Rowena stepped back in horror. She had allowed her mind to wander, and now it seemed that Mr. Grantly had been declaring his affection for her. This was absolutely the last thing that she wanted.
"Mr. Grantly, please control yourself. This is most uncomfortable. I am a married woman." She snatched her hand out of his grasp.
"You are married to Brayleigh, who obviously has no affection for you. How else could he spend so much time with Mrs. Peckham? The man is a fool. If I had you, I would never let you out of my sight."
"I don’t remember your feelings being so strong for me a month ago," observed Rowena tartly. "It would seem that my marriage has intensified them."
"You drive me wild," declared Hugh passionately. "I must have you, Rowena. You are far too good for him."
"But not too good for you? I see." Rowena backed away from him. "I think you should go, Mr. Grantly."
"I will not be denied," said Hugh thickly. He stepped forward and tried to take Rowena into his arms. "I could make you happy, Rowena."
Rowena wriggled out of his grasp. "Please, Mr. Grantly. You are making a spectacle of yourself. I have no intention of betraying my husband."
"Why? He is cheating on you," said Hugh bluntly. "Everyone knows about Mrs. Peckham."
Rowena’s heart gave a lurch. "Please do not speak of my husband in that manner," she said coldly.
"Why not? He is unworthy of you. He prefers the over-ripe charms of Mrs. Peckham, but you are all I desire. I will make you happy, Rowena."
"No, thank you." Rowena sidestepped Hugh as he reached for her again. "This is growing ridiculous. Please leave me alone."
The curtain onto the balcony was moved aside by a large hand, and Rowena looked up to see Alaric standing in the doorway, his face as dark as a thundercloud. She felt a moment of pure joy when she saw him, and then her heart sank. He looked furious.
"May I ask why you left the ballroom, Rowena?" Alaric’s voice was calm, but Rowena could hear the undercurrent of anger running through it.
Rowena felt a moment of panic, but then her natural anger rose. He had ignored her except in the bedroom for over a week now, and he had been flirting outrageously with Mrs. Peckham. And yet he somehow felt that he should be able to control her actions? It was ridiculous and insulting. She straightened her shoulders and directed a dazzling smile at Mr. Grantly.
"I had a slight headache, and Mr. Grantly was kind enough to take pity on me and escort me here to get some fresh air. Was that not kind of him, Alaric?"
Alaric’s icy green eyes fixed on Hugh, who swallowed at the patent threat in his gaze.
"Thank you, Mr. Grantly. I believe my wife can dispense with your services now."
Mr. Grantly shifted uneasily and began to back towards the door. Rowena gave him an exasperated look.
"There is no reason to leave simply because my husband suddenly chooses to act unreasonably, Mr. Grantly. Please remain and keep me company. I was enjoying our conversation."
Hugh licked his lips and looked from Rowena’s face to Alaric’s. Rowena’s eyes were sparkling with anger and challenge, while her husband simply looked ready to commit murder. He reflected briefly on the various merits of staying with the lovely Lady Brayleigh versus further angering her obviously enraged husband, who was known to be a dangerous man.
"I...I beg your pardon. I believe I am engaged for the next dance," he stammered, and fled, leaving Rowena face to face with Alaric. Alaric gazed after him with contempt.
"What a stalwart gentleman you found to flirt with, Rowena," he said caustically. "I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important."
"I was not flirting," said Rowena angrily. "You know quite well that I was not. If you had been standing outside that door very long you are perfectly aware of the circumstances."
"It was highly inappropriate of you to go out onto the balcony with him," continued Alaric as though he had not heard her. "I believe I told you that I insist on proper behavior from you."
"Proper behavior?" Rowena’s voice rose precipitously. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with my behavior. I felt unwell and needed some air. Mr. Grantly escorted me to this balcony, which is in clear view of the ballroom."
"Nonetheless, it was indiscreet. I will not have you giving rise to rumors with your impetuous behavior."
"If anyone’s behavior is gossiped about tonight, it will be yours," Rowena snapped out. "You practically allowed yourself to be seduced in the middle of the ballroom by Mrs. Peckham. Your behavior was disgusting. I am sure that everyone will be taking careful note of it."
Alaric folded his arms over his chest. "You must realize by now, Rowena, that a woman’s behavior is judged much more harshly than a man’s. I may conduct myself as I please, while you are not free to do so."
"Until I give you a son, you mean. After that, I suppose you will allow me to carry on with as many men as I please. Perhaps I will rival Mrs. Peckham in the number of lovers I take!"
Alaric shrugged. "I would never allow my wife to behave in such a manner. Mrs. Peckham is amusing, of course, but I expect higher standards from my wife."
Rowena felt like screaming. Alaric’s calmness was infuriating, and the superior look he bent on her made her itch to slap him.
"I don’t care what you expect, Alaric," she said sharply. "I cannot live up to the standards you set because they are unrealistic. You have a totally false vision of me. I have told you the truth again and again, and you refuse to believe me. Why should I obey your ridiculous rules now?"
"And why should I believe your protestations of innocence? You have told me far too many lies for me to believe you."
Alaric’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at her. She was too lovely, he thought angrily. He shouldn’t care who she strolled the balcony with, but he did, and desperately. The thought of another man touching her made him want to kill. It had taken all of his control not to smash Grantly’s frightened face with his fist.
"I was wrong to lie to you, I have admitted that. I only wanted to wait until all was well with Malcolm. Surely you must understand that, Alaric."
"I understand that you place your brother before your husband, and that you always have."
Rowena stamped her foot. "You are unbearably stubborn. I cannot tolerate this for another moment. You will obviously believe as you choose, but you have no right to dictate my actions to me. If I want to stand on the balcony with Mr. Grantly, I shall."
Alaric took a step closer and stood staring down at her. His eyes were very cold. "You will do no such thing. If you attempt it, Rowena, you will not like what happens."
"As though it matters," cried Rowena. "As though watching you flirt with Mrs. Peckham while you treat me so unkindly is not enough punishment. Do you think I enjoy watching you, Alaric?"
"I think that you married me solely in an attempt to gain revenge for your brother. I cannot imagine why my talking to other women might upset you."
Rowena bit her lip. This was certainly no time to admit that she loved her husband; he was so angry with her that he would only use the information to hurt her.
"It is unkind of you to hold me up to ridicule," she said. "You use me as you would a mistress; I see nothing of you unless you wish to make love to me. Am I nothing more to you than that?"
Alaric stiffened. "I treat you as I would a mistress?" he repeated. He glared at her. "You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rowena. The world of those women is something you could never imagine."
"It must certainly be preferable to the way you treat me," Rowena retorted. "At least you show them some kindness from time to time, I imagine. I have had nothing from you but coldness this past week."
"And you believe you deserve more?" asked Alaric, his voice filled with contempt.
"I am your wife, not your mistress. You should treat me decently, and trust me. I meant only to be helpful, Alaric. You cannot truly think I wanted to harm you."
"Yes, you are my wife." Alaric looked at her thoughtfully. "And I treat you very well, Rowena. Y
ou have anything you might ask for, and are respected because of who you are. You have nothing in common with my mistresses."
"I would rather be your mistress," said Rowena angrily. "At least then when you came to me at night you might pay some attention to me."
Alaric gave a short laugh and seized her arm. "Come with me, Rowena."
She pulled back, unwilling to accompany him. "I wish to remain here."
"You will come with me now, Rowena, and quietly, or I will pick you up and carry you. Do you understand?"
Rowena looked up into his implacable face and saw that he meant what he had said. Alaric was stubborn enough to carry her, protesting, through a ballroom. He wouldn’t care in the least what anyone said about it.
"Very well," she said with ill grace.
Alaric hurried her back into the ballroom and out of the building, without even pausing to say good night to their hostess. Rowena glared at him as he thrust her into their carriage.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Home." Alaric folded his arms across his chest and gazed at her. It was obvious that he had no intention of explaining anything to her. Rowena shrugged and looked out the windows, ignoring him as much as she could.
Chapter 31
When they reached their house Alaric assisted her out of the carriage and into the front hall. He looked at Ferguson, who was standing nearby.
"Is the supper ready?" he asked.
"Of course, sir," he answered. "It is awaiting you in the upstairs sitting room."
Alaric nodded. "I took the liberty of asking Cook to prepare a small supper for us to enjoy after the ball. Come along."
He seized Rowena’s elbow and hurried her up the stairs to the sitting room. Rowena looked around, momentarily charmed. A fire was lit in the grate and candles burned brightly in the wall sconces, illuminating the charmingly furnished room. A table sat near the fire, covered with brilliant white linens and sparkling silver and crystal, and an elegant dinner was spread out and waiting for them. She drew in a tiny breath of surprise.
"Alaric, why did you do this? I thought..."
Alaric frowned at her. "I meant to discuss with you calmly exactly how we would conduct our marriage. Believe it or not, I am unhappy as you are with the situation we find ourselves in, and wished to come to some sort of an understanding in which we could at least live with one another comfortably. But then tonight I find out that you think I have been treating you as I would a mistress. You have a great deal to learn, Rowena."
"I don’t see why," said Rowena. "You use your mistresses for your pleasure, and that is how you have been using me. Can you deny it?"
Alaric grimaced. He felt his body tightening with desire. Try as he might, and despite the obvious availability of Mrs. Peckham, it was only Rowena he wanted. He hated the thought that she still had this power over him, despite her duplicity and the way in which she had treated him. It was as though he had no control over his own desires, he thought resentfully.
"Perhaps you would like to know how I might treat a woman I had bought and paid for," murmured Alaric. He took a few quick steps towards Rowena and seized her shoulders, his fingers biting into her flesh. She made a noise of protest and tried to pull away, but he shook his head.
"No, you must stay here. I own you, you see. You must make me happy and do anything I ask, or I will throw you out. Your entire existence depends on making me happy."
"This is not amusing, Alaric," said Rowena. "Let me go."
"No, my intention is not to amuse. Tonight you will learn a lesson."
Alaric lowered his head until his lips touched Rowena’s, demanding and receiving a response. He probed her mouth, his tongue clashing with hers, until she moaned and leaned against him, feeling almost unable to stand up. She gazed up at him with her great violet eyes, and he smiled gently.
"That's better," he murmured. "That is how I like to see you."
Rowena attempted to pull away, but she could barely move for the powerful sensations that shot through her body. It appalled her that Alaric brought her to this state, but it thrilled her as well. She longed to feel his hands on her body, urging her onward until he filled her to the core with his manhood. She shivered.
"Take off your clothes," ordered Alaric, releasing her. His tone was quiet but demanding.
Rowena looked surprised, but decided that his tone and attitude tonight brooked no defiance. She stepped back and raised her hands obediently to the fastenings of her dress. She had expected Alaric to help her, but he merely stood back from her, a glass of wine cradled in one hand, a detached look on his face. He sat down on one corner of the desk and nodded when she gave him a questioning glance.
"Go on," he said.
Her hands shaking a little, Rowena fumbled with her dress until she had undone the hooks. She eased it down over her shoulders and then her chest, baring her breasts to his view. The room had a slight chill so far from the fire, and her nipples sprang immediately to life, crowning her high, smooth breasts like ripe berries. She continued to lower the dress until it pooled at her feet, a puddle of turquoise silk and lace. She stood before Alaric in only her petticoat. She suddenly was tremendously aware of her nakedness and his eyes on her flesh.
"You haven't finished. I believe I made my instructions clear," said Alaric.
Rowena shot him another nervous glance. He had seen her undressed many times before, and stroked every inch of her body, but this, somehow, was different. There was a remote look in his green eyes as he gazed at her, as though he was assessing her merits and her liabilities.
"Alaric, what are you doing?" she asked in a small voice.
"That is none of your business," he said. "Continue."
Drawn on by his tone, she raised her hands to her petticoat and slipped it down over her thighs. She peeped up at Alaric through her golden lashes, expecting to see a flash of fire in his eyes. He could never look at her naked figure without his desire becoming immediately apparent. But Alaric displayed only mild interest, a look of gentle inquiry on his face. She stepped away from the petticoat and dress and stood before him, feeling somehow strange and uncomfortable.
"The garters and stocking as well," said Alaric. "Really, you are remarkably slow tonight."
Rowena stepped out of her satin slippers and seated herself on the edge of a chair. She delicately rolled down her stockings, depositing them on top of her petticoat. The satin covering of the chair felt strange on her naked buttocks and she squirmed for a moment.
"Stand up," said Alaric.
She obeyed him and he looked at her closely, his eyes roaming up and down her naked figure. "Quite lovely," he murmured. With a nod of approval, he began to walk around her.
"Alaric--" began Rowena, turning with him.
"Stand still," interrupted Alaric. "And be quiet."
Rowena did as she was ordered, feeling slightly frightened. She couldn't imagine Alaric would hurt her, but this was a side of him she had not encountered before. She could feel his dispassionate gaze on her naked skin. Alaric came back around into her view and took a sip of wine.
"Quite lovely," he repeated. He stepped very close to her and placed one finger idly on the erect peak of her breast. He traced a tiny circle around it and Rowena quivered in pleasure. She leaned towards him, but he stepped away again, picking up the second glass of wine from the desk. He placed it in her hand.
"Shall we eat?" he asked politely.
Rowena gaped at him, her beautiful face stunned. "Alaric, what are you doing? Surely you do not mean that I should eat naked?"
"I believe I told you to be silent," said Alaric conversationally. "You may say yes or no, of course, if I ask you a question. And I believe you should address me as 'my lord.'"
Rowena reacted as though stung. A mutinous look came over her face. "Yes, my lord," she said sharply.
Alaric did not smile. "Much better," he said. "And now, I believe we shall eat."
He strolled to the table set out before the fire and g
ently held out a chair for Rowena. Not knowing what else to do, she walked over to it and seated herself. This chair had delicate woolen cross stitching covering its seat, and the sensation was distinctly unusual on her bottom and thighs. She moved uneasily.
Alaric seated himself across from her and smiled benignly. "You look delightful, my dear."
Rowena lifted her chin and gave him a stony look. She felt extremely odd sitting completely naked across from her fully dressed husband, and she felt the sudden urge to attempt to cover herself. She reached for her napkin.
"No napkin, my dear. You will simply have to eat neatly," said Alaric, his long white fingers whisking the square of cloth away before she could reach it. "And I believe you need to improve your posture. Put your shoulders back."
He watched with a quiet smile as she gave him a fiery look but obeyed. Her breasts rose up on her ribcage, the nipples still high and peaked. "And part your thighs," he added.
Rowena choked. "I beg your pardon?" she stammered.
"Part your thighs," repeated Alaric patiently. He reached around the small table with one arm and gently moved her knees several inches apart. His eyes ran over her. "Just so," he said.
There was a moment’s silence as Rowena struggled not to let her emotions show on her face. Despite her shock at Alaric's behavior, she knew she was becoming incredibly aroused. The feeling of the stitchery on her bare skin and the odd sensation of being regarded so dispassionately as she sat naked in front of a man combined to quicken her breath. She hoped that Alaric would not make this last much longer.
"A slice of chicken?" asked Alaric, carving the bird with the long knife provided. He raised an inquiring eyebrow when Rowena did not respond.
She started slightly. Did he truly expect her to eat at a moment like this? "Yes, please," she answered, and he put a thin slice on her plate.
"I believe Cook has provided us with some of her delightful berry tarts," continued Alaric. "You always enjoy those." He placed one on her plate.
"Yes, my lord," she murmured.
Alaric smiled and served himself, all the while watching her with a gentle smile on his lips. He cut a bite of chicken from his serving and raised it to his lips.
A Collector's Item: Rowena's After Dark Regency Romance (The Arlingbys Book 1) Page 28