* * *
“How was your day, wife?” Richard asked as he climbed into bed beside her.
They hadn’t seen each other all day, and he’d missed her terribly.
He had his own business to deal with, and she had hers. For the last few days, it seemed like they only saw each other before bed and the first thing in the morning. And these were the favorite parts of his day.
Jo instantly scooted toward him and burrowed into his arms. Richard buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her lovely scent.
“I have found new partners for my theater and all related ventures,” his wife said proudly.
“Truly?” Richard tightened his arms around her, his fingers playing with her belly through the night shift. “Who did you talk into joining you?”
“Your sisters,” Jo answered coquettishly. “And the Duchess of Somerset, and the Countess of Clydesdale.”
Richard let out a bark of laughter. “Quite a scandalous company you have there.”
Jo turned toward him and raised a brow. “I think that’s a perfect name for our acting company.Scandalous.”
Richard laughed again and pressed a kiss to her temple. “What about the theater? Will you keep the name?”
Jo shrugged. “I was thinking of calling it Medusa.”
“Hm. A Greek goddess who turned men into stone?”
“Perhaps,” Jo answered with a smile. “I think she will be a great symbol of the adversity women still face today and the sanctuary we represent.”
Richard kissed her again. “I love it.”
Then his kisses lowered to her cheek, her ear, her neck. He nuzzled her, into the crook of his shoulder, and Jo let out a sigh of relief.
“I missed you so much,” she said softly.
Then she turned slowly in his arms and kissed him on the mouth. Their touches and kisses started getting heated. Her shift slid from her shoulder as Richard’s mouth followed a fiery path down her throat. Jo whimpered, holding his head close to her chest—
Loud, rushed steps sounded in the corridor before a frantic knock sent the door rattling. Jo jumped and looked at Richard, startled.
Richard cursed as he raised his head. “Who the devil is that?” he ground out, before scrambling off the bed and stalking furiously to the door. “What?” he barked as he violently tore the door open.
Marcus, the footman he’d assigned to watch after his former fiancée, Miss Fowley, stood before him, drenched in rainwater and breathing heavily as if he ran for miles. “You said to come to you posthaste if I witnessed something untoward going on or if Miss Fowley seemed in danger.”
“Yes?” Richard’s frown turned into a scowl, his heart beating loudly in his chest in anticipation of terrible news.
“Well, I just watched her sneak into a place where I could not follow.” The footman shuffled from foot to foot, wringing the hat in his hands. “So I came here as soon as I could. But she… She went into the Hades Hell masquerade.”
“Blast!” Richard cursed in every way he knew how.
The Hades masquerade was the most scandalous masquerade in London. Probably in all of England. Richard had forgotten it was tonight. It was held once every two years, filled with the most debauched things people could have imagined. Usually, it would be a place he would most definitely visit. Today, however, he would rather spend the night in the arms of his wife.
“What happened?” Jo asked from behind him.
Richard turned, his nostrils flaring. “It seems like my former fiancée—that levelheaded, shy miss—is intent on getting herself ruined.”