A Whisper of Treason Read online

  She could resume her research, for which she was enormously grateful. Although she had enjoyed her stay in the cooler north of Italy, finally, she could study the glories of the city she’d dreamed of all her life. She had arrived with the Duke and Duchess of Trensom at the end of May, but they spent only a few short weeks here before the heat drove them north, along with most of the other residents of Rome. The ones that could afford it, that was. Rome was unendurable in the summer. With stifling heat and malaria rampant, they’d had no choice but to relocate for July and August.

  Opening her eyes, she gazed at the grubby glory of Trajan’s Column, the subject of her current study. The marble edifice had stood for centuries, seen kings and popes come and go. Although battered and soot-stained, it remained, testament to a proud empire.

  The ache in her back made its presence felt as she leaned up. Standing, she pressed her hands to the small of her back, trying to ease the stiffness resulting from long hours sitting in one position. Ruefully, she contemplated the papers at her feet, scattered over the rough stone. She’d have to pick them up. But her back hurt and her stomach growled. If she didn’t hurry, she’d miss breakfast, and then Matilda would notice how long she’d been gone. On her own, except for the servant she’d brought with her.

  Come to think of it, where was her footman? He’d excused himself some time ago, and hadn’t yet come back. Pulling her hat brim down so it shaded her eyes, Delphi swept her gaze around the immediate area. No Trensom footman anywhere. A few people wandered around the open area, mostly servants and early risers, eager to enjoy the day before the heat descended again.

  She’d outlined a whole sector since she’d last remembered seeing the man. Damn the creature. If she found out she was out alone, Matilda wouldn’t let her out again. Usually, she accompanied Trensom’s daughters on their daily walk, which always included the column. But today, Margery had felt unwell, so Delphi had come alone.

  Sighing, she bent and swept the scattered papers into a rough pile before standing and turning back for her leather portfolio. Unfortunately, her skirts brushed the pile apart again, but she had little time to consider that.

  The atmosphere around her stirred, her only warning before a powerful arm circled her waist, dragging her against a hard, male body. Delphi gasped in shock, terror freezing her for a precious few seconds.

  She’d been stupid, allowing her footman to leave her alone. Gangs of men and youths caroused around the city. Rome was notorious for them. Her love for the place had blinded her to its dangers and, now, she would pay for it. But she wouldn’t give up easily.

  The buttons of her attacker’s waistcoat pressed into her back through the thin silk of her loose, rust-colored gown. Her hat tipped forward, temporarily blinding her and sending her loosely pinned hair flying, tendrils of it tickling her shoulders. As she sucked in a breath to scream for help, her captor spun her around, shoved her hat out of the way and fastened his mouth to hers. She clenched her fists and lifted one foot, ready to bring her knee up the second she had a chance.

  Delphi’s shocked gasp disappeared into his throat as the kiss turned from a rough buss to a deeper, more lascivious embrace in the space of a heartbeat. Her heart pounded, fit to burst. His hands spread over her silk-clad back.

  Fear leached out of her and anger poured in to fill the void it had left. That scent; only one man used it because it was made specifically for him by a shop on Bond Street, London. And she recognized the kiss, the lips, and his hold. Adam, Duke of Kilsyth, had her in his arms.

  He’d only kissed her once before, but she knew him. Although she lowered her knee, she kept her fists clenched, but her arms were now, inexplicably, around him. She was clutching him rather than trying to push him away.

  After he’d abruptly left London with not a word, she’d never expected to see him again.

  But here he was again. Kissing her senseless. And just like the first time, she couldn’t do anything but respond.

  Nestling closer, she tipped back her head and opened her mouth.

  A low groan passed from his mouth to hers. The vibration thrummed through her whole body, resonating through her, bringing her to a state of awareness she’d never expected to experience here. Or anywhere else, come to that. She loved it, hated it, wanted him.

  He spread his big hands over her back, encompassing her, making her feel safe. Delphi rarely felt safe.

  Wings clapped as a few of the ever-present starlings swept above them, their screams tearing the air. He tore his mouth away.

  Delphi caught sight of the wildness in his eyes before he lifted his head, staring up at the noisy birds. Watching his throat work was the third most erotic experience of Delphi’s life. The second had happened a few seconds earlier. The other in a house in Greenwich at dawn.

  He gasped, sucked in a deep draft of the still-cool air and released her, stepping back before she could do something idiotic like reaching for him.

  “Dear God, Delphi! You were supposed to push me away and scream, not respond like a starving—” He cut off his words with a slash of his hand, the rings on his fingers glittering in the sunlight.

  Delphi leaned forward and poked him in the chest. “You were going to say whore, weren’t you? You think women don’t know these words?”

  He pokered up, shades of the patrician duke returning. His shoulders straightened, and his clean-cut features held a trace of hauteur. “Ladies of fashion don’t use those words.”

  “Yes, they do,” she snapped. “Just not when men are nearby.”

  The Duke of Kilsyth always dressed in the height of fashion, but surely this finery was too much for daytime wear, even for him. The silver embroidery on his salmon-pink coat caught the early morning sun, glinting as he moved. His cream waistcoat was even more heavily adorned, and the buttons marching down the front of his coat and waistcoat flashed like diamonds.

  Narrowing her eyes, Delphi took a closer look. The edges of the magnificent coat looked worn, the silver thread tired and tarnished. His waistcoat was grubby, the buttonholes worn and too large, as if this outfit were the only evening wear he possessed. Delphi knew that was far from the case. He had an outfit for every day of the week—every day of the month probably. He never had to worry about clothes, so why was he wearing an outfit that had seen better days? And why the flash and glitter? The duke usually preferred elegance to an overabundance of adornment. One ring, not three, artistry rather than abundance.

  The kiss must have rendered her silly. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “I hadn’t heard you were in Rome.”

  “You consider yourself the registry for visitors to Rome?” Now the haughty duke had returned, but she wasn’t fooled, and she wouldn’t let him put her off.

  Two could play it that way. She dipped into a curtsey. “Your grace,” she murmured. “What an absolute delight that you chose to grant me your presence.” Her mock gushing sycophancy was bound to annoy him and, right now, she wanted nothing more than to see him fume.

  He responded with a grunt. Most unducal. “Get up, do.”

  Delphi rose, careful to retain her balance, disposing her hands in the prescribed way. She could be at court, she thought smugly. Not a stumble.

  The gleam in his bright blue eyes told her she’d won the point.

  “Such gammon!” he said before he responded to her greeting with a graceful bow. Delphi preferred the kiss, but she’d never admit to it, except to her guilty self.

  When he rose, he’d restored his usual easy charm.

  She bit back her initial retort. “I’d have heard you were here,” she said stubbornly. “People know we were—friends once.” So close that she’d traveled half a continent to get away from the gossip. And now, here he was, standing before her, unrepentant.

  “I arrived two days ago. I haven’t yet announced my arrival, or gone anywhere I might meet someone who knew me.”

  He still hadn’t told her why he was here. Or where he’d come from.

  “Y
ou just disappeared from London.”

  “I had good reason.”

  Which he didn’t seem inclined to tell her. The Dersinghams had arrived back in London at the beginning of March, ready to prepare for the season that would begin after Easter, only to find that the Duke of Kilsyth had disappeared without a word. Nobody knew where he’d gone. Society was already gossiping, and the wicked stories that he’d traveled across the world rather than continue his courtship of Delphi had hurt her badly.

  He paced away from her, stirring a sheet of paper, but not appearing to notice. He came back. “Perhaps I should ask you what you’re doing here. Tell me you’re not here alone, my lady.”

  “I’m not here alone,” she repeated dutifully. Then glanced around. “Not normally, anyway. In any case, I have as much right to be here as anyone else.” She was not beholden to him. “And I am not your anything.” Although she might have been once.

  “I see no attendant. You know as well as I do how much trouble that could lead to.”

  He was right, but why should she let him know that? He had no right to tell her what to do. Then again, a young, respectable woman walking the streets of Rome alone was asking for trouble. “I fail to see what business that is of yours. Where I go and what I do is my concern.”

  “I beg to differ,” he said, his voice hardening. “You are a young lady of fashion and fortune, and one I know well.”

  “My footman has just this moment gone on a call of nature.” Or had it been more than a moment ago? With her concentration on her work, Delphi had barely noticed him leaving, and assumed he’d returned. “He will be back any minute.”

  If only Kilsyth would leave, she could gather her things and slink back to the house. And find out what he was doing in Rome, since he didn’t seem inclined to tell her himself.

  Although the notion of walking from the column all the way to the Spanish Steps daunted her somewhat, she would do it. She had little option, since she had no money for a chair, and asking Kilsyth to accompany her would choke her.

  “Anything you say is irrelevant,” she said, turning away as if indifferent to him. “After what you have just done, I can hardly regard you as the arbiter of gentlemanly conduct.”

  His laughter infuriated her. She would leave with as much dignity as she could, so she bent once more to retrieve her drawing and notes. She couldn’t leave without those.

  She shot him a cold stare. “I bid you a good day, sir,” she said as frostily as she could manage as she scrambled to collect her work.

  He gazed around with exaggerated deliberation, scanning the few people who had stopped to stare. Most likely at him. That costume was startling for this hour of the morning. “I see no sign of your mythical footman.”

  “Indeed, he is not mythical. Please do me the honor of going away.”

  Aware of her disorderly appearance, and that she was in the wrong, Delphi couldn’t think straight, didn’t want to look at him.

  Her skirts disordered the papers every time she moved, and the more she tried to gather them, the more they escaped her grasp. Her agitation didn’t help her dexterity, either.

  “Stand up,” he snapped. “Let me do it.”

  Stiffly, she rose to her feet. She couldn’t stay here all day disordering her work while he watched her. She might as well allow him to help her.

  As Delphi smoothed her skirts, the duke knelt at her feet and gathered her papers a lot more efficiently than she’d managed. He took rather longer than she liked, and paid attention to what he was picking up.

  Eventually, he stood, but he didn’t give her the work back. He leafed through the sheets, examining her sketches and transcripts. “I thought you were engaging in a little light watercolor painting. But you’re not, are you?”

  “No, I’m not.” Delphi kept her studies private. So humiliating that he should discover what she was doing. Society had labeled her a bluestocking until she’d learned not to talk about her passion. But with this man, she had let her guard down once before.

  Delphi had sometimes thought wishfully of that night in Greenwich, the first time she had met anybody remotely interested in the history of Rome. Classical studies usually meant the philosophers and the language, the legends rather than the facts.

  And in case she should forget, this man had all but jilted her.

  “Did you think our discussions were because I wished to please you, or that I would drop the occupation the moment I found an opportunity to do so?”

  He bit his lip, shot a glance at her from under the brim of his cocked hat. “Not precisely. Life has been a little—complicated recently.”

  What did he mean? Was that why he was wearing a gaudy court outfit that had seen better days? What had happened to him? “You lost your fortune? You took to the high seas and, as a result, lost your title and lands? You met a woman who drove you demented, so you killed her and had to flee the country?”

  That sharp laugh came to disconcert her. “None of those. I will escort you back to your lodgings. Are you with your family?”

  At last, the papers were tidied and thrust in the leather portfolio. Instead of giving it to her, Kilsyth slung the long strap over his shoulder and offered his other arm for her to take. If she rejected him, she’d appear childish.

  Delphi had no option but to accept. “I’m with Matilda.”

  “Then I will take you to her. Which way?” he demanded.

  “Not far. Truly I can get there on my own.” She didn’t want his company.

  He shook his head. “Not good enough, Lady Delphi. I’m delivering you into the hands of your hosts. No prevarication.”

  His determined jaw told her she had no choice. If she didn’t allow him to accompany her, he’d follow her home to ensure her safety. One part of her, the part that anticipated the walk ahead with trepidation, was glad, but she’d never admit to that.

  Delphi started to walk away from the river, in the direction of her new home. “The truth is, Matilda doesn’t know I’m here on my own. And I was not, I did bring a footman. But he’s disappeared.”

  When she sneaked a glance at him, she found his mouth tight and hard. “Disappeared?”

  She shrugged. “Probably pleasuring some girl somewhere. He’s a local man, not one of the servants we brought from England.”

  He grunted. “Or rousing his fellows to do what I did, but with a more nefarious intent. You are too trusting, Delphi.”

  “Me? And what happened to my title?”

  He spoke more smoothly. “If you wish it, we can ‘Lady Delphi’ and ‘your grace’ ourselves into oblivion. But I would prefer to dispense with titles, as we did once before. My name is Adam. You know that. I would be honored if you use it, at least when we’re in private.”

  “Oh!” She could stiffly insist on formality, but that would be stupid. His unseemly request appealed to her at a basic level. She hated being reminded of the title she was not born with every time the person she was speaking to opened his mouth.

  “Very well,” she said, and added his name for good measure. “Adam.”

  Was he still attracted to her? Did he think they could take up where they’d left off? Well, she’d soon show him that was a fool’s errand.

  “There, I knew you could do it. Now, tell me what you were doing there.”

  “At the column?” she said easily. “Transcribing it and making a copy.”

  He frowned. “Plenty of copies exist.”

  She sighed. “I’m planning a monograph, perhaps even a book on Trajan and his conquests.”

  Eager to put space and time between them and the far-too intimate embrace she’d shared with him, she outlined her thoughts. Passing the time by discussing a subject not intimately connected to them seemed preferable to more personal conversation. “Unfortunately, the column is far too high for me to see it all and, pretty soon, I will have exhausted what I can see from the ground. Most of it is worn by weather and time, so I wouldn’t be able to read it, even if I could get up close. But
I’ve enjoyed the exercise.”

  She would not forget what he’d done. Adam had caused her a great deal of grief when he’d abandoned her in London. Society had laughed at her, but worse, her family had commiserated with her. Poor Delphi. The thought of another London season appalled her. So when Matilda had asked Delphi to accompany her and her new husband on their visit to Rome, she’d accepted eagerly.

  She would make Adam pay. Why not turn the tables and do to him what he’d done to her? Enough British people were in Rome to witness her tit-for-tat and, this time Delphi intended to come out on top.

  First, she’d have to hook him in. Make him court her all over again, as he had last season in London. Then she’d laugh in his face, and tell him what she thought of him. Oh, that felt so good. At last. And being in Italy, she was in the perfect place for revenge. Nobody did revenge better than the Italians.

  She guided him around a corner, into one of the narrow streets that abounded here. Rome had that in common with London, where a person had to know her way through the maze. The buildings were even more diverse than her home city. And more run-down.

  The Great Fire of London had cleared out some of the more rickety buildings, which had been rebuilt in brick and stone. Not so here. Some buildings would have tumbled to the ground if not for the added lengths of timber holding them up. They acted like flying buttresses for domestic architecture, but less beautiful and more intrusive. They did collapse every day, and a person had to have her wits about her in order to survive.

  Wits which she had completely lost back at the site of Trajan’s Column.

  “I had not expected to find you in Rome, my lady. Most English people do not survive the heat of summer.”

  He was so smooth, so—civilized, for want of a better word. “We arrived in the spring, but we spent the summer elsewhere.”

  “Matilda married Trensom, didn’t she? I had a letter from my mother telling me so. I was not aware they had even met.”

  Because they had not met until Christmas. Matilda and Harry were so deeply in love that nobody seeing them could doubt it. Sometimes, Delphi found somewhere to go just to get away from the romance. Romance was not her friend these days.