Duchess Beware (Secrets & Scandals Book 2)

by Tiffany Green

  “Please,” she whispered when he made no move to rise. “Please leave me.”

  His hand moved under her chin. The contact sent shock waves through her body. He turned her to face him and she had to lift her gaze. His eyes glittered, reflecting the moonlight from the windows. “God help me, I cannot,” he said, then lowered his lips onto hers.

  He kissed her with tenderness, awaking a strange need within her and eclipsing all good sense. Her body, cold and hollow a moment ago, flooded with warmth at his touch. And she felt so safe, not like…

  Her dream rushed into her mind. Daniel would marry another, and she must not forget that. Nor must she forget he wanted Fiona. Obviously, he would do anything—try anything—to get that horse.

  Silver jerked back. “No, this is wrong,” she insisted with an emphatic shake to her head, even though it felt anything but wrong. “I want you to leave.”

  Watching the effect her words had on him, she wished she could take them back. He blinked, clearing away every trace of emotion from his face, then stood. A cold detachment settled into his eyes as he gazed down at her. “You are right. I shall leave.”

  She watched him shuffle from her bedchamber holding his ribs, terrifyingly certain of what he really meant.

  ****

  The hunter. That’s what he’d become. Having to hunt for the right girl to fulfill what had to be done. He was getting close. So close. He’d even found her. The right one. His hand balled into a fist. If only the bitch hadn’t scampered off to Scotland! The door opened, and he took a deep breath to calm his boiling rage. Soon. Soon he would get his revenge.

  He settled back against the pillows and watched the girl remove her clothes. Tongues of red-gold firelight danced up and down her naked body. A nervous smile peeked through trembling lips, and her eyes—brown instead of blue—filled with uncertainty. “Do ye like me ‘air, yer worship?” She lifted one of the wavy red tresses that rested against her small pale breast. She sashayed forward, coming to a halt a few feet from the bed where he lay disrobed. “I dyed it jes as ye wanted,” she continued, pulling at the ruby lock anxiously.

  He cocked his head to the side. Very near the correct shade. Good. He lowered his gaze down her skeletal body. He could have counted her ribs, she was so thin. Then something caught his attention, something not at all to his liking, and rage erupted so swiftly, it nearly took his breath. “What is that?” He pointed to the honey-colored thatch between her legs.

  Her eyes widened, and she scrambled back a step. “Mrs. Drabble said the dye’d burn somethin’ fierce there,” she whimpered, covering herself with a hand.

  The girl looked ready to dash away. Tamping back the rage, he forced his features to relax. He even smiled. She may not be exactly what he wished, but he could wait no longer. His loins were heavy. Too heavy. She would give him what he needed this night. She would do. “Come here.”

  Indecision flickered in her eyes, and he swallowed back a sigh. He reached to the clothing folded neatly on the chair beside him, the urge to remove the knife from his coat pocket nearly unbearable. Not yet. Fran hadn’t returned. No, no, not Fran anymore. She had changed her name. Damn her. He gritted his teeth and retrieved a coin instead. Slowly, he turned to the other side of the bed and laid the polished piece of gold on the bureau just at the right angle to catch the lamp light.

  The girl’s eyes widened and greed quickly replaced her hesitation.

  As soon as she straddled him, her body melting around him, he hissed through his teeth in satisfaction. Yes, she would do.

  For now. Until that red-haired bitch returned from Scotland.

  Chapter Six

  Daniel rode Silver’s beautiful white mare, Fiona. Morgan rode beside him. His ribs still ached like the devil, but he could ride longer each day. He’d be able to return to England soon. The thought of having to say good-bye to Silver gave his heart a painful stitch. Why the deuce did she have such an effect on him? Being around her made him want to stay around her. He didn’t want to think of his responsibilities back home, his family, his horses. She near consumed him. Hell, he even daydreamed about her. Thoughts so damned erotic, his loins ached continually.

  But she had told him to leave her alone. On the night he woke her from the dream, she had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing more to do with him. So, for the last two weeks, he had done exactly that, hoping the strong attraction he felt for her would diminish.

  It hadn’t.

  Just what was he supposed to do now? Daniel shook his head. He had no idea. None. Had he lost his touch with all women? First, Megan rejected him and now Silver…

  Maneuvering Fiona around a hole in the road, he gripped the reins tighter in his hands. Perhaps leaving Scotland would be for the best. After returning home to his endless responsibilities, thoughts of Silver should ebb and eventually leave him all together. He would no longer be haunted by her blue eyes or the tangy-sweet way her lips tasted. He hoped so.

  Fiona threw her ears back and sidestepped, gaining his attention. Perhaps he’d managed to agitate another female? Taking a slow, deep breath, Daniel calmed the mare with gentle strokes on her neck and tried to shift his attention elsewhere. He glanced about and noticed with a bit of surprise just how many white coats dotted the area. Sheep were supposed to be destructive, yet he saw no evidence to suggest it. The grass, lush and green, appeared unharmed. He turned to Morgan and asked him.

  The large man scowled. “The MacLaren are no’ like the MacDonnell, man. Tae many sheep can be damagin’, aye, but the MacLaren dinna let tha’ happen. An’ the MacLaren dinna order their tenants tae leave their homes tae make room for the woolies, either.”

  Morgan’s anger surprised him until the man explained more. The MacDonnell’s had thrown the peasants from their land to make room for more sheep. And because of their greed, many people were suffering, even dying.

  His esteem for the MacLaren’s rose, and he suddenly became aware of how protective they were of their own. But that thought made him frown. He turned to Morgan, and the question leaped out before he thought better of it. “Why did you allow Silver to live with her aunt and uncle in England after her mother died?”

  Morgan’s brows shot up, then shook his head. “Tha’ was Da’s doin’.” He sighed. “When Gracie died, Silver retreated from the world,” he continued softly. “The lassie dinna eat, she dinna sleep, she dinna even talk. She just stayed in her room and stared at the walls. Da thought she would dae better in England, away from where her mama died.”

  Daniel recalled Silver’s pale face and the scared look in her eyes when they first arrived. “I imagine it was hard for her to return,” he said softly, glancing at the stone manor in the distance.

  “Aye. But I dinna ken why she came.”

  He turned sharply, startled by the concern in Morgan’s tone. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Silver began pennin’ us letters a few years ago. We always wrote back, always askin’ if she’d come an’ visit. She always refused. An’ now the lass is here.”

  “She didn’t come for your father’s funeral last year?” Daniel asked, growing even more confused. Something just didn’t make sense.

  Morgan shook his head. “Pennington responded tae our letter saying Silver was unwell and needed tae stay in bed an’ heal. It was just as well,” he said, the sadness deepening within his eyes. Then he glanced up the road and smiled. “But she’s here now.”

  Daniel followed the direction of Morgan’s gaze, and the muscles in his stomach clenched. Silver sat on a tuft of green grass under a tree by the road, holding a small lamb in her lap. Hardly noticing Duncan and Jamie near, he centered his attention solely on the hand stroking the animal’s curly, white coat. He swallowed, envisioning that same hand stroking his body and averted his gaze.

  God’s teeth, why did he have to see that? “Thank you, Morgan, for the tour,” he said a bit more abruptly than he had intended. But he needed to get away. Fast. “Now if you will excuse me, I must ge
t Fiona back. She seems anxious to return.” Daniel prodded the horse forward, moving quickly beyond Silver and her brothers with just a nod.

  ****

  Two days after Daniel had raced by her as though he could not wait to get away, Silver sat within the cool obscurity of the gazebo, drinking in the garden’s beauty. This had been the first time since her arrival she could push past her grief enough to visit the lovely area. Just as she remembered, varying sizes and colors of roses surrounded her, creating a fragrant multihued cocoon. The entrance, the only gap in the lush bushes that wove around the structure’s wooden beams, kept the interior from complete darkness. Many years ago, she believed the garden magical and housed every fairy in Scotland.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet perfume hanging heavily in the air, her heart tearing into a hundred pieces. She remembered everything. Helping her mother tend the flowers, working side by side in the garden, chatting about nothing and everything. Like the best of friends, they laughed and told secrets. They amused themselves with fantastic stories or off-tune songs. But always, they shared something wonderful.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and clogged her throat. Sliver willed them to fall. That was the only way she would ever heal. The only way she would be able to say good-bye to her mother. Tears cleansed the soul. But the tears would not come. Even now they would not come.

  She slumped forward, exhausted. Would she ever get past her mother’s death? Her father’s abandonment? Her guardians’ hatred? Her brothers’ ignorance of what was happening to her? From what she could tell, her brothers knew nothing of the way Edward and Caroline treated her. And she could never tell them. Her brothers would rush the gates of Pennington Manor to exact vengeance, but Edward would send for his good friend, the magistrate. Her brothers could be jailed. Or worse.

  Suddenly chilled to the bone, Silver shivered and wrapped her shawl more securely around her shoulders. No, she couldn’t tell her brothers about living in hell. And she still hadn’t told them about Victor Merrick. She groaned. How was she going to tell them about that? Time was running short.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened on the seat. She would just have to figure out a way to tell them when they returned in two days from selling their wool at market.

  The crunch of footsteps brought her from her thoughts. Silver opened her eyes and found a perfect, long-stemmed rose of the sunniest yellow offered to her. Her heart leaped when she noticed the blunt-ended fingers of a man’s hand holding the stem. Her eyes slowly lifted. Garrett’s face smiled down at her, not Daniel’s as she had hoped, and her heart sank. She wasn’t surprised, though. The duke hadn’t spoken one word to her in two weeks. Not since he’d come into her room after that awful dream.

  Chiding herself for being disappointed, Silver forced a smile and accepted the lovely token. “Thank you, kind sir.” She inhaled the sweetness and tried hard not to think of her mother.

  “You’re quite welcome, m’lady.” He glanced around. “I have visited this lovely garden every day since our arrival.” He turned back to her, his eyes curious. “But this is the first time I’ve noticed you here.”

  Her mother’s smiling face filled her mind, making her chest ache. “I hadn’t the courage to visit my mother’s garden since her death,” Silver said, her words a low whisper. “Until now.”

  His face crumpled in penitence as he took the seat beside her. “Do forgive me. I did not mean to make you sad.”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid, Garrett, I was already in such a sorry state before your arrival.”

  “Ah, Silver, I’m certain that once you return to England, you will…”

  She stiffened at the reminder of what she faced after leaving Scotland and turned away.

  “Did I say something distasteful?”

  She couldn’t answer. The thought of leaving her brothers and marrying Victor Merrick was more than distasteful—it was repulsive, and it made her nauseous.

  “Silver?”

  “I just remembered something I must do,” she lied and rose to her feet, noticing the evening shadows for the first time. She must have sat in the gazebo most of the day. She rushed away without a backward glance, glad her ankle had recovered well enough to make a quick escape. With a pounding heart, she made her way to her room, grateful for not running into anyone along the way.

  Closing the door behind her, she leaned heavily against the wood, the forgotten rose sliding from her hand. How could she tell her brothers about marrying Victor? She shuddered and pressed her hands against her warm cheeks. They would know her true feelings. She couldn’t even say the words out loud without them sticking in her throat. But she would leave soon. Goodness, what was she to do?

  Someone knocked on the door, making her jump. “Yes? Who’s there?”

  “Yer late for dinner.”

  Mrs. Burns. Silver blew out a breath. “I’m not hungry.”

  “No’ ye tae!”

  Silver frowned. Was Daniel not—no, she wouldn’t finish the thought. “Mrs. Burns, would you do me a favor?”

  A pause. “Aye?”

  She scooped up the tattered rose from the floor, feeling much like the poor thing. “Would it be too much trouble to have a bath?”

  It didn’t take Mrs. Burns long to assemble the tub full of hot water. Although Silver wished the woman would quit clucking her tongue and shaking her head in such a way.

  “Are ye sick, then?” the housekeeper asked.

  Silver lit the lamp beside her bed, immersing the room in a creamy gold hue. “No, Mrs. Burns, I am well.”

  The scowl on the woman’s face deepened. “Ye dinna eat my fine supper, and now ye’re makin’ ready for a bath at this hour?” She paused to shake her head. “Summat be wrong,” she grumbled before pouring the last bucket of heated water into the tub.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Burns.”

  The housekeeper straightened. “Ye ain’t tae touch this tub, lass. I’ll fetch it on the morrow.” She shook her bony finger, then turned around and marched from the room.

  After peeling her clothes away, Silver sank her weary body down into the steamy water, expelling a long groan as the warmth seeped deep into her skin. She rested her head against the edge of the tub and listened to the fire crackle in the grate, hoping some of the placidity dousing her body would remain. The blazing fire kept her from having to rush. What a luxury. Edward allowed her a fire only if snow covered the ground, the old skinflint.

  As sleep threatened, Silver removed the bar of rose soap from the table she had placed nearby and started lathering it within her hands. The sweet fragrance filled the air as she spread the slick foam over her body, bringing thoughts of her absent brother, Connor, who had the scented bars delivered to her for her birthday several months ago. Thankfully Prudence had received the package, else Caroline would have swiped the lovely present for herself.

  She missed Connor terribly, she realized, her hands going still. Duncan had told her that Connor, a ship’s first mate, wouldn’t arrive in Scotland for another three months. By then, she would be back in England.

  And married to Victor Merrick.

  Revulsion sliced through Silver, and she inhaled sharply. But with her serenity gone, the allure of a warm, lingering bath was lost. She fished around for the soap and began scrubbing the rest of her body.

  The door flew open.

  Silver whipped her head around and clamped a hand over her mouth, stemming the scream just in time. Daniel! Was she dreaming? She blinked several times, unable to move or speak. She just sat there like an idiot and stared. Buff-colored unmentionables gloved his legs before disappearing into polished black Hessians. His white shirt gaped open at the collar, exposing a triangle of tanned skin at his throat and a few dark, curly hairs. She swallowed hard, her eyes lifting to his face. The bruising and swelling were gone, the man was once again a paragon of male beauty. Perfect in every way.

  And carried another’s portrait around with him.

  As her fuddled
brain finally decided to work again, Silver watched Daniel glance all about the room as if searching for something. Then he noticed her in the bath and his eyes went wide. The bath! How could she have forgotten! Her cheeks flooded with heat. She covered her breasts with her hands and sank further into the sudsy water, sloshing some over the rim. Oh, rot! “What are you doing here? Get out!” she sputtered.

  Daniel frowned, obviously recovering from seeing her in the tub, and closed the door behind him. “Your aunt insisted I come at once.”

  She shook her head. “I beg your pardon?”

  When he took a step, she slid deeper into the tub. “Stop!” she cried, causing him to jolt to a halt. “Do not come any closer.”

  His green eyes narrowed and he folded his arms over his chest. “A few minutes ago,” he began, making no further move, “Mrs. Burns gave me a note. It was an urgent message from your aunt. It stated you were in trouble and asked that I come without delay.”

  Silver opened her mouth, but before she could reply, she heard it. The low rumble of thunder. A prickle of fear slithered down her back, making her shiver. Perhaps she’d heard wrong…

  The ominous rumble sounded again. She snapped her head around and searched the darkness beyond the window, her fear rising.

  “Silver?”

  Daniel’s voice sounded far away. She ignored him and kept her eyes riveted upon the four glass panes. A flash of light flickered in the distance, making her flinch, and her breath hitched. Those fiery tendrils reached for her, yearning to finish what they had started eight years ago. They always tried. And just as she couldn’t suppress the horror that lightning induced, she couldn’t suppress the memory that explained why…

  The desperate cry of a distressed lamb had taken her too far from the estate that day. After she found the little wooly caught in some brush and had set it free, she noticed the deep gray clouds rolling overhead and how frosty the air felt as it rushed through the trees. The unfamiliar trees. Silver had gotten herself hopelessly lost. She never should have ventured that far into the woods without one of her brothers or her father.