‘There is nothing to apologise for. You had just buried your father.’
A sudden blush stained her cheeks and she was fiddling with the ribbons of her bonnet rather than look at him, he noticed. That was not a good sign. Unless...?
‘Did we engage in...um...did we make love?’ The seams of his breeches strained at the prospect. Even talking about the act roused his ardour for her. It really was a good thing that he was sitting down or he would have a great deal more to apologise for.
Her face instantly suffused with vivid colour. ‘You will be pleased to know that you were spared that ordeal.’
Ordeal? What an odd—and worrying—turn of phrase. Had she not enjoyed what he had done to her that night? He was sure that they had both been quite satisfied.
‘You merely insisted that you would not be able to sleep unless you slept with me. Because of your nightmares.’
Oh, dear. He had been talkative. Please God he had spared her the details. ‘And then what did I do?’
‘You slept, of course, you silly man!’ But she could not quite meet his eyes as she said it and that fact left him feeling decidedly off kilter. If she was not reluctant to tell him what he had done, he would have to coax it out of her gently.
‘Did you enjoy your ride?’
Her shoulders relaxed slightly at the change of subject and she balanced primly on the edge of one of the chairs. ‘I did. I met my brother again and we chatted for over an hour.’
‘I did not know that you had started riding with your brother. That is good to hear.’
She stared down at her lap and worried her bottom lip with her teeth anxiously. ‘There is something I need to talk to you about, Aaron.’ Connie risked a peek at him through her lashes. ‘You told me some things last night.’
‘Did I?’
His response sounded innocuous enough, but Connie was not fooled by his casualness. He visibly paled and she watched his jaw tighten. There were so many things that she wanted to ask him about, most predominantly what had happened to the mysterious Fletcher, but such things needed to be approached delicately and at the right time. Aaron certainly did not appear to be ready to discuss those things. Even his hands had begun to grip the arms of the chair as if he were braced to bolt at any moment. There were easier things to talk about first.
‘You told me that the land your father purchased was made of chalk.’
His fingers unfurled and his Adam’s apple bobbed in relief. ‘What of it?’
Connie grinned at him. ‘Chalk is a valuable commodity. Perhaps more valuable that wheat or barley.’
‘No, it isn’t—whoever gave you that ridiculous idea?’ he scoffed, shaking his head in denial of what she knew to be fact.
‘It is, Aaron. Do you remember I sat next to Sir Gerald Pimm at the dinner party and you warned me that he would bore me senseless? Well, he did. He waffled on for close to an hour on the many uses of chalk. To quote him: “Chalk is the crop that keeps on giving.” He is desperate to buy more land to quarry.’
Aaron sat forward, suddenly interested, his dark brows drawn together, making him look even more appealing than usual.
‘My brother says that there is a growing market for all manner of quarried stone nowadays and that there is considerable profit in it. He thinks that selling the land to Sir Gerald might well be the answer to all of your financial worries and that—’
‘You discussed this with your brother!’ His interested expression had been replaced by a thunderous one.
‘Henry has a very good head for business and I trust—’
‘You have no right to discuss my finances, or anything else about my sorry situation, with your brother!’
‘I trust my brother implicitly.’ She had intended to placate him but was irritated at the implication. ‘He would not do me wrong.’
Aaron shot out of his seat as if he had been fired by a cannon and loomed over her. ‘He’s a blasted Stuart, Connie! Everything you tell him will go straight back to your father. I can almost hear him gloating and crowing about it all from here. How dare you discuss my private affairs behind my back?’
Now he was just being plain unreasonable, the insufferable man, and he knew full well that it was hurting her neck to have to crane up to look at him. He was not the only one who could loom menacingly. Pulling herself up to her full height, Connie looked him straight in his stubborn eyes. ‘Who else could I confide in?’
‘You might have tried confiding in me! I am your husband after all.’
‘How convenient.’ She started to pace around the floor to stop herself from wanting to throw something at him. ‘However, it is difficult to confide in a person who hides away from his wife whenever things get a little difficult. You are my husband when you are in the mood to be and a brooding recluse the rest of the time! Well, seeing as we are confiding in each other, you might as well know that I also took it upon myself to write to Sir Gerald this morning to offer him the land on your behalf.’
‘Does your impertinence know no bounds at all, Connie? You had no right to do that either. Not without asking me first!’
‘I would have asked you, but you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself and lying in a drunken stupor!’
‘Once! I got drunk once, damn you, and under the circumstances, who could blame me? Stop flouncing around as if you are the one who has been wronged, Constance.’
‘Flouncing!’ That made it sound as if she was merely being dramatic rather than genuinely aggrieved by what he was saying. And he never called her Constance.
‘Yes—flouncing.’ He started to prance around the room, waving his arms. ‘My name is Constance Stuart and I am a spoiled brat!’
‘How dare you!’
He didn’t stop. ‘Look at me flounce! I’m so dramatic. And innocent. I would never go behind my husband’s back so that I can stab him in it. But I am a Stuart, after all, so I suppose I couldn’t help it.’
He thought she had stabbed him in the back. That hurt. ‘I have had enough of this. I try to help and you behave like this?’ She turned towards the door.
‘How typical. I suppose now you are going to leave in a sulk?’
Now he had gone too far. ‘No. I am leaving you, Aaron! Permanently.’
Connie stalked out of the study, slamming the heavy oak door as hard as she could, and marched to her private sitting room. The man was an idiot! A stubborn fool who she would be well rid of. It was long past time she put an end to this travesty of a marriage. She stomped to her closet and pulled out her trunk. She did not care if the Dower House was ready or not. She was going to move out today and stop caring about Aaron Wincanton if it killed her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aaron watched her fly out of the room and fought to bring his temper under control. She was in the wrong. How could she not see it? His financial situation was humiliating. It had taken a great deal of trust to confide in her, yet now it was as good as public knowledge. Once her brother told her spiteful father, the sorry truth would be bandied about and, aside from making him a laughing stock, the implications of that were horrifying. Redbridge could pull in favours and make life extremely difficult for him. What if he was refused credit? Opportunists would circle like vultures ready to pick his carcase clean.
Yet above all of those worries was the awful possibility that Connie might have done it deliberately. Even if she had not meant to ruin him, she had chosen her family above him and that thought physically hurt. Aaron might well be unworthy, and he definitely did not deserve it, but he had wanted her to choose him. Only him.
Deaks scratched on the door and looked embarrassed. ‘Her ladyship has ordered a conveyance to transport her belongings to the Dower House immediately, my lord. I thought I had best check with you to see if you are agreeable to her request.’
Aaron’s lun
gs suddenly felt constricted and it became an effort to breath. Obviously, she thought that she was going somewhere. The fear was as instant as it was unwelcome. He wanted to hate her, he had every reason to hate her, but he was terrified that she might actually leave him. He barged passed the butler and tore up the stairs two at a time. She had betrayed his trust and he was damned if he would allow her to have the last word this time. Or leave him.
Her bedchamber door crashed open with a satisfying thud and he watched her eyes widen as he strode towards her. His volatile wife was obviously shocked by his sudden intrusion, but she recovered quickly. She stood unrepentant, clothing clutched in her hands and an open trunk stood at her feet.
‘Go away, Aaron.’
A maelstrom of emotion was boiling violently in the pit of his stomach and needed to be vented or else he would combust. Aaron snatched the limp garments from her fingers and tossed them to the floor before firmly kicking the trunk at the wall. ‘You will leave this house when I say and not before. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?’
He watched her swallow nervously before her green eyes hardened to flint. But, for once, she said nothing. It was just as well; Aaron was so furious he could barely see straight. He sucked in a shuddering breathe as she continued to glare at him, trying to stem the painful wound of her betrayal and failing. ‘How dare you go behind my back like that?’
‘I did not go behind your back, you fool. I was merely trying to help you.’
‘By informing my enemies that I am broke? By giving your father the satisfaction of knowing that he has finally beaten the Wincantons? What a great help you are, Connie!’
‘Do not use sarcasm with me!’
Oh, that was rich! She had the audacity to be affronted. ‘Does it irritate you, Constance? How ironic. The queen of sarcasm doesn’t like it back. It makes me feel sick to think that I trusted you!’ And that he had allowed himself to fall in love with her. That he had almost told her of those epic feelings. He had been on the very cusp of laying himself bare at her feet and in return, she had now trampled all over him as if he did not matter to her at all. What a complete and utter fool! And now she wanted to abandon him. Incensed, humiliated and in danger of letting her witness how deeply she had wounded his heart, Aaron marched to her wardrobe and grabbed an armful of gowns and ceremoniously dumped them into the trunk.
‘I want you out of my house and my life today, Constance!’ No, he didn’t. But still the hateful words spilled forth. ‘I am sorry that I married you.’
‘Not as sorry as I am that I married you!’ Was that a catch he just heard in her voice? ‘But at least now you can go and get yourself a beautiful wife who is more to your liking! One that you do not need to cover over with a sheet r-rather than l-look at!’ He definitely heard her falter then, as if she was actually upset. As if he had actually upset her when she had destroyed him.
‘What are you talking about?’ He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. There were tears shimmering in her stormy green eyes. ‘I have never covered you with a sheet!’ What a truly preposterous thing to say. Could she not see that she was the one that had betrayed him? He had trusted her. Confided in her. She should be grovelling for his forgiveness and promising to stay, not accusing him of covering her in a blasted sheet, of all things.
‘How dare you?’ She pushed him away. ‘How dare you feign ignorance when you know full well that you could not bear the sight of me? You jumped out of the bed so quickly I thought that the blankets must be on fire! And then you covered me with the sheet so that you would not have to look at my disappointing body in the daylight. Admit it—I d-d-disgust you!’
For a moment he thought she had actually gone quite mad as he replayed their interactions since last night step by step. Had he missed something? As far as he was concerned it had been the most spectacular night of passion of his life. He was certain that she had enjoyed the whole experience as much as he had. In fact, he had been completely broad-sided by it. Damn it all, he had very nearly told her that he loved her that morning. How could she have taken that as disgust?
Fat tears of sheer misery began to roll down her lovely cheeks just like they had that first, fateful evening in that library and everything suddenly became clear. Aaron had covered her over that morning, he remembered with a jolt, and Connie had misinterpreted it. Remorse at his clumsiness swamped him. Time and time again she had left him clues about her insecurities, but yet he had not put them all together. Ghastly hair, washboard figure, looming, plain and, God help him, the Ginger Amazonian. The silly woman believed herself to be ugly and it was, unforgivably, all his fault. And he had just ordered her to leave. All of his anger dissolved under the weight of his new guilt, but Connie was already halfway to the door. Aaron was not going to let her leave on those dreadful last words. Even if it meant admitting how he felt.
‘I never meant you to think that.’ He caught her about the waist with one arm and dragged her rigid body backwards into his embrace. ‘I can understand why you thought it. Truly I can.’ She squirmed in his arms. All the while, silent tears still dripped from her eyes. One fell on to the back of his hand, humbling him, and he knew that he owed her the truth. ‘I panicked. I was so overwhelmed by what had happened between us, and by the intensity of my feelings, that I had to escape. Seeing you like that, Connie, all naked and lovely, was too much of a temptation. I almost told you that I loved you and wanted to beg for your love in return.’ His heart began to race at the confession. As if he stood any hope of her returning his feelings? Once he told her the truth about himself he would kill that hope just as surely as he had poor Fletcher.
His heartfelt declaration fell on deaf ears. Her body stiffened as she tried and failed to wriggle out of his hold. ‘Oh, please! Do you seriously expect me to believe that? I do not need your pity or your flowery words. I am well aware of what I am and why you married me...’
‘I think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on. Right from that first moment in Almack’s I desired you.’
‘Liar! There is nothing about me that you find attractive!’
Her strength was impressive. She was wriggling free, her fingers were already closing around the door handle. Aaron was going to have to show her how wrong she was; the stubborn wench was never going to believe him otherwise. He pressed his hips insistently against her bottom, using his weight to push her against the door.
‘Do you feel that, Connie?’
It was difficult not to. He planted his hands on her hips and turned her to face him, letting his hard body rest intimately against hers while it imprisoned her. ‘I am not sure what you know about a man’s body—but I can assure you that only happens when we find a woman attractive. Every time I look at you, you take my breath away. I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you.’
He took hold of her hand and pressed her open palm against the impressive bulge in his breeches, holding it there sandwiched between them, his lips so close to her ear.
‘A moment ago we were shouting at each other—and yet still I wanted you. I might find you exasperating, and God knows you fire my temper more than anyone ever has, but I always want you. This is evidence of that. It is not pity. Nor is it a lie. You have done this to me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’
‘I don’t believe you!’
Connie wanted to drag her hand away and cover her ears. But it felt so good to touch him and be held so firmly in his arms. When his mouth came down on hers with a ragged sigh he kissed her urgently, plunging his fingers into her hair and pulling out the pins.
‘I love your hair, Connie. Especially when it is all loose and spread over my pillow.’ His lips found her ear, making her shudder as his teeth scraped over the sensitive flesh there.
‘My hair is too red, you idiot, and does not do as it is told.’ He loved her hair? How marvellous. His clever hands were now work
ing on the laces at the back of her dress while his mouth never left hers. When he had loosened it enough, he pushed it down her shoulders roughly, exposing her unimpressive breasts to his greedy touch.
‘I have no curves!’
‘Then why do I let you win every horse race? Unless I do it on purpose so that I can watch your lovely bottom bounce in the saddle and imagine that it is me that you are riding with such skill?’
His shocking words thrilled her, but still she goaded him. Still needed more proof of his desire.
‘I am flat-chested.’
‘I beg to differ. If you were, I would not be able to do this so easily.’ He sucked her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip and making her arch against him wantonly. Connie found herself clawing at the buttons on his falls desperately, needing to feel skin on skin. When he finally sprang free she wrapped her hand around him, caressing his hardness until he groaned and hoisted her skirts up her legs.
‘I am unladylike. I speak my mind. And I am difficult.’ Her voice sounded ragged to her own ears, her throat tight with need and passion. She had never felt so desired or as alive as she did right as this moment. ‘You think that I have betrayed you!’
‘Perhaps not intentionally.’ If she would stay he would forgive her anything. ‘You really are the most vexing woman I have ever met, Constance Wincanton. And I love your legs. I have never seen legs as long and shapely as yours.’
‘I am too tall,’ she blurted defiantly, daring him to deny that at least.
He gripped one of her thighs and hooked it around his hips. ‘And thank God for it,’ he growled as he plunged into her wet heat and took her against the wall, his russet eyes burning with lust.
Their coupling was fast and urgent and glorious, leaving them both panting and stunned afterwards. When it was finished he stepped back a little to let his gaze rake possessively over her semi-clothed body, lingering on her bared breasts and the damp auburn curls between her legs before he spoke. ‘If ever you are in any doubt about your attractiveness to me, I am more than happy to prove you wrong, Connie.’
Her Enemy At the Altar Page 21