Geoffrey braced his hands on the floor at his sides and pushed, raising his torso off the ground in a swift move that brought him to a semiseated position, one that left Liliana still straddling him.
Her eyes widened as his sudden shift rocked her position, sending her back against his thighs, which he’d brought up to support her, yet also to trap her.
Was she truly sorry she’d given herself to him? Anger battled with tenderness and an annoying insecurity. He’d never bedded a virgin before, and particularly not one with a curious mind like Liliana’s. Perhaps he had not lived up to her expectations. A huff escaped him, remembering the blissful wonder on Liliana’s face when she’d found her release. He knew, at least in that, she had been well pleased.
Then what was this about? What was currently swirling around in her head? Guilt? Confusion? Fear? Whatever it was, it was contrary to what she should be feeling at this moment, and by God, he would not let her waste one more second on regret.
He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes so as to convey his absolute conviction in what he was about to say. “You are going to be my wife, Liliana. There is nothing more right than making love with your husband.” At the shake of her head, he said, “Certainly, there are those who say we should have waited until after the vows were spoken.” Geoffrey softened his voice, bringing his arms around so that he could take both of Liliana’s hands. “But in my heart, we were married the moment you agreed to be mine.”
Her full bottom lip trembled.
“You have nothing to apologize for, nor anything to fear.”
She dropped her head onto his chest, wracked with sobs that were now silent. Bewilderment and fear settled in Geoffrey’s chest. There was something else the matter here, and he hadn’t a clue what it could be. All he could do was hold her until she was ready to explain.
At long last, she leaned away and raised her face to him, but what he saw twisted something within Geoffrey. Liliana’s face had smoothed, and though she still trembled, she also looked strangely resigned. What had she gotten into her head? He tried to pull her back, but Liliana scooted away, the harsh rustling of fabric sounding as she rose from the floor to stand above him. She turned and walked over to the table near the still open passageway.
Geoffrey rose and adjusted his clothing, trying to remain calm. Yet the silence that descended upon the room took on an eerie, still quality that he recognized immediately. It was the calm before the storm, the reflective quiet he had experienced many times before a battle as he waited for the enemy to strike.
The familiar surge of adrenaline heightened his senses, and at the same time, tiny prickles needled the back of his neck, a sensation he’d only ever felt in times of danger. Geoffrey frowned, knowing the feeling to be completely out of place. He swallowed and rolled his neck to dispel the irritating reaction and made to follow Liliana.
She turned just before he reached her, that box she’d brought held tightly in both hands.
“I think it’s time you open this,” she said. The solemness of her tone combined with her tear-ravaged face brought a sick feeling to his stomach.
Geoffrey stared at the nondescript box and immediately backed away. He couldn’t explain why. He only knew that if he never saw what it contained, he would be a happier man for it.
But Liliana persisted, pushing it into his hands until he had no choice but to take it. The hard lines of the wood scratched his fingers as a splinter pierced his skin.
Geoffrey moved to the chaise and sat, ignoring the sting of pain, the drip of blood that smeared the surface. He removed the lid and placed it on the seat beside him before peering inside the box.
Three bundles of letters wrapped in aged ribbon lay on the bottom, along with some miscellaneous papers. Geoffrey glanced up at Liliana, who stood before him, perhaps four feet away. She looked as if she weren’t breathing. Tension marred every part of her being, and the edge of her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “What is this?” he asked.
“Proof that your father was responsible for the death of mine.”
“What?”
She’d said the words so unemotionally, so matter-of-factly, so soberly, that for a moment Geoffrey didn’t grasp them. Yet the breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry as his body comprehended her meaning, even if his mind was slow to follow.
Liliana clasped her hands together in front of her, as if in prayer or perhaps supplication. But Geoffrey could see the strain in her forearms. “I told you my father was murdered.”
“Yes, by street thugs,” he said.
Liliana dipped her head. “That was the official ruling. What I failed to tell you is that he’d received a letter in the days before his death. A letter that lured him to the place where he was attacked.”
Geoffrey’s eyes darted back to the box, drawn to a faded scrap of vellum, marked with a broken seal…a familiar seal.
“A letter written by your father,” Liliana finished, saying the words he’d known would come next.
Shock, like a swift kick, exploded through him and radiated to his temples. Anger followed quickly. “My father would never do such a thing,” he growled, and yet he reached into the box and snatched up the missive. He easily recognized his father’s scrawl.
We have been compromised. Meet me two days hence. Same time and location.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded, not looking up, his mind awhirl. And how long had she had it?
He heard Liliana draw a breath, as if she were having as much difficulty with that simple body process as he. “In my father’s library, in a secret cache hidden behind his bookshelves.”
He jerked his head up, pinning her with his gaze. That meant she’d brought the note with her and had had it the entire time she’d been at Somerton Park. An image of her falling into his arms that very first night in the library flashed before him. She’d been…what? Dressed all in dark clothes, he remembered. Searching? An ache formed in his chest, but he willed it away. First, he needed to figure out exactly what Liliana was saying.
“What else was in the cache?”
She nodded her head toward the box on his lap. “Two of those three bundles of letters.”
Geoffrey picked up the packets, setting the box aside. His movements were slow and sure, and part of him recognized that the soldier in him had taken over, had shut down emotion. The paper felt brittle beneath his fingers as he raised the first bundle. The words were in French, the handwriting unknown. The second bore the script of his father. Geoffrey closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe his father would have anything to do with murder, but clearly, a connection to Liliana’s father was certain. And if Liliana was to be believed, her father was murdered shortly after he received this final note.
Bloody hell. Could this be what the blackmailer had alluded to in his threat? Or her threat? He eyed Liliana suspiciously, thinking once again about her behavior the first night she was here. Could she possibly be the one who’d sent the note? No. The idea of her as blackmailer made no sense. Why would she bring the evidence to him if she were the one trying to extort him? But clearly she had knowledge that could harm his family, and if she breathed even a word of it, his political reputation and all that he’d worked for would be in shambles.