Julie Garwood

by Rebellious Desire

  It was late evening when Bradford confronted his wife in the study. He admitted his confusion over her behavior, and that seemed to anger Caroline all the more. She was dressed in a simple gown of royal blue, with a heavy shawl wrapped over her shoulders for added warmth.

  “When will you accept that I’m not like other women?” Caroline asked him. She stood before the roaring fire and warmed her hands, her back to her husband. “I don’t want your expensive jewels.”

  “Then the finer things of life don’t appeal to you?” Bradford asked. His voice was deceptively calm. Caroline turned and saw the glint of anger in his eyes.

  “There are other possessions far more enticing,” Caroline replied. She hesitated then, trying to form a way to tell him that she would have his love and trust above all else. She knew that as soon as she started on that topic her husband would close his mind to her, and she was desperate to find an avenue into his heart.

  “I’ve made a serious error in dealing with you,” Bradford decreed. The arrogance was back in his voice when he continued, “Tomorrow you’ll pack your belongings and travel to the other side of the estate. There is a house there, the first ever built by a Bradford. You tell me that luxuries mean nothing to you. Well, wife, prove it! Let’s see how long it takes you to admit the truth.”

  Caroline nodded, trying to hide her distress. How could they ever resolve their differences if they lived in separate houses? “And will you live there with me?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  Bradford saw the alarm in her eyes and almost smiled. He believed that he had finally found a way to make her come to her senses. “No,” he answered. “The men that I hired to see to your protection will go with you and I’ll return to London. When my business is finished there, I’ll return to this house. Unlike you, my dear wife, I admit that I enjoy the comforts my wealth provides.”

  “And will you have other women in your bed when you are in London?” Caroline asked in a very mild tone. Her back was to her husband and he couldn’t see her expression.

  He was clearly amazed by her question. Since meeting Caroline, he hadn’t considered touching any other woman and the thought now repulsed him. He recognized that he held another weapon to hurt her with, but didn’t have the heart to use it. “No.” He didn’t offer any additional explanation but waited for Caroline to make a comment.

  “Thank you.” The simple return pushed him off center again.

  “Why?” Bradford asked. “Why does it matter to you?”

  Caroline slowly walked over to stand directly in front of her husband. He was leaning against the edge of the desk. “Because I love you, Jered Marcus Benton,” she said, looking into his eyes, her gaze hiding nothing.

  “You have a strange way of showing your love,” he commented. He reached out and cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. “I didn’t force you from my bed, Caroline. You left of your own accord.”

  Caroline didn’t reply to his remark. She just continued to look up at him until he couldn’t withstand the temptation a second longer. His lips brushed hers, and when she didn’t try to pull away, he kissed her again. And again.

  Caroline’s mouth opened under his tender assault and her hands slipped around his waist. She held nothing back, letting him feel her need, her love.

  Bradford’s tongue stroked the sweet warmth her mouth offered, kindling the embers of desire with each erotic touch. The kiss changed, became rough with insistence. The shawl fell to the floor when she was abruptly pulled against Bradford’s hips.

  She never wanted the kiss to end, and when Bradford tore his mouth from hers and began to tease and torment the side of her neck, Caroline sighed with a mixture of pleasure and building frustration.

  “I’m going to have you tonight,” Bradford said in a voice as soft as velvet. He kissed her again, a long, hot, drugging kiss meant to quell any thoughts of resistance, and then lifted her into his arms and carried her up to his bedroom.

  “No arguments, wife?” Bradford asked after he had closed the door and turned back to her.

  Caroline shook her head. Bradford kissed her again and then slowly, methodically stripped her. He removed his own clothes next, surprised when Caroline knelt before him and assisted him with his boots.

  She was conceding to his wishes tonight, and Bradford found himself frowning over the abrupt change.

  Caroline stood up and walked over to the bed. Bradford watched her, thinking that she was the most graceful of women, and the most innocently sensual. And then he was through thinking.

  Twin candles burned on each side of the bed and Bradford didn’t snuff them out, wishing to see Caroline’s passion as well as feel it.

  He jerked the covers back and settled himself on his side. He wanted to savor the moment, build the anticipation, but as soon as he took her into his arms and felt her softness against him, he couldn’t hold back. He kissed her almost savagely, consumed by an intense hunger only she could satisfy.

  He couldn’t be gentle this night and Caroline, whose need matched her husband’s, didn’t want the teasing torment that always came before. Her nails scraped his shoulders while her hips pushed against his for fulfillment.

  Bradford entered her with a full thrust. Caroline let out a soft cry and he immediately stopped, tensing against her. “God, Caroline, I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

  He started to pull away but Caroline arched against him, trapping him inside her with her nails digging into his hips. “Don’t stop, Bradford, please,” she begged.

  Bradford cupped the sides of her face and watched the pleasure he gave his wife with each thrust. Her eyes had turned the color of deep blue and when he increased his pace, she moaned, a deep primitive sound that reached his soul, pulled him into the eye of the storm.

  He surrendered to the splendor when he felt Caroline tense against him and knew that she had found her release. And then he collapsed on top of her, spent and satisfied.

  Caroline listened to Bradford’s harsh breathing, felt his heart beat against her own, and closed her eyes with a sigh of contentment.

  And then she waited for him to tell her that he loved her. With each passing second, her contentment faded.

  Bradford rolled to his side and took Caroline into his arms. “It seems that this is the only place where we don’t argue,” he whispered.

  “Are the beds comfortable at Bradford Place?” she asked. Her casual question told him that nothing had changed.

  He refused to let her rile him. “Some of it isn’t furnished. God, but you’re stubborn, Caroline. Only admit that you belong to me and you can stay here.”

  “I have never said that I didn’t belong to you,” Caroline replied, surprised by his interpretation. “You know exactly why we argue. And until you realize that I won’t settle for—”

  “You can take what you need from this house,” Bradford interrupted. He wasn’t about to back down, and his remark told Caroline just how unbending he was.

  “Why do you send the guards with me?” she asked, changing the subject. “I know that you talked with Rachel,” she added, trying to see his face.

  Bradford held her against his chest, ignoring her struggle to move. “Rachel wasn’t responsible,” he announced. “She wasn’t behind the attempts.”

  “Are you sure?” Caroline succeeded in pulling free of Bradford’s arms. She sat up and frowned in confusion.

  Bradford appreciated the pretty picture his wife presented. Her curly hair tumbled around her face, enhancing the slender column of her neck. The tops of her breasts peeked out from the covers she clutched to herself, enticing him.

  “Bradford, I asked you if you were sure,” Caroline stated again.

  Bradford reluctantly pulled himself back to the conversation. “I’m sure.”

  Caroline sighed. “You know, I believe you have a very relaxed attitude about all this,” she muttered. “If someone had tried to harm you, I would tear London apart looking for him. You act bored with the matter
.”

  “I promised that I would handle the situation,” Bradford stated. “You don’t need to know more than that. It’s my worry, not yours.”

  “No, Bradford, it’s our worry.”

  Bradford sighed over that remark and then commented, “Rachel believes that you’ve succeeded in talking your father out of marrying her mother. She had grand plans of a financial arrangement and you threw a stick in her spokes.”

  “Why would she think such a ridiculous thing?” Caroline asked, showing her amazement.

  Bradford thought a long minute and then made the decision to tell her. “Because your father told her so.”

  “But why would he do that?”

  “Caroline, your father was being pressured and he used you as his excuse. It was too difficult to tell Rachel’s mother the truth, that he didn’t want to marry her. He took the easy way out, by using you as the scapegoat.”

  Caroline shook her head, denying it was true. “That would be a cowardly thing to do,” she whispered.

  “In most cases,” Bradford agreed. He reached out and pulled Caroline back into his arms. “But your father is different. He lived alone, in his own little world, for such a long time—”

  “Fourteen years,” Caroline interjected.

  “Yes, well, he isn’t sophisticated enough to deal with the likes of the Tillman woman. Her claws were out to trap him and he used the only route of escape he could think of.”

  “He was afraid to be honest with her?” Caroline asked. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  Bradford sighed again. “He’s an old man, Caroline, and set in his ways. Think of him as bewildered, not afraid.”

  “He was afraid fourteen years ago when he sent me to his brother in Boston. I’m sure of it.”

  “He had just lost his wife and newborn son. Caroline, the man was overwhelmed with grief.”

  She was barely listening as Bradford continued to argue in her father’s favor. She realized that he was defending her father’s behavior. Instead of a rigid, unbending conclusion that her father had acted like a coward, he argued that the opposite was true. He was being both understanding and compassionate.

  Why couldn’t he be more understanding with her? she wondered. Why couldn’t he unbend, just a little, for her? There was a shield around his heart, protecting his vulnerability, Caroline knew, but she didn’t know how to remove it.

  Bradford had stopped talking and his even, deep breathing told her that he was fast asleep. She tried to move away but his grip tightened around her.

  Caroline closed her eyes but didn’t go to sleep for a long time. Her mind raced with questions and decisions. She knew that her husband cared for her, more deeply than he realized. Perhaps it was just a matter of time before he admitted his love. And would trust come with that admission?

  Caroline honestly didn’t know. She had called him her opponent in their battle to understand each other. She remembered telling him that he didn’t really know her at all. Bradford had proved the truth of her convictions when he tried to buy her forgiveness with the expensive jewels. Perhaps the women he had known in the past would have settled for that much, but Caroline still demanded more. She wanted the shield torn from his heart. She wanted it all.

  The surprise of listening to Bradford argue in favor of her father told her that she too had made a grave mistake. She had never taken the time to learn the reasons behind his cynicism, only railed against the results of his sour disposition where women were concerned. She didn’t know her opponent either.

  Caroline decided on one last attack against his armor and found herself praying with determination. She might not be able to demolish his defenses, but she would damn well put a few dents in them!

  Caroline was up, dressed, and in the middle of packing her things before Bradford woke up. As soon as he saw what she was doing, he became irritated. “This is nonsense,” he muttered.

  Caroline stopped folding the gown and dropped it on the bed. “I agree.” She walked over to the connecting door, where her husband stood, and lifted on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t want to leave,” she told him. “And if you will only promise me that you will have complete faith in me, I’ll unpack.”

  “Caroline, I’m not awake enough to spar with you yet. It’s my duty to protect you from any threat, both from outside forces and from within. I don’t need to make promises when I’ll see that you aren’t given the opportunity to stray.”

  “You insult me again with your beliefs, Bradford,” Caroline announced. “But I’ll forgive you for it. You don’t know any better.” She turned from him then and resumed packing, tears stinging her eyes.

  Bradford was tired of the way she continually tried to manipulate him. He would have demanded a stop if he hadn’t had two motives for sending her away. His primary reason was for Caroline’s protection. He wanted his wife safe when he put his plan to trap her enemy into action, and Bradford Place, a fortress built during the Middle Ages, would more than fit the bill. The house was all of stone and situated on the top of a barren hill. Anyone approaching could be seen from a good half-mile’s distance. He would send two guards with Caroline, and three others were already at the fortress.

  The other reason, though paltry in comparison to his wife’s safety, had to do with the method of gaining control. He was out to teach his Caroline a well-deserved lesson, and when the week of isolation was completed, he was sure she would be more than willing to return to the luxury he could provide her.

  She had the audacity to kiss him good-bye! They stood together on the marble steps of Bradford Hills and said their farewells. Bradford thought he looked grim with his determination and considered that his wife looked ready to conquer the world.

  He considered telling her that this wasn’t an adventure but a penance, but decided to keep his silence. When she saw Bradford Place, she would know the truth of it.

  “Caroline, you must stay an entire week no matter what your inclinations are. Is that understood?”

  Caroline nodded and turned to leave, but Bradford stopped her with his hand. “I’ll have your word first. You’ll not leave the property for one week, no matter what the reason given, no matter what—”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Bradford muttered. “I want your word, Caroline.”

  He was squeezing her shoulders so firmly that Caroline thought she might carry bruises for a couple of days. She frowned over his demand. “You have my word, Bradford.”

  “And when you decide, after the full week, to return to my side where you belong, I’ll be waiting for your apology.”

  Caroline pulled free of his hold and started down the steps. “Bradford, don’t frown so,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ve given you my word on the matter.” She started to get into the carriage and suddenly turned back to him. “Of course, you’ll have to trust me to keep it.”

  She couldn’t resist the barb and felt very smug over her husband’s startled reaction.

  The smugness evaporated with the distance that separated her from her husband. It took almost four hours to reach Bradford Place. Her husband’s vast land holdings were filled with hills and Caroline counted three en route to her temporary home. She prayed that it was temporary and that her husband would miss her. Maybe the separation would prove worth the pain. Maybe he would miss her enough to realize he loved her.

  And maybe apples can fly, Caroline thought when she finally saw the house. The monstrosity looked cold and depressing. It sat on top of the hill, all alone, without the relief of a single tree to break the austerity. There was a wide creek circling the base of the hill. A decrepit-looking wooden bridge arched across the murky water, but the guards accompanying her insisted that she walk across in case the wood couldn’t hold the weight of the carriage.

  A closer look at her new home didn’t make Caroline feel any better. The two-story building was made of gray stone and she considered that it was the only reas
on the albatross continued to stand at all.

  “Lord, the only thing missing is a moat and some moss,” Caroline muttered.

  Mary Margaret walked beside her mistress the distance to the front door without a word of comment. “You needn’t stay with me,” Caroline told her maid. “I would understand if you wanted to return to Bradford Hills.”

  “We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Mary Margaret returned. Caroline turned and saw her dimpled smile. “I don’t know the reasons for your exile, but my loyalty belongs to you as well as to your husband. And I promised him to look after you.”

  “Well, we best see how horrible it is inside,” Caroline said with a sigh.

  The door was locked and it took Huggins, one of the guards, no small effort to get it opened. The door, warped by weather and time, screeched in protest when it was finally jarred loose.

  The foyer was stark and consisted of a stone floor and plastered walls that were both brown from dirt. There were stairs leading to the second floor, but the bannister rail bulged off the side and looked about ready to crash to the ground.

  To the right was the dining room. Caroline walked over to the table centered in the dark room and ran her finger over the dust. She looked at the windows next. Burgundy drapes, limp with age, dragged against the floor.

  Caroline slowly made her way back to the entryway. The main room was on the opposite side of the dining room, and while Caroline considered that the floor plan was actually similar to her father’s townhouse, the likeness ended there.

  The main room was closed off by glass-paned doors that someone must have added after the house was built. She opened them and walked down the three steps.

  “I’m trying to visualize what this will look like when it’s cleaned,” Caroline remarked to her maid, who was hovering behind her.

  The room was quite spacious. There was a large stone fireplace on the wall to the right, two big windows on the opposite wall, and doors leading outside in the center of the far wall.