Heart's Debt (Lost Lords Book 5)

by Cheryl Holt

“Not usually. You simply bring out the worst in me.”

  She sat up and stood too, and to his delight, she slipped her hand into his and led him to the door.

  “I still haven’t figured out your purpose in visiting me,” she told him.

  “I own this bloody farm,” he crudely said. “I don’t need a reason to go anywhere on it.”

  “Yes, but if seduction was your goal, you didn’t try very hard to succeed.”

  “I beg to disagree. I was very successful. I kissed you senseless, didn’t I? I’ve worn you down to the point that we’re debating terms.”

  “Do you know what I think?”

  “No, but I suppose you’ll tell me.”

  “I think you enjoy my company.”

  “It could be.”

  “You’re lonely.”

  “Lonely!” he huffed. He always was, but he’d never admit it. “I merely felt like bothering you. That’s all it was. I hate the country, and I’m incredibly bored.”

  “You were bored?”

  “Yes.”

  “And out of all the people on the estate, in the village, and in the neighborhood, I was the only person who could entertain you?”

  “You fascinate me, Georgina, remember?”

  “You fascinate me too, Mr. Drummond, but not in a good way.”

  “Damian,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, Damian.”

  “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said. “Meet me in my private quarters.”

  “I most certainly will not.”

  “I’m afraid I have to insist.”

  “I’m afraid I have to too.”

  “If you don’t show up, I’ll come over here and carry you there.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would, and I’d do it loudly and boisterously so everyone can watch me.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t scare me, Damian. You would never behave like that.”

  “I might.”

  He grinned, and she grinned too.

  “Goodnight,” she murmured.

  “Goodnight.”

  He reveled in a long, slow kiss, which was intriguing. He’d never spent so much time kissing any woman. When he was with a female, he was always in a hurry, desperate to get to the end of the road. He hadn’t realized the journey in between could be so sweet.

  “Ten o’clock,” he said again as he pulled away.

  “I’ll consider it.”

  She opened the door without glancing out to see if anyone was walking by, and he almost wished Augusta had been there to observe them. He’d love for her to discover him strolling out of Georgina’s room. It would underscore his power over all of them.

  He sauntered back to the manor at a leisurely pace. There was a precious languor to the interval he’d passed with her, and he didn’t want it to fade.

  When he entered his suite, he was still smiling. Briefly he wondered if she’d appear the following morning as he’d commanded, but it didn’t matter. If she didn’t, he’d march over and fetch her. He’d threatened he would, and he’d been serious. He relished the notion of how she’d spit and fight and complain.

  As he poured himself a brandy, as he sat in the chair by the fire, he hoped the scene would play out exactly that way.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Let me take down your hair.”

  “Must you?”

  “Yes, I must.”

  Kit spun Sophia and tugged out the combs that held her blond tresses in place. The golden strands tumbled down her back in an enticing wave. As he nibbled at her nape, she shivered, and he grinned, ecstatic that she’d been brave enough to visit him.

  He was randy as a bridegroom and could barely restrain himself from falling on her like a ravening beast. But he didn’t dare. He intended they would have a lengthy and satisfying affair so he had to ease her into carnal conduct.

  “Lie down with me,” he whispered.

  Skittish as a colt, she glanced at the bed. She’d agreed to stay, but she was trembling, clearly not convinced she’d made the correct decision. He slipped an arm around her waist and tumbled them onto the mattress. In a swift second, the worst part was over, and they were comfortably snuggled together.

  Not giving her a chance to fret, he began kissing her. He’d kissed her previously so it was familiar territory, and she heartily joined in. Yet too quickly, he realized he was in over his head.

  She attracted him as no other female ever had. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d been enthralled. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and it dawned on him that he and Damian were destined to have a long talk.

  Kit pictured himself as a decent fellow, and while he’d told Sophia they would have an illicit fling, he couldn’t imagine behaving so reprehensibly. She’d been the one to point out that a lurid liaison couldn’t be hidden from the servants or neighbors so he had two options. He could halt immediately and walk her to Drummond Cottage with no harm done. Or he could proceed with their dalliance and jump to becoming a husband once they were through.

  “Why did we stop?” she asked as he pulled away.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “About you.”

  “I’m delighted to hear it, and since we’re on your bed, and I’ve let down my hair you’d better be thinking about me.”

  He chuckled, then sobered. “I haven’t been very kind to you.”

  “You’ve been unkind in some ways, but you’ve been awfully kind in others. You offered to help me when no one else would. In my book that’s being very kind.”

  “I’ve been horrid too. I’ve pressured you to succumb to my male attentions in order to get that help.”

  “I haven’t succumbed to pressure though. I’m an adult and I can make my own choices. I choose to be here with you.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “So am I.”

  He sat up and yanked her up too. As he climbed to the floor and dragged over a chair, she frowned. They were facing each other, her hands clasped in his own.

  “You look incredibly serious,” she said. “What’s wrong? Please don’t confess a terrible secret. I’ve had enough bad news this week.”

  “It’s not terrible.” He frowned too. “Well, I hope you won’t view it as terrible.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want to ask you a question.”

  “Ask away,” she blithely retorted.

  “Don’t be shocked and promise you won’t laugh.”

  “If it’s extremely absurd, I might not be able to prevent a giggle from slipping out.” Appearing concerned, she sighed and shifted nearer. “Just tell me, Kit. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fine.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. Took another and let that out too. “I’ve had a hard life.”

  “I’m sorry for you.”

  “My father died when I was little, and after he was gone, it was difficult for my mother without him.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “We lived in a village outside of London.”

  “What about your father? Was he in trade?”

  “Something like that,” he lied.

  His father had actually been a wealthy landowner. They’d resided in a grand house on a huge farm, with tenants and servants and lots of animals and all the rest. But he’d never been precisely certain of what had transpired after his father perished.

  His mother had been kicked out and left penniless. Vaguely he recalled quarrels late at night, his mother fighting with his uncle, his father’s brother, then relatives had swooped in and seized their belongings.

  At least he recollected that as being how it had happened. He’d never been positive of the details and wasn’t even sure he’d lived near London. As a desperate orphan, he’d concocted many parts of his history, and it was tricky to separate what was real and what he’d invented.

  “My mother couldn’t care for us, and she died too. My siblings and I had to fend for ourselves.�
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  “How many siblings do you have?”

  “Two sisters and a brother.”

  “Are they in London?”

  He lied again. “No, they’ve passed on too.”

  He had no idea whether they’d survived or not. He liked to envision them thriving in London where he’d last seen them, but the more likely ending was that they were all dead.

  “You’re all alone in the world,” she murmured.

  “With Damian as my only friend.”

  She smiled sympathetically. “You poor thing.”

  “I’ve always been anxious to replace what I had. Damian is giving me the chance to replace the home, but I have to find my own wife and family.”

  “He won’t arrange a match for you?” she facetiously said.

  “Oh, he probably would if I asked him, but I couldn’t bear to have him lecture me on the perils of matrimony.”

  “He deems it folly?”

  “Absolute folly.”

  “He’s an outlier then. The whole kingdom marries. It’s the road people are expected to travel.”

  “I know so…” He took another deep breath and let it out. “Will you marry me, Sophia?”

  Her head was cocked to the side as if he’d spoken in a foreign language she didn’t comprehend. “What did you say?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  She blanched. “Gad, that’s what I thought you said.”

  “I’ve been insisting I couldn’t propose, but I’ve had a change of heart.”

  “Why? When?” She scoffed. “I’m babbling. You’ve rendered me incoherent.”

  “I don’t want a mistress. I don’t want to use you badly.”

  “I don’t want that either.”

  “I should behave properly toward you and have you as my bride. Will you have me too?”

  She studied him, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she tried to figure out his ploy, but he had no ploy. He was ready to wed, and Damian had given him the means to proceed.

  “I’m confused,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “When we were in the sitting room, you lured me into your bed with a lewd proposition. I joined you to save myself and matrimony wasn’t on the table.”

  “I told you I had a change of heart.”

  “But so quickly! We walked twenty steps from there to here, and you’re suddenly eager to be a husband.”

  “It sounds mad, I know.”

  “Pardon me if I’m a little perplexed. You want me by your side as you take over the reins at Kirkwood. You think I’d be up to the challenge.”

  “Yes. You once mentioned that you’d been raised to order the servants about, and it’s all you’ve truly been trained to do.”

  She chuckled. “You’re right about that.”

  “You’d have one other job too.”

  “What would it be?”

  “You’d have to try to make me happy. I realize you’re spoiled and selfish.”

  “I am not,” she huffed. She paused, then scowled. “Well, maybe just a tad.”

  “It might be hard for you to shift your attention from yourself to me, but I need you to promise you’ll try. If you can promise, then I’ll be delighted to wed you.”

  Apparently it was the correct comment, because tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Kit, that’s the prettiest speech I’ve ever heard, but what about Mr. Drummond? You claimed he’d never let you marry me.”

  “That’s between him and me. You shouldn’t worry about it.”

  He couldn’t predict how Damian would react. For a bit of time, he’d probably be furious, but Kit would persuade him to accept the match. Their history was lengthy and poignant, and they were closer than two brothers could ever be. He owed Damian everything, but Damian owed him a few things too.

  Kit had always been devoted and loyal. He’d stood as Damian’s friend, had bandaged his wounds and calmed him after vicious fights or terrifying nightmares. Kit had supported Damian in his every endeavor and had never asked Damian for a single favor in return.

  He didn’t suppose Damian would throw it all away over a female, even if it was Sophia Marshall. They’d grown up in a world where there weren’t many females, where men had vastly outnumbered the women so they’d witnessed how foolish men were over women. They’d agreed that a woman wasn’t worth so much bother.

  Yet what if Kit explained and begged and pleaded, and Damian still warned him not to proceed? Kit refused to consider that Damian would behave that way. They were friends, and he had to assume Damian would understand.

  “You have to provide me with some facts about your background,” she said.

  “Why? You were prepared to debase yourself in an affair without knowing any specifics at all.”

  “Yes, I was, but matters have become more serious.”

  “I don’t remember sufficient detail to give you much information.”

  “How old were you when your mother died?”

  “Five? Six?”

  “Where did you live after your mother lost your home?”

  “In London.”

  It was a lie and it wasn’t. He’d foraged on the streets of London until he was ten, until he and Damian had been arrested. But he’d been thoroughly punished for his crimes, and he wasn’t about to confide that portion of his past. If he did, he’d be confiding Damian’s story too, and if Damian decided to let anyone at Kirkwood learn the truth he could tell them himself.

  “You’ve obviously been educated,” she said.

  “Yes, I went to school.”

  The authorities had been adamant about it, viewing it as part of his rehabilitation.

  “You dress well and speak well.” She blushed charmingly. “I’m not certain how to ask you this.”

  “Ask away,” he replied as she had earlier.

  “Have you any…ah…any money?”

  “I have more than enough.”

  It had been a surprise gift bestowed once Damian had returned to England. Gold, from Damian’s gold mining ventures. A veritable fortune for a man of Kit’s station. He hadn’t expected it and would always cherish it.

  He’d have his post at Kirkwood too, and it was more important to him than the gold Damian had shared. Kit wanted to work and be useful, wanted to prove to himself and his deceased parents that he was a good person, a reliable person.

  He was ashamed of his conviction and incarceration, and while he realized he’d merely been a boy struggling to survive, he hated that he’d disgraced his name and his family. He would spend the remainder of his days wiping away the taint that had attached in Botany Bay.

  “You could support me?” she inquired. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, I have some assets of my own, and I’ll have the salary from running Kirkwood.”

  “It will be a step down for me,” she absurdly mused.

  At the snotty remark, he scoffed. “A step down from where? From where I’m standing, you don’t have anything, not even a gown to call your own. I’m offering you a place, a husband, a home.”

  “Don’t get yourself in a tiff,” she scolded. “I was destined to be Harold’s bride and lady of the manor at his estate. Now I’ll be the estate agent’s wife instead.”

  “A few minutes ago, you were slated to be the estate agent’s mistress.”

  “Wouldn’t my cousin, Georgina, suit you better? She seems to be precisely who you’re looking for. I don’t see that I have any of the traits you need in a wife.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “I simply want you to try to make me happy. That will be your only job, and I’m not demanding you succeed. I’m asking you to try. It doesn’t sound very hard to me, and I’m convinced you have the skills for it or I wouldn’t have proposed.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Deep down, you might be the sweetest man in the world.”

  He shrugged. “I might be, but you’ll have to wed me to know for sure.”

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nbsp; She gazed at him, and her focus narrowed as if she was clairvoyant and peering into the future, but who could guess how it would unfold?

  “Take a chance on me, Sophia,” he said.

  “My mother will kill me.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your mother.”

  An impish gleam came into her eye. “Neither do I.”

  “Is that a yes? Is that what I heard?”

  “I think that’s a yes. I’ll marry you.”

  “Good, but it means I’m walking you back to the cottage.”

  She stared at the bed as if she couldn’t bear to leave it. “Are we finished for the evening?”

  “Yes. I’m about to make an honest woman of you, Sophia. When that’s my goal, I shouldn’t debauch you right before the ceremony.”

  “You could debauch me a little bit, couldn’t you? Enough to get me excited for our wedding night?”

  He grinned, her comment indicating he’d chosen correctly. “Yes, I can definitely do some debauching, but only a little, you minx. You have to wait until after the vows for the whole surprise.”

  “Will I like it?” she saucily asked.

  “I betting you will. In fact, I’m staking the rest of my life on it.”

  He pushed her down and joined her on the mattress.

  “Hello, Portia.”

  “Augusta.”

  Augusta forced a smile and motioned for Portia to sit. They were in the dining room at Drummond Cottage, Georgina having straightened it sufficiently that the windows were open, the table dusted, the chairs neatly arranged. It wasn’t much, but it was better than being seated out in the dirt on the ground.

  There wasn’t a spot in the dilapidated residence that was suitable to entertain a guest, but she hadn’t invited Portia, and if the accursed girl didn’t like the surroundings she didn’t have to stay.

  Portia had grown up next door, and Augusta had viewed her as a sort of second daughter. Yet after her last visit when she’d been rude about Miles’s financial troubles, Augusta would have been delighted to never see Portia again.

  “Has there been any word from Miles?” Portia asked as she plopped down in a chair. She wrinkled her nose as if she couldn’t abide the smell. Augusta had no sympathy for her. She couldn’t abide the smell either.

  “No.”

  “Have you any idea where he is?”