He’d never thought much about this particular functioning of a woman’s body except that it had occasionally inconvenienced him. Certainly he had never thought of it as enhancing a woman’s femininity. Or a woman’s desirability. So, the surge of protectiveness combined with sheer lust he’d felt had stunned him.
And confused him. Nothing in her behaviour since that one night at Greystone had proved her to be the heartless creature he thought her. Even her rejection of his rash offer of marriage had not been in keeping with the adventuress he wanted her to be. Should she not have accepted him and all the advantages of his title and wealth? He was beginning to think he had been mistaken about her after all. But why then, would she have participated in her husband’s plot to kill him? Had Milborne some sort of hold over her? Or had she been telling the truth when she had told him that Milborne would have killed him if she had not said she was part of the trap?
Even after three years, he could still recall her face when he had told her he loved her. She had looked stricken, as if he had mortally wounded her by his declaration. He had not understood her anguish and had only known that she had thrown his love back in his face. But if she had not known of the plot, she had believed he had just purchased her favours for two thousand pounds. She must have felt as betrayed by his apparent treachery as he had felt, a few minutes later, by hers.
If she did tell the truth then, his actions towards her were unforgivable. He had stripped her of everything; her reputation, her family, all but her chastity which he had vowed to take as coolly and deliberately as possible.
He knew he was no longer capable of such callousness because he no longer hated her. If indeed, he ever had.
Jackson accosted him almost as soon as he stepped inside the inn. ‘Lady Milborne is awake. Susan has just brought her a bite to eat. She still insists she can continue with the journey.’ He looked reproachful as if it were Justin’s fault she wanted to continue.
Didn’t she have an ounce of sense? ‘I will talk to her.’
He knocked and entered when he heard her soft reply. She was in her room sitting in a chair near the bed. A cup of tea sat on a near by table. Soft colour stole into her cheeks when she saw him and he cursed the surge of desire that shot through him.
He scowled. ‘You should be in bed.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you are obviously not well.’
‘I feel much better.’ She looked discomfited. ‘I am sorry. I did not wish to delay your journey by such…such female weakness. I am certain we could continue on if you wish.’
‘Which I do not.’ He came towards her and stopped. ‘And you do not need to apologise. I do not consider this a female weakness.’
‘Don’t you? You are very kind. Which is more than I deserve—I know I have ruined your life in every way possible.’ She did not look at him.
Hell. She was about to cry. It was so unlike the cool, remote woman he knew that he was completely stunned. Just as he had been last time in his carriage. Without thinking, he reached down and took her hands and pulled her up. ‘Don’t do this,’ he said roughly. He pulled her to him, his arms going around her soft, warm body. She felt perfect in his arms, her curves melting against his. She pressed her face into his chest and then gave a little sniff. He groaned and then tilted her chin up. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes questioning and then his mouth came down on hers.
She offered no resistance this time. Her hands tangled in his hair, inflaming his desire. He rained kisses on her mouth and then on her neck. His hands cupped her breasts and although she stiffened for a moment, she made no protest when his fingers circled the hard nipples beneath her gown. His hand splayed her soft belly. The realisation she wore no stays threatened to drive him over the edge.
It was only when he realised he was about to push her down on the bed that sanity returned and he pulled his mouth from hers. She was breathing hard and when she opened her eyes, he saw his own desire reflected in her hazel eyes. That she returned his desire stunned him for he had thought she would resist him to the end.
He felt a brief surge of triumph at finally breaking down her resistance, but the victory was short-lived. He wanted all of her, not just her body and the thought terrified him.
He took a step back. ‘I should let you rest.’
‘Yes.’ She pulled her gaze away from him. He could almost feel her inwardly retreating from him.
‘Then if you are well enough we will leave in the morning.’
‘Very well.’ The distance in her voice was there.
He wanted to swear. Instead, he pulled her around to face him. ‘Goodnight, Belle.’ He kissed her again roughly, and then left.
They reached Falconcliff three days later.
Belle had her first glimpse of it as they rounded a bend in the road. The carriage had been travelling a route that followed the winding cliffs along the coast. She had been fascinated by her glimpses of the water pounding against the shore and Jackson spoke to her twice before she realised he had addressed her. She looked up and saw the house. It sat on the edge of a promontory, a square sprawling structure of grey stone, silhouetted against the clear blue sky. It looked rather romantic and frightening all at once. She tore her gaze away and fought down the unexpected bout of nerves that suddenly hit her. ‘I do not suppose there are any ghosts,’ she said to Jackson.
He smiled. ‘I have not heard of any. Although there are certain passageways where one might expect to see a spectre. Two decades ago, however, you might have encountered a smuggler or two.’
‘They were actually in the house, I believe.’ She could still recall the teasing glint in Justin’s eye when he had told her about the smugglers and how, as a boy, he had actually watched them bring a boatload of goods ashore. Instead of being properly frightened, however, she had turned the tables on him and declared she could think of nothing more interesting than seeing such a thing. She fought down the wave of sadness. She doubted Justin would ever tease her again in such a way.
‘Only in the cellars,’ Jackson said. ‘The current Duke’s grandfather did not care for the property and left the running of it solely in his steward’s hands. His steward was nicely bribed to turn a blind eye to the more illegal activities taking place on the estate. However, the next Duke chose to put a stop to it. Some of the passages leading to the cellars were starting to cave in and he feared there would soon be a loss of life.’
She smiled at Jackson. ‘So at least there is something romantic about the house.’
They had become quite companionable. She had discovered he was the youngest son of a rector and he was also much more to Justin than a secretary; he often acted as an adviser, and even more than that, he was a friend.
She had increasingly come to view him as her friend as well. She hardly counted Justin in that category. Since that night he had kissed her, she had scarcely seen him except at meals. He had returned to the stiff formality he had shown most of the trip and she would have thought he was completely indifferent to her, but once or twice she had caught a look almost of longing in his eyes when they rested on her.
Her marriage had taught her that it was possible for desire and contempt to co-exist and Justin could want her without even liking her. But she could not forget his kindness in a situation that had only filled Lucien with contempt.
She had no idea what would happen once they reached Falconcliff. In fact, she had no idea what he expected of her at all.
Chapter Nine
The housekeeper, Mrs Keith, was tall and very stout, with a walk that looked exactly like a duck’s. Belle followed her up the winding staircase and down a narrow hall that seemed to go on forever. Mrs Keith finally stopped in front of one of the doors. ‘This will be your chamber, my lady. I hope you will find it suitable.’
Belle stepped inside. It was an enormous room with a carved wooden mantelpiece on one side and tall windows. The bed was huge and old-fashioned and there was an old chest in one corner. ‘It will be very suitable
,’ she said, although in truth she found it rather daunting.
Mrs Keith opened a door on the wall opposite the bed. ‘This is the sitting room.’ She seemed to be waiting for Belle’s perusal so Belle obediently looked at the room. It was smaller than the bedchamber and at first glance, appeared much more cosy.
‘His Grace said you did not bring a maid with you. I will send Ellen in to help you unpack. Perhaps you will wish to rest before dinner. His Grace keeps country hours.’ Mrs Keith paused. ‘Is there anything else you need, my lady?’
‘No, not now.’ Belle waited until the housekeeper had bustled out before sinking down on the wing chair near the window. Her head ached a little from the coach journey and she felt tired and rather homesick. She missed Chloe terribly. And even Maria, despite everything.
She clasped her hands together and refused to give into the desire to burst into tears. On the journey, as uncomfortable and disconcerting as it had been, she had felt suspended in time. Her time in London seemed ages ago and what awaited her at the journey’s end had been enveloped in a foggy future. Her headache and cramps had subsided by the third day and she had almost looked forward to sitting in the carriage and watching the countryside pass. There had been a certain predictability in her days. But now she had arrived, she had no idea what would happen.
She rose and looked out of the window. Her room faced a rather tangled garden with an old wooden arbour and a bench. Beyond the garden she could see an expanse of lawn bordered by trees and shrubs. And beyond that a glimpse of sparkling blue water. The sun was shining although huge white clouds drifted overhead.
She was tired but too restless to lie down. Perhaps a walk would take her mind off other things. Justin had briefly greeted her, but after he saw her into the house had departed again. Apparently she was to be left to her own devices.
So it hardly mattered whether she stayed in the house or not.
The scratch on the door made her turn. A young maid entered. She looked rather hesitant. ‘I am Ellen, my lady. Mrs Keith sent me to help you. She said you would like to rest. Should I help you undress?’
‘Thank you, Ellen, but I have decided I would like to walk instead.’ Belle smiled at the girl. ‘Perhaps you could tell me if it is possible to view the sea from the grounds.’
‘There is a path that leads from the garden. But it is overgrown.’
‘Could you show me from the window?’ Belle asked.
Ellen walked to the window. ‘See? It is the one by the bench.’
There was indeed a path that led into the trees on one side of the house. ‘That is what I will do, then.’ She smiled again at Ellen, liking her sweet, round face. ‘Can you show me the best way to get to the garden?’
Ellen returned her smile a little shyly. Belle tied the ribbons of her bonnet and then drew on her gloves. She finally decided she would take a shawl and draped it over her gown and was glad of Ellen’s direction for the passages in the house seemed long and confusing. They finally came to a drawing room where French windows led to a terrace with steps down to the garden. She left Ellen and stepped out on to the terrace. The sun touched her cheeks and she could smell the tantalising scent of the sea.
Ellen had not been wrong; the path was overgrown and after catching her shawl twice on branches, she finally came to an opening. The path opened to a cliff and spread before her, sparkling like the bluest gem, was the sea. She caught her breath, never having imagined it to be so blue. Or so expansive that she would feel like a mere speck. The air smelled wet and salty and wonderful and Belle suddenly felt a surge of happiness.
She pulled off her bonnet, wanting to feel the breeze and the sun on her face and knowing perfectly well she would freckle by tomorrow. She started to walk, not really caring where she went, only that she wanted more of the treasure in front of her.
She finally came to an old wooden bench and sat down. Far out from shore she saw the sails of a vessel, and closer in, a few smaller craft bobbing on the water. Seabirds circled in the sky and occasionally she could hear their cries. Absorbed in the scene before her, she jumped when she heard a shout.
‘Belle!’
She jerked around. Justin was striding towards her. He was hatless, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. He halted in front of her. ‘What the devil are you doing here and by yourself?’
Her pleasure was abruptly shattered. ‘I wanted to view the sea. I have never seen it before.’
‘Alone? When I was informed you had left the house without a word—’ He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Damn it, Belle! I thought….’ He scowled.
‘You thought what?’
‘Nothing,’ he said shortly.
With sudden insight, she saw his dark looks actually hid worry. ‘You thought that I had left?’
‘I’ve no idea what I thought. Don’t ever go from the house again like that.’
He had really thought she would just leave him. Belle stood. ‘I won’t. I promise I will always leave word with you where I am. It was only that I wanted to see the water and I thought you were probably occupied with other matters and would not notice if I slipped away for a little while.’
‘You should not be here alone. You do not know your way.’
‘I thought I would follow the exact path back. Since there is only one I have no doubt I would have made it safely back to the house.’
‘I don’t want you wandering around by yourself.’
She should be angry at his arrogance, instead she wanted to touch his face and kiss away the stubborn look. ‘Very well, your Grace. I promise I will not wander about by myself. Will that satisfy you?’
‘No.’ His eyes locked with hers for a moment and then he gave a short laugh. ‘Yes.’ He moved a little away from her. ‘So you have never seen the sea?’
‘No, not until today.’ She smiled at him. ‘It is so big and so endless. I think I could sit here for hours and just look and never have enough of it!’
His mouth was beginning to relax. ‘You have decided all of this in less than half a day?’
‘Yes. I knew from the moment I saw it from the carriage. Which is why I decided straight away to come here.’
‘Then your effort should not be wasted. We can go to the shore if you’d like.’
‘Oh, I would! If you do not have something else you would rather do.’
‘No, I do not.’ He ran his eyes over her. ‘You should put on your bonnet.’
She had forgotten about it. She put it on and quickly tied the ribbons.
‘This way,’ he said. They walked for a short distance to where another path branched off down the slope. He started down first and then held out his hand. ‘It is a bit steep. I would not want you to slip.’
She placed her hand in his and he helped her down the path. It was steep and rocky in places and she was glad she had worn her half-boots. She nearly slipped at the bottom and then she forgot about the path when she reached the end and found herself in a small cove with a sandy beach. He led her towards the shore and they stood there for a moment, watching the waves lap. His hand felt warm and strong around hers and, for a moment, she felt completely safe with him.
It was an odd sensation, one she had so rarely experienced since her marriage, that she was stunned.
She looked up at him, taking in the strong lines of his jaw and nose, the dark lashes that surrounded his dark eyes. Certainly he was handsome, but it was the strength of his personality that made him so devastatingly attractive. Too attractive. She caught her breath and looked away. It would be too easy to fall in love with him. She could not allow that.
Justin released her hand. ‘We can get closer if you’d like. You can remove your boots and stand in the waves.’
She looked back up at him and his eye held a distinctly devilish gleam, as if he expected her to refuse such a scandalous idea. She smiled. ‘I would like that.’ She looked around and saw a large piece of whitish wood she could use for a bench. She sat and then reached down and began to unl
ace her half-boots.
The next thing she knew he was kneeling at her feet and his hand stayed hers. ‘I can do this.’ His eyes locked with hers, the devilish glint still there. She felt breathless when she realised he was flirting with her. As he had at Greystone.
She gave a little laugh. ‘I really do not think it is at all fitting to have a duke at my feet.’
‘Why not?’ His mouth curved in a wicked smile. ‘I am at your service, my lady. As I always have been.’
Her cheeks heated. ‘I do not think I need your services.’
‘No? You might change your mind.’ His gaze went to her mouth.
‘I…’ The most wanton thoughts filled her head. Thoughts that had to do with lips, and tongues and heat. She jerked her hand out from under his and straightened. ‘I…I have changed my mind about wading.’
He finished unlacing her first boot. ‘Afraid? There is no need to be. I will make certain you won’t be hurt.’
She had no idea whether he was talking about the water or something else entirely. Her body felt hot and prickly as he untied the laces to her other boot and then gently removed it from her foot. But when his hand moved up her ankles to her calf, she yelped. ‘Wh…what are you doing?’
His brow shot up. ‘Removing your stockings. I would not think you would want them to get wet.’
‘Actually I do not mind at all.’ His hand still rested on her calf, burning through the thin silk.
‘They will be ruined. Besides, you will not experience the full pleasures of the water lapping over your feet. Or the sand between your toes.’
‘Then I will remove them myself.’
‘But I insist.’ His voice was polite as if he was merely offering to allow her to go first through a doorway.
‘No! It would not be at all proper. We are in a…a public place and anyone could come along. Please, I would rather do it myself.’
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