“Don’t!” she cried, staring up into his hood, feeling his warm breath skim against her skin.
“Don’t what?” he mocked huskily. “Don’t kiss you? Don’t make love to you right here on the stairs? You stayed, didn’t you?”
She shook her head as her skin became warm pressed so intimately against him. But her eyes… they weren’t fearful, no. But curious… Rhys swore that if he knew she couldn’t see his face, she’d be trying to decipher his very soul. A delicate frown creased the lines between her brows and her lips parted slightly.
“Let me see you,” she murmured, blinking.
He balked and began to draw away from her.
“No!” she clutched at his arm, staying his retreat. “Please. If… if you let me see you, you can kiss me.”
Why did the thought of that appeal to him so much? All he had to do was drop his hood and lower his mouth and… God, then he’d have to face the pity on her face. He couldn’t endure that.
He pushed her away from him and her back caught against the railings of the stairs. He didn’t fail to catch her wince.
“Don’t be stupid,” he snarled. “I could never want you.”
The hurt that flashed across her face caused guilt like he had never known to butcher his soul. He was an utter ass.
“I see,” she said softly, lowering her eyes to her lap before raising them to his again. “You may think that you’ve hurt me, but you haven’t. You’re only trying to push me away. You might not want me as a-a lover, but I’m quite sure you could tolerate me as a friend.”
She was as far from the truth as she could get. He’d jump at the opportunity to have her as his lover but… but the scars! How could he endure watching her watch his scars? It would be too much, too painful… What would he see mirrored on her pretty face? Pity? Repugnance?
“Danielle, you need to leave and don’t come back here.”
“I will.”
“You mustn’t!”
She slowly began to stand, her legs uncoiling from where they had been coyly crossed under her, her arms clutching at the railing and then at her back, her face displaying an array of pain that concerned and confused him. Surely he hadn’t hurt her when he shoved her away from him?
“Are you in pain?” he asked harshly.
She nodded slowly. “Think nothing of it.” She waved her hand dismissively. “An old injury that comes back to plague me.”
“Well, I’ll escort you to your horse or carriage so you can return home safely and lie down.”
She threw him an amused look. “I walked, my lord, and lying down is the last thing on my mind. I think I’ll explore the coastline a bit before I go home.”
He inclined his head graciously. “Whatever you wish.”
“You wouldn’t care to join me?”
And ravish you on the beach? “No.”
“Very well. I shall see you soon, Lord Ashcroft.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t, Miss Carmichael.”
She grinned impishly. “Farewell, my lord.”
Chapter 4
Unfortunately, the small jarring of her back given to her by Lord Ashcroft had caused more pain than Dani thought possible.
Her spine was in utter agony all through the day and into the night. Sleep eluded her but moving caused too much pain so she opted to remain in bed until her agony subsided.
The following morning she sent word down to her aunt that she would be unable to attend breakfast and requested a tray sent up to her. Naturally, Fiona was quick to survey the extent of Dani’s immobility in person, fussing over her like a worrisome mother.
“Is it your back again, dear?” she enquired sympathetically, hovering in the doorway.
“I’m afraid so,” Dani lamented. “I so wanted to go for a walk along the coast today… I can’t seem to bring myself to bite through the pain and get up.”
“Hmmm. Would you like me to send for the doctor?”
“There’s no need. I know what they’ll say- bed rest and laudanum.”
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Fiona gave her an assessing look where she lay on her side, a pillow wedged between her knees, on the bed. “Shall I send anything up to you? I’ll make sure your embroidery is sent up-”
Dani smothered a laugh. Her embroidery was shameful. The last thing she wanted to do was stitch a boring piece of fabric. “No, thank you. But if you could send up a few books for me to read, that would be lovely.”
“I will do so at once,” she assured her motherly. “You just keep still now and I’ll make sure you’ve everything you need to make the day pass smoothly.”
“Thank you.” Dani smiled at the old woman appreciatively before being left to her own devices. She sighed resignedly, having long ago decided that she would have to visit Falmouth Castle again another time. There was absolutely no possibility that she would be able to walk there when her back was in this much pain. It was irksome, that. She’d never been given to being made lame by an injury. It was just a pity that she was now when quite the most exciting thing was happening to her.
Good God, she had befriended the Earl of Falmouth! Well, she hoped she was at least making headway befriending him. One could never tell with that infernal hood. She could safely assume that he was warming up to her… well, maybe not safely but she liked to hope. Maybe he found her an amusing diversion to his normally humdrum life. She suspected that his life would be quite humdrum… locked away in a lonely castle with no one for company other than… how had he put it? Ah, yes… the pile of rocks around him.
Or maybe his life was quite exciting. Everybody thought he was dead. Why? Was he trying to keep some mysterious secret from the rest of society? Oh, it was thrilling! Titillating! And Dani was the only person who knew of his existence. Not that he’d gone through much pains to hide his identity from her… what if he were an imposter who merely knew enough about the history of Falmouth Castle to use the earl’s identity as his own?
Dani shook the thought from her mind. She knew he was the real Rhys Ashcroft. Deep down, she just knew. It made her quite melancholy that she wouldn’t be able to further their acquaintance that day but she sighed resignedly and flipped open the book she had been reading since last night- a tome of Keats’s poetry and works. Life always followed a certain routine for her and, on occasion, she would become quite envious of people who had exciting lives: people who travelled and explored the continent, men who wrote about their adventures, those poor unfortunates involved in the most scandalous of gossips... Danielle’s life had progressed in quiet anonymity. She didn’t draw attention to herself. She never made a fuss or a scene and she had scarcely stepped foot out of London up until three months ago. She had even shied away from dancing during balls because of her back, not that she received many offers from gentlemen in the first place. Then again, she had tried to look as reluctant as possible in order to stave off actually rejecting someone.
Reflectively, Dani realised that she didn’t have much to complain about in her life. Her dowry was small, but adequate, and she always had relations that cared about her. Perhaps in a few years she could use her dowry to set herself up comfortably in the country. A small cottage would be nice with an extensive collection of books and a pretty garden.
Maybe life would have been better if things with her mother had been different, but she didn’t dwell on that for too long.
Content as she was with her lot, she couldn’t help but feel a small thrill of excitement unfold within her.
It was about four o’clock when a knock sounded at her bedroom door and her aunt poked her silver head around. “You have a visitor, dear. Would you like to see her? Or shall I inform them you’re indisposed?” she asked.
“Who is it, aunt?” Her? Dani didn’t have any female acquaintances in Cornwall.
“Hmmm… A Mrs Valerie Donaldson. Says she has to return something you left at her house yesterday.”
“Oh.” Curiously, Dani tried to recall all the places she had been yester
day but the only place that stuck out in her mind was Falmouth Castle. “I’ll see her, aunt. Thank you.”
Fiona nodded her head and a few minutes later a stout, middle-aged woman was shown in carrying the picnic basket Dani had left at Falmouth Castle.
Valerie Donaldson had a warm, round and friendly face, equipped with red cheeks and brown eyes. She wore a smudged apron which pronounced that she held a station as a servant in someone’s home –presumably Lord Ashcroft’s- and was altogether a pleasing, motherly specimen that bustled towards Dani’s bedside concernedly.
“Oh, my,” she gushed, setting the picnic basket on the floor, “are you alright, child?”
“Um… yes!” Dani assured the strange woman hastily. “Just an old injury acting up, I assure you. But… pardon me for being frank, but who are you?”
“Oh!” Mrs Donaldson looked flustered and embarrassed. “You must forgive me! I lost my manners! Oh, how terribly rude of me.” She bobbed a polite curtsy. “I’m Valerie Donaldson, his lordship’s cook and housekeeper, miss. Everybody calls me Val, though, and I’d be honoured if you do the same.”
Dani gave the woman a warm, tentative smile. “Very well. I shall be honoured to call you Val.”
Val beamed approvingly before placing herself on the edge of the bed. “I was so concerned when you didn’t show up today,” she blurted cheerfully, “I was sure something terrible had happened. You’d been so persistent these last two times I thought… we all thought that you’d have to turn up today. Well, when you didn’t, the lordship was in a right mood, he was-”
“I beg your pardon?” Dani spluttered. “Lord Ashcroft missed me?”
Val gave her a conspiratorial wink. “He’d never say so himself, my dear. And he’d have my head if he knew I’d say such a thing to you, but we could tell the moment his mood blackened. The whole day he’d been pacing that place like a hungry cat, jumping at the merest sound. Grayson and I both think he was waiting for something-” she paused and gave Dani another motherly smile- “waiting for you, I believe, and when it became clear that you… uh… couldn’t visit, he sent me over to your cottage on the pretence of returning your things but actually to find out what had been keeping you.”
“Did he actually tell you to find out all that?” Dani asked disbelievingly. Ashcroft had made it quite clear that she was the last person in the world he would consider caring about so she was having a difficult time believing the stout cook’s presence in her room.
“Well of course not!” Val chuckled. “The man’s too proud for his own good but I know that boy well enough by now. As soon as I return he’ll be wanting to interrogate my every word uttered in this house, mark my words.”
Dani allowed herself a small, private and secretive smile. Surely if Val had known the earl for as long as she seemed to have, then her assumptions about him would be correct. Oh, how she wished she could visit him! Regret, disappointment and… longing all coalesced to make her yearn to see him again and it was a strange feeling for Dani. She had never longed to see anyone of her acquaintance, let alone a cloaked gentlemen whose appearance was an intriguing mystery to her.
She gave the cook a nervous look, wondering if she would be out of place to ask such a thing. “Val,” she hedged, “why does he not… that is, why does he wear that cloak all the time?”
Val sighed sadly, her brown eyes filled with tears for a moment before she stilled. “An accident,” she said softly. “His carriage rolled into a ditch a few years back. The glass from the windows shattered and scarred the left side of his face terribly. Such a pity that. Never was there a handsomer man that Rhys Ashcroft. Mind you, he was also a cold man and quite rude to the ladies that didn’t quite meet his standards. A rumour went around that it was after he gave one vindictive young gel the cut that she fiddled with his carriage and that caused the accident. Oh, the poor lad. He took it so badly, he did. He didn’t leave his chambers for months and when he did… it was only with that infernal cloak on. Hasn’t taken it off… well, not in company anyway. I haven’t seen his face after the accident. I think Grayson did once, but his lordship is very secretive.” Her brown eyes glinted excitedly at Dani. “But you! You’ve done something to him, lass! I’ve never seen him gnaw at his bit like this before. It’s like there is-is a fire at his heels! Oh, Miss Carmichael-”
“Wait, Mrs Donaldson, I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying,” she interrupted slowly, warily.
“Oh, I know he can be a cold lout,” Val trilled happily, “but with a little patience I’m sure he’d be the most lovable man in existence. He’s sorely lacking in affection, miss. I can only ask you not to give up on him when he pushes you away-”
“Val,” Dani said firmly, “I’m not trying to make the earl fall in love with me. I assure you, I was only seeking his friendship. It was a mystery to me, is all. I’m not sure how you came to the conclusion that I could be a woman he came to love, but… well. Oh drat, I don’t know what to say with you looking at me like that!”
Val was looking at her in a benign, condescending almost knowing way. It was a look that said ‘that’s-what-all-you-young-people-think-at-first-but-I- know- better’. Val reached out and patted her hand affectionately. “We’ll see, dear,” she murmured softly. “It would just be nice to have some warmth and laughter in that old heap of stones again.”
“I’m sorry,” Dani blurted.
“Whatever for?”
Dani studied her fingers that were fiddling with the pages of her book. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I hope you’re not expecting overly much from me. The earl said outright yesterday that I am far from the women he usually associates with.”
Val snorted derisively at that. “The women he usually associates with he hasn’t associated with in nearly five years!” she scoffed, then smiled down at Dani. “Which is also precisely why you’re just perfect for him. I’m sure of it.”
Dani sighed forlornly. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Another affectionate and motherly pat landed on her hand. “I’m sure you won’t, miss.”
After Val left, Dani didn’t feel much like reading anymore. She mulled over the things she’d learned about the earl and warm fingers began to unfurl over her heart. She shoved the feeling aside. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that she could hold any hope over winning the earl’s heart. At a young age she had known that she was no beauty. Her brown hair and plain looks were testament to ordinary and nondescript. Not that she was shallow enough to believe that it was a person’s appearance that made someone fall in love with them… but it helped! And judging by her floundering failure during the Seasons, Danielle Carmichael was nothing remarkable, nor could she ever be dubbed the belle of the ball, and even less likely- an Original. Not even her wit- which she thought was quite intelligent- or her kind personality could charm a man. But if she reflected on her years in the Marriage Mart, her heart hadn’t been entirely set on it either.
Her mother’s wavering fight with depression had been her sole cause for concern during the last few years. Oh, she knew that Elizabeth Carmichael was sick, that it would be only a matter of time before she died, but that didn’t make it any less hurtful. She didn’t miss her mother because she knew that she was happier now than she had been when she was alive. What hurt was the knowledge that the person you loved most in the world, and who was supposed to love you most, would rather end her own life than endeavour to spend it with you.
“She’s sick?” Rhys raged, incomprehensibly angry. “What do you mean, sick?”
Val smiled knowingly at Grayson, who returned the look. “Bed- ridden, my lord,” she explained patiently. “She can’t get out of bed.”
“I know what bed- ridden means,” he snapped impatiently as he prowled the length of his study. “What’s the matter with her?”
“She said it’s an old injury that acts up from time to time,” Val said. “Her back, I believe.”
Rhys recalled the moment when she flinched as her
back jarred against the railing of the stairs. He groaned hoarsely. “Christ.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord?” Grayson intoned dryly.
“Did she seem alright?” he snapped at the two of them although he had only sent Val to see her.
“She’s in perfect health,” Val told him gaily. “Just a bit of pain in her back, is all. She assured me she’d be better tomorrow.”
“You could always call upon her, my lord,” Grayson told him wryly, “to see that she is well for yourself.”
“I ought to throttle you for your impertinence, Grayson,” Rhys growled. He stopped his pacing and forced a glower on his face that he knew the two servants would not be able to see. “I don’t care about the silly chit. Why would I call upon her myself?”
Suddenly the two of them were animated, shrugging and smiling and grumbling all at once. He didn’t like that one bit at all.
“I must be paying you too much,” he drawled caustically before stalking from the study and down the hall to the master bedroom.
Chapter 5
Sometime after midnight…
Her eyes, she thought, felt abominably dry. Dani squinted at the writing that was becoming smaller with each passing hour and the waning candlelight. Besides that, Keats was decidedly harder to decipher as the hours of the night wore on. It would be for the best if she set the volume aside and attempted to sleep, but she feared her back would discomfort her. She sighed wearily and closed her book, staring blankly at the small remainder of the candle placed next to her bed while she decided what she should do.
The silence of the evening, accompanied by a barrage of throaty snores emanating from the bedroom down the hall belonging to her guardians, allowed her to listen to the sounds that usually echoed through the night. An owl hooted from the tree outside her window and somewhere in the distance a dark barked incessantly, probably at its own shadow. Suddenly, her ears pricked on a rustle and low curse from outside her window.
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