“They aren’t little,” Rhys grunted, annoyed.
“They are as big as you make them.”
Chapter 10
“Ashcroft? As in Rhys Ashcroft?”
Gabriel turned to study his wife from where he stood by the window in their private chambers, a glass of brandy cradled in the palm of his hand. “How many other Ashcroft’s do you know?” he asked dryly.
She scrunched her face up in puzzled thought as she perched prettily on the edge of her stool in front of her vanity, her back to him. Her raven-black hair coiled languorously over her shoulders, touching her waist, as she ran a comb through its silken strands. “Well,” she said slowly, “I think I once knew a Millicent…”
“Victoria.”
“No, no… she was an Ashton.”
“Were you even listening to me?” he demanded, growing a bit exasperated at her ability to distract herself.
She pivoted on her stool to face him and gave him a bright smile before pulling her hair over one shoulder and beginning to braid it. “Of course I was. Rhys Ashcroft was at the masquerade tonight.” She stuck her tongue out at him, still smiling.
He sighed. “And? What else?”
Victoria pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I thought he was dead.”
“Vicky, I love you but you’re incredibly annoying.”
Finishing her braid, she secured the ends with a pink ribbon, her long tapered fingers working lithely, and gave him a patient smile. “Very well. I wasn’t listening. What about Rhys Ashcroft?”
Having known Victoria for most of his life, Gabriel wasn’t surprised when his wife resumed being active immediately after having voiced her last question. Victoria was such an animated entity at all times. It was as if she simply couldn’t stand letting her fingers lie idly. Even in sleep she tossed and turned to such an extent that once or twice Gabriel had to sacrifice his spot for one on the rug in front of the hearth. As he spoke, she began to fiddle with various containers and ornaments on her vanity, closing lids, straightening, smelling, until Gabriel wanted to tie her hands behind her back.
“Don’t you want to know why he bothered to attend the masque tonight?” he enquired in a testing voice.
Victoria huffed impatiently, distractedly opening a bottle of perfume and sniffing at the lid. “You’re going to tell me whether I do or don’t,” she mumbled breathily. “I can’t see how this pertains to me. After all, he was your friend.”
“Victoria, Rhys hasn’t made an appearance in society for over five years. He hasn’t even bothered to correspond with me in all that time.”
“So?”
“I was the closest thing to a friend he ever had. I couldn’t even convince him to come to our wedding. Don’t you think it odd that now, suddenly, he attended a ball where nearly the entire ton was present?”
She gave him a caustic look. “I wouldn’t know what to make of it, Gabriel,” she told him slowly and in a tone that suggested she were talking to a very slow child who couldn’t figure out a very simple mathematical problem. “Like I said, he’s your friend and you should know why he was there. Not I.”
Gabriel had to bite down an oath. “He was there for Danielle,” he blurted.
For the first time in her life, Victoria was utterly still and utterly silent. After several moments, she remained thus and Gabriel continued.
“I tried to tell you there but you were so damned set on taking me apart for Desdemona Fitzgerald, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”
Her aquamarine eyes were serious when she turned to him again. “I remember him now,” she said at last. “My first opera… you introduced us. He was with that… that loose woman.”
“Victoria, you can’t go around chasing off Rhys Ashcroft’s ex-mistresses, too.”
A peeved expression crossed her face. “By telling me this, did you think I would approve of the match?”
Sensing the tension emanating from his wife, Gabriel pushed off the wall and came towards her. He set aside his brandy and cocked a hip against her vanity. “You’re missing the point, darling. Rhys never went out of his way for any woman. Ever.”
“That doesn’t make him any less of a scoundrel!” she snapped.
Gabriel raised a brow at her. “You used to think that I was a scoundrel,” he pointed out dryly.
At that, she crossed her arms under her breasts and gave him a dirty look. “I still do.”
“You are over-reacting. In all honesty, Danielle might be good for Rhys.”
At that she jolted to her feet and began to pace the length of the chamber energetically. Gabriel knew her stillness wouldn’t last long. “I know that she would be good for him,” she ranted furiously. “Danielle could convert the Devil to Catholicism! What concerns me is whether he is good for her! The things they say about him-”
“You’re being unfair, Victoria. If you will recall, both you and I had things said about us.”
She halted mid-stride. “I knew that she had met someone but I had no idea… Oh, I must warn her!”
Gabriel stalked towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. “Victoria, stick your nose out of it for a change,” he warned gently. “Let’s see what happens first before you start with all your warnings. Believe me, this is not the Rhys you saw all those years ago.”
She toyed absently with his loose cravat and mumbled, “Fine. I won’t say anything unless Dani does. But just you so know, I don’t like it. Not one bit.”
“I know.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But you’ll learn to live with it.”
Rhys didn’t return to Falmouth immediately after the masque. Instead he located a bottle of strong spirits and spent well over three hours atop a rock looking over the churning waters of the ocean miles below him.
The cold wind was invitingly refreshing as it served to clarify some of his more confusing thoughts as, paradoxically, the liquor served to cloud them more.
Eventually he became so inebriated and thoughtless he felt that the only way in which to untangle the knot of feelings building within him was if he actually got to see the cause of them. Later he would come to realise his actions as idiotic, but that didn’t stop his drunken body from moving inexorably towards the little cottage atop the hill in the quiet village of Falmouth.
Due to his dark attire and his natural tendency to embrace the shadows, he was nigh invisible as he entered the small, well-kempt garden. The smell of roses was pungent as he stood amid the bushes, in the shadow of the huge oak, and stared up at her window. A small light was coming from the depths of her room and much to his surprise she was awake and in plain sight.
His heart lurched violently. She leaned on the windowsill and was looking plaintively at the star-filled night sky. Although most of her features were indistinguishable, Rhys sensed that her mood was contemplative and melancholy. Her long dark hair cascaded around her face, wisps caught and teased by the wind.
The sight of her made him inexplicably euphoric. Even though he had seen her a few hours ago at the ball, he found that in the subsequent hours that followed he had yearned to see her again, to be in her presence, to see her smile and hear her voice, to smell her. They were dangerous, provoking feelings and he had no right to them or any use for them. He’d never been compelled to feel affection for any other woman before Danielle and he resented the fact that she could so easily evoke them in him. It was irksome and irrational, everything Rhys was not.
What right did he have to imagine a future with her? She was everything that was warm and lovely. As soon as she saw the scars… his mind balked. He didn’t like to think about what would happen when she saw them. He couldn’t think about what she would do when she saw them.
Even if by some miracle she wasn’t repulsed by his face, there was still the impact that he would have on her life. He couldn’t go out in public the way he was. He couldn’t attend parties or plays or even go for a ride. A girl like Danielle… well, she’d expect a husband to be able to accompany her o
n various socialisations. He couldn’t expect her to accept anything less. He couldn’t contain all that warmth to himself. She was something to be shared with the world, not kept hidden away in a cold castle with an equally cold man.
Despite all this, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her until she finally went to bed.
Chapter 11
The Hawthorne country estate was massive.
It was a great, imposing stone structure that loomed elegantly over a modest-sized body of water. The manicured landscape was dotted with natural vegetation and forest, save for the well-tended gardens surrounding the house.
Dani had never had the privilege to visit something so immense before. She had been quite content with her life of simple means and had never wanted for anything. The ducal estate she found quite ostentatious and intimidating and she couldn’t quite come to imagine herself ever feeling comfortable if she were to live in one.
“Do you visit here often?” she asked Victoria who was viciously attacking a rose bush that was in dire need of some pruning.
The other woman stopped abruptly, dabbed some sweat from her brow and frowned thoughtfully at Dani. “No,” she answered. “As you know, the ducal seat is in Surrey so Gabriel has to tend to business there most of the time. And in London. I didn’t even know this place existed until we were married.” She resumed her massacre.
Dani winced as a bright bloom dropped to the grass, scattering a few petals. She picked it up gingerly, careful to avoid the thorns, and admired its beauty. “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” she asked wryly.
“No,” Victoria puffed, “but I just couldn’t stand the look of them so unruly and right in front of the entrance, too. Besides, the gardener is busy with the hedges today and didn’t even want to hear me out about the roses…”
Dani could just imagine the poor man’s horror when he returned later in the day to find his beautiful bushes mangled by an over-energetic Lady.
“What did Gabriel have to say about this?”
Vicky set the sharp tool she was using aside and wiped her hands on the sides of her thighs, seemingly finished with her task.
Thank God.
“He doesn’t know,” she replied gaily. “He complains if I do anything remotely physical and unladylike. Gives me quite the headache, that does, so I simply don’t tell him what I’m about to do.”
“And here I thought marriage was about openness and trust,” Dani murmured dryly.
Victoria gave her a dirty look. “I’m going to pretend that you’re not criticising me and invite you inside for tea.”
Smiling, Dani followed her friend inside the impressive house and into one of the many drawing rooms. This one was more of the feminine variety than the one she had been shown to that morning. Light draping emitted a warm amount of sunlight into the large room and provided a view of the blooming gardens outside. Due to the pink colouring of the furniture, Dani found it hard to imagine Gabriel ever stepping foot in here. Or Rhys for that matter.
Drat.
He never failed to be far from her thoughts.
She thought she had been quite successful the whole morning, but there we have it. The blasted man had wormed into every fibre of her being. He would always manage to pop into her head in everything and anything that she did.
Victoria seated herself and rang for tea. “Now,” she said, picking at a smear of mud on her skirt, “are you going to tell me what’s happened about this gentleman you’ve met?”
Dani smothered a sigh. Even when she was trying not to think about him, there was always something provoking her to do just that. “There’s nothing to tell,” she explained neutrally.
“Have you seen him recently?”
“Not for two days.” If Vicky hadn’t invited her to spend the night at Hawthorne, Dani was sure she would have seen him by now. Even if the mere mention of him stung a chord of humiliation and rejection within her, she doubted she could very well leave the man alone. If he didn’t want to commit himself to her as a husband, then he could definitely use a friend.
Vicky appeared to be quivering where she sat. A butler carried in a tea service before leaving them alone once again but the crockery was ignored for the time being. Her friend gnawed her lip furiously and Dani instinctively knew she was fighting the urge to impart with something important.
“What are you not telling me?” she demanded.
“I mustn’t say!” she wailed, bunching her hands in her skirt and twisting the material furiously. “Oh, please, Dani, you mustn’t force me.”
Dani cocked a brow.
“Oh, alright! If you insist,” Vicky gushed, relief filling her voice. “I simply won’t tolerate grovelling from my best friend.”
Dani had to hide a smile. “But I’m not grovelling-”
Vicky held up a hand to interrupt, a determined expression on her face. “I’ll hear no more of it, Dani,” she said sternly. “I’ve already agreed to tell you this dire news, so let me have my say and be done with it.”
Dani rolled her eyes. “What is it, then?” she sighed.
Vicky leaned forward, her eyes intent and serious. “Well, this gentleman of yours,” she began, “Rhys Ashcroft-”
“How did you know?” Dani demanded, astounded.
Vicky dismissed this question with a flutter of her wrist. “Gabriel recognised him at the masquerade,” she said breezily, “but as I-”
“He wasn’t at the masquerade!”
Vicky gave her a peeved look. “Well, Gabriel said that he was and that he was looking for you specifically.”
“Oh my God.”
She had known it was him. Oh, God, it was cruel. How could he have hidden his identity from her? James Sutton, indeed! How she had not been sure of it that evening was indecipherable. The voice, the darkly sinister looks… she was a fool. She should have called him out on his deceit. Why hadn’t he admitted his identity to her? Why had he lied? The betrayal she was feeling sent tears to her eyes and her throat constricted painfully.
“Dani, are you alright?” Vicky asked concernedly.
Wordlessly, she shook her head, scared that anything more would cause the unshed tears to fall.
Hurriedly, the other woman poured a cup of tea just to Dani’s liking and handed it to her, placing herself beside her friend on the opposite settee. “Why don’t you tell me all about it?” she urged gently.
After a teary breath, Dani relented and found herself pouring the whole story about how she had met Rhys up until the night of the masque ball, only omitting the more risqué accounts including the kiss in the middle of the maze and the illicit bedroom visits.
Victoria listened with an intently sympathetic expression, never once commenting or interrupting, but occasionally frowning with thought or puzzlement.
“What I don’t understand,” Dani was saying angrily, “is why he would lie to me. Why would he come as James Sutton and not Rhys Ashcroft? Maybe at least to everyone else he could be James Sutton, but why not tell me who he really was?”
Vicky pursed her lips. “Well,” she began slowly, “I might have to re-evaluate my opinion of him after some of the things you’ve told me now, but I think… I think… oh, I don’t know what I think. This is all very confusing.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“Don’t be like that, Dani. Before you told me the whole story, I was about to severely warn you off Rhys Ashcroft. Now I fear my husband may just be right about him. Good God, don’t ever tell him that I said that.”
“What did Gabriel say about him?” Dani asked fervently.
Victoria glanced at her askance. “Only that this Rhys was a lot different from the Rhys he used to know in his more… er… disgraceful years.”
Dani contemplated her fingers nestling in her lap for a moment before saying anything. “I just don’t understand him,” she murmured sadly, “and what I don’t understand I just can’t handle. I’m tired of being hurt. I wish I could just forget about him and move on wit
h my life.”
“Mmmm.” Vicky absently poured them some more tea. “I think that you might just be good for him, after all.”
Dani made a disparaging sound, something similar to a snort. “I’ve heard that a lot lately,” she grumbled.
She gave her a small, sincere smile. “Look,” she said, “whatever it is you’re feeling for the earl, I don’t think you should ignore. Lord knows it has been hard to get you to even look at a gentleman over the years-”
“Not by my own choice,” Dani interrupted heatedly.
Vicky gave her a disbelieving look. “As I was saying, the point is that you’re quite besotted-”
“I am not!”
“-with the man and you shouldn’t try to curb those feelings. After all, he did go to the ball to see you. He may not have told you who he was, but he was there for you.”
“Are you actually giving me permission to consort with a lonely earl in an abandoned castle?” Dani asked incredulously.
“Of course not!” Vicky retaliated primly. “I’ll act as chaperone on your visits and I’ll forbid you to visit there alone unless I can accompany you.” She ruined her matronly speech with a mischievous wink.
“This is absurd. The man probably doesn’t even want to see me again. I doubt I’ll even be allowed into the castle.”
Vicky snorted. “Of course you will. Why, it sounds to me as if the man is struggling to keep his hands off you.”
“Vicky!”
“What?” Large, aquamarine eyes feigned innocence. “Oh, don’t act all coy. You know perfectly well that it’s true.”
Dani felt herself blushing, recalling vividly all the times Rhys had made advances on her. You’ve made me burn for you. Right now, after thinking about that evening in her room, Dani felt a bit of burning herself.
“Are you feeling well?” Vicky suddenly asked, frowning curiously. “You look a bit flustered.”
“Fine!” she blurted, fanning herself frantically with her hand. “It’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it?”
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