Stepping through the small door, Aria expected to feel some type of flooring beneath her slippers. She did not. Instead, she felt smooth stone, and instead of the tunnel continuing straight ahead as she had also assumed it would, it sloped down a bit, going underground. So Michael had been right. She was not going outside at all, at least if one defined outside as out in the elements. But she was leaving the manor because the house itself did not extend much beyond the wall they had exited through.
The torches that lined the stone hallway were already lit, indicating that someone had been down this way earlier in the morning. That someone was likely Michael.
“Where are we going?” Aria knew she should not be so demanding. Men did not like that. However, she could not help herself. She was curious by nature. Not to mention more than a little cautious just now.
“On an adventure,” Michael replied again as he took her hand once more. “Despite your recovering health, I’ve no wish to keep you confined to the house, Aria. Truly I don’t. You are, I think, a free spirit and unaccustomed to being caged like an exotic animal. You have mentioned before that growing up on a sugar plantation gave you more freedom than most young ladies.”
Michael had the right of things, of course. As he always did, it seemed.
“It did,” she agreed. “I am also occasionally rash and impetuous but neither of those traits have served me particularly well as of late.” Aria was honest enough with herself to know that as well.
Stopping, Michael turned to her. Though his face was partially hidden in shadow, the other part was illuminated by flickering light. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light or perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but Aria could have sworn that she saw something dark and almost feral lurking in his gaze.
“Yes, pet, you are those things, but if you were not?” Michael shrugged. “Then who knows what fate would have befallen you by now at your cousin’s hands, and that is a fate I have no wish to contemplate. Nor do you, I would wager. No, Aria, never regret for a moment who or what you are, for those traits are what brought you to my doorstep, half deceased though you were. And that is something I cannot regret either. Nor will I ever, no matter what.”
Michael all but ground his teeth together when he spoke and there was something almost angry in his tone. Though Aria doubted very much he was angry with her. This was the version of Michael who had gone to war and been forced to lead men when others fell on the battlefield. This was a Michael who was angry and likely the one who was rumored to be able to see into the darkness. The one who fought demons others could not even imagine. Given the fierce expression on his face, she could well believe all of that was true and more.
Uncertain what to say to such a declaration, Aria decided her best course was to keep quiet and simply follow where Michael led. His mood had turned darker without her realizing it. The change had been so quick that she could barely believe the transformation. But it had happened all the same.
She had glimpsed this side of him once before, but she had little experience with how to coax him out of his foul humor. If she even could. This, then, was Satan’s Physician, the dark man who was fierce and angry, almost devil-like, and she could see how he had derived that awful nickname. This temper combined with unsurpassed medical skills would certainly lead many to believe he had made a deal with the devil.
Rather than anger him further, Aria lapsed into silence, content to take in her surroundings. As they continued down the corridor, she noticed other, unlit hallways that branched off from this one. Though she hadn’t been out of doors since that first night, she thought that some of the halls might lead in the general direction of other outbuildings. She had been drawn to the stables because of the light that long-ago night, but she had passed other structures as she had trudged across what she now knew to be Michael’s lands.
“The first Duke of Fairbourne is said to have dug these tunnels.” Aria nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Michael’s voice. She hadn’t expected him to speak again so soon or in such a conversational manner. It was as if Angry Michael had never existed at all. “The second duke expanded them and the third duke is rumored to have brought in skilled stone masons from Italy to make certain nothing collapsed in on itself. It would not do to have a duke stuck in his own underground tunnels, I imagine.”
Now that looked about more, Aria could see that what she had at first assumed to be rough-hewn walls were instead well-fitted stonework that was a bit rough in places, likely due to age. “It is lovely in a rather stark sort of way,” she offered, still not quite certain how to deal with this man’s mercurial moods. Then again, it wasn’t as if she was marrying the man. She only hoped to bed him once or twice. What did it matter in the end, really?
It was also frigidly cold in the tunnel system, though that was not surprising as they were both underground and it was the middle of winter. She supposed that was why he had demanded that she bring her cloak. Even wrapped within the thick wool, she was still almost unbearably frozen and her body shook slightly and her breath frosted in front of her very eyes with each breath she took. It was probably not truly as cold as it seemed to her but as Michael had correctly pointed out, she was hardly well and the chill seemed to be something of an issue for her.
Still, Aria would not have turned back toward the warmth and safety of the manner house for anything. Michael had been correct. She could have an adventure with him or she could sit about and do nothing all day. Even though they had known each other only a short time, he knew enough about her to realize that an adventure would always be her preference.
Finally, they arrived at another door, this one inset into a wall similar to the one back at the manor house. “It is also rumored that the first duke was unreasonably paranoid. He was certain his neighbors were spying on him. For at one point, there were multiple estates in the area before the duke acquired them through nefarious means, little by little. In the meantime, he did not want anyone to know of his comings or goings so he had these tunnels constructed.” Michael placed his hand on the door. “Handy things, really, when you wish to go elsewhere on the estate and not be seen. Or send ‘round one’s own carriage in the middle of the night with servants dressed in women’s finery to confuse anyone who might be watching.”
“So I did hear a carriage pull up last evening!” Aria had begun to believe she was imagining things.
“You did,” Michael nodded. “After dinner it occurred to me that, much like you, your cousin is not a stupid man and he has already admitted to leaving men in the area to search for you. It is not unreasonable to think that those men might watch this house, for I doubt that your cousin trusts anyone. Liars and cheats usually assume that everyone is cut from the abysmal cloth as they are. And I ‘admitted’ that I had female guests arriving last evening so that if you were seen from a distance over the next few days, the presence of a lady could be explained.”
Understanding dawned upon Aria. “So you sent out your own carriage and used these tunnels to ferry your staff outside so that it would seem that the conveyance full of women was coming from elsewhere just in case anyone was watching. That is really quite clever of you.”
“I have my moments of brilliance,” he replied as he pressed on another hidden panel. “And while I was seeing to the details last evening, it also occurred to me that I could put these tunnels to a different use.”
“Such as spiriting me out of the house.” Now Aria was eager to see what lay beyond the door. According to Agatha, Thornfield Grange boasted at least ten outbuildings in addition to the stables and manor house. She had no idea what was in any of those buildings but her natural curiosity urged her to find out.
Leaning back against the door, this time Aria was positive that Michael’s eyes darkened, though differently than before. There were so many different facets to this man. Would she learn them all before she had to depart? Unlikely she supposed, which was truly a shame for he fascinated her in a way that men generally did not. Not
that she had any business being captivated by him anyway.
“Are you certain you wish to continue with our little adventure, pet?” His voice was low and almost sensual now, so different from his brisker tones earlier. “You can turn back if you like. There would be no shame in doing so.”
Did he mean to seduce her now? Aria had no idea. She might be brash but she was also completely inexperienced in the ways of men. Suddenly, the idea of Michael ravishing her here, alone and without the prying eyes of servants about, held a great deal of appeal. She was shy enough not to want witnesses to her downfall, nor did she wish to lose the respect of the servants. She had also been extremely disappointed that Michael had not come to her last night, though now she understood the reasons why not.
In truth, Aria was in no rush to lose her innocence, but the practical side of her understood that such a day was coming soon, whether she wished it to or not. If her Aunt Tilly arrived before Felton did, Aria’s aunt would likely force her to marry someone – but unfortunately probably not Michael.
Aria had been here alone with Michael for nearly a sennight now, chaperones in the form or staff or not. Therefore, her aunt would view Aria as ruined and would be in a great rush to see her wed before word of the “scandal” could leak out.
For as kind as Aunt Tilly was, she had also made no secret of the fact that she wished to see Aria settled and with babes, even if that match was with some lower member of the peerage rather than a duke or marquess as everyone in her family had always hoped.
Aunt Tilly likely never had and never would consider a former military physician who had taken up spying and horse breeding upon his return to England as a suitable husband for her niece, and not only because of his lack of a title. So no, it would be unlikely that Aria would be allowed to wed Michael and would instead be forced to pick from whatever lower gentry was available in and around Bath at this time of year. Which, according to the rumors back in London, wasn’t much.
Assuming that Aunt Tilly didn’t already have someone in mind for Aria, that was. After all, Aria had never learned why her parents had summoned her back to England from the plantation. Was it because they had arranged a marriage for her, thinking to curb her headstrong ways? And, if that was the case, was Aunt Tilly planning to force Aria into that pre-arranged match even now, long after her parents had passed? It was certainly a possibility.
On the other hand, if Felton found her first? Well, Aria had already imagined that scenario plenty of times to know that the merest thought of the man’s hands upon her was enough to freeze her already chilled body. Or the hands of someone her cousin forced her to wed against her wishes. That would be equally as awful.
Thus, if Aria had to lose her innocence, it should be her choice as to whom and she had already chosen Michael. Or perhaps she had not chosen him so much as her body had simply known that this was the man it wanted. And Aria did want Michael. Desperately.
Drawing in a deep breath, Aria glanced up at the man before her with what she hoped was a seductive glance. “I am certain, Michael. I thought I made that clear yesterday.”
His eyes were dark and hooded, but she could see he gripped the doorknob behind him tightly. So tight that his knuckles turned white. “You would not be the first lady of my acquaintance to change her mind after night abed. Alone.”
“I haven’t.” Aria met his heated gaze with one of her own. “My time as an innocent is coming to an end one way or the other. If Felton does not have me or give me to one of his libertine friends, my aunt will likely force me to marry some fat, old country squire with a passel of brats in order to avoid scandal. Does it not make sense that I should be allowed to choose the man who will bed me for the first time if I am able?”
“Only if you are certain you wish that man to be me.” Michael’s voice was low and almost dangerous and Aria had to fight not to shiver.
“I am. And I choose you, Michael. Each and every time, I would still choose you.” Then, taking as bold of a step as she ever had, Aria rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, offering this man to take what he wanted from her in silent invitation.
Chapter Thirteen
Good Lord above, this minx would be the death of him yet! But, oh, what a way to go.
To say that Michael was shocked at Aria’s boldness would have been something of an understatement. At least at first. However, he was quickly coming to realize that when it came to avoiding the wicked grasp of her cousin and a future she did not desire, there was very little Aria would not do. And she did still desire him. Him. Michael. And not some other man. She had desired him yesterday, and she still did today. The why of the situation didn’t matter. It was desire, plain and simple. Desire for him and not gratitude towards him. That was what mattered.
With a hard yank, Michael pulled open the door and tugged Aria inside. Unlike most of the old tunnels, this particular hallway led directly to the first floor of a small cottage tucked so deeply into the woods surrounding Thornfield Grange it was almost impossible to find. He had no idea if this place was originally meant to be a dower house or a love nest, but it had been clear to Michael from the moment he had walked in here nearly a year ago that the most recent Duke of Fairbourne had used it to keep his currently favorite mistress within easy bedding distance.
The entire place looked as if it had been occupied by the most decadent sort of harlot, and it probably had been not so very long ago.
The cottage boasted a total of ten rooms but twenty hearths, most likely to ensure that whoever was inside could be both naked and toasty warm at the same time at any time of the year, no matter how frigidly cold outside. Nothing killed a man’s desire quicker than frost nipping at his cock and balls. The place was also opulently furnished as well, even more so than the manor house, with damask and silk covering the furniture, thick velvet drapes and bed linens so soft that Michael had never felt the like, save for a scrap of cloth carried by a captured Frenchie that was rumored to have come from the very heart of Egypt.
The entire place was done in shades of gold, red and black, each room covered in thick, Aubusson carpets and lushly painted wallpaper. Tasteful but extremely erotic paintings hung on the walls in heavy, gold-gilded frames and there was a faintly Oriental air to the room. Surprisingly, Michael had found that he liked much about this small cottage, even though it seemed more fit for a fallen woman than a war-weary physician. So even though he had immediately begun extensive renovations on Thornfield Grange itself, he had ordered that this cottage remained untouched.
At the time, he had no idea why he had wished it to remain as it was. Now he did. In the back of his mind, he had always hoped to bring a woman here. A wild, sensual woman. A woman like Aria.
And last night as he had sent members of his staff out in his carriage, Michael’s mind had drifted back to this cottage and he had known. He had known that this was where he would bed Aria for the first time – provided she still wanted him. For this place, more than any other at Thornfield personified who he was. It was both the light and the dark, the good and the bad. Two sides of the same coin, both gentleman and scoundrel. For the truth was, Michael was both. He always had been and he had a feeling he always would be. For him, there was no absolute – in anything. Given his upbringing and heritage, there were always more shades of gray in between than he could count.
Michael had a feeling that in many respects, Aria was much the same way. After all, no proper, simpering miss would kiss him the way she just had. Well, one might, he supposed. After all, Aria just had. But that same prim and proper lady would also have to be hiding the heart of a wanton as well. Two sides of the same coin. Just like him.
With a growl, Michael spun Aria around and pushed her up against the door. “Do not say you were not warned, pet,” he cautioned. “I believe I have told you I am not always a gentleman.”
“You did,” she gasped as he nipped at the delicate flesh of her collar. “I also believe I told you that I did not care.”
“We shall see.” It took all of Michael’s self-control not to simply carry her off to one of the cottage’s many bedrooms and be done with things, but he managed. Just barely. He pinned Aria’s body against the door with his much bigger one, pressing the hardness of his already swollen cock into her hip. “This is what you do to me, pet. Do you know what this means?”
“I have some idea.” Aria reached for him, but Michael yanked her hands above her head and pinned them there, his much larger hand holding her two smaller ones almost effortlessly. In response, she shifted her hips until he was nestled between them so that he could feel the softness of her sex where he pressed against her. “I want you, Michael. Please. Do not deny me this. Not when it is something we both desire.”
He seized her mouth with his, his kisses hard and demanding. The time for delicacy had passed. This time, he would not relent. He would not back away from her. He wanted her and he would have her, good sense be damned.
With his free hand, Michael tugged at the ribbon on Aria’s cloak until it came free, the heavy fabric falling away from her body rather easily. Immediately he set to work on her gown, cursing the fact that she had chosen a warm one due to the chilly weather rather than one that showed more of her delectable body. But no matter. He would have her out of it just as easily.
“Stay,” he commanded as he released her hands. “Do not move until I tell you.” For a long moment, he thought she might disobey him just to be coy, but instead, she did as he asked, allowing him to manhandle her as he liked.
With her hands still above her head, Michael spun Aria around and quickly undid the row of tiny buttons that ran down the back of her frock. As he stripped away the fabric, he ran his hands over her impossibly smooth skin. Even the ravages of an English winter had not damaged her fairness and she was still so bloody soft beneath his fingertips.
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