Green Eyes

by Karen Robards

“Protective sort of chap, isn’t he? It’s clear he doesn’t like me sniffing around.” Charles frowned suddenly. “He doesn’t have any interest in you other than as his widowed sister-in-law, does he? I mean, you’re not blood relatives, and—”

  “Charles! What a thing to suggest!” Anna interrupted, managing to sound scandalized even as she blushed bright red. If anyone were to suspect exactly what kind of interest Julian did have in her, or how tenuous their relationship really was, there would be a dreadful scandal. Being branded a scarlet woman before her friends and neighbors was a horror she did not like even to think about.

  “I didn’t mean it quite that way,” Charles said, shamefaced. “Of course, as your brother-in-law, he’s interested in guarding your good name. It’s only natural. And you have Mrs. Fisher in the house—not that you need her, of course. It’s just for the look of the thing. Still, it’s not as if he’s your blood brother. But I can see I’m upsetting you, so I’ll say no more. Only, Anna—if you should need, uh, protecting, and Chase, for whatever reason, is not, uh, available, please be assured that you can turn to me.”

  “Thank you, Charles, but I hardly think—”

  “No, of course not,” he said hastily. “Well, I’ll take my leave of you. Although I’ll call again next week, if I may.”

  “Of course,” Anna answered. He kissed her hand and left the room. Anna stared after him in some dismay. Julian might not want her himself, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either. His attitude might be more dog-in-the-manger than anything else, but Charles had noticed it. And if Charles noticed, someone else might, too. A little gossip spread here and there could give rise to a nasty scandal, and Anna quailed at the prospect.

  She should ask Julian to leave now, before it happened. But she had already asked him to leave-several times, in fact—and he had refused to go.

  And if she were honest with herself, she didn’t want him to.

  Her eyes fell on the box at the foot of the bed, and she reached to pull it toward her. Had Julian really brought her a present? True, he’d been unprecedentedly kind to her in the week since her accident—but a present! Julian didn’t seem the kind of man to bring tokens of his regard to any female, much less herself.

  Anna’s fingers trembled slightly with anticipation as she undid the string and lifted the lid on the box. There, beneath layers of tissue paper, was the gleam of soft green silk.

  A dress! And not just any dress, Anna saw as she pulled it out, but a lovely confection of shimmering Indian silk, lavished with lace and cut in the latest style. It was a dream of a dress, a dress such as she had never possessed, and she didn’t waste any time. Swinging her feet out of bed, clutching the garment to her bosom, she made haste to try it on.

  XXXVII

  The dress became her as nothing ever had in her life. Anna stood before the cheval glass marveling at her own reflection. The unusual silvery green shade of the silk showed off her alabaster skin and darkened her eyes to emerald. It intensified the silvery tones in her hair, which she quickly twisted behind her head to get the full effect of how she would look with her hair properly dressed. Turning this way and that, she admired her reflection. The low-cut, lace-lavished bodice with its tiny puff sleeves left her shoulders and arms and a considerable expanse of milky bosom on view; the nipped-in waist was wrapped in a wide sash that made her own waist look impossibly slender; the belled skirt with its lace flounces was trimmed cunningly with silvery green bows that echoed the bow that tied the sash in the rear. The dress was both breathtakingly gorgeous and impossibly elegant. In it she looked beautiful. Anna thought of Julian choosing such a thing for her, gifting her with it, and felt a flutter deep in her stomach.

  Why had he done it? The possibilities made her heart speed up.

  Cautioning herself not to read too much into a gesture that might have been prompted simply because he disliked the color black, Anna nevertheless felt a tiny smile curl her lips. Julian was impossible, a rogue in many ways, unfeeling and high-handed and maddening to the point of making her want to murder him at least half the time, but still … She refused to finish the thought. He had bruised her heart, not once but twice. She would be a fool to leave it unguarded again.

  Yet she could not help the glow that pinkened her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes when she examined her reflection in the glass. If the very idea was not ridiculous, she would think that she looked like a woman in love. With Julian? The thought frightened her.

  To allow herself to fall in love with him would be to open herself up to heartbreak.

  With that sobering thought, her hands moved to the hooks at the back of the dress. It was time to put the lovely gown aside and return to the reality of her mourning clothes. She could not let what was no more than an intense physical attraction to a handsome man blind her to what was real and what was not real in life.

  The silvery waves of hair that fell in a rippling cascade to the small of her back obscured her vision as she struggled with the hooks. She had managed to work first one, then another, and a third free when she became aware that someone was watching her. Hands falling to her sides, she whirled with a gasp.

  “You look beautiful. Like a mermaid,” Julian said.

  “Don’t you ever knock?” Anna demanded, nettled, shaking her hair from her face as she stared pointedly at the door to her bedroom, which she had carefully shut before removing her nightdress.

  “When the occasion warrants it.” His odd, lopsided smile lent his dark face devastating charm. Just looking at him made Anna’s heart beat faster. He was so tall, so handsome, so very much a man.…

  But he was not for her, she reminded herself sternly. Her frown deepened into a scowl.

  “I thought you were going to show Charles some tea plants.”

  A shark’s smile curled Julian’s lips. “I lied,” he said, coming toward her with that lithe tread that was already branded on her memory for all time. Anna, suddenly shy of him, turned back to her reflection in the mirror. He came to a stop behind her, his height and wide shoulders making her seem tiny as their reflections merged, his eyes meeting hers in the glass. “When he got downstairs, I suddenly remembered a pressing appointment. Which, now that I think about it, wasn’t a lie after all. I wanted to see how the dress looked on you.”

  Anna regarded herself in the glass, then raised her eyes to his reflection. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. I love it, although I’ve no place to wear it.”

  “Wear it anywhere you like. To a dinner party. Out to visit your friends.” His hands rose to rest lightly on her bare shoulders. Anna tried not to react to his touch.

  “You’ve forgotten that I’m in mourning.”

  His mouth twisted. An ugly gleam sprang to life in his eyes. “I’ve forgotten nothing. But it’s been a year, and more. Don’t you think you’re carrying this a bit too far?”

  “I loved Paul.”

  “Past tense. Or are you telling me that you love him still?”

  “I’ll always love him.”

  That quiet avowal had the effect of making his mouth turn down. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and then he was turning her around, his fingers biting into her soft skin until she cried out.

  “You little fool,” he muttered harshly, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Anna didn’t try to evade his kiss. One part of her craved the touch of his mouth even as another part of her screamed danger. But she was weak where he was concerned, too weak to resist. She loved him.…

  Dear God, did she? The thought was appalling. She couldn’t, surely she couldn’t, love a blackmailing, thieving rogue who had a way with the ladies! It was folly, and worse than folly. But the feel of his mouth on hers was exquisite, warm and rough and oh, so right. Her hands slid up his shirtsleeves to rest against the solid muscles that bunched in his upper arms. She rose on tiptoe to fit her mouth to his.

  He made a deep, harsh sound under his breath. His arms went around her, and he pulled her hard against the unyielding length
of him. Anna melted in his embrace. Her arms stole up to wrap around his neck. Her fingers burrowed into the thick black hair at the nape of his neck. She kissed him back as if she had been starving for the taste of his mouth, kissed him with all the passionate abandon that her body could no longer deny. Did she love him? She shied from the thought. But did she want him?

  More than anything in life.

  It was a shock when he suddenly thrust her away from him, holding her at arm’s length as he scowled at her so ferociously that she was taken aback.

  “Julian …” she began, then faltered at the black expression on his face.

  “Julian,” he mimicked in a ruthless falsetto. “At least this time you’ve got the name right.”

  With that he thrust her away from him and turned to stalk to her wardrobe. While Anna watched, dumbstruck, he jerked open the doors and, after a quick survey of the contents, began to yank the dresses one by one from their hangers, tossing them carelessly over his arm.

  “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Anna gasped when she had regained the use of her voice.

  “This farce has gone on too long. You’ve mourned him for a year, and that’s enough.”

  He was emptying her wardrobe of every single black dress she possessed! Anna hurried to stop him, catching his arm only to find herself ruthlessly shaken off.

  “You can’t just take my clothes!”

  “Can’t I? Just watch me, you little hypocrite.” He slanted her a glittering look over his shoulder.

  “Hypocrite!”

  Her indignant echo earned her another fierce look.

  “What else would you call it? You lie with me, let me love you, love me back hotter than any lightskirt I’ve ever had, yet you go around claiming that you love your dead husband and wearing the mourning to prove it!”

  “I do love—” Anna began, protesting, only to break off as he turned on her, rage twisting his race.

  “If you say his name one more time, I swear I’ll throttle you.” The threat was forced out between his teeth.

  His mouth was twisted into a snarl, and he looked so savage that Anna, alarmed, took a step backwards.

  His lip curled with jeering satisfaction. “Afraid of me? I don’t blame you. You’ve got cause.”

  “Julian—”

  His eyes flamed at her like twin coals fished up from some pit in hell. Anna, eyes widening, broke off.

  Without another word, he turned to strip the rest of her mourning gowns from her wardrobe. Then, with a last smoldering glare, he stalked from her bedchamber.

  Anna, speechless, stared helplessly after him. It took her several minutes to register that he had really, truly, made off with every decent dress she possessed. What was left was a hodgepodge of gowns that dated from before Paul’s death—and the shimmering green dress she still wore. Angry as she was, Anna knew a sudden urge to rip the fragile silk into shreds just to spite Julian. She actually had her fingers in the garment’s neckline before the sheer beauty of the gown stopped her. Seething, she got out of the dress as quickly as she could and into the lavender one she had donned once before because of Julian. The memory made her angrier than ever, and there was a decided spark in her eyes as she went in pursuit of her clothes and the man who had dared to make off with them.

  “Why, Anna, it’s good to see you in colors!”

  Ruby emerged from the house’s nether regions in time to make this comment—and be rewarded by a glare and a fierce mutter as Anna stormed past. The other woman was left gaping, but not for long. She hurried to catch Anna.

  “My goodness, lovey, where’re you off to in such a snit?”

  “He took my clothes!”

  “What?”

  “You heard me: the swine took my clothes!”

  “You mean Julian?” Ruby, having fallen in beside Anna as she stalked out the door onto the rear veranda and then down into the garden, sounded intrigued.

  “Of course I mean Julian!”

  “But why … ?” As she absorbed this information, Ruby suddenly sounded hugely entertained. Anna cast her a fierce look.

  “Why? Why? Because he says—never mind what he says!”

  “Tired o’ your blacks, is ’e?” Ruby nodded sagely. “I can’t say I’m surprised. ’E’s been in a rare taking over you since you got ’urt. If you was to ask me, I’d say ’e’s smitten.”

  “What do you mean?” Anna turned on Ruby so fiercely that the other woman blinked.

  “Why, just that it’s as plain as the nose on your face that ’e’s daft about you. Why else would ’e make off with your blacks? I’d say ’e’s bloody jealous.”

  “Jealous!”

  “Of Paul.”

  “Paul’s dead.”

  “That don’t make no matter if ’e’s still alive to you.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous notion I ever heard in my life!”

  Ruby shrugged.

  “Julian and I—he dislikes me most of the time. How could he possibly be jealous of Paul? It’s absurd!”

  Ruby shrugged again.

  “I—” Anna broke off abruptly, recollecting the events that had led to Ruby’s amazing suggestion, and looked furiously around her as her momentary distraction gave way again to pure temper. The garden, the stable yard, and the surrounding areas were apparently deserted. “Whyever he did it, the fact remains that the swine stole my clothes. If I don’t find him before he does something to them, I won’t have a stitch to my name!”

  “Look there,” Ruby said suddenly, pointing beyond the stables.

  Anna saw a rising plume of smoke and felt her anger shoot to red hot.

  “If he dared … !” She gritted her teeth, hurrying toward the smoke.

  Following, Ruby said nothing, but her face was alive with amusement, which she was careful not to let Anna see.

  “I do like a forceful gent,” she murmured, almost to herself.

  “What?” Anna glanced back over her shoulder as she rounded the corner of the stable.

  “Never mind, lovey, it weren’t important. Will you look at that!”

  The sight that provoked Ruby’s comment caused Anna to stop dead. Then she picked up her skirts and ran, straight for the pile of flaming brush and wood on the top of which smoldered—her clothes!

  “You low-life, arrogant bastard!” she hissed at Julian, who had turned from raking up the flames to watch her headlong rush. Anna repeated the epithet, relishing the sheer badness of the forbidden word. She snatched up the rake he had dropped and tried desperately to fish at least a few of her dresses from atop the pile.

  “Now, is that any way for a vicar’s daughter to talk?” Julian grabbed her around the waist, swinging her away from the task that she already saw, to her despair, was useless. Her clothes were ablaze. Flames ate hungrily at the fine silk and muslin and taffeta.

  “Just look what you’ve done!” Anna wailed in despair as the garments smoked and curled, already crumbling into ashes. His arms around her waist held her back from the fire, and she struggled furiously against them. When it was clear there was no hope of salvaging anything, he let her go.

  Anna promptly turned on him with the rake, swinging with such fury that if the blow had connected it would have taken off his head. Julian ducked.

  “ ’Old, there!” Jim, whose smirking presence had just registered on her consciousness, grabbed her from behind before she could let fly with a second swing. Julian, grinning, wrested the rake from her grasp.

  “Let her go, Jim,” he directed once the rake was safe in his hands.

  “If you say so.” Jim sounded dubious. He set Anna free, then took a hasty step out of the way.

  But he was in no danger. Anna was barely aware of his presence, much less that of Jama, who stood watching from the safety of the stable door, or of Jama’s wide-eyed assistant, who had emerged from the stable holding two saddled horses.

  Her attention was all for Julian.

  “I’ll just order more,” she hissed, her fists clenc
hed at her sides. The knowledge of her own inability to injure him enraged her.

  He smiled with great charm. Taking a step closer, he caught her chin and turned her face up to his.

  “You do that, sweetheart, and I’ll burn them, too. In fact, if I see you in one more black dress, I’ll strip it off you where you stand. In company or not. I give you my word.” The threat was soft, too soft for anyone but Anna to hear.

  Furiously she knocked away his hand.

  “Touch me again and I’ll—I’ll …”

  “You’ll what, sweetheart?”

  When she merely glared at him, at a loss for a threat that would bother him in the least, he chuckled. Exploding rage rendered her momentarily speechless.

  “That’s a good, sensible girl,” Julian said carelessly, his voice a little louder so that their audience could hear. Anna, fury making her cheeks flame, was still struggling with words bad enough to call him when he turned away, strode to where the boy held the two horses, and swung into the larger one’s saddle. Jim followed like a faithful shadow.

  “See you at supper,” Julian called to her, gathering the reins. Then, with a last mocking grin in her direction, he put his heels to the horse’s sides and rode away, Jim trotting behind him.

  “That—that …” Anna spluttered furiously to Ruby, who had come up to stand beside her.

  Ruby took a deep breath. “Lovey, if you ever get tired of him, give him to me,” she said. Then, as Anna turned blazing eyes on her, Ruby hastily began to recant.

  XXXVIII

  Deprived of almost her entire wardrobe, Anna spent the next few days sulking in her chamber. Ruby, sympathetic but oddly amused, visited her, as did Chelsea and Kirti. Of Julian she saw not so much as a whisker.

  Which was just as well. Every time she thought of the mocking devil, her ire rose. She wanted to slap his swarthy face, kick his powerful shins, bite his well-muscled shoulders—and that was just for starters. What she really wanted was to kill him.

  How dare he put her in such a position? She had the hideous feeling that she was the laughingstock of the household, if not of the community at large.