by Glenda Diana
At Thorton's quick nod, Lucas left the room.
“He'll have to go. My son won't tolerate unfaithfulness.”
Thorton turned. “You're not suggesting Lucas is my lover, are you?”
“It's plain to see he loves you. He's practically your damn shadow. Do you deny his love?”
“He has always loved me.”
“Are you still a virgin?”
Thorton's face turned hot. “You are as rude as your son. It must run in the family. Bitter dispositions and arrogance a-plenty.”
“Finally a sign of maidenliness, even if only a small sign. It's only fair to warn you, seeing as how you did doctor me, that when and if my son decides to claim his rights, he will not be happy to find your maidenhead absent. If he does ... well, I would not want to be your guardian.”
“And what will be his reaction when he finds me a virgin?”
Roger's blue eyes ran over the woman standing before him. “It would be my guess...”
“Never mind, Lord Bradley. Even then, Blake will not be happy.”
“Let's discuss your love for Lucas.”
“The subject of Lucas and myself is closed. Maybe, once you and I get better acquainted, I will tell you the story. Then you will see how ridiculous your insinuations are.”
Roger gave a mental sigh. Let the chit discover her own follies, he thought, clamping his lips firmly shut. She would soon see the error of her ways.
“Now, no more sour looks,” Thorton stated, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I promise your son will not be ... disappointed ... when and if he beds me.”
“That confidant, are you?”
“Yes. Now, I believe, I know the prefect story to tell you.”
“Wait, I have one more question.”
“I won't promise an answer.”
“Since you walked into the library this morning, I have been plagued with a question. To say that your father and I were acquainted is a strange statement in itself, but ... Well, damn it all. No offense, but your father was as ugly as they come. How did the old craggy face bastard manage to sire a girl with your looks?”
Thorton laughed. “I guess that was a compliment”
“Now is not the time for conceit.”
“Since you asked so nicely ... other than my eyes, I look much like my mother.”
“So the old bastard did find himself a beauty.”
“Excuse me?”
Roger waved his hand in the air as if brushing away his comment. “Get on with your story. But, no sissy stuff.”
Thorton pressed her hand to her chest. “Why, sir, I wouldn't dream of telling you anything so drab. Instead I shall tell you the victorious adventures of the Black Knight.”
Chapter Five
The wedding feast was spread over the dining room table. Griggs stood at his usual station near the door. He watched as the silent couple ate. Occasionally one of them would cast a quick glance at the other, but then would swiftly look away in fear of being caught.
Griggs was aware of how Blake felt, still, never had he been so proud of Blake as he had been today. Even when the young man had gone off to war the feelings that had filled him then had been fear and worry, the same feelings he felt whenever Blake ventured into London.
But today had been different. Today he watched the man he had raised from a squalling infant stand tall as he honored a deed that was not of his doing. He had listened intently when Blake's deep voice rumbled to the rafters as he repeated his vows, bringing tears to an old man's eyes. Yes, Griggs thought, finally he had gotten what he had been hoping for.
Thorton's gaze moved to where her husband sat in brooding silence. Was he purposely trying to make her feel uncomfortable? Most likely. From the time of his hasty departure from Roger's room she had not seen him again until entering the dining room.
She wasn't sure how she felt about the way he had sent Griggs to escort her to dinner. Had he meant the slight to be an insult? If so, she didn't let on that it bothered her. Instead she had entered the room with her chin raised and a smile plastered on her face.
After taking a sip of wine, Thorton sighed as she leaned back in her chair and patted her stomach. “I don't remember ever eating so much in all my life.” She smiled. “It was beautiful. The whole day has been lovely. Griggs, you're a gem to have accomplished so much in so little time.”
Blake raised his glass to avoid looking at Thorton. It had been a fine day, if one could look at it in such a way. He could not. He was married. Now would come the hard part, learning how to survive. Could he? That question had taunted him throughout the day.
Earlier, when Thorton had entered his father's room on the arm of her guardian, Blake had immediately felt her presence. His breath had lodged within him when he feasted his eyes upon her. Then he had noticed the way her hand clung to the handsome giant at her side.
He remembered the look she'd given him when she realized the cause of his irritation, and the way she'd removed her hand and stepped forward ... to him. He had to admit, her actions had pleased him.
A small voice inside reminded him of the tingles of conceit that had swept over him as she recited her vows. There was so much to be settled if they were to successfully get through this year. Not that he really cared whether they succeeded. All he wanted was to get this year over with and get on with his life.
Just because they had taken this step did not mean the rest was going to be easy. On top of Blake's mental list of problems were his feelings toward her. He'd hated her from the time he'd signed the damned contract. But now there was a new set of complications. He felt passion for her, a consuming heat ... and desire.
He still did not trust her. She had agreed to everything too quickly. It was she who'd said she wanted to marry him. But, why? The only thing he could do was bide his time. He would know it all before the year was out, before he sent her back to the lair she called home.
The day had seemed to drag by after the wedding. While Thorton stayed in Roger's room, having lunch with his sire and telling him a story, Blake had toiled in his study, trying to keep his mind on the accounts he was supposed to be tallying. When dinner was announced, he'd felt a wave of relief wash over him; the day was nearly at an end. Just a few more hours and he could claim he had made it through his first day.
Now, chimes from the hall clock marked the hour as nine. Pushing back his chair, he came to his feet and made his way to Thorton's side. “Come,” he said, holding out his hand.
Thorton looked at the outstretched hand for a moment before placing her own in his. Her heart slammed against her ribs as they climbed the stairs. What would happen? she wondered nervously. Her heart rate increased as they neared her chamber. The manly scent of him teased her taut senses, making her hands tremble and her knees weak.
Blake opened her bedroom door and waited for her to enter. At the sight of the pink blush spreading down her face and across her chest he wondered what thoughts were playing through her head. Images of her lush body twined with his made his pulse leap.
One oil-scented lamp burned in the far corner, filling the room with a mild rose fragrance. The low flame in the hearth cast the room in a soft glow. Griggs had thoroughly done his job. The tea tray had been placed on a table and a decanter of brandy sat next to it.
Blake poured Thorton a cup of tea, then poured himself a finger of brandy. Taking a seat next to her on the settee, he tried to dismiss the skittish feelings playing havoc with his insides. Again, he felt like a green boy instead of an experienced man.
“We need to talk,” he stated, watching the flames dance in the hearth, fearing to look at her lest the plan he had so carefully formulated was forgotten. He could not allow his body, or his desire, rule him.
Thorton looked at him. The dry, dull sound of his voice doubled her nervousness. She hadn't known what to expect in her room, but having a ‘talk’ had not crossed her mind.
Blake cleared his throat. “Thorton, I think it best if we discuss a few things.” He
was pleased when his voice came out sounding less harsh, gentler.
Thorton thought it too gentle. She had a feeling this discussion would not be to her liking. Her first clue was the way he had used her name in that soft, tender, rather calculating tone. She took a sip of tea, hoping it would give her courage to hear him out. “What things?”
He was silent for a moment before turning toward her. It was a mistake. His mouth suddenly went dry and the beating of his heart increased. Quickly, he turned away. But it was too late ... the image of her was burned into his mind.
Again he cleared his throat. “I think it best if we kept this relationship on an impersonal level. It would not be wise if we let other ... matters ... get involved.”
Thorton sat her cup on the tray, then folded her hands in her lap. Keeping her eyes lowered, she took several deep breaths. Her fingers turned white in an effort not to strangle the bloody fool. His discomfort was easy to detect, from the set of his hard jaw to his stiff manner.
“What other matters are you referring to?” She congratulated herself on sounding calm.
“I think we should consider all the aspects.”
Thorton knew exactly what aspects he was talking about. “I believe you think too much.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Is there anything else you wish to ... discuss?”
His body quivered at the sound of her whisper. “I thought to ask about something you'd mentioned yesterday.” He paused to place his empty glass on the tray. God, he never realized how hard it would be trying to keep his eyes averted from her.
Thorton waited. She was disappointed, but she'd be damned before letting him know it. How would he feel if she treated him with a dose of aloofness? No, she thought, giving herself a mental shake; she was awful at playing standoffish and haughty. She had too much compassion for others than to treat them in such a manner.
“You mentioned something about a goal.” Blake gave an uncaring shrug.
She wasn't fooled by his nonchalant attitude. It mattered to him. Her pulse increased as a plan took shape. She rested her hand on his arm. “It's nothing detestable. Just a wish I've had for many years.” She felt his arm tense.
Sweat broke out across Blake's forehead. He felt the heat of her palm clear down to his toes. He had the urge to pull free, but didn't. Instead he tried to keep his mind on the subject. It was torture trying to ignore the consuming hunger gnawing at him. If he were smart he'd forget the whole blasted thing, but then he never claimed to be that smart.
“Would you share this wish with me?”
“I would share everything with you.”
Blake jumped to his feet as though a bolt of lightening had struck him. His heart slammed within his chest at her softly spoken words. The idiot woman was making this difficult. Did she not perceive what he was trying to do? That he was not just thinking of himself, but of her, too? All he had wanted was solitude ... and now, to stay as far away from her as possible. But, in the process, he was doing her a favor. She should be down on her knees thanking him. Not only was he saving her from disgrace, but also she would leave his house as pure as she came. Then if she wished to remarry someday, she could.
Blake closed his eyes. Remarry? God, he was insane. He didn't care about her silly wish. He didn't care about anything. It wasn't like he had come to her; she was the one who had chased him down. Why had she not left well enough alone? Why did she have to show up and demand the contract be fulfilled? And why in the hell could she not have been ugly?
Mentally, he repeated the three words that would supply him with sanity ... just for one year. For now, he had to get away from his enemy temptress.
Thorton watched his agitated movements. If she didn't act fast, she knew she'd lose what little advantage her statement had achieved. He resembled a cornered animal. His next step might be retreat and that she could not allow. In one smooth move she was up and moving toward him, effectively cutting off his escape.
“If I told you my secret, you would laugh at me.” When he remained silent, she placed her hand on his rock-hard chest. The pounding of his heart against her palm gave her courage. “It's a childish wish. I wouldn't want you to view me as a simpleton.” At her light teasing, she felt the muscles beneath her palm relax.
“I already do.”
Thorton laughed. “You wound me, Baron. Can I hope at least you put me at the top of this less-than-flattering list instead of at the bottom?”
“Too late.” At her expression of teasing outrage, he laughed and abruptly ended it.
His laughter made her lighthearted. To hear such a sweet sound coming from this fierce man, and the knowledge that she had caused it, brought a penetrating warmth to her body. “Let me get to know you better. That way, I'm telling a friend who will understand my puerile dreams. Although, I warn you, I don't look upon them as childish.”
In small degrees, Blake began to relax. He understood her fears. How innocent of her to hold on to dreams and wishes from girlhood. The word ‘innocent’ brought back memories ... the feel of her, the taste of her on his lips. All day he had tried to block out the recollections, but failed. “It is getting late.”
“Don't forget to check on your father.”
“I won't. I never did thank you for nursing him.”
“There's no need.”
“You impressed me. You handled his anger admirably. Once again I misjudged you. You had him wrapped around your finger in no time.” Although Blake tried, he couldn't keep the disgust from his voice. This woman had some powerful magic. She could cast and weave her spells within the space of a heartbeat.
“It bothers you that your father, the one who instilled in you this dislike for me, has had a change of heart.” She wished she could pull back the words when his face turn hard.
“Madame, he did not inject dislike. Try hate. Hate for all Lynwoods, starting with the father and working its way down.” Blake stepped around her to leave as the memory of his father simpering over a Lynwood, the enemy, filled him with sick rage ... and a feeling of betrayal.
Thorton touched his sleeve, realizing it was a puny attempt to stop a man of his size. But she couldn't let him leave like this, not on their wedding night.
He closed his eyes against her touch. Why did she have to be one of those people who felt the need to talk? Above everything-her annoying habit of twisting his words, her unladylike attire-he hated this flaw most.
“Don't hate me,” she whispered and turned away. “I'm sorry. I have no right to ask that. My father constructed the contract. My father entrapped you. Unfortunately, he didn't stop to think what he would be purchasing with his hated bargain, that it would be I who'd have to answer for his crimes. Perhaps he didn't care.”
Standing before the hearth, she tried to chase away the chill traveling through her body. It wasn't the chill of the room, but the chill deep within herself. What a fool she had been. Upon awakening, she had thought today would be perfect. But now, in reflection, the day had seemed to last three times as long, only to end so miserably.
“Good night, Blake.”
On the way to his room, Blake repeatedly told himself he was doing the right thing. No matter how much she inflamed his body, she was still his enemy, still Duke Robert's daughter. In time he would learn to control his lust.
But for now, his raging lust needed appeasement. He turned toward the stairway. Damned if he would let the bewitching she-devil drive him to the breaking point. Not when the Partridge and Hound Inn was less than five mile away. Along with serving all the ale a man could hold, it also supplied the comfort of willing barmaids, or so Thomas, the stable master, had bragged.
That was all that was wrong with him, he told himself as he left the house. He had gone too long without slaking his lust. It was time he took care of his needs, time he released his pent-up aggressions before he did something stupid, like take his wife to bed.
* * * *
Thorton stood by her window and watched as the rider rode ou
t of the yard as if a pack of demons was on his tail. Female curiosity got the best of her; she couldn't help wonder where Blake was going in such a hurry. A second rider left just seconds after the first. She turned away. There was nothing she could do except wait. It wouldn't have done any good to tell Lucas not to follow Blake. Lucas had a mind of his own and his first concern had always been to look after her.
Nothing seemed to be turning out right. Maybe, she was a bigger fool than she was willing to admit. Maybe, she should have stayed at home and ignored the contract? Maybe, it was time to place away her childish wishes and face the world ... a world where men like her husband lived. Slowly, painfully, she felt the exterior of her fantasies begin cracking under the heavy pressure of reality.
After stepping behind the dressing screen, she changed into her nightgown. She could fret to no end and still have no answers until Lucas returned. Perhaps Blake was like her. Perhaps a cool ride helped him sleep better. How many times had she and Lucas rode off to explore the world of darkness when she was growing up? How many times had they shared a picnic beneath the stars? Thorton knew she was grasping at every excuse her mind could form, but she couldn't stop. It was less torturous, less painful.
An hour later a knock sounded on her door. She was not surprised to find Lucas. Deep in his brown eyes she saw anger. He was waiting for her to make a decision. Part of her wanted to shut the door, to hide beneath the cover of stupidity. But the other part, the part that had braved the worse and survived, wouldn't let her.
“Well?” he growled.
His attitude pointed to only one thing; the news would not be to her liking. Biting her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, she nodded.
“He's at the Partridge and Hound Inn.”
There had to be more. If Blake had gone for a simple drink, Lucas wouldn't be so angry.
“After ordering a bottle of the finest brandy, the bastard picked out a comely wench and practically dragged her up the stairs.”