Fascination -and- Charmed

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Fascination -and- Charmed Page 64

by Stella Cameron


  “Will you show it to me?”

  “Perhaps.” Somehow she must keep her head.

  “When?”

  “I only said perhaps. Even being together like this is a dangerous thing.”

  “I am not afraid of Franchot.”

  “I am. I’m afraid for you. He is a dangerous man.”

  He found her face and felt its contours like a blind man. “Do not be afraid of him, Pippa. Trust and let me lead the way for both of us.”

  Suddenly she could no longer contain the questions. Turning, sitting half on the saddle, half in his lap, she caught his coat with both hands and looked into his face.

  Before she could speak, Calum bent to touch his parted lips to hers. She saw his eyes shut tightly and her own lids drifted down. The touch of his mouth was tough silk, commanding surrender.

  Her grip moved to his shirt, where the heat of his body beat into her hands and coursed through her veins.

  “No!” Pushing herself as far away from him as her position allowed, she held back her hair with one hand and turned aside her face when he would have kissed her again. “Stop.”

  “Why? We both want to be together.”

  “Why do you want to be with me?”

  His hands traveled up and down her spine. When the horse shifted restlessly, Calum calmed him without taking his touch from her neck beneath her tumbled hair.

  “Calum,” she said, and forced herself to stare into his serious eyes. “What do you want with me?”

  “Time,” he said simply.

  Again she avoided his kiss. “Time for what?”

  “There are things I cannot tell you.”

  “Yet you pursue me.”

  He laughed softly and forced her face up to his. After he had kissed her soundly, he said, “I believe it was you who pursued me this time, my love. And you found me. I’m glad and you’re glad. Need we waste precious time on questions I will not answer today?”

  “When will you answer them?” she asked, and gasped when he caressed her breast. “Don’t. Please, don’t.”

  “You have told me how difficult you find it not to touch me intimately. I have the same dilemma.” His fingertips slipped inside her bodice to find a nipple. “Ah, my dearest. I must complete what I have to do here, and then…Are you not desperate for some of those intimate touches of yours?”

  She covered his hand on her breast and bit her lip against the sweet, exquisite surge that swelled from the place his fingers had found and pooled, hot, low, in her belly.

  Her gown was light and soft and offered a flimsy barrier between them.

  That part of Calum was heavy and hard.

  Pippa flattened a palm on his lean middle, pressed downward over breeches that hid nothing of the man’s swollen proportions.

  She cupped him and leaned up to kiss his neck.

  “Aah.” He raised his sharp jaw and she saw his teeth clench. “Not here,” he said suddenly, catching her wrist and pulling her hand to rest on his chest. “Not now, but very, very soon. Otherwise, I shall die of wanting you.”

  Pippa’s skin was a raw thing, and the flesh beneath trembled. When she could speak, she said, “I ask you again, Calum Innes from Scotland, who stays in a castle where the lord does not want him, and cares for children who are not his own, and angers an old lady who has no reason to be angered by him, and pursues a woman who is promised to another…what do you want with me?”

  “And I tell you again,” he said, firmly turning her to face forward once more, “that I want time from you. Can you give me that? Will you give me that?”

  The hack trotted onward and Pippa did not answer Calum.

  From the trees they passed onto the sloping meadow where shy yellow pimpernels arched their coy flowers from shiny vines among wild grasses. Blue forget-me-nots and magenta Hottentot fig flowers flipped to and fro. All around was peace. Inside Pippa, confusion and dread raged. She dreaded the thought of a life lived where she would see this man everywhere, feel him everywhere, yet where he would no longer be.

  Once past the wall, Calum guided the horse toward a narrow track that led to an overlook above the village of Franchot. He rested his chin on her shoulder and blew softly against her cheek.

  “You are not here because of me, are you?” She’d known she must eventually ask him this. “It was not by chance that we met in London?”

  His lips found sensitive skin on the side of her neck. “Let it be for now,” he said into her ear. “Let it be, Pippa.”

  “There is something you intend to do here. And it is dangerous.”

  “I will never do anything to hurt you.”

  They crested the hill and a valley opened before them, a valley with the village at its center. “Oh, look.” She sat up. “See?” Wagons piled high with colorful burdens ranged around the common ground outside the village. Figures made small by distance scurried in every direction.

  Behind Pippa, Calum straightened and grew still.

  “I had forgotten all about the fair,” she told him. “But, of course, it is time. Justine says it is great fun. I wonder if we shall be able to go tonight.”

  Calum made a sound deep in his throat. “I shall go,” he said in a tone she had not heard him use before. “Oh, yes. I shall go to the fair tonight.”

  Pippa looked down at his hands once more. His knuckles shone white. “Is something wrong?” she asked him.

  “Something was always wrong,” Calum said. “To hope for a miracle is to risk despair. I have lived to take this risk.”

  Charmed Twenty-One

  A purple glow folded into a moonless night sky over the fairgrounds.

  Laughter and music, shrieking and the bellow of animals, reduced everything about them to turmoil.

  “I’m t’see everythin’,” Max shouted to Calum over the din. “And t’do everythin’.”

  “Are you indeed?” Calum kept an eye on the rest of his party and searched in every direction for Milo and Miranda’s wagon.

  “Lady Justine give me this,” the boy announced, holding out a palm filled with coins. “Ellie’s a silly one.”

  Calum looked sharply at Max. “Why is Ella silly?” He curled the child’s thin fingers over the money. “And keep this out of sight or you’ll soon be parted from it.”

  Max laughed and capered about. “They’d ’ave t’be quick t’pick from a—” He halted abruptly and hunched his shoulders. “I’ll watch my pockets.”

  “Yes,” Calum said thoughtfully. “What’s this about Ella?”

  “She slipped away and went back. Said she didn’t like it here.”

  Calum hadn’t noticed the girl’s absence. “She’s wiser than some of us,” he said. “Tired, no doubt. Make certain you don’t go far from me.”

  “I’m off t’see the bear.” With that, Max dashed away, stopping every few steps to twirl back and wave.

  The purple glaze upon the skies came from open fires that sent sparks spiraling upward. About those fires rollicked clownish fellows intent on cadging prizes for their foolishness. A band brandishing tambourines made noise by which to dance. Skirts and voluminous trousers of brightly striped gauze whirled together, and a crowd gathered to clap in time.

  Nowhere was there any sign of the painted message promising cures from all ills. His belly clenched. He hadn’t really expected to find Miranda here, but he’d hoped.

  “For all the world, Calum, one would think you were at your very first fair.”

  He had no need to look at the face of the woman who pressed close to his side to know who she was. “I am a man interested in everything he sees,” he told Lady Hoarville. “What of you, my lady? Do you find things to interest you here?”

  “Oh, yes. Some very interesting things.”

  Under the cover of the jostling throng, she contrived to stand where her skirts hid her actions and slipped a hand between his thighs.

  Calum, his arms crossed, remained still and pretended to be engrossed in a pair of white dogs with red ruffs around their
necks. They minced on their hind legs and leaped, still upright, over sticks their owner placed repeatedly before them.

  “A great thing of interest,” Lady Anabel said, and there was an annoyed edge to her voice now. “I think you need some assistance.”

  “Not from you, my lady.”

  She closed her hand hard on his shaft. “Are you certain?”

  “Quite certain.”

  Her hand dropped away. “We shall have to find an opportunity to test your resolve, sir. Listen to me, please. There is something you must do.”

  Calum was tired of this creature and he had a great deal to do. The sooner he was rid of her—and of the rest of the company from the castle—the better.

  “Do you hear me?” she demanded.

  “I hear you.”

  “I believe you told me the truth when you said you were not retained by Philipa to make Etienne jealous.”

  “Wise of you,” he said, searching around for Franchot and his odious friend, St. Luc. They appeared inseparable, except when St. Luc could be seen dogging the steps of Saber Avenall. St. Luc clearly assumed Calum would keep a “gentleman’s” silence regarding their encounter at the brothel in Whitechapel.

  Calum wondered about the closeness between Franchot and St. Luc and thought about Franchot’s intention to marry Pippa. The idea sickened his very soul.

  “She’s over there,” Lady Hoarville said with angry intensity. “With Saber. At the farthing toss.”

  Calum turned and saw Pippa. She and Saber were laughing together while he tossed farthings at painted numbers in squares upon a board.

  “Have you had her yet?”

  Calum frowned and gave Lady Hoarville his attention. “I beg your pardon, my lady?”

  “Pippa. Have you bedded her yet?” She shrugged eloquently in her unsuitably extravagant, swansdown-trimmed blue cloak. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I am a generous woman and I know when I’m looking at a man and a woman in love.”

  Anabel was a viper. A grasping, unscrupulous harridan who hadn’t the wit to as much as attempt to cover her meddling. “I’ll take my leave of you,” he told her.

  “No, you won’t.” Her fingers curled into his arm. “I’m going to help you.”

  “Help me?”

  “I knew that would make you pay attention.”

  Calum collected himself. “Please excuse me.”

  “If you marry Lady Philipa, you’ll get her dowry,” Lady Hoarville said, appearing for all the world to be fascinated by the little white dogs. “Is that interesting to you?”

  She must be acting for Franchot, asking questions to find out how Calum would react. “Lady Philipa is betrothed to the Duke of Franchot and will marry him in a few weeks. That, my lady, makes your suggestion a joke.”

  “I never joke about things that are of the utmost importance,” she said.

  “Of the utmost importance to you,” he responded.

  “With my help, you will leave Franchot and take Lady Philipa with you.”

  “Leaving you to take her place as the Duchess of Franchot?”

  “All that should concern you are your own affairs.”

  “And they do concern me. Enjoy the fair.”

  Her sharp fingertips stayed him long enough for her to tell him, “Think about what I have said. You will change your mind and be glad of my help. Think of it, Calum. Take her away and you will have Cloudsmoor and all that goes with it.”

  “Good night, madam.”

  “You and I could enjoy each other, Calum.”

  He looked at her.

  “You saw some of what I have to offer at the Esterhazys’,” she said, smiling with confident satisfaction. “And you wanted me. Then it was not convenient. Now it can be.”

  “Why should that be?”

  “Because I believe in paying for what I want. Many men would pay a great deal for what I will do for you—”

  “Thank you, but no.”

  Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “I am offering to buy what you should pay me for. With my favors, I will buy your departure from here with Pippa. I will pleasure you to persuade you to grab a fortune, you fool.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “But no.”

  “Damn you. Money, then. I will pay you to take her away.”

  He had neither the time nor the stomach for this. Forcing a smile, he offered her a bow. “You are generous, madam. And I will consider your offer.”

  She swayed with agitation. “You will consider money rather than…Very well. But do not consider too long. Soon it will be too late.”

  “I will inform you of my decision soon enough,” he said. “I believe I see the duke over there. We’ll speak again.”

  Sidestepping a chain of village youths singing and winding through the throng, Calum joined Saber and Pippa. “Has he won you a pretty trinket yet?” Calum asked, smiling into Pippa’s flushed face.

  “There is some trick to it,” Saber protested to the grinning and toothless woman who gathered up fallen coins into pockets in her grimy apron.

  He leaned as far forward as the barrier would allow and tried a delicate flick of the wrist. The small coin reached the end of the game board and plopped into sawdust scattered beneath.

  “Hopeless!” Calum announced. “Let me show you how.”

  “You are unkind, sir,” Pippa told him. “Do not tease us, please.”

  Saber did not look like a man who took teasing seriously. He peered past Calum. “Where’s Ella? They said she would come with you.”

  Calum caught Pippa’s eye and quickly looked away. “She went back.”

  The smile left Saber’s face. “Surely you’re mistaken. Max said they were all agog about—” He replaced his smile and made a passable attempt to appear unconcerned. “I think I’ll leave you two to the clutches of this impossible feat. Young Max will be up to no good if he’s left alone. I’ll make sure he’s in no trouble.”

  “Ella is only fifteen,” Pippa said when the young man had disappeared into the crowd.

  “Saber knows that.” Calum found he wanted to plead that, despite his youth, his cousin was honorable. This longing to acknowledge and be acknowledged by his rightful family was becoming a thing that almost choked him.

  “I’ve seen the way she gazes at him,” Pippa said, frowning.

  “And you know how a woman looks when she’s in love?”

  Pippa met his eyes directly. “Yes, I know how she looks. And I know how she feels. There can be no future for those two. You know as much. They are from different, irreconcilable worlds. I dislike that such unimportant things are made insurmountable, but they are.”

  “Saber knows what he’s about.”

  Pippa took a farthing from Calum’s hand and turned it over in her palm. “Saber is good. But he is a man. Ella is not…How can I say it? In some ways she seems older than her years and she certainly looks older. In the viscount’s absence, you must ensure her safety.”

  “I think you are coming to believe our little deception,” he told her quietly.

  “It is all we have,” she said tartly. “Ella and Max are special children and I am glad of them. I am glad that, for whatever reason, they were rescued from circumstances I’m certain were unsuitable. I shall champion them, if you will not.”

  He shook his head. “I shall champion them, Pippa. You know I shall.” Her fiercely protective nature ensnared his heart.

  Pippa fingered the farthing, then turned to toss it at the board.

  “No luck, yer ladyship,” said the rosy-cheeked woman who quickly pocketed the coin. “Try again.”

  “I suppose I shall simply have to forget that pretty little prize I wanted,” Pippa said, sighing hugely.

  “What little prize?” Calum asked.

  “Why, the fan of purple feathers, of course.”

  Squinting, Calum scanned the prizes arrayed behind the board and located the frightful piece Pippa described. When he opened his mouth to say what he thought of it, she contrived to dig
him hard in the ribs and shake her head.

  “Her ladyship’s got fine taste,” the attendant said. “Prize of prizes, that is. Calls for four farthings on the twenty, it do. Try yer luck, yer lordship.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself, Calum,” Pippa said. “I shall simply have to—”

  “Stand back,” Calum said, pushing his coat sleeves above his shirt cuffs and flourishing his elbows.

  Pippa’s laugh delighted him. “You are impossible,” she said.

  “You won’t say that when you hold the pretty purple fan in your delicate hands.”

  She leaned against the booth and covered her face.

  “Watch this, my lady,” Calum said. He held the coin as he would a rock for skimming on the lake at Kirkcaldy. With a flick of the wrist he sent it gently skimming up the sloping board to land just barely—inside the necessary square. “One farthing,” he announced.

  “Ooh,” the toothless one said admiringly. “A fine ’and you’ve got, yer lordship.”

  “You’ve seen little yet.” A second farthing found its mark.

  Pippa clapped. “You are a marvel. I had no idea your talents were so advanced.”

  He spared her a grin and said, “I assure you, lady, my talents are very advanced.”

  The third farthing landed in the top left-hand corner of the square.

  “I don’t believe it,” Pippa said. “And you use both hands.”

  “I forget sometimes,” he said, pursing his lips. “I frequently forget the lessons of my schoolroom days.”

  “They tried to stop you from using the left hand?”

  “Naturally. Not quite the thing. Now, to finish this.”

  “You cannot do it,” she warned him. “You are inflated with your success like a drunken pigeon. Give it up, and we’ll take the green clockwork mouse for three on the twenty.”

  Calum took his coat off entirely and handed it to Pippa. He tugged at the hem of his waistcoat and assumed a pugilist’s stance. Amid bursts of the laughter he loved more than any in life, he shied a fourth farthing.

  “Oh,” Pippa said, standing still, her hands pressed together. “Oh, oh, oh!”

  The coin hit the board too low and slid slowly, slowly upward.

  “Oh!” Pippa cried. She jumped up and down, clapping wildly. “You did it, Calum. Oh, you did it.”

 

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