Lady Hartley's Inheritance

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Lady Hartley's Inheritance Page 18

by Wendy Soliman


  “Yes, Luc, but — ”

  “I think it was when I saw you with Rosie that I first resolved to make you mine. I couldn’t get the image out of my head of you holding our own children thus.”

  “But, Luc, I can’t marry you.”

  “Shush, let me finish. I wanted to tell you before now.” He shrugged. “I thought you might have already guessed. I wanted to come to your bed, to court you and make love to you, to pay homage to your beauty. But then the business with Salik came up, and I knew we had to resolve that first. If I proposed before that you might think I was doing so as an act of kindness, because of your connection to my mother, or some other such nonsense, and I couldn’t risk that. I needed you to be in full possession of your lands and to be able to consider my proposal as an equal. But now, my love, you are in that position, and I want you for my wife. I want you to spend the rest of your life at my side.” He offered her a heart-melting smile. “What do you say?”

  His gaze seemed to reach out and enfold her like a tender caress, heartfelt, all-encompassing and passionate. She didn’t doubt the depth of his feeling since he unquestionably spoke from the heart. His expression was a combination of fear, hope, and expectancy as he awaited her answer. She had never once known him to be unsure of himself and fought to control a shudder as she made to reply, knowing that her words would appear to him as heartless and ungrateful.

  “Luc.” She reached up and gently pushed a lock of hair away from his face. He caught her fingers in a vice-like hold and kissed each one in turn. “I truly had no idea you felt that way.”

  “I know you didn’t. That’s part of the attraction.”

  “But I can’t marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we live in such different worlds. I couldn’t fit into yours any more than you could mine.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “My life is in the north. My passion is my sheep. I have no time for the ton and the ways of society. I find it meaningless, and it would make me miserable. But you were born to it and have a right to expect your wife to share in it with you. She ought to shine as a society hostess, but I could never imagine myself in that position and neither would I wish to be.”

  “No, you’re quite wrong. I’ve been tired of the ton for a long time now. That’s why I exploit it and use the profits I make to do some good. It amuses me to think of all those foppish characters paying out good money in order to support the urchins we take in at the orphanage. Good God, can you imagine how some of them would react if they ever found out?” They shared a complicit smile. “But, I had decided even before you came into my life that I would spend considerably less time in the capital from now on.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Go to Berkshire and concentrate on my horses. We could share our time between the two estates. I’m well aware how important your farming is to you, and you have my word that I wouldn’t interfere with it. You would still enjoy the freedom to continue with your work as you see fit. We need spend very little time in the capital.”

  “Oh, Luc!”

  He stood again and pulled Clarissa to her feet. “Why is the idea so abhorrent to you?”

  “It’s not that, Luc. It’s just that I hadn’t considered marrying again.”

  “Not even to me?” He offered her a beguiling smile, one which made her heart lurch and her resolve wobble.

  “No, believe it or not, the idea hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  “But even though I’ve told you how I feel,” he said in a tight voice, “you’re still not prepared to consider it? I hadn’t realised that I meant so little to you.”

  “But it’s such a surprise.”

  “Clarissa, look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me. If you can do that then we’ll not discuss the matter again.”

  He placed his index finger beneath her chin and tiled her face toward him, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  She couldn’t do it.

  She was incapable of concealing her feelings, incapable of disguising the deep oneness she felt with him, and looked away.

  “I thought so!” His exclamation was triumphant.

  “You must allow me time to consider the matter, Luc. Just because I entertain a certain partiality for you, it doesn’t mean that we’re destined to spend the rest of our lives together.”

  “Yes we are, but I’ll wait for you to reach that conclusion on your own.” He placed her hand on his sleeve and they headed toward the waiting curricle. “I’m a patient man when I need to be.”

  Clarissa sensed Luc’s satisfaction at having extracted her promise to consider his proposal as acutely as she sensed his frustration at being unable to kiss her in such a public place. But as he handed her into the curricle he flashed a predatory grin.

  “And whilst you are considering the matter?” His meaning was unmistakable.

  Clarissa met his gaze boldly and held it. Sighing, she knew she couldn’t resist what he was offering her. Whatever decision she came to with regard to marriage, she would give in to temptation and spend a second night with him.

  “I’ll wear one of my new nightgowns for you tonight,” she said, feeling herself blush.

  Luc’s smile at winning that particular battle was decidedly wicked. It lit up his whole face and made him look so impossibly handsome that Clarissa was forced to avert her gaze lest he recognise the naked, aching sense of longing she felt for him.

  Luc found Clarissa true to her word. When he entered her chamber that evening she was sitting propped up in her bed again, her beautiful hair spilling across her pillows. But this time she was wearing a silk nightgown, an enigmatic smile of welcome, and absolutely nothing else. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her, so different from the hesitant and vulnerable creature she’d been only twenty-four hours earlier.

  “Let me see.”

  Clarissa rose from her bed but slowly this time and walked toward him at an unhurried pace, the soft silk adhering to the warmth of her body and offering Luc a timely reminder of the delights which were in store for him. One short day had made a world of difference to her. She’d shed all outward signs of insecurity and developed the confidence to display her new found sensuality.

  “Remarkable,” he said, running one hand gently down her back and pulling her toward him. “Just perfect.”

  Tonight Luc was determined to take even more time and demonstrate to Clarissa just what pleasures she could expect on a daily basis if she agreed to marry him. He spent an age caressing every inch of her body before he even began to remove the nightgown. By the time he did so, Clarissa was in a fervour of desire, her passions stirred to the point of madness. Luc enjoyed prolonging the moment and gauging her reactions until Clarissa allowed her impatience to bubble over and took matters into her own hands.

  “Two can play at that game,” she warned him.

  “You are a fast learner, my lady.”

  “I had a good teacher, my lord.”

  “I can hardly dispute that fact.”

  But she’d made her point, and gathering her in his arms, Luc carried her to the bed.

  Afterwards she lay in his arms, satiated and smiling.

  “When we’re married I won’t have to think of returning to my own chamber, as I’m doing at this moment.”

  “I haven’t agreed to marry you, Luc.”

  “Not yet,” he conceded, “but you will soon enough.”

  “And what makes you so sure of that?”

  “Because you enjoy what we’ve just done too much,” he said, running a finger slowly across her cheek and sending fire flooding through her veins. “See! And because, having denied yourself such pleasures for so long, I can’t see you giving them up again.”

  “There are other gentlemen in the world,” Clarissa informed him with a defiant tilt of her chin.

  “Indeed there are.” Luc kissed the end of her nose. “But none of them would be able to make you feel as I do,” he added, assu
red of his ability to gratify her. “Besides, I can’t see you taking a lover when you return to Northumberland just to indulge your new found passions. It’s not in your character.”

  “You have it all figured out, I see. But why, pray, should I wish to subject myself to a husband’s tyranny when the alternative is to enjoy the freedom to do as I please?”

  “Tyrannical, am I?”

  He made to turn her over and spank her in punishment. Squealing, Clarissa squirmed out of his arms and his reach, laughing without inhibition.

  “You most certainly are!”

  “You love me, Clarissa,” Luc said with total confidence, pulling her against him, “even if you can’t yet bring yourself to admit as much. But I think it only fair to warn you, I want you for my wife and I’m not accustomed to being disappointed. I always get what I want eventually.”

  “And what about what I want?”

  “Ah yes, about that.”

  And rolling over her, he bent once more to kiss her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Sunday morning Clarissa and the countess attended church, but Luc remained in his library, devising new arguments to convince Clarissa to marry him. She was making noises about returning to Northumberland next week after matters with Twining had been settled, but he was damned if he’d allow her to go without him. He wasn’t prepared to part with her so soon after finding her, and once she acknowledged what she already knew in her heart — that she loved him and was his — then she wouldn’t go anywhere without him ever again. How to convince her though? That was the rub.

  Perhaps her unbridled enthusiasm for activities between the sheets was the answer. If he refrained from visiting her at night it might bring home to her just what pleasures she would be giving up by not marrying him. But pleasure seemed such a hopelessly inadequate word to describe what she brought to their couplings. She was everything he’d given up hope of finding in a woman, giving herself to him without reservation and expecting nothing in return. That’s what was so different about her, Luc realised now. His married paramours required gifts, the widows such as Emily Stokes hankered after marriage. But Clarissa, it seemed, wanted nothing more than gratification. A shamelessly eager pupil, not given to remorse or embarrassment.

  His mother had become less subtle with regard to his continued unmarried state over recent years, and the point she was trying to make was a valid one. He was thirty years old, and it was high time he settled down and sired an heir. Two years his junior, Simon had been married for three years and already had two children. All three of his sisters were married, leaving only his youngest brother, still at Oxford, single.

  Luc took his family’s ribbing on his marriage prospects in good stead. It was their way of expressing their rightful concerns at his dilatory attitude toward matrimony. He was also aware that they took great pleasure in speculating about such matters. He was the head of their family, and they had a right to expect him to ensure the continuation of the line. Suddenly Luc was in a tearing hurry to oblige them.

  He’d been reluctant to follow the example of many of his contemporaries and settle down with a lady when his affections weren’t engaged simply to beget an heir. He required a partner with whom he could share more than just a bed. His wife must be lively, intelligent, willing to share his passion for country living and have no fancy notions about her own self- importance. But now, just when he’d given up all hope of finding her, she had breezed into his life. And of one thing he was determined. She wouldn’t leave it again until she’d agreed to become his wife.

  Luc was roused from his reverie by a knock at his door. It was unusual for him to be interrupted on a Sunday morning. Most of the staff was at church and few would be around at this hour. Knowing it must be a matter of some import to warrant such an intrusion, Luc bade his caller enter. Simms did so, an agitated expression gracing his normally dispassionate features.

  “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but Fielding is here from the orphanage and desirous of an immediate word.”

  Luc frowned. “Show him in, Simms, and remain with us. There must be something seriously amiss for him to call in this manner.”

  Simms opened the door wider, beckoned and Fielding joined them in an instant.

  “Forgive me, my lord, but I thought you’d want to know immediately that Rosie’s disappeared.”

  “What?” Luc half-rose from his chair before resuming it again. “How can that possibly be?”

  “Well, my lord, my wife and the helpers took the children to chapel this morning, as usual. Rosie, and Annie of course, were amongst their number, but when they formed up outside the chapel at the end of the service Rosie simply wasn’t there. We thought at first that she’d wandered away from the group, but a thorough search failed to discover her and now, having questioned the children, it seems she didn’t enter the chapel with the rest of the group in the first place.”

  Luc had an uneasy feeling about this but forced himself to remain calm. “How did that happen?” he asked.

  Fielding spread his hands. “We’re at a loss to explain it, my lord.”

  “Did anything unusual happen on the way to chapel, Fielding? Any strangers taking a special interest in the children?”

  Fielding paled. “Not that anyone can recall, my lord. But then, as you’re aware, the streets are always crowded, even on a Sunday, so it’s hard to be sure.”

  “So, she’s already been gone for more than two hours.”

  “Quite. My wife’s in a dreadful state. She blames herself for not checking that they all entered the chapel safely, but I’ve told her not to think that way. After all, where can the children go, other than back onto the streets from which they were rescued? I think they would, all of them, rather die than endure that fate.”

  Luc attempted to control his rising panic and think logically. “Reassure you wife as best you can,” he said. “No blame attaches to her. Now, what steps have you taken to look for Rosie?”

  “Every available adult from the institution is combing the streets for a sign of her, and asking everyone they meet if they have seen a little girl clutching a rag doll. So far they’ve had no success.”

  “All right, Fielding, I’ll come back with you and see what’s best to be done.”

  “Very good, my lord.” Fielding looked relieved to be absolved of responsibility.

  “What of me, my lord?” Simms asked. “What assistance can I offer?”

  “Remain here, Simms, just in case there’s word. And as soon as the staff return from church send some of the men to ask questions in the vicinity of the orphanage. It’s possible that she’s been taken by force and someone may have noticed something.”

  “That thought had occurred to me, my lord. But why?”

  “That’s a very good question.” Luc grimaced. “Perhaps one of the customers from the inn at which Rosie was previously held?”

  “God forbid,” Fielding said.

  “The men have my permission to offer generous gratuities in return for reliable information, Simms.”

  “I will so inform them, my lord.”

  “Oh, and, Simms?” Luc said, turning back from the doorway, “Send someone around to Park Street with my compliments to Lord Western, and ask him if he would join me at the orphanage.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Luc hurried from the room, his first concern being, of course, for Rosie’s welfare. His second was for Clarissa when she heard that the little girl she’d come to love so much was wandering, alone and unprotected, in some of the roughest streets of the capital.

  Clarissa and Aunt Marcia returned from church. The countess was, as always, chattering ten to the dozen, but Clarissa barely heard her. Her head was still hopelessly full of memories of her second night with Luc. It had been even more fulfilling than the first. She felt a warm glow and a sweet, rushing spasm of desire whenever she thought about it. Clarissa shook her head. It really wouldn’t do! Such thoughts would achieve nothing. But the harder she tried t
o banish them, the more tenacious they became.

  When she considered his marriage proposal, she sobered immediately. It had come as a complete surprise, and she had no idea what to do about it. Luc commanded such presence. The moment he entered a room he dominated it, and everyone in it deferred to his authority. Could such a man really want her as a wife? And even if he did, could she expect to keep him happy for very long? Somehow she doubted that. Her tastes were too simple. Her life lacked the sophistication of his, and despite what he said, she felt sure he would soon tire of rusticating in the country. He would require good society, would inevitably feel the need to surround himself with fashionable people and hanker for amusing diversions. She would not, and inevitably they would drift apart.

  She doubted that Luc had ever proposed to a lady before because, from what she’d observed, no one else would be likely to refuse him. Did she intend to refuse him? Could she resist him now that he appeared so determined to have her — and, in all honesty, did she actually want to? He’d sounded sincere when he promised not to interfere with her operation in Northumberland, but could she take him at his word? He had, after all, promised to work with her to unmask Twining and Salik but had then blithely gone his own way without reference to her. A little voice inside her head told her he’d been trying to protect her and save her from her own impetuous nature. When she recalled her disastrous trip to that tavern, she conceded that he had a point. But, still, where did that leave her? Could she ever believe his assurances again?

  And what of other ladies? Clarissa had seen for herself just how prepared they were to throw themselves at him, especially the married ones, and it was common practise for married men of his class to routinely take a mistress. The very idea was abhorrent to her, and she knew she would never be able to sit quietly by, as so many fashionable wives apparently did, and turn a blind eye to the situation. But if they were separated for long periods whilst he was in London and she in the north, surely it would become inevitable?

 

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