“Mr. Smith—”
“She found most of her staff in the slums,” he said, interrupting Gideon as if his comment was of no consequence. “Taking them in when others had given up hope that they would ever be part of genteel society.” He glanced at the house. Only a few of those many, many windows were lit. Most were on the third floor where the servants slept. “Cutthroats, thieves…you name it, they have all found a home with Mrs. Ashton.”
He shook his head, apparently finding the company she kept as ridiculous as Gideon. His gaze went immediately to Elizabeth’s window, where the glass remained dark, the curtains closed. Dear God, forget her mother-in-law, the woman would probably be murdered by her staff.
“They’re all good deep down, Mr. Smith, she says.” He released a wry laugh, as if he knew better.
Gideon didn’t find amusement in the conversation at all. No, he didn’t find it amusing that Mr. Smith was warning him off. And he sure as hell didn’t find it amusing that Elizabeth had surrounded herself with thieves and cutthroats. But mostly he didn’t find it amusing that their conversation was getting too deep and much too personal. “What’s your point?” Gideon growled.
Mr. Smith’s gaze flashed to him. “My point is that she thinks everyone has a bit of a soul. She believes everyone can be saved because she was saved.”
“She should hardly place herself in the same position as a thief.”
“I agree. She’s kind, caring, smart as hell.” Mr. Smith sighed. “She wasn’t well, you know. The children were starving, she hadn’t a pence to her name. Fortunately Mr. Ashton came along just in time. I’d hate to think about what she might have done otherwise.”
Would she have stolen food and ended up in Newgate? Prostituted herself and ended up somewhere much, much worse? His hands fisted against his thighs. He wouldn’t care. “Why are you telling me this?”
Mr. Smith stood. “Because she believed in me when no one else did.”
Suddenly, it hit him. Gideon stood, irritation spurring him forward. “You’re in love with her.”
The realization infuriated him for some unknown reason. An image of Mr. Smith and Elizabeth embracing in this very garden flashed to mind. The picture brought with it a cold and stark reality he didn’t wish to visit.
Mr. Smith laughed, a forced sound. “No. She’s merely a friend…family. But I protect my family, no matter what the cost.”
So, he thought Gideon would hurt her. Perhaps he would. Gideon sank onto the bench, letting the warning wash over him, knowing he deserved the harsh comment. Hadn’t he hurt so many others?
“No, Gideon.” Lucy’s miserable face came to mind. “It’s too late. I’m dead because of you.”
Aye, women came to him because they sensed the beast within, but they didn’t know how truly coldhearted he was. Even now he could imagine the shock and horror in Elizabeth’s eyes if she uncovered the truth about him. But she would never know, he’d make sure of it.
“Just remember my warning,” Mr. Smith said. “You might be as tall as an oak, and might have had your own scuffles at one time, but I too grew up in the slums, and it’s been a good while since you’ve had that pretty-boy face touched by a fist.”
Gideon snorted dryly at the threat, watching the man stroll away. He’d have Mr. Smith out cold with one punch. But Mr. Smith didn’t realize that Lady Lavender often had them spar to keep in shape and to amuse her. Gideon hadn’t lost a match yet. But Mr. Smith’s threat was the least of his problems. The man could curse Gideon all he wanted; he had other things on his mind.
As Gideon watched him enter the house he realized a few interesting things. One, there was a reason he was here. After all, Elizabeth could use her Mr. Smith to scare off her mother-in-law, so why did she want him? Two, Mr. Smith might deny it, but he was obviously a little bit in love with Elizabeth. And three, and most distressing of all, Gideon didn’t like it…didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter 9
Elizabeth paced the large rose garden, unable to sit, unable to eat, unable to do anything but dwell on Gideon. Three days. For three long days now he’d avoided her.
How could any man, any person, for that matter, be so bloody infuriating? Every time she believed he might actually have a bit of a heart, he proved her wrong. How stupid to think they could settle into marital bliss. Stupid to think he could actually grow to care for her. It was obvious by the way he’d scurried from the creek that he wanted nothing to do with her or her family.
Hell, he’d watched the children as if observing some primitive tribe he didn’t quite understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Then again, he hadn’t said a single biting remark. He hadn’t proclaimed that he was in charge, nor made the children cry. And he hadn’t even called her a whore. Perhaps there was hope after all.
“Elizabeth, did ye hear me?”
She glanced briefly at Will, who was lounging on a stone bench, enjoying the warm day. His cheerful gaze was a bit too discerning for her peace of mind. She crossed her arms over the light green muslin she wore. Although the day was warm, she felt chilled. “I’m sorry, what?”
He dropped his leg, swinging it back and forth. “I said—”
“You’ve been acting strangely ever since you brought that handsome man home,” Sarah interrupted.
She watched Elizabeth through shrewd eyes that belied her age. Settled underneath the only tree in the garden, the young woman was attempting to keep her skin pale. She’d found the chambermaid while in France when Sarah had been but fifteen and attempting to sell herself on the street to purchase food for her family. In the past few years the maid had grown only more beautiful and into an even bigger flirt.
Yes, her staff was a rowdy, uncultured bunch, but they were her family, her friends, and marrying Gideon would not only save the children but her household as well. She’d promised every single servant that she would take care of them. They needed her. She could not let them down. But how? How would she marry a man who couldn’t even spend five minutes in her company before fleeing? Not even Mr. Smith’s arrival had made her feel any better.
Elizabeth forced herself to concentrate. “Am not acting strangely.”
Sarah lifted a blonde brow. “Are too.”
She bit back her response, realizing she sounded like a perturbed child. Gideon had turned her into a crazed woman. But she hadn’t expected the household to notice. Blimey, what a mess she’d made of everything.
She hadn’t seen Gideon and she could admit to herself that she was avoiding the man as much as he was avoiding her. Perhaps he was ashamed of his behavior. Ha, more likely Sarah had been keeping him company and he’d had no use for her. All of her plotting, all of her scheming would be for naught if the blasted man wouldn’t agree to stay. She spun around and paced to a yellow rosebush. She had less than a fortnight. Time was running out.
“All I want to know,” Sarah said with a dramatic sigh, “is if you’re tupping him.”
Will chuckled.
Elizabeth flushed, thanking God her back was to them and they wouldn’t see how uncomfortable Sarah’s question made her. Tupping, no. But she had been thoroughly tupped, and yes, perhaps she often thought about that one night and wondered if there would ever be another. The fact that she dreamt of being intimate with the man only confirmed her suspicion…she’d gone mad.
“Well, he’s right handsome. With that dangerous air…”
“Go on,” Will muttered, obviously annoyed. The poor lad had been lusting after Sarah for the last year. The beautiful maid had her sights set on more manly pursuits, and Gideon was most definitely manly.
Sarah sighed. “I’m just saying that if yer not interested, I am.”
Elizabeth spun around, a flare of irrational jealousy springing to life. “You will not sleep with the man.”
Sarah crossed her arms over her ample bosom and smirked. For a brief moment Elizabeth wondered if Gideon would prefer the maid. After all, Sarah was younger than Elizabeth, and much, much prettier. Being French
, the girl had been born knowing how to flirt while Elizabeth found herself more apt to offend than seduce when faced with a handsome gent. She shook off the unsettling thought. It didn’t matter who Gideon preferred. He could be intimate with all of England as long as he married her.
“Why?” Sarah asked, pouting.
“Because…because it’s unprofessional!”
She grinned. “Not if he wants it.”
“Sarah,” Elizabeth snapped, so irritated by the image of the two of them entangled in the sheets that she felt ready to breathe fire.
“All right.” The maid held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t touch your man.”
Her man? Gads, was she that obvious? Did everyone know she was attracted to Gideon? And she was, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. He could make her weak-kneed with a glance. She pressed her fingers to her lips, thinking of their kisses. Yes, she’d been kissed before, she’d even been attracted to the baker’s son as a young lady living in London, but she had never ever felt the aching need she felt when she was with Gideon.
“As I was saying,” Will interrupted her musings, his young face pinched with annoyance. “We’ll double up on guards, make ’em look like they’re just servants so no one suspects anything. Gideon won’t be able to leave without someone knowing about it.”
Elizabeth nodded, distracted by her own troubling thoughts. It wasn’t just his kisses though. That, she could avoid. It was those brief, very brief, glimpses of humanity that pulled at her weak heart. For the short time she’d been with Gideon she couldn’t stop thinking about him. That hard body, his musky scent, those rough hands moving over her smooth thighs…the way he had saved her that first day, putting himself in harm’s way. He’d been a gentleman. Had it been a lapse, or could he truly be the man she needed?
“Speak of the devil,” Sarah muttered.
A shiver of unease raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck, a warning. This was her home, damn it all, so why did she suddenly feel like fleeing? She spun around, not in the least surprised to see Gideon striding down the path directly toward her. Gideon. He had made her uneasy, made her question her very mission. Worst of all, he’d made her feel an attraction that was altogether unholy.
Will and Sarah scurried to their feet, showing Gideon respect she should have been given. Not that it mattered; the man completely ignored them, focusing his steel eyes on her. And she felt his gaze all the way to her soul.
“We need to speak,” he snapped out.
Elizabeth’s heart pounded fiercely in her chest. Did he know? Had he guessed her secret? There was a determination in his gaze that said he knew something. “Very well.” She forced her attention to Will and Sarah. “Leave us, please.”
Sarah stepped close to her. “Tu es sûre que tu veux que je te laisse toute seule?”
Are you sure you want me to leave? Of course she wasn’t sure.
She nodded, sliding Gideon a quick glance before refocusing on Sarah. “Oui, il sera difficile de lui séduire si tu restes ici.” It would be hard to seduce Gideon with the woman in attendance.
And she would seduce him…again. The truth of the matter was that she had accepted his proposition, as disrespectful as it had been, because she needed him here. And yes, as much as she was loath to admit it, she wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to make her reach heaven as he had that night at the inn. Just the thought of his hands on her body made her mouth go dry, her soul cry out.
She was barely aware when Will and Sarah headed toward the house. When Gideon appeared, she was rarely aware of anyone but him. He wore the clothing she’d purchased for him. A dark green waistcoat under a dark brown jacket and tan trousers that hugged his muscled thighs.
“Yes, let’s talk,” Elizabeth said breathlessly. Did he think of their night at the inn? Did he want her as much as she wanted him? She would soon find out.
She started across the garden toward the back of the grounds where they could find some privacy, ignoring the dark skies slowly encroaching. “Shall we walk? It’s such a lovely day.”
She could only pray that he followed. There were so many things to tell him, so many things to keep from him. It was a fine balance of truth and lies that she wove and she could only pray she could juggle them both. Moments later she felt his presence behind her. That shiver over her skin, that tightness in her chest as if she couldn’t quite draw breath. She feared she would always know him merely by the reaction of her body.
She kept her footsteps slow and sure, finding the path that led into the woods with ease. A low rumble of thunder shook the ground. Having traveled the forest enough, she knew every inch of the land. “Just over the hill.”
A carpet of bluebells spread across the forest like a fairyland. A magical place, far removed from the pretentiousness of London. Here they could live in ease, if only her mother-in-law would leave them in peace. She ducked underneath a low-hanging oak branch and glanced behind her. Gideon was looking around warily, as if he didn’t trust the woods. He acted like a wild animal that had been locked away for years, only to be set free.
“I do so love to be outside in the forest.” He didn’t respond, but she wasn’t one to give in so easily. “In the woods I am not a poor chambermaid from London. The trees do not look down their noses at me.” She laughed, amused by her own silly thoughts. “I’m just…me, and the butterflies and flowers accept my station in life without question.”
He didn’t respond, but he didn’t tell her to cease her prattle or walk away either, as she’d expected. Perhaps he regretted leaving her the other day at the creek. Perhaps she was making some progress with the man after all. Yes, they had a physical relationship, there was no doubt. But could they have more?
For a few minutes they were silent, continuing their trek until the estate was no longer visible and they were hidden by the woods, surrounded by whispering leaves and sweet-smelling flowers. When she heard the soft murmur of the water, she tried once more to draw him into conversation.
“I was born not far from here, you know. But my mother decided we should try our hands at the city, and we moved to London when I was but ten.” She shivered, partly from the sudden cold breeze and partly from the memories. “It was dreadful being poor in the city. Dirty. Crowded. At least in the countryside we could hunt a rabbit for food. In the city there were only rats. I found the flavor lacking.”
He didn’t respond. She slid him a glance, wondering if he felt any sort of empathy at hearing her story, for she knew it was similar to his. A different city, perhaps, but the same sort of life. Lack of coins, food, shelter. Desperation. His face showed no emotion, hidden within the shadows.
Undaunted, she hopped across the stone pathway that led through the creek. “My sister was my only sibling. When she died, I felt so very guilty, as if I should have protected her.”
Gideon didn’t cross the creek but stood there glaring at her from the other side. “Is there a point to your chatter, my lady?”
Of course! She turned away from him and moved toward a cropping of yellow daisies. She had a feeling he used that creek as a wall to separate them. Much like Mr. Smith, Gideon obviously didn’t wish to be close to anyone. It made her feel very sad indeed. She furrowed her brow, hoping she looked confused. “Do I have a point?”
“What is the purpose of our conversation?” he demanded, arms crossed over that broad chest. He didn’t understand and the man hated not having control. She, at least, understood him well enough.
She plucked a daisy from its stem and placed the flower behind her ear. “My point is that I know what it’s like to lose family, to lose your sibling, your parents. Henry and Mouse have already lost most of their family. I will not allow them to lose anyone else.”
“Really? And are you God? Can you prevent that from happening?”
She smiled, turning toward him. “Here, perhaps I am.”
It was a sacrilegious thing to say, and she was surprised lightning didn’t strike her dead.
Surely Mr. Ashton would have laughed at such a bold comment. But Gideon merely glared as she moved across those stepping stones, heading back toward him.
Reaching the bank, she paused, took the flower from her hair, and placed it in the top buttonhole of his jacket. He stiffened, his lips a tight line of utter outrage. Her shoulder brushed his as she moved past, waiting, hoping, praying that he’d follow. When she heard the distinct thump of his footsteps on the forest floor, she smiled secretly to herself. Nervousness and excitement combined. He might not like her, but he was intrigued enough.
She took in a deep breath and released it between pursed lips. “If your offer still stands, I will accept.”
“What offer?”
He was closer than she thought. When she turned, she was surprised to see that he stood only a breath away. The flower was gone. Watching her through wary eyes, he propped his shoulder against an oak tree. He might not like her, and he did a rather thorough job of letting her know, but he wanted her. Yes, she noticed the way he boldly studied her body, the way his nostrils flared ever so slightly when she was near, the way his hands fisted as if he resisted the urge to touch her.
“You are in control. You tell me when you want to be intimate, and I will come to your bed. In exchange, you’ll protect us.” In exchange, he’ll stay here, hopefully come to appreciate them, come to care.
He quirked a dark brow. “How wonderful of you to accept.”
“Please rethink your former rejection.”
He hadn’t sounded happy about it, and she knew that he was going to reject her proposition once more and probably quite rudely. A low rumble of thunder shook the skies. Was it a warning? Elizabeth didn’t dare glance away from him to check the weather. A soft breeze swept through the woods, whipping her hair and skirts around her in a whirlwind and sending his musky scent her way.
“Oui, il sera difficile de lui séduire si tu restes ici,” he said, repeating the words she’d said earlier. Repeating them in a wonderful French accent as if…as if he actually understood what they meant. A cold chill washed over her body. She knew in that moment her ruse was up. Oh God, he knew she’d planned to seduce him. What else did he know?
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