What a Woman Desires

by Rachel Brimble

  Mr. and Mrs. Abraham smiled, but their confusion of Thomas’s role this evening was clearly etched on their faces as they ran their gazes over his formal attire. Monica bit back her smile. The daughter of the house greeting and then the groom taking them inside to meet the mistress made no sense in decorum or propriety. Monica’s smile broke as she reveled in the opportunity of orchestrating things so differently from her father.

  Following on behind them, she looked at Thomas as the Abrahams brushed past him into the house. He tipped her a wink that set her stomach awhirl before following them inside. Monica held back, her heart beating fast. How was she to battle her attraction to Thomas for however many days and hours she remained at Marksville?

  Her director in Bath had told her to take as much time as she needed, but every hour at the house stretched her nerves to breaking. The dinner had to be the step toward her release from this appallingly sexual bondage.

  Lifting her chin, she turned when a second set of carriage wheels sounded behind her. More guests. She glanced toward the parlor door just as Thomas emerged and joined her at the door. He looked toward the second carriage as it drew to a stop outside and gestured with a wave of his hand. “Shall we?”

  She inhaled a shaky breath and led the way outside.

  One by one the guests arrived and were shown into the house. It wasn’t until Dr. O’Connor arrived that Monica left Thomas at the door alone to greet the remaining guests. Ignoring his warning glare behind the doctor’s turned back, she planted on a wide smile. “I’ll take you inside, Doctor. We only have Mr. and Mrs. Cole left to arrive and our party will be complete.”

  Dr. O’Connor smiled, his face alight with kindness and his eyes keen on hers. “I was most pleased with your invitation, Miss Danes. I very much look forward to being introduced to some more people who live in and around the village. I have only really met patients on my rounds. Meeting others socially is always far nicer.”

  Monica smiled and led him inside, Thomas’s glare burning holes in her back. The parlor was filled with soft chatter and laughter, and Monica inhaled with satisfaction. She had carefully selected three couples of the highest standing to attend the dinner, as well as the doctor and Caroline Flynn, daughter and sole heiress of her father’s flourishing wool business. With Monica, Thomas, Jane, and Mama, the table of twelve would be perfect.

  She looked to the doctor standing beside her. His expression was set in a smile, but Monica didn’t dismiss the cool, steady, and somewhat calculating gaze of a seemingly ambitious man. During her years in the theater she’d found herself in front of similar men bearing similar expressions of assessment. Dr. O’Connor most certainly had an agenda of one sort or another. She cleared her throat. “Why don’t I introduce you to a few people, Doctor?”

  He started and turned, his gaze immediately softening. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  Monica led him across the room toward Mr. and Mrs. Abraham, and after introductions were made, left the trio alone to pour Dr. O’Connor a glass of wine. She joined Jane at the sideboard. “How’s Mama?”

  Jane turned, but her gaze focused over Monica’s shoulder toward the chaise where their mother sat talking to Mrs. Lovett. “She’s as well as can be expected, but I daren’t leave her alone for long. I daresay she will soon get confused by the visitors.” She turned and focused on filling two small glasses. “How is the doctor?”

  “Well. He seems very happy to be here.”

  Jane exhaled a shaky breath. “Good. I wish my nerves would subside. My stomach is in knots. I have no idea how I will endure dinner knowing we are going after his money like two snakes in the grass.”

  Monica smiled. “We are not snakes in the grass. We’re two wealthy, independent women in our own right regardless of selling Marksville. We merely wish to transact a business arrangement, nothing more.”

  Jane met her eyes and her gaze burned with dismay. “We plan to cajole the man into buying the estate under the guise of a dinner invitation. We are snakes.”

  Monica bit back her smile as her sister picked up the glasses and swept toward Mrs. Lovett and their mother. Shaking her head, Monica lifted the discarded decanter when the unmistakable scent of Thomas coming to stand beside her enveloped her senses and provoked her arousal. She briefly closed her eyes and inhaled before focusing on the task in hand. “Have Mr. and Mrs. Cole arrived?”

  “Yes, I just came over to get them a drink.”

  Cursing the trembling in her hand as the decanter clinked against one glass and then the other, Monica nodded. “Good.”

  “And you’re still going to go ahead with your seduction of the doctor?”

  She snapped her head around, annoyance rippling through her. Why did he always have to be so critical when she was doing her best for both of them? “This is not a seduction.”

  “No?”

  Heat pinched at her cheeks. “Of course not. Do not make me out to be some sort of harlot. It’s bad enough Jane thinks we’re snakes.” She placed the decanter on the tray and turned, holding Thomas’s disproving gaze. “I know what I’m doing.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you?”

  Monica glared. “Yes.”

  “Then there is no reason for you to be alone with him at any point this evening.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Thomas looked past her, his blue eyes darkening. “Let me be there when you talk to him.”

  Monica turned and followed his gaze. The doctor stood with his back to them, laughing at something Mr. Lovett said. Monica turned and glared at Thomas’s profile. “It would hardly be appropriate for me to discuss the sale of the house at the table.”

  “The man is not to be trusted.”

  “If you’re with me, he won’t take me seriously as being able to make my own decisions. I don’t want you involved in the negotiations, Thomas. I’ll take your advice, but—”

  “I’m not needed beyond that.”

  Their gazes locked before he grazed his angry study over her face to linger at her mouth. “Just be careful. The man had an agenda long before you arrived here. If it’s the house he wants, he is clearly willing to bide his time. If he thinks you’re trying to manipulate him—”

  “He won’t.” Monica picked up the filled glasses. “I’m a big girl, Thomas. I know what I’m doing.”

  Leaving him, Monica walked purposefully across the room, battling her scowl into submission. “Your drink, Doctor.”

  Dr. O’Connor turned from his conversation with the Lovetts and smiled. “Ah, thank you.”

  He took the glass and drank deeply. Monica lifted her glass to her lips, grateful for the warmth of the claret as it slid down her throat. Thomas’s negativity had infuriatingly draped the doctor in an imagined icy cloak that he hadn’t worn before. Warning and doubt mixed and burrowed into Monica’s consciousness making her question her ability to negotiate and secure the sale of the house.

  Inwardly cursing Thomas’s interference and distrust, she forced a smile. She could do what needed to be done for her family, just as she had done for herself over the last few years. She had managed perfectly well without Thomas beside her then and she would now. Monica relaxed her tense shoulders. “So, is your practice in the village, Doctor? I have barely had time to explore the changes in the village since I’ve been back. The endless work running the estate and, of course, tending to Mama, have kept me tied to the house.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes soft with amusement. “You say that as though you do not like the house. Surely there isn’t a nicer place to spend your time?”

  Thomas’s warning resonated inside Monica’s mind. Swallowing hard, she pulled back her shoulders and smiled. “Marksville may be beautiful, Doctor, but it isn’t my beloved theater. I desperately miss the stage, no matter how much I might be needed here.”

  “I see. So you definitely do not intend to stay on at Marksville?”

  Turning from his unwavering gaze, Monica stared at her mother. “No, running Ma
rksville really isn’t for me. Of course, for anyone else, being mistress or master of such a wonderful estate would be a dream come true.”

  “Well, I am most sorry to hear you will not be here much longer, Miss Danes.”

  Monica turned and stared into his eyes. He stared straight back, his gaze filled with an implication she couldn’t understand nor decipher. “You are?”

  “Indeed.” He lifted his glass to his lips once more, his gaze on hers above its rim. “I really had hoped we would see more of each other as the weeks went by.”

  Unease rippled through her and Monica’s smile wavered as an unfamiliar feeling of being out of her depth emerged. She dragged her gaze from his to look about the room. Jane stared at them as Mrs. Cole chattered incessantly beside her. Heedless of Jane’s disinterest. Monica forced her attention back to the doctor. She had to soldier on; the sale of the house was about so much more than her wants. This was about Jane too. She cleared her throat. “No, I really do wish to continue living my life in Bath. If I didn’t have my career, I wouldn’t have a life. I love my work more than anything.”

  “And what of Miss Jane?”

  The hairs on Monica’s nape stood to attention and protectiveness overturned her apprehension. Her smiled dissolved. “Jane is a different woman from me, but as Marksville is mine to do with as I see fit—”

  “The estate is entirely yours?” His eyes gleamed with surprise. “I thought your father would have split the estate equally.”

  “I’m afraid he left it in its entirety to me, so any questions, interest, or problems in Marksville will now be mine to answer and deal with.”

  “I see.” His gaze stayed on hers as the clock on the shelf beside them counted the passing seconds. He blinked and smiled. “To answer your earlier question, my office is actually at my home for the time being, although I have ambitions for a separate office somewhere. Alas, it is something on the back burner until I become more established within the community.”

  Monica’s stomach knotted as her first glimpse of an opportunity to test how deep his interests in Marksville lie emerged. “It is always nice to meet an ambitious man, Doctor. It also pleases me that you wish to remain in Biddestone. The village seems to suit you.”

  He smiled. “Oh, it does.”

  She took a sip of her drink. “And do you wish for a family one day?”

  He laughed. “That’s a very forward question, Miss Danes.”

  Monica laughed and mentally poked herself in the eye for pushing too much, too soon. “I apologize. I merely ask because you strike me as a man who’d love a wife and children, as well as a thriving practice.”

  His eyes darkened for the briefest of seconds before they softened once more. He raised his glass to his lips. “I must be quite transparent.”

  “Transparency in a man is a rare and welcome virtue.” She glanced about the room and met Thomas’s steady and hardened gaze. “Sometimes far too much regard is measured by a man’s brooding and mystery.”

  “Well, I hold no shame in sharing my ambitions. I love Biddestone and truly hope to make a permanent home here.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Well, that’s wonderful. I’m sure the other residents will welcome you as much as I.” The gong sounded and Monica smiled. “Ah, dinner is served. Will you excuse me while I address everyone?”

  He dipped his head. “Of course.”

  Satisfaction washed through her as Monica left the doctor and walked to the fireplace. She’d managed to at least set the stage and would next draw on every one of her acting skills to expand the doctor’s interest in Marksville. She cleared her throat and the guests turned to look at her. She stretched out her hand in the direction of the open parlor door. “If you’d like to follow Jane and Mama into the dining room, dinner will be served.”

  One by one, arms were taken and the guests filed from the room, leaving her and Thomas to bring up the rear. He came across the room and offered her his arm. “My lady.”

  The soft, teasing lilt of his voice whispered over her skin and tugged maddeningly at her heart. Their eyes met and she smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

  She pushed her hand into the crook of his arm and the inevitable rush of heat swept over her. So much for not touching him again while she was at Marksville, every fiber of her being told her she was meant to be with this man. Yet deep in her soul she still needed the theater like she needed air. The passion, fire, and sexual attraction between her and Thomas were unquestionable, but the odds of their lives together being happy were minimal at the very least.

  So many factors were stacked against them—the contrast of their dreams, goals, and aspirations; the differences in their social class and experience. How would either of them ever be truly happy when they would be judged and spoken about wherever they went? Thomas led her from the room and into the hallway. She glanced at his profile as they walked and her heart twisted.

  Maybe, just maybe, she could sacrifice her career for Thomas’s love—but she couldn’t sacrifice her liberty, and to stay at Marksville and be responsible for so many lives was just too great a risk to take. Moreover, there was no guarantee she would succeed where her father had before. What if her efforts failed and she was forced to sell a year, two, or four from now?

  They reached the dining room and Thomas gripped her hand where it lay on his arm. She raised her eyes to his. “What is it?”

  He glanced through the open dining room door and she followed his gaze. Dr. O’Connor was holding out their mother’s chair and talking to her. She laughed and waved him away in an almost flirtatious manner. Monica inhaled. “She trusts him, doesn’t she?”

  “Too much.”

  Monica looked at him. His jaw was set and his eyes narrowed as he continued to study the doctor. Without thinking who might witness it, she touched her finger to his chin and urged him to look at her rather than the person central to the success of her mission. “It doesn’t matter whether Mama trusts the doctor or not. What matters is you trust me to ensure your future here. That’s still what you want, isn’t it? To stay here? With your family?” Say no. Say you’ll leave and come with me, Jane, and Mama to Bath. Say you want to be with me above all else.

  The selfishness of her silent plea twisted like a sword in her heart. How much longer could she bear to be around him without falling victim to her most painful heartbreak yet? Even the strength of Malcolm’s fists on her flesh and the whip of his belt buckle on her back seemed preferable to never seeing Thomas again. If she managed to persuade Mama to return to Bath with her, Monica would never set foot in Marksville again. To see Thomas and the disappointment at her abandonment a second time would be her undoing.

  He eased her arm from his, his beautiful eyes intense and unwavering. “I wish you could see Marksville as your home rather than your prison. But if you have to go, I won’t fight you anymore.” He briefly closed his eyes and opened them again. “I’ll support you, Monica, but for as long as I live, I will never let another man hurt or abuse you. If you succeed and O’Connor buys Marksville, promise me you’ll call for me whenever you need me, whether you be in the city or on the other side of the world.”

  Her thoughts of never seeing him burrowed deeper into her soul. It would be too painful to call on him, to visit and spend precious moments together when nothing could ever come of it. “Thomas—”

  He shook his head, his jaw tight. “What Baxter did to you—”

  “We will not talk of that anymore.” Heat assaulted Monica’s cheeks and shame rushed through her. The scars Thomas had seen on her naked back clearly haunted his thoughts and plagued at his need to protect her. She should’ve never lain with him. “It’s in the past. No man will ever get close enough to hurt me like that again. I can promise you that with all my heart.” Because it’s you who holds my heart and if I can’t have you, I’ll never love another.

  “Miss Danes? Is everything all right?”

  Monica stepped back as though scolded and Thomas stiffened. Mrs. Seton a
pproached them carrying a steaming tureen. “I thought everyone would be seated. Do you want me to take the soup back to the kitchen?”

  “No, no, we’re ready to eat.” She glanced at Thomas. “Thomas and I were . . . we were . . .” She smiled apologetically. “We’ll be seated now.”

  Leaving Mrs. Seton frowning at Thomas, Monica hurried into the dining room and took a seat at the head of the table. The doctor was seated to her right and Thomas took the empty chair on her left. As Jeannie followed Mrs. Seton into the room and the soup was served, Monica caught Jane’s gaze where she sat next to their mother at the end of the table.

  Silently, Monica smiled her encouragement even though her resolve to garner the doctor’s interest faltered. How could she promise Jane anything when nothing was guaranteed? What if the doctor’s motives in his attention to Jane had nothing to do with Marksville and everything to do with genuine affection for her? Snatching her gaze from Jane’s, Monica faced him. One way or another, she had to find out. She smiled. “Is this the first time you have met the Coles, Doctor?”

  He smiled at Mrs. Coles beside him. “Indeed it is, and an absolute pleasure I must say.”

  Mrs. Coles blushed beneath the doctor’s gaze and quickly turned to her husband beside her. Monica smiled. “Well, I’m glad to be a vehicle for you getting better acquainted with some of Biddestone’s most influential residents. They are all the most lovely people, I assure you.”

  The doctor faced her, his brown gaze on her mouth. “I’m glad to be here with you, Miss Danes.”

  Monica swallowed and sensed Thomas’s hackles rise beside her. She glanced at his hand as it curled into a fist on the tabletop. The way the doctor looked at her couldn’t be denied or misinterpreted. She’d seen the same look in the eyes of gentleman patrons who’d accosted her in the theater corridors before and after performances. She touched Thomas’s ankle with her toe as a way of warning him not to do anything foolhardy.

  She forced a smile as Mrs. Seton filled their bowls. “I very much doubt there will be many more dinners at Marksville with Mama’s health as it is, so I’m glad to have invited you here tonight.”