Page 47 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

However, she wasn’t stupid. If the thief and the captain of the Nighthawk were associated with McDuff, they were dangerous men.

Beckworth was right to be upset with Hensley, but in the end, he knew it was a good plan, regardless of how they got there.

But if they were going to be successful, she and Beckworth had to work as a team.

That meant she’d have to find a way to repair the rift between them.

Eleanor left her in the foyer, storming down the hall toward the library.

Stella didn’t hear any raised voices, but Eleanor had a sixth sense whenever there was a storm brewing between Bart and Lincoln.

Lincoln deserved a medal for putting up with the old man, but Stella knew part of Bart’s irritability was being back in London.

The other half that he would never admit was that he’d miss Lincoln once he left for school.

She trudged up the stairs, suddenly bone weary, and hoped Beckworth wasn’t back from the East End. Number one item on her list was a nap. She rubbed her stomach, sorry she hadn’t eaten more. Maybe a snack before the nap.

She expected Libby to have met her on the stairs if not in the foyer.

Maybe she was downstairs and hadn’t heard the coach pull up.

She pushed through the bedroom door, her head down as she fussed with the buttons on her dress while kicking off her shoes.

When she lifted her head to see if Libby might be in the dressing room, she stopped dead in her tracks.

The drapes that were normally opened halfway and been completely drawn back, filling the room with sunshine and giving it an entirely different appearance.

The door to the balcony had been left open, and a light breeze, while a touch on the cooler side, brought the scent of blooms from the garden.

A headier floral scent drifted to her from colorful blossoms displayed on one of the side tables.

Libby had been busy while she was gone. The question was why.

She stepped toward the balcony but stopped when she caught a glimpse of something on the floor near the hearth.

She fussed with the buttons on her dress again as she ventured toward it.

A blanket was spread across the floor with two pillows piled on top.

A basket sat at one end, a bottle of wine and two glasses next to it.

A small gasp escaped her. Beckworth. This could only be his doing.

She startled when warm fingers brushed hers aside and began unbuttoning her dress. The tingle of lips scraping against the small hairs at the base of her neck sent shivers through her, and she would have leaned back against him, but she wanted the dress off.

“I thought we could make time for a picnic.” His voice was deep as his lips moved to her ear. “A private one.”

No longer caring about the dress, she fell against him with a small moan, but he pushed her forward as his fingers deftly released button after button until the dress fell away. Once it lay puddled at her feet, he pulled her back and placed soft kisses across her shoulders.

“Don’t move. Not an inch.”

She didn’t. Excitement replaced the shivers. This was her Teddy. And when she felt the silky touch of her robe sliding over her, she almost purred with delight. She’d always found his dressing her almost as erotic as when he undressed her.

When her robe was on, covering her undergarments, he took her hand and led her to the blanket. He was dressed in pants and a loose shirt, but his feet were bare.

“I had Nellie make us something light since you just had lunch.” Beckworth sat and pulled her down next to him. When her stomach growled at the scent drifting out of the basket, he grinned. “Or maybe I should ask for more food to be sent up.”

She slapped his leg. “I didn’t eat much at Mary’s.”

He gave her a speculative look, then poured the wine. “Let’s not talk about that. No one else enters this room, not physically or through words. This is our afternoon.”

She took the glass and then a sip. “I’ve missed us.”

“Me, too.” He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss, but pulled back before she could respond.

She wanted to pout but decided to let him take the lead on the afternoon. This was his plan, and she didn’t want to spoil it. When he tugged the basket over, she noticed the stack of paper, an inkpot, and two quills lying on the floor behind it.

“Ah, you’ve discovered my surprise.”

“I thought the picnic was the surprise.”

“Just phase one.” He leaned over to pull the items closer. “I believe I mentioned wanting to make a few changes to the gardens at Waverly.”

“I remember.”

“I thought we could make those plans together. I know you haven’t spent a lot of time in the gardens or seen everything in full bloom, but I want your opinions in the planning.”

Stella stared at the pile of papers, suddenly wanting to grab a piece to fold. Her fingers danced over the sheets instead, getting a chuckle out of him. “Don’t worry. I won’t make a swan out of them.”

“You didn’t think we were going to make plans on every sheet, did you? I thought you might want to make some swans while you think.”

Rather than the paper, she ran her fingers over his cheek. “You know me too well.” When her stomach growled again, they both laughed. “But I think we should feed the beast first. Then we can make plans.”

After devouring most of their meal and a good portion of the wine, they lay on their bellies, their heads close together, sheets of paper spread around them.

Each sheet was a hand-drawn picture of a flower bed or section of garden, filled with numerous lines, circles, and squiggles along with notes on possible flowers, bushes, and trees.

A few folded swans lay about, and Stella’s knees were bent, her legs slowly swaying back and forth as she finished noting the colors of flowers she preferred for the sitting area by the lake.

Beckworth added notes on a new area that would be their secret garden. A place where they could have more intimate outdoor picnics.

“I assume Waverly has a greenhouse I haven’t seen?” Stella asked as she closed the inkpot and laid the quill on one of the sheets of paper.

“Yes. I’ll need to give you a tour of it when we return home. Gilroy is the head gardener and masterful at propagation.” He chuckled. “I can’t believe I haven’t taken you there yet.”

She bumped his shoulder. “It might have something to do with that new foal you prefer to spend your time with.”

“That might be an accurate assessment.” He pushed the sheets of paper away, along with the inkpot and quills. “But I’d rather not talk anymore.”

“What did you have in mind, Lord Beckworth?”

He inched over until their bodies were fully aligned and pulled down the edge of her robe until her shoulder was bare. His kisses were warm and light as he moved the robe down her arm, revealing more skin along the way.

She closed her eyes, relishing the shivers that ran through her.

Her anticipation of what would come made her squirm, so when his lips suddenly crushed hers, her surprise quickly gave way to a passionate heat that overtook her.

If he’d meant to slowly seduce her, he’d tossed out his playbook. And she was ready for it.

They were like young lovers again, unable to get enough of each other. Clothes, unwanted barriers between them, disappeared as if by magic. Neither were happy until they were skin on skin, hands roaming, fingers caressing, and kisses torching.

All the hidden secrets and misunderstandings floated away like ashes in the wind. The tensions between them evaporated. They were one in mind and spirit. Whatever came next with the mission, they would handle it because they were stronger together. Unstoppable.

Before his ministrations took her fully to the height of pleasure, one odd thought slipped through. Thank the heavens she had the foresight to bring her crossbow.