield shook his head. "Not necessary at this time. The necklace will suffice."

"Good." An odd sense of peace came over him. "The only question now is where shall we draw out our unfortunate victim?"

A bit of a debate stirred about the room as the men assembled compared events on their schedules as well as the people hosting said affairs.

Finally, Edenthorpe held up a hand for silence. "Since many of us were invited to the Darnell's rout in five days' time, this will be a perfect place to spring the trap. It's unclear if the invitations were sent out to gather us into one place or if it's serendipity, but we'll use it to our advantage." Slowly, the duke met everyone's gaze. "The sapphire necklace will be in play, and the man who takes the bait won't leave the premises without our escort." Then his gaze bore into Evan's. "As long as Lady Baselton agrees. No sense putting her in danger carelessly."

"Right." Evan nodded. A grin curbed his lips. "I'm sure I can talk her ‘round. She's got quite the spirit, and she's committed to me retaining my previous memories. Wouldn't an operation of this sort at least stir something of my past?"

Strathfield snorted. "The brain is a murky place, indeed. However, if at any time you believe she's in danger, call off the mission. Family is more important than exposing a member of the criminal element."

"While I agree, I will also add that every man here is my family. Without you, I wouldn't be standing here now." As a waver entered his voice, he cleared his throat. "When one of us is threatened, we all are. I thank you for entrusting this mission to me."

Another murmur went through the room.

"Go home, Baselton. It's already late enough. Find your wife, kiss her, be thankful for her." Twinsfield was the closest to him. He laid a hand on Evan's shoulder. "But be careful. Don't need you looking like me, and you're old enough that the bruises will linger." He snorted with laughter when Evan responded in mock outrage. "You've barely reentered your wife's life and are learning how to interact with her again. If she has doubts, don't pick at them. Keep her safe. Nurture that relationship. We'll think of something else."

"I appreciate that and will send word either way once the matter is discussed." Excitement buzzed at the base of his spine. Finally, there was an opportunity for him to be useful to his friends, allowing him to pay them back for all they had done for him. And yes, he would be lying even to himself if he wasn't looking forward to perhaps kissing his wife again.

Baselton House

St. James Place

The longcase clock in the drawing room chimed out half past midnight as Evan climbed the stairs to the third floor. The bulk of the townhouse was dark. Mr. Davis had left a lamp burning in the entry hall for him, and Evan took that with him as he made his way to the third floor. It wasn't too late, but would Vivian already be in dreamland? If she was, he wouldn't wake her, but would wait until breakfast to broach the subject. Since his suite was at the end of the corridor, hers was the first door he came to after clearing the stairs.

Golden light glowed from beneath the door, which was a good indication she wasn't abed. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out in an effort to calm the knots of anxiety pulling in his gut. This was the first time he sought entrance into her private rooms, and she'd not come into his, at least not that he'd been aware of.

After setting the lamp on a narrow table that rested flush to the wall beneath an oil painting of a country pond surrounded by trees, he took another deep breath. "Vivian?" He knocked softly on the door. "Are you still awake?"

"Come in, Evan." The muffled sound of her invitation had both excitement and trepidation twisting down his spine.

"Right." Pressing on the door latch, he urged the door open, and after quickly entering the dressing room, he closed the panel behind him. "Uh, if you are hoping to turn in, I can leave," he said as he made his way through the room and then stood in the adjoining doorway. Dear God, he'd not seen her in such undress the whole time he'd been beneath this roof, and doing so now provoked a swift reaction.

She stood near a bureau where she put a silver-backed brush onto a purple velvet-lined tray. Clad in a thin lawn night dress of light blue and edged with lace, she was the perfect vision of a wraith, but it was the brown-blonde waterfall of her hair that hung in loose waves down her back that kept and held his attention.

"Don't be silly. I'd waited to see if you would come home. When you didn't, I dismissed my maid after undressing and thought to settle into bed with a book, but if you wish to do something else, I wouldn't mind, for I'm glad you're here." When she turned around from the bureau, she offered a smile that promised something wicked.

"I, uh…" Why the devil was he suddenly so nervous around her?

One of her light brown eyebrows rose. "Is all well?"

"Yes." In the light of the single candle that burned on her bedside table, her form was mostly lost to the shadows and jumping illumination. His wife always appeared beautiful, but tonight, in the loose, thin night clothing, with the bare shadows of her body flirting with the fabric, she was near ethereal. And God, but she smelled lovely, like a bower of flowers, like the gardens in the country. "I remember window boxes, gardens." He gawked at her. "Full of flowers, myriads of flowers of all shapes and colors, their perfume in the air." It was awkward, this half-memory not fully formed that had jumped into his mind merely from the scent of her perfume.

"What?" She stared with shock in her expression.

"Uh, your perfume. It's like flowers, all sorts of flowers. I remember then from… somewhere?" Evan shrugged. "In the country, not here, not in Town."

"Perhaps you recall the time you used to spend at Baselton Hall. It's near Cornwall but still in the English countryside, a rural area with plenty of farms and meadows." Still regarding him with shock but also a bit of hope, Vivian came toward him. "We haven't been there in an age, surely not since you were in the military."

"That is what my man-of-affairs has told me."

She nodded. "It was a wonderful place from what I can remember. I used to enjoy walking the acreage and watching the wildlife."

"I fear I have failed the tenants and everyone I'm responsible for on that property and the others." Truly, he needed to make inroads into repairing those relationships.

"Be kind to yourself. That absence isn't your fault. We shall visit once the threat of snow is over." When she tilted her head as she regarded him, a tremble moved through his heart and his shaft shivered to life. "You are doing the best you can under the circumstances, so please remember that you cannot rush healing."

"It is difficult not to berate myself, coming from the simple life I'd had to all of… this." He glanced around her suite that had been done up in shades of moss green and light blue. Clearly, she favored those shades, and they suited her.

"Well, you haven't had a breakdown yet, so I'd say you've done a remarkable job acclimating."

Evan snorted. "No breakdowns but plenty of nightmares or day terrors. Every day is a struggle for control." Had he always had that, even while in the military? He would need to ask one of the rogues. Then he couldn't remain parted from her. Once he'd crossed the floor, his footsteps silent on the thick Aubusson carpeting, he took her hand in his. "Uh, I came to ask a favor of you."

"Oh?" She clung to his hand, and he appreciated the support. "Did something happen at the club tonight?"

"It's disheartening, really. They believe a new criminal ring has formed, and some of its members have already threatened some of the rogues—Edenthorpe, Lockwood, and Twinsfield in particular." As best he could, Evan told her about what had been happening. "They want to draw one of the buggars out by using bait at a rout in five days so they can capture and question him."

"Did you volunteer yourself?" Concern clouded her blue eyes as she peered up at him.

"No, I said you might wish to do it, while wearing the sapphire and diamond necklace."

"What?" When she attempted to pull her hand from his, he held on tighter and went so far as to slip his other hand to her waist. She frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Hoping to convince you that all will be well if we do this." Feeling oddly not himself yet more comfortable with the man he'd become in more months than he could remember, he grinned. What was more, it felt genuine instead of forced. "I told the rogues you were full of spirit and would more than likely enjoy the challenge."

"I think that hit on your head had addled your brain more than you've said." But she smiled and his world tilted.

"Perhaps you're right, and if you don't wish to wear the necklace at the rout in five days, I won't argue you with, for you are more valuable to me than jewels." The heat of her that seeped into his fingertips through her night dress spurred him onward. "At least that is what I hope you sense from me, from my treatment of you."

In the candlelight, the woman in his arms wore her vulnerability and confusion like a garment, and oddly enough, it reassured him that his own wasn't a weakness. Damn but he craved her lips pressed against his, wanted to kiss her more than anything. A nodcock idea, surely, for they were naught but strangers still, so he pushed the thought away.

"You have certainly been quite the gentleman since you have come home." Vivian turned into him, slipped a hand up his chest then rested her fingers at his shoulder, and that slight move of possession worked to unravel his control.

"Would that I can be more to you than merely that," he whispered as he brought her other hand to his lips. "But it will take time, and I hope to God I am a patient man."

"Would you believe that you were not when I knew you before?"

"I only have your word to go by, even though the rogues have done a bang-up job telling me about the kind of man I used to be." And some of those revelations didn't sit well with him. "I am trying every day to be better than I was before, even if I still cannot remember. I only have you and my friends to guide me."

"To be honest, Evan, the man you are now, the man you are growing into, has impressed the hell out of me." Since she rarely used any sort of vulgarity, it made an impact, and as she stared up at him and he gazed down at her, there was no more need for talking. In fact, he didn't want words in this moment; he merely wanted her.

For once, he would do this strictly for his benefit, because he needed to touch her, to encourage a greater sort of closeness between them than he'd had before. Slowly, watching her the whole time, he slipped a hand to her nape and with a hand resting at the small of her back, he drew her closer. "Ah, Vivy, I only have so much willpower this night." Seconds later, he claimed her lips in a kiss designed to bring them both comfort and perhaps introduce himself to her all over again.

When she made a slight sound at the back of her throat, he pulled slightly away in order to peer into her eyes. "Should I continue? Or would you like for me to leave?"

"I…" If she hadn't looked at him with the same hunger in her blue eyes that was coursing through his blood, if her fingers hadn't curled into the lapel of his tailcoat, if the tip of her tongue hadn't darted out to moisten her bottom lip, if she hadn't furrowed the fingers of her other hand into the hair at his nape, he could have bid her goodnight and walked out of her suite without another thought, but all of those things had happened. "Please don't go. This is beyond lovely."

With a groan, Evan wrapped her more securely in his arms and crushed his lips to hers, and this time, he couldn't stop at merely chaste kisses. He wanted much more from her than words could say, for in connecting with her like this, in such a base way, perhaps it wouldn't matter that he wasn't the man he'd been when he'd married her. And every kiss he took from her, shared with her, the perception of calm grew. In her arms, it was much like coming home from a long stint at war, and the goodness in her had the capacity to blot out the horrid in him. It was quite a confusing yet wonderful feeling. When he encouraged her lips to part, she tried to utter a protest, but he took full advantage. The second his tongue slid against hers, more of his control shattered.

"Mmm." As if she were as hungry for him as he was for her, Vivian kissed him back with an enthusiasm that surprised him. Satin slid over steel as they dueled for control, and the longer the kiss went on, the more interested his shaft grew. When she surrendered with a tiny sigh, need shivered down his spine. She looped her arms about his shoulders, and the second her fingers caressed his nape, every thought fled his mind.

He only wanted her; had always wanted her.

"Dear God, you are amazing." While devouring her mouth, Evan lifted her , shuttled her over the floor, and at the foot of the bed, he deposited her arse onto the end. The book that was innocently resting there, waiting for her, tumbled to the carpet with a dull thud. "I could kiss you for the rest of my life."

"You never truly enjoyed the act before," she whispered but she didn't relax her hold on him. "This is… This is wonderful."

"Agreed." And he returned to her lips as if he'd found a particularly intriguing toy. The pounding of his pulse in his ears kept time to the insistent throb of his shaft as he dragged his lips along the column of her silky neck. That floral scent of her was both comfort and excitement; he couldn't have enough. It spurred him onward, beckoned him closer until he held her head in his palms and moved between her naturally splayed legs with her night dress rucked up to her thighs.

"Evan, I… I've missed you." A soft moan escaped her throat as he returned to her lips, drinking from them over and over. She fumbled with his cravat, her fingers clawing at it, and when she finally had it undone, she surged upward to press her lips to the skin of his throat while she slipped her hands down his back to clutch his arse cheeks.

Need slammed into him; he was nearly drunk on her, and the fact she wasn't a retiring near-widow fanned the flames in his blood but also intimidated him. Hell, did he even remember how to pleasure her? Any woman?

"Evan…"

The sound of her plea wrenched him back to the present. Deciding to be daring instead of fearful, he nibbled the underside of her jaw while working the ties that kept the top portion of her night dress closed. When the bodice gaped open, he tugged it downward until the thin fabric caught on her elbows and her breasts popped free.

"Gorgeous," he whispered, and damn if his hands didn't shake when he cupped those ivory globes that fit his palms perfectly.

When she trembled, that reaction transferred to him. "Touch me. It's been so long." She pressed a hand over his, guiding his fingers to the pebbled nipple.

"I'm fortunate indeed that you haven't been with a man like this in my absence."

She gasped and her eyes fluttered open. "I, ah… I should tell you…"

"Shh. Later." As he kissed her again, he worried those hardened tips with the pads of his thumbs. A tiny whimper left her throat and she squirmed, so he caressed her breasts and rolled the nipples. Each nip, nibble, or suckle he gave her, the more he wanted to continue exploring the rest of her body, thought he might perish if he couldn't see her fully naked or lie next to her in the bed. "Vivy, let me see all of you." She plucked at his sleeves, his waistcoat, shoved the tailcoat halfway from his shoulders; perhaps she wanted the same and just didn't have the words to tell him.

"No time for that," she said in a hurried whisper that held a desperate edge. "Do it here."

Desire clouded his mind; hunger drove his actions. With a new appreciation for his wife, Evan peered down at her, studied her as if she were a work of art in a museum. "So beautiful." He slipped a hand beneath her skirting, grinning when she moaned in encouragement. The silky skin of her thighs nearly sent him over the edge. If he didn't slow down, if he wasn't careful, he'd claim her right here without giving any thought to how that might affect their future. "Vivian, please bid me nay. Surely we are but strangers." Before he was completely done in by the sensations coursing through his body and the lust hardening his shaft, he leaned over her and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

"I don't want to, for I want you right here, right now, moving inside me, telling me with your body we will be all right." Then she struggled upright and reached for his frontfalls. "Let me help you out of those breeches."

As suddenly as the desire had overtaken him, fear tossed it out and took over, leaving him cold with unease coiling in his belly. He didn't even know how she liked to be pleasured or touched or even how he should approach this first time with her since he'd been gone. And if he did his husbandly duty the wrong way, would she feel disappointed? Wonder where the man she'd married had gone? Ultimately hate him?

"Hold." As his confidence wavered, he backed away, shoved a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I don't know… We shouldn't…" Ah, God, I sound like the village dunce. "I'm not certain I can…"

She blew out a breath in annoyance. "I understand." Without comment, Vivan righted her night apparel and tied the strings, hiding her breasts from view. "I suppose doing something of this nature might be daunting without the appropriate precautions or preparations." Disappointment warred with frustration in her eyes.

"There are too many questions and concerns." Swallowing to encourage moisture into his dry throat, he said, "I'm afraid of disappointing you after all this time."

"You could never be a disappointment." After sliding from the bed, she closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his chest. That tiny bit of affection had need slamming into him. "But know this. The next time you come in here kissing me like that, we will finish the overture." Her smile held encouragement. "If you don't remember how, I have no qualms teaching you, because at the end of the night, you are still my husband and it's you that I want."

Emotion balled in his throat. "I don't deserve you," he said in a choked voice.

"That may be so, but you have me all the same, and we will walk this path of uncertainty together." Then she slipped her arms about his middle. "Now, come to bed." When his body went taut, she snorted. "You can lie next to me, talk to me or even hold me until I fall asleep. Then you can go to your suite, but I want you with me just now."

"Are you afraid?" He didn't wish to be the only vulnerable one.

"A bit. This is rather like a new relationship, and we must learn how we'll fit together, interact together." She frowned. "But if you speak of the attacks, that is also a yes. If the members of the Rogue's Arcade are being hunted along with their families, I'm at risk as well as you, but you can tell Edenthorpe I absolutely want to help draw the bastards out." She pulled at his hand. "I won't have you taken away from me again."

Moisture welled in his eyes. "Thank you. That loyalty means so much. Every man away at war, away from his family for whatever reason beyond his control should have such an understanding and considerate wife."

A curt nod was her only answer before she bounced her gaze away and then darted toward the bed.