Page 20 of A Pearl Possessed

"Did I pass the test?"

She trembled and was afraid to say anything else. When her hand shook, he took the candle from her she'd brought along through the passageway and placed it safely alongside the other on the chest.

"Please don't leave us because of my foolishness. We need you. You're the best guard at Goodrum's."

He didn't answer but closed in on her lips and claimed them in a long kiss, sucking and licking at her bottom lip until a small moan escaped from her throat.

"I don't know why you left me. I don't know why you're still with him, but I do know one thing."

"Wh-hat?" She still shivered from the feel of him, the fear of his reaction to her foolish earlier charade.

"You belong to me, Adrienne Godet. You always have. You're mine." He pulled her around to face him squarely and spread herlegs around his waist. "Take that off," he ordered, and she pulled the dress over her head.

When his hardened cock thumped an impatient beat against her mound, her cunny sickened with juices. Without warning, he claimed another long kiss, lifted her bottom, and slid inside her. The years they'd been apart and all the resentment she'd felt melted away until she wondered why she'd ever left.

They remained face-to-face, and he added his clever thumb to the movement of his cock. Just as she screamed his name and was about to reach her own peak, he withdrew suddenly, laid her gently back onto the pillows and placed another pillow beneath her lower back. When he entered her again, he gave three long, leisurely thrusts before he began moving quickly inside her.

When she pushed at his chest to remind him there could be no child, he gave one last thrust and spent within her. When she tried to push him away quickly to minimize the danger, he held her in a fierce grip and repeated in her ear, "You are mine, Adrienne."

"But what if there's a child?" Her voice rose petulantly.

"He'll be mine too." He rubbed her back lazily until she fell asleep in his bed. Obadiah smiled into the darkness after he snuffed the candles and rejoined her, carefully covering their sweat-slickened bodies with the earl's elegant sheets.

10

8 SEPTEMBER, 1826

FRAMLINGWOOD'S GROSVENOR SQUARE TOWNHOUSE

Derek paced the drawing room in his Grosvenor Square townhouse, stopping every few laps to touch the pillow covered with a red floral print which looked sadly out of place in his austere abode when he was in town. His neat townhouse on Grosvenor Square was decorated in browns and creams. The cheerful floral print looked as if it held secrets he didn't want guests in his sitting room to guess at.

He walked to the chair where he'd settled his guilty stolen pillow, picked it up, and shamelessly inhaled the remaining scent of his housekeeper. The kidnapped pillow had recently graced her cozy little parlor, and he prayed to God she wouldn't notice the poor thing was missing. Her special scent evinced a blend of cinnamon, cardamom, and something else suspiciously smelling of fresh bread. The final scent overlaying the mix was a little like rain and fresh grass.

If he'd had to explain to any sane person why he'd taken the pillow, he was certain he'd be seen as a simpleton of the first order. After perusing the pillow for a few more seconds he realized the perfect place for the poor thing. His bedchamber. He swept the drawing room with a furtive look, fearing a servantmight see him walk up the finely polished staircase to his upper floor chambers...with a bright patterned pillow tucked beneath his arm.

When he stealthily opened the door to his bedchamber sitting room, he nearly jumped in fright. His valet, Bharat, poked his head around the dressing room door where he'd been polishing boots. He took one look at Derek and then his gaze slid to the bright-colored cushion. "Are we redecorating, sir?" He tinged the question with the just the right amount of sincerity, but Derek knew. He'd been caught out.

He and Bharat had been together through too much to prevaricate. "I know this sounds ridiculous, but I stole this from my housekeeper."

Bharat smiled. "Mrs. Collins, I presume?"

He nodded and could not for the life of him think of anything plausible to say to explain the pillow to his valet, so chose to remain silent.

Bharat said, "A great choice in a pillow to steal. Your Grosvenor Street housekeeper has exquisite taste." With that, the man returned to his polishing, and Derek tossed the telltale pillow onto the settee at the foot of his bed.

9 September,1826

Framlingwood's Grosvenor Square Townhouse

Col and Derek leaned over his library table and studied the latest warning from the blackmailer. This time the man had escalated the warning:

Time's up - Silence is golden and worth a great deal. Otherwise, fair faces will darken again. Directions in today'sTimesnotices, & etc.

Derek's hands turned cold, and he had to sit down. Col's reaction was at the opposite end of the spectrum. "We have the bastard now--." He was positively gleeful.

"I'm glad you're so encouraged. It's all I can do to keep from casting up my accounts." Derek leaned over and held his head, supporting his elbows on his knees.

Col slapped him on the back. "Cheer up. All we have to do is find a copy of theTimes."