Lord Margrave's Secret Desire

by Samantha Grace

  “Am I keeping you awake?” he murmured.

  Sophia shook her head. He scooted to make room for her on the pallet he had laid in the corridor. She sat beside him, struck by how uncomfortable his night would be at his post.

  “Are you certain posting watch outside our door is necessary?” she asked.

  “No one followed us from London, but I prefer to stay close.”

  His body heat warmed her side, and she longed to feel his arm around her shoulders and to be held close to his heart. “You must be exhausted after all that time in the saddle.”

  He smiled as if he found her concern amusing. “I am accustomed to riding, but I am a little fatigued.”

  “If the danger has passed, you should go to bed.” She glanced at the door. She should return to her own bed before she did something foolish, like throw herself on him and break into an ugly sobbing jag. It had been that sort of day.

  “I will sleep in the coach tomorrow.” He reached for her hand and turned it palm up to trace the fine lines with his fingertip. A pleasing tingle spread up her arm. “If worry is keeping you awake, rest assured I will keep watch over you all night.”

  In the past, Sophia would have argued she was capable of protecting herself by applying common sense and avoiding dangerous situations. The incident at Lord and Lady Seabrook’s estate had shattered the false sense of security she had created to keep her fears at bay. Without warning, the world had become a frightening, unpredictable place. Sophia had no control over anything, including her own body. A tremor traveled through her.

  Crispin looked up from her hand; his strong brows lifted toward his hairline. “Are you chilled?”

  Before she could answer, he wrapped his arm around her and drew her against his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she inhaled his familiar scent. Tears wet her eyes as relief enveloped her. He was a cup of chocolate on a dreary day, a thick quilt on a cold night, her safe harbor when she felt adrift.

  “I thought I could be your helpmate,” she mumbled. “I feel stupid. I did not want to believe I was a hindrance to whatever you are doing, but—”

  He shushed her. “Stop.”

  His gentle rebuke was softened when he captured her chin. Lifting her face, he pressed his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes to stem fresh tears. Crying would make her a bigger burden, and she didn’t require his strength to withstand this hardship. She had her own supply of fortitude, if only she could find where it was hiding.

  “I was frustrated,” he said. “I regret uttering the word.”

  “It is true, Crispin. I am no match for these men, and now you are risking your life for me. I never should have meddled. I should have stayed away from the theatre like you wanted, and I never should have entered Lord Van Middleburg’s study. What if something happens to Aunt Beatrice? How would I ever forgive myself?”

  “No harm will come to you or Beatrice. I will not allow it.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “You are not responsible for what has occurred. I am sorry you have been ensnared in this mess. You have done nothing wrong.”

  She swallowed around the huge lump in her throat.

  “This must be confusing, love.” His mouth was close to her ear, and the caress of his warm breath against her neck elicited a tantalizing shiver to race through her. “I promised you an explanation, but first I must have your word you will never repeat what I am about to reveal—not to anyone. Not your sisters, Lady Octavia...”

  She nodded. “Or Auntie, I understand. I vow to never repeat a word.”

  “I would invite you to my room, but I do not want to leave your aunt unguarded. It is a lengthy story.”

  She stretched to place a kiss on his cheek then snuggled into a comfortable position. His concern for her aunt sealed her fate. She was hopelessly in love with him. “I have no place to be.” Or anywhere she would rather be, even if it meant sitting on an uncomfortable plank floor.

  “You asked how I know Farrin and his men. It is best to start at the beginning, I think.”

  She loved the low deep rumble of his voice. It reminded her of thunder in the distance with her snug and safe in her bed.

  “After I buried my father, the time came to assume the responsibilities attached to the title. I was seventeen, but my father began preparing me for the viscountcy at a young age. He also made efforts to foster the relationship between your uncle and me. Father trusted Charles to guide me when he was no longer around to do so.”

  “Your father must have loved you a great deal to prepare you as he did,” she said. “How sad he must have been to realize he was unlikely to know you as a man.”

  “I have never given it much thought, but I suppose it must have been difficult for him. He spoke candidly about his illness. I cannot recall a time when I did not know his heart was defective. He did not dwell on it, though. My father was in good spirits most of the time. He had this booming laugh that echoed throughout the house. I can still hear it sometimes.” He chuckled softly, and she felt tension melting from his muscles.

  “After my father was away from home, his laughter would herald his return. Some of the servants had known him since he was a boy, and they felt comfortable joking with him. All of them seemed to enjoy his jovial nature. I would run to greet him, and he would make a fuss over how much I had grown, even if he had only been gone a few days.”

  Sophia smiled. “He sounds lovely. I wish I remembered him.”

  “He was fond of you and your sisters, although he had no notion of how to talk to any of you. You did not seem bothered by his silly questions, though. When he asked how many fish you had caught for your supper that evening, you giggled and set him straight about ladies’ activities.”

  “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall that conversation.” She laughed. “Didn’t he make a show of demanding the servants take away my plate?”

  “Yes, he had a grand time teasing you. Father admired your spirit. He said someday you would hold some poor gent’s toes to the fire, and he would become a better man for it. I think my father would be pleased to know I am that man.”

  Sophia’s mood sobered. “You must be less pleased with recent developments, considering you never intended to marry.”

  “I am relieved.”

  She drew back to ascertain if he was teasing. “Relieved?”

  “I never would have exposed you to this part of life, but I am grateful to have a door opened that I believed was barred to me.” He held her gaze; his hazel eyes darkened. “I have never desired anyone more, Sophia. The longing to be with you hasn’t lessened since we parted at Christmas. You have no idea how it ripped me apart to see you with other men.”

  “I do know the feeling.” Her nose tingled with warning that tears might be coming despite her iron will. “I devoured the newssheets for any mention of you, and the prospect of finding your name linked with another lady’s left me queasy.”

  “There has been no one since you, darling.” He pushed the hood from her head and slid his hand to the back of her neck, beneath her hair. Warmth spread down her back. “I want you. No one else can ease the ache in my heart.”

  When he touched his lips to hers, the urge to cry was overwhelmed by elation. She leaned into his kiss. Her heart overflowed with tenderness, and a tiny sob escaped her. He drew back; his brows veered toward each other.

  “Have I frightened you?”

  “Never.” She gently hooked her hand behind his head to draw him back. “Please, kiss me. I have an ache in my heart, too.”

  Her admission elicited a fire in his eyes. He captured her mouth with a husky growl. Sophia parted her lips, welcoming him. His tongue teased hers, encouraging her boldness. She tentatively caressed his bottom lip. With a hum of approval, he angled her head and deepened the kiss. She wiggled to get closer, and he pulled her onto his lap to straddle his firm thighs. Sophia arched into him. He buried his fingers into her hair as she matched him kiss for kiss. Her breasts became fuller and heavy. />
  Being in his arms felt like coming home. Everything was right and as it should be in those moments of becoming lost in one another. There was no danger or secrets—no denial, no distance. She was part of him, and he was part of her. We are equals.

  The thought dragged her out of the haze. It was a lie. She was far from his equal. That had become clear earlier in the day. Even though he had tried to ease the blow by denying she was useless to him, she knew it to be true. She broke the kiss.

  He smoothed his hands over her back in slow sweeps, placed a peck on the tip of her nose, and smiled. “You are too distracting by half, minx. If you keep batting those blue eyes at me, I will never finish my story.”

  Attempting to hide her sudden bout of melancholy, she returned his smile and exaggeratedly fluttered her lashes. “My apologies, my lord.”

  “You are not sorry in the least.” He kissed her lips once more before settling her beside him on the pallet. She melted against him, secure in his affection for her, if not her place in his world.

  “Are you sure you are not too tired?” he asked. “You’ve had much to take in today.”

  “Curiosity will keep me awake all night. Please, finish your story.”

  He cleared his throat. “After my father’s death, his man of business reviewed the accounts with me and provided detailed summaries on the work in progress on my father’s land. One day he handed me the key to my father’s safe. It was located in his chambers, which I had been avoiding. It seemed like an invasion, but I knew he expected me to take the reins and remain strong. The safe could have held something important that needed my attention. Your uncle accompanied me into the master’s chambers for moral support, even though I assured him I needed no help.”

  “Hmm... Why does that sound familiar?”

  Crispin chuckled. “He did not accept my refusal for help either.”

  “I am sure he meant well.” I did.

  “I was glad for Charles’s presence when I discovered my mother was alive and well.”

  “I can only imagine. The news must have come as a shock.”

  “I’d had no hint my father kept secrets, but he hired an investigator soon after she ran away. The man tracked her and my brother to her family home in Scotland. It appears my parents exchanged letters after the investigator located her. Father had held on to hers.”

  “Do you think he still loved her?”

  “I cannot say. I only read her letters, so I do not know what he thought or felt. She did not love him, though. She accused him of abandonment and unforgivable cruelty, and reminded him that she had fulfilled her obligations to him. She had provided him with an heir and a spare, even if he had no love for my brother.”

  Sophia swallowed a sad sigh. Her mother’s diary had been full of praise and admiration for Sophia’s father. Her parents had been inseparable. The animosity Crispin described was foreign to her.

  “My mother’s letters viciously attacked him,” he said, “and she threatened to make him as miserable as she had been as his wife if he forced her back to England. Her words showed her to be an unkind and petty woman, but your uncle urged me not to judge her harshly. He said one never knows what occurs in a marriage unless he is one of the parties sharing a bed.”

  “Uncle Charles probably stole that advice from Plato or some other ancient and wise man.”

  “A wise woman,” Crispin said.

  “Oh?”

  “Your Great-aunt Beatrice gave Wedmore the same advice when he learned my mother left my father. Your uncle was incensed on Father’s account.”

  “They were close friends, weren’t they?”

  “Since they were boys. I did not heed your uncle’s advice for long. He suggested I avoid contact with my mother until after I grieved for my father. Wedmore said grief could obscure my view, but not only had I learned of my mother’s actual fate, I had a brother I did not know. I needed to hold her accountable.”

  “I cannot imagine my life without Regina and Evangeline.”

  “Neither can I,” he said. “I was fortunate to have the lot of you when I visited your uncle, but I grew accustomed to being an only child at home. Still, I required answers. I couldn’t fathom the reason our mother left me behind and took my brother, or why my father had not brought Alexander home after the investigator found them.”

  He grew quiet for too long. Sophia sat up. His face was blank, even his eyes seemed void of emotion. She hated being unable to ascertain his true thoughts or feelings, which she had to admit was more often the case than not.

  “What happened when you went to your mother?” she prompted.

  His mouth set in a grim line. “She was no longer in Scotland. Her parents, my grandparents, told me she had remarried and moved to a home near Finchingfield. She was a widow for less than a month.”

  “Oh.” A proper response evaded her.

  “My grandparents were welcoming and insisted I stay with them while I was in Scotland. I told them I had taken lodgings at an inn. I started for home the next morning. After I returned, I confessed to your uncle what I had done. I told him I wanted to see my mother in Essex. He advised against it but assumed I would ignore his counsel again, so he agreed to accompany me this time.”

  “And did you find her?”

  “I did. She was alone when your uncle and I arrived. Alexander had remained at his school in Scotland, and her husband was away collecting rent. She asked me to leave.”

  Sophia gasped.

  “My mother did not want her husband coming home early to find me. She was content with her life and saw no benefit to becoming acquainted after so many years had passed. She said I would be a man soon and lose interest in knowing her. It would be wasted effort on her part.”

  Sophia was too stunned to speak. His mother had abandoned him as a child and rejected him as a young man. Was it any wonder seeking help from her was abhorrent to him?

  Crispin continued his story. “I reassured her I had no interest in her. I only wanted to meet my brother. I swore I would never arrive on her doorstep again.”

  “Now, you must go back on your word, because of me.” Sophia sighed. “I am so very sorry. Is there anywhere else we can go? Would your grandparents provide us refuge?”

  “If they were alive, they would take us in without reservation. I returned to visit my grandparents a year later, and we exchanged letters until Grandfather became too ill to write. Against my mother’s wishes, he told Alexander about me.”

  A rush of hot irritation washed over her skin. “Alexander did not know he had a brother?” Law! Crispin’s mother deserved a proper scolding for her behavior and a good shake. Sophia squared her jaw; her stubborn streak reared its head. “We do not require your mother’s assistance. We will manage on our own. Perhaps we should join Regina, Evangeline, and Uncle Charles in Athens.”

  “I cannot leave England, and I will not allow you to go without me.” He raised an eyebrow, playfully goading her. “And do not offer the argument that I have no authority to boss you about.”

  She sniffed, pretending to be indignant even though she had no plans to be separated from him either. “You still have not proposed to me, Lord Presumptuous.”

  He grinned. “An oversight I will correct someday.”

  “What is wrong with now?”

  “I want to make the moment special, darling.”

  He kissed her, stealing her breath when he gently caught her bottom lip between his teeth, holding it captive briefly before releasing it to tease her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She surrendered to the kiss with enthusiasm. Every moment felt special with Crispin, and she didn’t require a formal proposal. She simply enjoyed bantering with him.

  He ended their kiss before she was ready. She hid her disappointment by nuzzling his neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

  “As much as I detest the idea,” he murmured, “my mother’s home poses the least amount of risk for being found.”

  “Well, I will prepare myself to have the
door slammed in our faces.”

  “We will not be turned away. My mother’s husband has become bedridden, and Alexander is man of the house now. He will provide sanctuary.”

  “What if your mother objects?”

  “I do not anticipate she will. She began writing a couple of years ago to request another meeting.”

  “Have you been corresponding with her, then?”

  “No,” he said. “I have accepted the nature of our association and think about her as little as possible. It is for the best.”

  “Of course.” Now was not a time for platitudes or observations on how she would travel halfway around the world for one more conversation with her own mother. Her experience was not his.

  Her love for her mother had been permitted to flourish; it lasted beyond death, like all true loves. Abandonment and rejection prevented Crispin’s bond with his mother from ever taking seed. How could any woman not recognize how lovable he was?

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him, wishing she could absorb the hurt he must have suffered. “Where does Farrin fit into your past?”

  “He is an opportunist. After I saw my mother and returned to London, I became bitter and was spoiling for a fight. Your uncle tried to talk sense into me, but I accused him of aligning himself with her and began avoiding him. Farrin found me at my worst.”

  “What do you mean? What did he want with you?”

  “He recruited me to work for him.”

  Sophia cried out in shock. “Like that man who tried to kill us?”

  “No, he wanted me for a different job.” He hesitated. His muscles bunched beneath her hand resting on his chest.

  “I gave my word, Crispin. Your secret is safe with me. I promise to never repeat what you share with me.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “He recruited me to be a spy.”

  She bolted upright to look him in the eyes. “For whom?”

  “For England, silly.” He chuckled and the hard-knotted muscles under her palm began to loosen. “Who did you think?”