“No, my lady. I am the very soul of discretion.” Looking at Caine, he said mockingly, “Speak your piece, Hartland. We’re all friends here.”
His look chilled Bliss. She instinctively moved closer to Caine, wanting him to know she was there and on his side.
Caine’s gaze speared the earl, his eyes black as they narrowed on the man’s face. “How’s your jaw this morning, St. Giles?”
The taunt was evident. Had Caine punched the earl? If so, why?
The smug expression disappeared from the earl’s face as he dabbed his napkin to his lips. “A bit sore, but hardly worth discussing. Odd that I can’t recall how it happened. If I didn’t know better, I might believe I had been the victim of an unprovoked attack. But only a coward would do such a thing. Do you know any cowards, Hartland?”
“Only one,” Caine replied, the implication clear.
The earl’s hands curled into fists.
“Caine, darling,” Olivia interjected in a placating tone. “What has upset you so?”
Slowly, Caine’s gaze returned to hers. “You.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Don’t play innocent.”
“I told you, St. Giles and I—”
“I don’t give a damn about the two of you. I’m speaking about the Doyle family.”
The light of understanding dawned in Olivia’s eyes. “What about them?” she asked defensively, her chin going up.
“You can’t throw them off the property. They’ve lived here for twenty-two years. Will Doyle was the backbone that helped make Northcote what it is today. He and my father worked side by side cultivating the fields.”
“That is truly a heartwarming story, darling. But I cannot abide tenants who do not contribute to the maintenance of the estate. What would the other tenants think, should I allow the man and his family to live freely on my property?”
“That you possess an ounce of compassion, perhaps? The man’s dying, for Christ’s sake.”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed angrily. “There’s no room here for charity. The tenants work, or they leave. It’s that simple.”
“Sara gave you this month’s rent.”
“Yes, odd that she had the money. One might wonder where she got it. Her father has been ill for three months, yet she has had it each month. You wouldn’t have any idea how that happened, would you?” She gave him a knowing look.
“You got your damn money,” Caine said through gritted teeth. “Now leave them alone.”
She sighed and studied her bejeweled fingers, as though the subject bored her. “I don’t want their money. I want them off my land.” She glanced up then. “And this is my land, if you’ll recall. My house. My tenants. I can do what I please.”
“Her father is dying.”
Like an imperious queen, she lifted her teacup, a silent command for one of the attending servants to refill it. “That isn’t my problem, is it?”
The look that came over Caine’s face was frightening, and in that moment, Bliss truly believed he wanted to do bodily injury to Olivia.
“You want something; spit it out. What will it take for you to let them stay? Name your price. You always have one.”
Those cat eyes glimmered with satisfaction and a small smile played about Olivia’s lips as she rose and glided seductively toward him. “You know me so well, my love.” Her voluminous skirts brushed against his legs as she stepped closer to him, indecently close, her breasts almost touching his chest, her eyes on him alone, uncaring that her guests looked on. “But I wonder what you could give me that I don’t already have?” Something unspoken flared between them, and Caine’s body tensed. “I suspect you gave every last shilling to those filthy paupers.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I always knew you harbored an unnatural fondness for the villagers, and I’m quite put out with you for going behind my back. If not for Chadwick, I might not have known.” She smiled baitingly as Caine’s jaw locked in anger. “I told you he was a man of many talents. Among other things, he said he spotted you visiting those people several weeks ago.”
“And you’ve been waiting to spring your trap ever since.”
She shrugged airily, her triumphant gaze briefly floating to Bliss as she ran a slim, manicured finger over Caine’s shoulder. “Well, I had to see what would happen, if you would come up with the money. Since you refuse to take what I offer you, I can only assume you put that damn horse to stud. You always manage to land on your feet, don’t you, my lord? I’ve often appreciated your resourcefulness.”
St. Giles rose from his chair. “How unfortunate, Hartland,” the earl prodded jeeringly, his eyes gleaming with malice as he rubbed the bruise on his jaw. “It must be hard to see your father’s people cast off.”
“Shut your mouth,” Caine said in a low, savage voice. “Or I’ll ram your teeth down your throat.”
“Caine!” Olivia gasped. “I’ll not have you speaking to my guests that way. Apologize to St. Giles at once!”
Caine leaned down close to Olivia, and Bliss saw the flash of fear that blanched her face. “I wouldn’t apologize to that maggot even if you covered me with flesh-eating parasites and let them feast on my body for the rest of my natural life.”
“Why, you arrogant bastard,” St. Giles hissed. “You should have followed your father off that cliff.”
The next instant was a blur as Caine lunged toward the breakfast table and dove across it, St. Giles’s eyes going wide with shock as Caine’s massive hand wrapped around his throat.
A cacophony of sounds broke out with people yelling, St. Giles gasping, dishware breaking.
“Caine! Don’t!” Bliss pleaded. If he killed St. Giles—Her hands tried to break his vicious hold, but his grip was too strong. The earl began turning blue.
Knowing Caine would kill St. Giles if she didn’t find some way of stopping him, Bliss climbed onto the table, glasses crashing to the ground as she tried to get in front of him, to make him look at her.
“Please, Caine,” she beseeched, laying her palms against his cheeks; his skin was so hot it nearly scorched her. “Don’t do it. He’s not worth it. Please…please let go.”
His eyes, brutal and frightening and black, slashed in her direction as though she was another threat he needed to annihilate.
Her heart beat wildly, her lungs constricted with fear. Still, she held tight, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “Caine, he’s not worth it. Please let him go.”
A moment ticked by, then two, three. Finally, like the opening of a vise, he released the earl, who stumbled back and fell into a chair, his hands clutching his throat as he gasped for air.
“I’ll see…you…charged for this…you bastard,” the man vowed between heaving breaths, the marks of Caine’s fingers a glaring reminder of what had almost happened.
“Dear God, Caine!” Olivia exclaimed, shock giving way to anger. “Look what you’ve done! That was my best crystal and china!”
“Bugger your damn crystal and china!” St. Giles choked out. “That lunatic almost killed me! I insist you call the magistrate. The swine needs to be locked up.”
“Had you minded your own business, none of this would have happened,” Olivia snapped.
“You’re blaming me?” An angry flush scorched the earl’s neck as he jerked to his feet.
“Get out of my sight before I’m tempted to throw something at you.”
Fury radiated from the man, his gaze slicing to Caine, a promise in his eyes that warned it wasn’t over, before he stormed from the room, scattering the crowd that had gathered in the doorway, their expressions a mix of horror and fascination.
“Come with me,” Bliss quietly insisted, taking Caine’s hand as she got off the table, barely hearing the splintering of glasses as Caine followed her, shards crunching beneath his booted feet as he came to stand in front of her, the wild look in his eyes not entirely gone.
Bliss turned to find Olivia regarding their clasped hands, a challenge in her gaze when she lifted
her head. Bliss returned the challenge, a strong need unfurling inside her to protect Caine.
He yanked his hand from hers and stalked away, his actions piercing her heart and her pride. A self-satisfied smirk curled Olivia’s lips, mocking her.
“What do you want, Olivia?” he said, his voice emotionless as he stared out the window overlooking the gardens, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers.
“Well,” she began, “there is one thing, as you know, but I believe I’ll attain that wish.” She cast a look at Bliss, her sly smile still in place, and Bliss knew the remark had something to do with her. Olivia’s skirt rustled as she glided toward Caine, stopping next to him at the window. “It seems, my lord, that I already have everything you once possessed.”
Caine turned only a fraction so that he could stare down at her. “Not everything.”
“Really?” She cocked her head. “What’s left?”
“Khan.”
“That brute?” she scoffed. “What could I possibly want with him?”
“Khan is the best horse here. Not one of yours can compare. Breeders once traveled hundreds of miles to mate their fillies with his sire.”
Olivia regarded him for a moment, then slowly nodded. “He is quite magnificent, isn’t he? I could charge an exorbitant fee for his services, keeping the list exclusive enough that people will be clamoring for breeding rights. I can also mate him with my mares to beget future generations. Yes,” she murmured with a growing smile. “I can see the merits.”
“Then he’s yours on one condition.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to bargain.”
“Either you agree or there’s no deal.”
“Once I hear your request, I’ll give it due consideration.”
“If you want Khan, then you can’t throw the Doyles or any other tenant off the land.”
“What? That’s ridiculous! You go too far—”
“You’ll make more than enough money to compensate for any trouble. Take it, Olivia. You’re getting everything.”
“Well,” she finally said, “I am getting the better part of this deal. Fine. I agree. There are other ways of keeping the villagers in line.” She smiled provokingly. “Shall we toast to my good fortune?”
Caine ignored her and walked away, her soft laugh following in his wake. At the threshold, he turned and warned, “Keep St. Giles out of my sight or next time I’ll kill the pompous little cock.”
Then he was gone.
Thirteen
I am about to take my last voyage,
A great leap in the dark.
Thomas Hobbes
Bliss stared out her bedroom window at the endless night that blanketed the moors. A warm, sea-scented breeze billowed the curtains around her as she watched a string of glowing lights blinking and bobbing in the distance. The ghostly spectrum headed toward the western-most point of the quay before disappearing one by one, as though falling into the gaping maw of a black hole.
The sight made her think of Caine’s story about his father haunting the cliffs. Though her heart wanted to believe that deceased loved ones could somehow remain within the realm of the living, she knew what she had seen was not the glittering, demonic eyes of a pack of hounds following their disembodied master, but rather the lanterns of a group of fishermen.
She had overheard someone say that the fishing fleet often went out after midnight if the tides were low, to catch salmon. She had also seen the long rope ladders leading down to secluded inlets where coracles danced on the windswept tide. There were no ghosts, except those that existed in the imagination.
Since the incident in the morning salon, Bliss had kept to her room, claiming a headache when Court came for her at dinnertime. She knew he had heard about what had taken place. Undoubtedly he also knew her role, yet he made no comment, though his eyes conveyed she could talk to him if she wanted.
But what could she say? That he was right? That she should have stayed away from Caine? But how could she have known that the dark and brooding Earl of Hartland would become far more a risk to her heart than to her body?
She had to leave. She had decided hours ago that she would. The more time she spent with Caine, the more he drew her in. She had thought him a challenge once, but he was so much more than that. He was a journey, a winding trip that threatened to disrupt her life.
The plain truth was, she was scared. Something was happening to her, something she had never experienced before—an eclipsing of common sense, a feeling of spinning out of control, as if the very fabric of her life was shifting, and piece by piece the person she had always been was being replaced by someone else. What she feared, dreaded, was that she was coming to care for Caine.
Beneath that ruthless exterior was a man who amply matched her passion for life, who never backed down, who took what he wanted, said what he felt, and who possessed a depth of emotion she had yet to encounter in anyone.
And he belonged to another woman.
Bliss pressed her forehead against the cool window-pane, wondering when Caine had gotten under her skin and lodged there, and how long it would take before the ache in her heart dissipated.
She had thought about stealing out at first light, before the house was awake. Before Caine was standing in front of her, and the sight of him stopped her cold.
Lord, when had she become such a coward? As much as she might want to take the easy way out, if she succumbed to one fear, she would succumb to a multitude of others.
She had to tell Caine she was leaving. She owed him that much.
She knew where he was; she had spotted him entering the stables hours earlier. She could picture him down there alone, surrendering the only thing that meant anything to him. The compassion Caine could not bestow upon another human being, he conferred upon his horse. And now he had lost his final salvation.
As she quietly let herself out of her room and padded down the shadowed hallway toward the front of the house, Bliss didn’t know if the course of action she now planned to take was right. But she feared that where Caine was concerned, she might never know.
He was drunk.
Drunk and numb. But not numb enough, Caine thought. Not nearly numb enough.
God, what had happened to his life? How far back had everything gone awry? When had he taken that first step down the wrong path? Perhaps he had been born this way, his arrival into the world a death sentence to whoever cared for him. First his mother. Then his father.
All this time, he had lived under a self-indulgent delusion. But pretense was so much easier to face than the truth. Yet the lie had led to one mistake after the next, until his transgressions compounded so high, he couldn’t scale his way over. And it was all because he possessed the one trait he couldn’t abide in anyone else.
Weakness.
He was an illusion, just like his once-perfect life; his rage directed outward because he was too bloody spineless to accept the blame himself.
He had failed everyone.
Now, Bliss.
Sweet, fatal Bliss. Fatal to be near her. Fatal to see her, to touch her, to want her.
Fatal to care for her.
Christ. For a short while he had let himself forget who she was, allowed her to slip beneath his defenses and make him think that maybe…
He shut out the thought, closed off any emotion other than the bitterness that kept him going. Everything he had was taken from him. Whatever he desired was lost to him. He should have let St. Giles bed her, and good riddance.
He jammed his eyes shut and ground the heel of his hands into them, trying to block out images of St. Giles doing to Bliss what Caine had done to her that afternoon. Feeling her soft skin. Drowning in her heat. Hearing those hot whimpers as she built toward her climax. Then spreading her. Filling her. Taking her in absolute possession. Finding peace.
Caine sucked in a long, drowning breath as the quicksand of his own stupidity dragged him down and closed over his head. Damn Bliss. Damn her to hell. She had
created a chink, a shift in the already precarious balance of his life, and he didn’t know how to change everything back.
God, why did she haunt him so?
“Your life’s a bloody damn mess, old man,” he mocked himself, his tongue thick, his words slurred as his equilibrium rocked from one mammoth swell to the next. He leveled the half-empty bottle of vintage Armagnac on top of Khan’s stall door. His horse looked at him with a jaundiced eye, as if to say, “The bugger’s in his cups again.”
Suddenly Caine found the whole stinking situation enormously amusing. “Here’s to the phantom of the hall!” He lifted the bottle, one of three. Now one of only two. Soon to be none. “Bottoms up.”
He tipped the potent liquor to his lips and drained the remainder. Then, with a growl, he twisted around and flung it out the stable doors, glass splintering with a satisfying crack against the ground. A startled gasp jerked his gaze around, and there in the doorway, stood the very source of his torment.
Bliss. Lovely, wary. Lush. And damning the last shred of decency that remained in his soul.
She stared at him wide-eyed, as though believing he had gone mad. Too late; he had traversed the road to madness long ago.
Two years ago, in fact. Two years in which to stew, to wonder what form his revenge against Exmoor would take. Two years of waiting for this moment.
Tonight, he would no longer be denied.
Bliss stood rooted to the spot, Caine’s piercing gaze holding her captive, her body trembling under the blast of his fury and longing.
His shirt was undone and pulled free of his trousers, the tails hanging along his lean hips, a sheen of sweat clinging to his bare chest. And yet it was another heat that assailed her, drawn from her own body, stirred by the power of seeing him there, tall, defiant, boldly assessing her, daring her to run.
Hating her, yet wanting her.
“Odd, isn’t it, how we keep ending up here together?” His deep voice washed along her nerves and raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. “I wonder if it has some special meaning? What do you think?”
The Pleasure Seekers Page 14