Letting the weather lull her senses, she continued to read. Deeply engrossed as the story's heroine vowed her love for the handsome warrior, she failed to hear the snick of the door latch.
A masculine clearing of throat caused her to lift her head in alarm. “I am sorry to disturb you, Miss An Li,” he said in a deep voice. “If this is a bad time, I shall leave you alone."
Stephen.
Her heart lurched as she blinked at him. So handsome, he was. How charming and gentle. Yet, he was a man of secrets. Something infinitely lonely deep within him seemed to reach out and touch her heart.
The day of his visit was one of the best in her life. Loneliness, a constant companion, disappeared with his presence. Christian would be upset to know of the despair in which she lived. He was always so busy, and though he often talked with her deep into the evening, she spent her days alone. It had always been that way.
The years living in Chang's wicked household had stolen wonderful things from her. Only through reading had she learned that mothers kissed their little girls and hugged them tightly. She now knew that children played silly games together. She had been deprived of those simple joys.
A worthless child.
A worthless woman.
An Li felt deep within that she was undeserving of love, yet she'd been buoyed by Stephen's visit. Though he was no doubt a busy man, they laughed together and talked of many things. He treated her as a human and not an object, instantly endearing himself to her.
Unexpectedly, her eyes filled at seeing him again. Loneliness would not be her only friend today. Her heart thrilled at the sight of his face; her heartbeat quickened.
Blinking away the moisture, An Li couldn't respond immediately, so she filled the uncomfortable gap by slowly settling her book on a tiny table. Rising, she smiled in welcome as he closed the distance between them.
"Do not be silly, sir. I am too much alone. How nice it is to see you again."
His grin was boyish and, for once, it seemed his black eyes dropped their guarded expression. Taking her hand, he placed a soft kiss upon it. “I confess that I could not stay away. After your lovely impromptu vocal performance, I had thought you might grace me again. Perhaps you could be convinced to give me sunlight on this dreary day."
Laughing softly, An Li motioned to a dark leather divan. Stephen sank into the well-worn luxury and sighed. She joined him there.
"Perhaps we should wait for sun to return,” she said. “Birds give much better song than humble China girl."
"I would not be so sure of that.” His eyes lingered. “An Li, I couldn't stay away. You have been deeply on my mind since our first meeting. Never have I been more charmed by a female and, I confess, you have filled my mind since our first meeting."
Looking down, she couldn't help the frisson of pleasure that rang through her blood as he lifted her hand and held it between his. The pressure of his thumb caressing her palm should have made her afraid, but it didn't. How different it was to feel a man touch her in gentleness instead of possession.
Refusing to look at him, fearing he would read too much in her eyes, she whispered, “I fill of you in my ... my—"
An Li, frustrated and embarrassed, pointed to her head.
Stephen chuckled. “Head."
A grin exploded on her face. “Yes. So sorry. Not speak too good English. Please to forgive."
"Nothing to forgive, my dear."
"An Li not have good dream most nights.” Her eyes lowered as far as his sensual, smiling mouth. “Happy dream come now that you come see me."
Stephen lifted her chin with the edge of his finger and forced her to meet his gaze. “Such a forthright creature. I am happy that you enjoyed our visit, and you deserve the best of dreams, sweet one. Why should you not?"
"It is not good to care for you, sir. You touch me here.” An Li folded her hands over her heart. “But I must remember that pain often comes with a simple touch."
Stephen flinched, his beautiful lips tightened. What had she said to anger him? Somehow she'd said too much. This new world was so confusing when she was accustomed to plain speaking.
"Please to forgive,” she murmured, eyes downcast. “I say too much. Make my lord angry."
"Never,” he vowed. “Your voice is the best music I could have heard this day. In my eyes, you are an angel."
Struggling for words to cover her embarrassment, she pulled away slightly. “Christian is gone today. Perhaps he will return tonight and you may return to speak with him. He has gone to drink tea with lady he will marry."
Stephen's brow arched. “You do not mind?"
An Li tilted her head in question. “Mind? No, I do not. He must marry Elizabeth Grayson."
"Are you so certain he will manage it? After all, I am quite sure there are others pursuing her."
She nodded. “Christian is a kind and gentle man and he tells me that Lady Grayson is most intelligent. If she is smart, she will return his affection."
"Mmm. I see. What will you do when Christian marries, my dear? Where shall you go? A bride would not approve of a man's mistress living in the same house. In British society, it isn't done. Normally, a mistress lives in her own small house far from his home and family."
An Li stiffened. “You misunderstand."
Stephen shook his head. “No, I think not. London gossips often speak of the Asian woman, his mistress, who lives in his home. It is almost common knowledge, and Christian, being the rebel that he is, is just the sort to defy convention."
He took An Li's hands. They were large and warm. When she looked into his eyes, she saw genuine warmth and tenderness. “You must let me care for you, love."
"Care for me?"
"Yes. If Christian does not wed Elizabeth, it is a certainty that he will marry someone. She will not relish your living here. Christian will surely be forced to move you to another location. You will be alone with no one to see to your daily needs. Let me be the man to take care of you, An Li."
Hurt stabbed at her heart for just a moment, before she realized that, though she'd never been Christian's mistress, Stephen was correct in saying Christian's new wife would never welcome her. Honor demanded, however, that she set Stephen's thoughts to right. “I am not any man's mistress, my lord."
Surprise registered on Stephen's dark face and a strange glow lit his eyes. Whether is was disbelief or some stronger emotion, An Li wasn't certain.
"In my old life, many bad things happened. My lord Christian would never ask intimacy from me. He respects me. Do you respect me, too? Or do you only want to take me to your bed?"
Emotion flickered in Stephen's eyes before he gently pulled her to his chest. His arms enveloped her as he buried his face in her unbound hair. An Li felt his warm breath like a caress and shivered helplessly in his arms. Her heart pounded as she dared dream he might feel as she did.
"I would respect and provide for you. We could go to my estate in the north and live there together."
"But you must marry, yes?"
He groaned and tightened his grip. Kissing her hair once more, Stephen cupped her face and drew back to gaze into her eyes. “Yes, I must. But since meeting you, I have given the matter much thought. Once I have married and made an heir upon my wife, I will insist she remain in London. I would seldom have to see her. Most marriages among the Ton operate in that manner."
Her mind in a jumble, An Li wondered why the thought of his marrying should hurt her so. She'd been a slave her entire life. She was not a woman of value, yet it would be so wonderful to be loved exclusively by this man.
"I cannot speak, Stephen. I know not what to say."
His eyes darkened as he drew her close again. “Then do not speak, darling, just feel."
Stephen's hands found the slender column of her neck as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her gasp of pleasure died within his mouth, as he kissed her gently. The barely-there brush of lips tantalized, fluttering like a pair of butterfly wings, before he took the kiss deeper.
This was An Li's first kiss.
Powerful.
Consuming.
Captivating.
She trembled in his arms and arched closer. How strange it was, the way her breasts burned and throbbed against his chest. A soft moan burst from her throat as his tongue began to duel with hers, as he moved his body against her own, setting small fires deep inside.
Slowly his hands trailed the length of her throat, gently stroking with his thumbs. An Li, caught up in the gentle passion of it all, shuddered, realizing her robe had slid open at the neck. His hands took advantage, moving lower to lightly stroke just above her collarbone. They skimmed the tops of her shoulders like the brush of a feather.
Overwhelmed, An Li drew away and shakily pulled her robe together. With the many men she'd known in the past, why did his touch disturb her so? Her cheeks burned hot. With a shock she realized she was embarrassed.
"What is wrong?” he asked, softly.
"Everything, Stephen."
"Did my kiss not please you? Did you not respond as though made for me alone?"
An Li helplessly closed her eyes and nodded. Impossible, that she could feel these things so quickly and easily. This man deserved everything. The sun. The moon. The stars. He deserved a chaste and gentle virgin to share his bed. A lover who was pure.
But she would always be just a whore. Stephen, the man she loved, deserved so much more.
* * * *
A heavy swishing sound teased the perimeters of her mind. Elizabeth and Charlotte, one dressed in pink, the other in blue, descended stairs as their petticoats moved in tandem. No, that wasn't right, was it?
Elizabeth's thoughts registered the sizzle and pop, the bright colors of fireworks over Vauxhall Gardens at midnight. Laughter echoed through her mind along with sounds of amazement and wonder. She reached for her sister's hand to find emptiness instead. A groan accompanied the sobbing sound of loss.
Struggling to open her eyes, Elizabeth felt a tug at first one foot, then the other, each followed by the sharp sound of something hitting the floor. Her half-boots.
What was happening? She lay prone upon something soft and would have found comfort if not for the fact that she was quite damp. Dragging her eyes open, she gazed up, surprised to see Christian frowning at her. Black hair, sodden and dripping, clung to his skull. His mouth was drawn into a fierce line of displeasure. What had she done to anger him this time?
She studied his remarkable face as a dreamlike force curled through her mind. Although fuzzy, she was awakening quickly. Christian's eyes, she noted, were directed at her body, not her face. A pull here and there told her that he was trying to remove her dress. He was tormenting her again, but why?
"Mmm.” Futilely, she attempted to arch away from his marauding hands. From deep within the fog, she felt a chill shake her. She was frozen to the bone and the beast was trying to remove her clothing. “Do not. Please. No."
"Hush, love. Let me help you."
"Help me what? What is happening? Where are we?"
"You were attacked, Elizabeth, by two of Edward's henchmen. If you weren't such an obstinate little fool, you would be safe at home now, but no, that isn't enough for a hellion like you, is it?” He continued to draw the sodden fabric from her body and though his hands were gentle, he scowled down at her.
"Wait!” she said, in a panic.
"Silence! I am not comfortable dealing with hysterical women. You scared me to death and that pitiful expression on your face makes me feel as if I'm taunting a kitten. Now be still and let me help you before you catch your death of the ague. You are the most impossible woman I've ever met. Lift now. That's it."
"I hate you,” she whispered weakly, as he tilted her body. “You are a beast and a bully."
Christian fought a grin. “I hate you right back. You have been nothing but trouble since the first day I met you. Perhaps we should just brand a huge “T” upon your forehead to warn the general population."
He pulled the tatters of her bodice down the length of her arms. Below his breath, he cursed as the wet fabric caught at the bend of her elbows, making her breasts thrust forward impudently. With each tiny tug, Elizabeth's bosom quivered as if taunting him for his gentlemanly manner. If he were a lesser man, he would take advantage of her state of undress.
His eyes ripped down the length of her body. Skating on the thin edge of frustration, he helplessly feasted on the sight. She looked like a damned virgin sacrifice. He wanted her with every breath in his body.
A sudden harsh chill shook her, and he groaned. Needing desperately to soothe, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her solidly against his chest. Shivers tore through her as he buried his face against the sweet, bare curve of her neck.
"I'm fuzzy,” she whispered.
"It will pass, love. Funny isn't it? The entire world sees you as so remote and untouchable. So damned tough. But you aren't, are you? Soft as peach pudding and twice as sweet, that is how I see you."
"I th-thought I was nothing but tr-trouble.” Shivers took hold in earnest.
"Oh, you are that, too, my dear.” He drew back and gave her a quick grin. “But you are also frozen to the bone. We must get these damp clothes from you or you'll become ill. Once you are warm, I shall begin your ravishment.” Quickly, he removed the sodden garment and tossed it aside leaving her dressed only in a pair of flimsy, transparent drawers and stockings.
"Lecher,” she whispered. She frowned and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her confusion was obvious.
"Do you not recall?” he asked. “We were caught in the thunderstorm that still roars about us."
Thunder crashed in emphasis as she drew away with a gasp. Understanding dawned in her eyes as her hands flew up to cover her naked breasts. She looked down the length of her near-naked body and pierced him with a furious scowl.
"How could you?” she bellowed.
"How could I what? Strip you naked?” He laughed harshly as he draped a worn quilt over her body. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, love, but the honor wasn't mine. It was Edward's man who tore your dress like an animal. I, noble knight that I am, merely want to keep you from contracting the ague."
"Up. Let me up at once."
Christian helped her to her feet, unable to tear his eyes away from the vivid flush that crawled from her chest to her forehead. Amused, he stepped back with a flourish. “I hesitate to mention that this predicament is completely your fault. Women traveling alone down country roads bring these things upon themselves."
"Ooh! How could you say such a thing? That is such a man comment! I did not ask to be attacked, and the fact that I am a woman should have nothing to do with it!"
Arguing with her was futile. Futile, but when it occurred ... Invigorating. The minx was driving him to distraction.
"Perhaps it is time you rejoin the real world, my sweet. The world in which we live is not always fair, but in the interest of practicality, I suggest we withhold this conversation for another time, hmm? I took the liberty of locating a bedroom. It is just there, to the right. You can put yourself to rights. The quilt you're wearing should cover you adequately until your clothes dry."
Elizabeth's gaze skittered to the door as she clutched the quilt around herself. Picking up her wet and tattered dress, she tossed him one more fulminating glare and fled from the room. Christian laughed out loud. He had her right where he wanted her.
* * * *
Elizabeth looked around the homey bedchamber and though she'd never been inside, she knew it belonged to Mrs. Brown. It had an abandoned feel to it. Her eyes slid to the closed door. Embarrassed and angry, she draped the shreds of her tattered dress over a ladder-backed chair and struggled to forget the taunting expression on Christian's face. He was bloody well enjoying this, as she stomped around the room and seethed.
In a quiet spurt of anger, she drew another straight-backed chair across the room and propped it beneath the door latch. Christian's laugh from the other side just made her more furious
.
Stepping back, she glared at the door before finally turning to take in the accommodations. Odd that the tidy little room smelled like Imogen. Lemons and fragrant talc reminded her very much of the elderly widow.
Shivering now, Elizabeth peeled off the damp cambric drawers and her stockings until she was completely naked. She took up the quilt and went about the task of drying her body and hair. Later, when she was a bit more presentable, she would lay her damp things by a fire to dry.
Chills raced over her skin, so she hastily rewrapped the homemade quilt around her. Barefoot, she cautiously approached the dresser mirror, unnerved by what she knew she would see reflected there.
Scowling at the pale face and destroyed coiffure, she plucked pins from the mess. One by one she dropped them into a small glass bowl and retrieved a comb lying nearby. There was something about the repeated motion of combing through her hair that calmed her. Springy curls haloed her face and the waist-length mass waved damply down her back. Though she wasn't at her most attractive, it would have to do under the circumstances.
Finished with the task, she placed her hands on the surface of the dresser and leaned forward. Hanging her head in shame, she realized that some of Christian's angry words were correct. Why hadn't she been more cautious? Who would take care of everyone should something happen to her? She could've been killed, and Lottie would have died without being avenged. Elizabeth knew very well that Edward had threatened her once already. Stupid! She was stupid and ridiculous for taking such chances.
But under the circumstances, what else could she have done?
The women at Charlotte House were her responsibility now.
Pushing wet hair over her shoulders, she sank down upon the edge of Imogen's bed. She heard Christian prowling the main room like a caged tiger. The faint sound of match striking flint drew her attention, and she murmured a quiet prayer of thanks that he had appeared when he had. A shudder raced through her at the knowledge of what could have happened had he not come to her rescue.
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