She put her hands on her hips and said, “I only came to see how much longer you can stay.”
Colin set the head of the ax on the log and leaned on it. “I’ve got all day.”
“Good. Because I want to do some laundry, and it will take a while for everything to get washed and hung out to dry.”
“Take your time,” he said. “I’ve got plenty of wood to chop.” Then, knowing she was watching, he lifted the ax and sent it biting into the wood.
Roanna had to force herself to leave. She didn’t miss the satisfied smirk on Colin’s face before she made her escape.
Roanna put a hand to her aching back as Patty emptied the laundry tub of dirty water. Penny and Peggy were hanging the clean sheets out to dry on bushes in back of the house.
“That’s everything, m’lady,” Patty said. “I don’t think there’s another spot of dirt anywhere in the house.”
Roanna smiled and touched the tip of Patty’s nose. “Except here. I think we need to heat some more water. This time for baths.”
“Baths?” Patty said, obviously appalled. “We don’t bathe but once a week on Saturdays.”
“Today we’ll make an exception,” Roanna said.
Apparently, working side by side had removed the awe with which Patty had viewed her earlier in the day. The child continued to argue right up until the moment when Daisy dropped her skinny, squirming body into the washtub.
When the girls were finished, the boys took their turns, and finally Roanna settled the baby, Pippa, in the tub and got down on her knees to wash the child herself.
That was how Colin found her.
Her face was smudged with dirt, and several golden curls had unraveled over her nape and by her ears. She had removed her riding jacket and folded up the sleeves of her blouse so they wouldn’t get wet. From the looks of the no-longer-white linen, she had done her share of the cleaning.
Her collarless blouse was open at the throat, and he could see just the hint of her breasts. His loins tightened, and his heart began to pound. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch her.
She was crooning to the baby, and the golden-haired child was looking up at her, a smile on her face, her chubby cheeks ruddy from the warmth of the water. He imagined the child was his. That she was his.
And realized how ridiculous he was being. He could see the blisters every time she cupped her hand for water to pour over the child’s shoulder. After today, he didn’t think she would volunteer any time soon to visit a tenant with him.
He admitted now that he had been testing her. When he looked around at all she had accomplished, he could see that she had passed with flying colors. She was going to leave everything immaculate, right down to the baby, Pippa.
But gritty as her performance had been, he recognized it for what it was. This wasn’t a life she could easily adapt to. And he would be a selfish churl to ask a woman like her to give up her life of ease for him. It would be like sentencing her to a lifetime of hard labor with no chance of escape.
Roanna wasn’t aware Colin was in the room until she rose with the soaking wet baby in her arms. “All the towels are wet,” she said with a smile of chagrin. “I don’t know how I thought I was going to get her dry.”
Colin began unbuttoning his shirt, which he had put on only after he had rinsed off with a pail of water. “This ought to be dry enough.”
“I can’t take the shirt off your back,” she protested.
“Why not?”
Roanna’s tongue was caught on the roof of her mouth as Colin approached and stood next to her while he surrounded the baby with his linen shirt. She hissed in a breath as his knuckle brushed against her breast, where water had dampened her blouse.
He caught her eyes and held them as he said, “There is nothing quite as fascinating as the look of a woman’s flesh through damp cloth.”
Roanna swallowed hard. “I … uh … the baby.”
He grinned. “Hurry up and finish, Roanna. It’s time to go.”
Way past time to go, Roanna thought. “I’ll be ready as soon as I dress the baby.”
Colin waited outside for her. When she came out of the house, he saw she had removed as many signs as she could of her day’s activities. He could see the cuffs of her blouse beneath the riding jacket, which was buttoned to her neck. Her hair was tucked back into its neat bun at her nape, and her face was free of dirt.
He held his hand cupped for her to mount, and once she was in the saddle he leapt onto his horse. The whole Hepplewhite family, with the exception of Mrs. Hepplewhite, stood in front of the house to wave good-bye to them. Just before they left, Penny raced up to Roanna and tugged on her skirt.
“M’lady, please. I have something for you.”
Roanna leaned down, and Penny put a tiny doll made of rags and sticks in her hand. “I can’t take your doll, Penny.”
“But I want you to. Pansy is my best friend. I want her to live in a fine house and be waited on by servants.”
Roanna felt a lump growing in her throat. What had been a day out of time for her was a lifetime of everyday hardship for the ragtag bunch of children to whom she had already lost her heart.
“I’ll take her,” Roanna said. “Only if you promise you’ll come to visit her soon. And bring all your brothers and sisters with you.”
Penny’s jaw dropped. “Do you mean it?” she asked in a voice of breathless disbelief.
“Of course, I do,” Roanna said. “You can send a note to me when you have time to come.”
“Tomorrow.”
“What?”
“We can all come tomorrow,” Penny said, her chin upthrust pugnaciously. It was clear she didn’t believe a word of what Roanna had promised. Too few fairy tales had come true in her life.
Roanna smiled. It was a better choice than crying, which was what she felt like doing. “Pansy and I will be waiting. Would around luncheon be all right? We can all have a picnic. How does that sound?”
Penny’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “Fine. That sounds just fine.”
As they rode away Roanna wondered what her parents would think when six tenant children—or seven if Douglas came—showed up for luncheon. She knew they would understand. She felt certain that Priss would be as moved as she was by the children’s plight.
“You’ve made that child’s dream come true,” Colin said.
“I had no idea people lived like that,” Roanna confessed.
Colin turned away abruptly. Roanna had no idea what she had said to offend him, but she could see by the rigidity in his body that she had. “What did I say? What’s wrong?”
When he turned back to her, she saw the sadness in his eyes and felt a moment of stark terror. He had tested her, and she had failed. He confirmed it with the first words out of his mouth.
“That’s the difference between us, Roanna. You can’t imagine poverty and want. You can’t imagine a life where you face struggles and adversity every day. That’s how my life is, Roanna. In Texas there are so many things that can kill you. The weather, Indians, outlaws, a cattle stampede, snakes, floods, fire. It’s an untamed place where you have to fight to survive.
“That’s not the kind of life you could ever live, Roanna.”
He didn’t say any more. He didn’t have to. They rode in silence the rest of the way to Rockland Park.
Which gave Roanna time to think. She realized that for the first time in her life she felt a sense of satisfaction for a job well done. She had helped the Hepplewhites. It had been hard work, but the rewards had been more than worth the effort expended.
Colin was right, she didn’t like having blisters or having her back ache from bending over a washtub. But she wasn’t the wilting violet he seemed to think she was. She had a great deal of backbone and massive amounts of determination. She was more than a match for Colin Calloway, even in his godforsaken Texas.
Roanna caught her breath when she realized her mother was standing in the circular road that
led to the house. Her father was mounted on horseback beside her. There was no way to return home without being detected.
As she rode up to the house, her mother pointed at her, and her father turned around to look at her. At first she saw relief on his face, then, as the earl spied Colin, fury.
“Where have you been?” the earl demanded when she reached his side.
“I went riding with Mr. Calloway. We stopped to visit one of Severn’s tenants, the Hepplewhites.”
“You’ve been gone since dawn. It’s after one o’clock.”
The insinuation was there of what a man and a woman would most likely have done if left alone for all that time.
“I cleaned house,” she said defiantly. “I washed dishes and furniture and babies.” She laid the reins across her horse’s neck while she tugged off her pigskin riding gloves. She held out her hands, palm up, toward her father.
The earl took her hand and ran his thumb across the broken blisters, the patches where soap and water had roughened her hands. He turned an eye on Colin. “What were you doing all this time?”
“Chopping wood, sir. Douglas Hepplewhite is crippled for the time being. He needed some help.” He shrugged and said, “I gave it to him.”
“Very well,” the earl said, mollified. “Next time, young lady, let us know when you have some inclination to help the poor.”
“All right, Papa,” Roanna said. “The Hepplewhite children will be here tomorrow for luncheon.” She kicked her mount and headed for the stable, leaving her father staring, his jaw agape, behind her.
Colin had started to turn his horse for home when the earl stopped him. “Mr. Calloway.”
Colin reined in his mount.
“Don’t do it again.”
“Lady Roanna told me she had your permission, sir.” That was the truth, even if he knew Roanna had lied to him. “However, you needn’t worry. I’ve made it clear to Lady Roanna that I don’t think we will suit.”
With that, he turned his mount and spurred him into a lope. He didn’t plan to see Roanna on purpose again. If he ran across her accidentally, he would be polite and courteous. But he wasn’t going to pursue a relationship he knew was doomed from the start. He wasn’t that much of a fool. But he wasn’t a man who easily let go of hope.
Maybe in nine months Roanna could change.
19
Daisy was working in the rose garden, doing the fall pruning. She couldn’t believe she had been married three months. It didn’t seem possible that so much time had passed. And yet it felt as though she and Nicholas had been married forever. She had spent every night in the duke’s bed, as he had commanded her to do. She had not dared to defy him after that first night, when she had hesitated too long in her bedroom, and he had come after her.
The memory of that evening was vivid even now.
She had been standing at the window of her bedroom, dressed in a simple white cotton nightgown that buttoned up the front to the round neck and had sleeves that fell to her wrists. She looked like a virgin sacrifice to some medieval dragon. Only she was no longer a virgin, even if Nicholas did his share of breathing fire.
She heard him try the door to her room, heard his grunt of disbelief when he realized it was locked.
“Open the door, Daisy.” He spoke rather calmly, she thought, though she heard the underlying threat.
“No, Nicholas. I’ve changed my mind.”
He didn’t argue. He didn’t plead. He simply put his shoulder to the door until it crashed open.
She whirled and stood staring at him, stunned at the fact he had forced the door from the hallway, stunned at the look of violence in his eyes.
She shook her head, her eyes wide with fright.
He ignored her fear, ignored her outstretched hands, ignored her one word of protest. “No!”
“There will be no locks between us, wife,” Nicholas said as he crossed the room and jerked her into his arms.
His mouth came down without warning, capturing hers. She felt his anger and his desire. It matched her own, which flared to instant life. His kiss urged a response, and she was helpless to resist his entreaty as her body arched into his, giving everything he asked and demanding more.
“Nicholas, don’t. I don’t want—”
“Don’t lie,” he said in a harsh voice. “I’m not the idiot you must think me. Your body tells me what you really want.”
She had feared it would be like this, that she would be swept up by emotion and carried away by pleasure. Nicholas was a man who knew his way around a woman’s body. She was a lamb being devoured by the big bad wolf. His mouth latched on to her breast. She groaned as he suckled her through the damp cotton. His hand came up to cup her other breast, and he grazed the tip with his thumb. His other hand slipped down between her legs and pressed the soft cloth against the dew that had formed between her thighs.
Daisy cried out with surprise and anguished pleasure. He found a place she hadn’t even known existed and began to caress her body. She fought the moan that tore its way free. He showed her no mercy, his hands and mouth driving her toward the pinnacle of desire.
She was gasping, sobbing, unable to breathe or speak as her body convulsed with ecstasy. His chest was still heaving, his body still hard and unsatisfied as he lifted her into his arms, unlocked the connecting door, and headed through the door to his room. He stopped long enough to turn the key on the connecting door, locking it behind him, then carried her over and dumped her on his bed.
It wasn’t as soft as her own. She rubbed her abused derriere while she glared at him through narrowed eyes. “Haven’t you had enough?”
His eyes had a feral light. “I haven’t even begun.”
He began to strip right in front of her. She should have been embarrassed. She chose instead to stare him into embarrassment.
It didn’t work. Nicholas didn’t have a modest bone in his body, and it was easy to see why he didn’t mind showing it off. He sat to take off his boots, then stood and dragged off his coat before he went to work on his cravat. The waistcoat came next, then his linen shirt.
His chest was broad and muscular, browned by the sun and covered with a wealth of crisp black hair. His belly rippled with muscle and a line of down led her eyes to narrow hips.
He was aroused and made no effort to hide the fact. His shaft stood intimidatingly amid a nest of black curls. He turned his back on her to throw his trousers on a chair, giving her a splendid view of lean flanks and firm buttocks. She had never paid much attention to the male body in the past, mostly because Tony had come to her in the dark. It was impossible to ignore the sheer physical perfection of the man who stood before her.
Something of what she was feeling must have shown in her eyes because he grinned recklessly and said, “If you see anything you like, help yourself.”
Daisy turned her back on him and crossed her arms, which was when she felt the wetness where he had suckled her breast. The nipple was plainly visible through the damp cloth. He must have been ogling her the whole time, she realized with a feeling somewhere between thrill and alarm.
She looked back over her shoulder to chastise him and found he had settled on the bed behind her on his knees. His arms circled her, and he captured her breasts with his hands.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are, Daisy?” he murmured.
She shivered as he bit the lobe of her ear. “If we’re going to pass out compliments, I suppose I should remark on what a fine male specimen you are,” she retorted.
“I’m glad you like what you see.”
Daisy harrumphed, then gasped as his mouth slid from her ear to her throat. The way he was holding her, there was no way she could touch him.
“Nicholas, please.”
“What is it you want, Daisy? Do you want to touch, too?” he whispered.
The words were torn from her. “Yes. Yes, Nicholas, I do.”
He turned her on the bed to face him, then brought her legs around his thighs and lifted her in
to his lap so they were seated facing each other. “Go ahead, Daisy,” he said. “Touch to your heart’s content.”
She kept her eyes focused on what she touched. His shoulders first, warm and hard. The crisp hairs on his chest. The flat male nipple that peaked much as her own had at a touch. She leaned forward and put her mouth against his skin to taste him. She felt him shudder as her hand slid across his belly and down between the two of them before sliding back up and around his neck.
She drew his head down toward her own and took his mouth in a kiss of possession as fierce as any he had given her. He was hers … for a while. She wanted memories for the long days and nights when he would not be there to keep her warm. Physical sensations bombarded her. She fought the emotional response that also threatened. Fought it and won.
She had loved once before and been destroyed when Tony rejected her. She wouldn’t allow that to happen again. She would protect herself from that sort of devastation by simply not allowing herself to feel anything except the pure physical pleasure of giving herself to Nicholas and taking him in return.
He wasn’t a patient lover, at least not the first time. He lifted her and impaled her and drove them both to climax.
Enervated, he lowered them both until they were lying entwined side by side, their bodies still joined.
“Don’t ever try to lock me out again, Daisy,” he warned in a raw voice.
Her hand threaded through his damp hair and brushed it off his brow. “I won’t lock any doors,” she conceded aloud. But there were other barriers she had put into place to protect herself. Barriers that he couldn’t see, and thus presumably couldn’t break down.
He made love to her twice more during the night, arousing her to aching passion and then satisfying them both. There was a sense of urgency, of desperation to his lovemaking that she recognized all too well.
It hadn’t gone away in the three months they had been married. She gave him her body, but not her heart and soul. He had recognized that dichotomy and had sought, with passion, to take what she would not give him. He had been frustrated, she knew, by the lack of some element in their couplings. But he never voiced a specific complaint, and she never offered an explanation beyond the one she had initially given him.
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