by Glenda Diana
Roger also knew the seed of hate he had planted years ago had ripened at a raging growth. Griggs had always been a fountain of information. When Roger had first started teaching Blake to hate all Lynwood's, Griggs had continuously warned him of his mistake, but Roger wouldn't listen.
It was no secret Griggs didn't care much for Roger, but he did Blake. And although Roger disliked having to say anything nice about the arrogant butler, he had to admit Griggs had been correct. Roger cast a shy glance at Thorton. Yes, it would seem they were the fortunate ones. His thoughts stopped abruptly when Blake reached for the crystal bowl in the center of the table. Jumping to his feet, Roger snatched the bowl from his son's hands and frowned.
“I won't be having you slam this about,” he stated, cradling the bowl to his chest. “This was your mother's favorite.” Carefully, he placed it well out of Blake's reach and retook his seat. “What has your personality so sparkling tonight? Would it be the Incident with Thomas?” He was somewhat surprised when Blake's angry expression faded into a smile. Roger looked at his daughter-in-law in time to see her mild features turn into a deep scowl, cast directly at him.
He had waited hours for Thorton to tell him her version of the scuttle in the yard. Griggs had told him only the major points. Roger knew that, with Thorton's telling, it would be like being there. But, Griggs took great joy in informing him that Thorton and Blake were closed up in her chamber. Roger shrugged; it was none of his business what they did.
He squinted at Blake. “I asked you a question. Or am I too old to listen to?”
Blake shot his father a hot glare. “Since when has your knowledge, your opinion, and/or your judgment been so great? Shall I point out a few facts I have listened to and was sorely misguided?”
Stunned by the fury, uncoiling like that of a deadly snake, Roger sank further into his chair. Of course, the boy was right. It was just painful to hear the facts aloud. He should have kept silent. What his son did, or what he chose to do, was his own business. What a fool I am ... an old fool, Roger thought, as he looked away. It probably would have been best if he had stayed on the third floor, out of the way. His pitiful thoughts died when an arm slid around his shoulder. His gaze shot up to meet with molten gold.
“Pay no attention. He's just upset with me,” Thorton stated, kneeling at Roger's side.
Her heart went out to him. A person would have to have blind, or stupid, not to see the hurt Blake's words had caused. Thorton knew Roger was to blame for many of the things wrong between herself and Blake, but still she couldn't stand to see his feelings bruised. Glancing at Blake, she frowned, and hugged Roger tighter.
“Why is he upset with you?” Roger whispered. “It ain't over the Incident, is it?”
Thorton turned her frown on Roger. “I don't wish to talk about that ... ever. As to why Blake is upset, he has graciously granted me a wedding gift of my choosing and I'm afraid it was a choice he didn't like.” At Roger's look of confusion, she explained. “He has granted me a trip to London.”
Roger groaned aloud. No wonder Blake was in a rotten mood. Blake hated the social whirl and its pompous people. Both had left their marks on him.
Blake watched the way Thorton placated his father. How had he gotten into this mess was beyond him. Again he thought of the magic she seemed to possess. He was not sure if she had used her witchery or not. He had been in full control of their conversation this afternoon. Where and when his control had disappeared, he could not recall.
They had been lying in her bed, sweat glistening on their bodies, sheets and clothing tangled around them, and it was in those moments of contentment and relaxation he had almost fallen asleep. All that it had taken to bring him fully awake was a few words spoken in the husky, sated voice of hers. Unfortunately, they were the wrong words.
“The Hampture's are having a grand fête. It would be a perfect party for us to attend.”
He had managed to grit out an almost civil reply. “I do not like Town ... I do not like fête's ... and most of all, I do not and have never liked the Hampture's.”
How had she duped him? Again his gaze moved to where she knelt cooing over his father. He studied her delicate profile. The woman boggled his mind more often than not. He knew his major problem ... his body had called out in wild, unfed hunger and Thorton's body had answered.
So in the end he had granted her a wedding gift. A very short trip to London. Then he had effectively silenced her chitchat with his mouth. Almost grudgingly, he had to admit it had been a long, sweet, and most fulfilling afternoon. Just thinking about it made him want to carry her upstairs and try it again.
“I have a wonderful idea,” Thorton announced. “Roger, why don't you come along with us? We could make it a family outing.”
Roger sputtered. “Come along on your wedding trip? Listen, girl, it ain't proper.”
He sounded like he was grumbling, yet deep inside, Roger hoped she would insist he go. It had been years since he had journeyed to Town, and the very prospect of going with his son and Thorton held excitement he had not felt in years. It was bound to be an adventure. Thorton always seemed to make normal things quiet adventures.
“I guess that settles that,” she said, dejectedly.
“Settles what?”
“You will have to come with us. I'm afraid, you just described me perfectly. It will probably take the four of you to teach me the way of things. I truly hate to admit this, sir, but I am most improper at certain things.”
Blake couldn't stop his laughter from erupting. He knew the she-devil had been up to something. Thorton was more than just improper, she was a hellion. Blake saw Roger's glowing face and laughed harder. The old man looked as though he had just received the Regents treasure. But this treasure, Thorton, herself, belonged to them all.
That sober thought brought his laughter to an end. He could not believe his own mind had turned traitor. He had almost considered what it might take to change Thorton's mind, to persuade her to forget her dream and replace it with them, with him.
Blake's heart leapt. He compared his situation as to that of standing on the edge of a bottomless pit. He could back away, slowly, easily. Or he could take the one step that would cast him over the edge. His breath caught deep in his chest. Thorton was the black pit, calling to him like a siren, beckoning him into her dark depths. He could not bring himself to accept, to take everything she was willingly offering. He could not, would not, take that step. Instead, he would watch his footing as he backed away from the pit of blackness. She was making him forget his caution, and that he could not allow.
“The four of us?” Roger asked as his eyes twinkled at Thorton.
“Of course-Blake, Lucas, you, and we can't forget Griggs, can we?”
“You do me a great honor, Madame,” Griggs stated, straightening his coat with a tug and giving her a nod.
“You know we couldn't get along without you.”
“We could try,” Roger mumbled and was rewarded with a shake from Thorton's head. “I was just jesting. Of course we couldn't go to Town without him.”
“See, I knew this would be best. I love family outings.”
Blake silently watched her. When had she ever been on a family outing? Understanding came swiftly. Never. That was her reason for wanting everyone to come along. In all his years of seclusion, he had always had his father and Griggs. But Thorton never had anyone except Lucas. In his mind he could see the little girl she must have been. Waiting, watching, for some sign, some sight, of the father she never saw. His heart constricted as he imagined what it must have been like.
“Now,” Thorton stated briskly as she stood. “We have several invitations that need answering. It would seem all of London has heard about our wedding and wishes for us to attended parties. We are in demand.”
Again Blake's laughter filled the room. He had an idea just how the ton had learned of their marriage. Knowing his wife, she probably had notified all of London before leaving her home on the border.
/> “When you decide to behave like a civilized man, we can finish this discussion.” Holding her head high, Thorton left the room. Would she ever get used to this family's rudeness? Probably not, she sighed, as the ringing of Blake's infernal laughter echoed.
Blake wiped the moisture from his eyes. He never realized just how much his life had lacked of laughter until now. But until this moment he never realized just how much he had missed it, how it seemed to lighten his heart, how it brought an almost weightlessness to his body. Apparently, the old wives’ tale was true ... laughter was good for what ailed you.
His earlier thoughts came back to plague him. The black pit yawning in front of him. Instead of backing away from its edge, perhaps it would be wiser if he jumped back from it and ran like hell. Safer, wiser, and probably the most logical option. Yes, Thorton was the pit. She was surrounded by treacherous terrain, filled with traps set for him. Traps that could bring him to his knees. Traps that could be the end of him. The most deadly trap was the one she had set for his heart. Oh, he had succumbed to the needs of his body, but he would not willingly do so with his heart.
He was going to have to watch himself more carefully. He could not let her cast her hook and reel him in as easily as she had done his sire. Even if it meant chanting the words over and over every second, he had to remember whom the woman was ... a Lynwood.
Of course when her naked body was lying next to him, he pushed all other thoughts to the farthest reaches of his mind, wanting nothing to disrupt the magic and fire that seemed to erupt when they came together. But her soft whimpers, her moans of pleasure seemed to dissolve any thoughts that might trespass upon them. He vividly recalled the feel of her silky wetness, the sweet taste of her plump nipples, and the explosion that had thundered through him brought on by the exquisite tiny tremors that rocked her soul.
Blake's face turned warm when he noticed his father watching him. With a mumbled excuse, he left the room. He fastened his jacket, hoping to cover the bulge in his pants. This was all her fault and once he got his hands on her he would ... bury himself deep within her.
* * * *
Over the next few weeks, the household was put through a flurry of preparations. A small staff had been sent ahead to open the Bradley's townhouse. Invitations had been accepted. They had chosen to attend only two parties a week. And at Blake's firm order, they would not be staying longer than four weeks. Thorton had wanted to argue, but Roger reminded her she should feel fortunate to being going at all, as much as Blake hated Town.
The closer their departure came, the worse Blake's temper got. His roars and bellows reminded her of her first day at Stonecrest. There were times she could have sworn she'd actually seen smoke rising from him.
From her window, she watched as Blake directed the loading of their trunks. She observed the way he held his body as he conversed with his guardsman, Gordon. Her eyes took in every detail of him. How the slight breeze ruffled his long black hair, the way he crossed his arms over his massive chest, a chest covered with a thick mat of black hair that could tantalize her to madness.
Heat rose to her cheeks as she studied his large hands, remembering what they were capable of, the pinnacle to which they could bring her. There were times she was frightened by the control he had over her. With just one look, he could make her surrender.
Thorton turned away from the window with a sigh. He was, in all aspects, a wonderful man. One just had to look over his growls and fire breathing. A smile came to her face as she thought over the lecture he had given her, or as he named them, ‘his rules.’ She was not to go away from the house alone, neither night nor day. She was not to leave his or Roger's side while attending parties. And last but not least, she was not to fall prey to the howling leeches of the ton, which to Blake's way of thinking, they would all undoubtedly try to coax her out and away from his protection.
Hugging her arms around herself, she stared at the flames dancing in the hearth. Life at Stonecrest was not how she had imagined it. Lately, it had been better. Her imagination had not been vivid enough to envision anything like reality had given her.
Oh, she still had to fight Blake for every inch she could get, but actually, it was all quite thrilling. At times she would wonder, then she would worry, what would be his reaction when he finally found out what she had wanted for so long. Sadness filled her. The knowledge of her goal would only serve to put him in a fine temper. She would take his wrath, take everything he tossed at her in his anger, simply because she deserved it. But it would be worth it finally to have her ultimate goal. She could only hope he would someday forgive her. It wasn't like what she was doing was so terrible. She wasn't out to purposely hurt anyone. She just wanted...
Thorton turned from the hearth in frustration, wiping her disturbing thoughts from her mind. She recalled Blake's expression when she had issued a few of her own rules about London. He had sat in complete silence, looking somewhat stunned, then he got to his feet, shook his head, and left the room. At first she had been angry. How could he just up and leave before she had finished? Then she smiled, if he choose to ignore her warnings, that was fine. She would be at his side to remind him every step of the way.
He was the one who felt they needed rules. It would be interesting to see if he abided hers. Not once did it enter her mind how well she would keep his rules. She was too close now to let it all slip through her fingers.
Unbidden and unwanted came the thought of her father. He was the one who had brought her to this point. Thorton wasn't sure if she should curse him or offer thanks. She would eventually tell Blake everything. Just not yet. It was too soon. Though they had been married a month, they had become man and wife only recently.
Her heart whispered she was selfish, but she ignored the nagging sigh. How could she risk it all? Blake needed time to feel more at ease with her. She knew each time they made love, he condemned himself for what he thought was a weakness. She could feel his rage in the aftermath and thought she understood how he felt.
And that was another thing she had not counted on ... their explosive lovemaking. Up until the moment Blake had made her his true wife, she had never given the act of loving much thought. And that was where her one major sin lay.
She not only wanted Blake's touch, she craved it, thrived for it. What would her life be like when and if he took it away? When she was wrapped in his strong arms, when his scent covered her, when her heartbeat followed his, it was the only time in her life she felt her true self. Not as Thorton of Rosewood ... not as Duke Robert's daughter.
Beneath the shield of innocence, she had discovered what had always been there. In Blake's arms, she became Thorton the wanton ... Thorton the desirous. Best of all, she became Thorton the woman. Blake's woman, if only during the moments of loving.
A blush warmed her cheeks. When he made love to her, she became lustful. Never could she have imagined anything like what she had experienced in her husband's strong arms. And this was only the beginning. A delicious shiver ran down her spine. She was just now learning. But Blake had told her he would show her the different sides of loving. He had nightly whispered that promise in her ear as he went into great details.
But all his promises, all his fierce and tender loving, did not stop the cold aftermath Blake felt. He would hold her until he thought her asleep, then he would get out of bed and pace. She didn't have to wonder what thoughts had brought forth his scowl. How many times had she heard him whisper his reminder in those dark moments? She was a Lynwood ... his enemy.
If God could grant her one wish, what would it be? Did it matter? No, what mattered was the way she handled this situation and what Blake would do when he found out the truth. If worse came to worst, Lucas would be there for her. He was her firm hold, her mentor, her guardian, her best friend. He was her common sense when it seemed as though she had lost hers.
Thorton wrapped a shawl about her shoulders before heading outside. Would Blake find it in himself to understand her reasons and forgive h
er? Could he find that kind of grace and clemency for her, a woman who was a Lynwood?
She had less than eleven months. Could she make him forget the blood of Duke Robert flowing through her veins? She wasn't sure. There were times when he would look at her as if she was the most puzzling person who ever walked the earth.
She knew he'd had a firm mental picture of her that had been there for fifteen years, but so far she had not turned out like the Sorceress he had expected. She was nothing like her father, but did Blake even know? Perhaps not, but Roger did.
Then there were moments she saw all the hate Blake had for her. A shiver would race through her body as his ebony eyes turned cold yet hot, glistening with bitterness over the blow life had dealt him. Or the times when his passions took over. These were her favorite moments. Blake surely had to be a master at seduction, she thought with a smile.
Slowly she approached his riged frame. His soft curse made her falter. He would forgive her, her mind chanted over and over, he had to.
“Damn.” Blake watched the loading of the carriage. He wanted nothing more than to tell Thorton to forget about going to London. He had constantly told her what he wanted and expected of her when they reached their destination. He knew he had sounded like an old nag, but he had a feeling things were going to take a drastic change. He just didn't know if it would be for the better or the worse.
She had shocked him when she issued her rules. He had often thought of her words, remembering how he had left the room before his laughter could erupt. First, he was not to pay any attention to another female. She had forbidden him taking a mistress at any time during their year together. He thought her demands ridiculous. Did she honestly think that another would want him?
Thorton, however, made him feel handsome and, at certain times, like when they made love, when her hands caressed him, he felt beautiful. She was the only one who had tried to look at him from within. Did she give words of praise and tenderness, as if she was reading from a well-written script?