The moment seemed to freeze between them and he stared down at her but made no move in either direction. His eyes never left hers though and she felt her heart thud in her chest. Please, Lawrence, please, she begged inwardly but he didn't move. Well if he wouldn't, she must. Taking courage in her hands she reached up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. For the barest second he didn't react and she thought perhaps she had miscalculated, perhaps she had been totally wrong. Perhaps ... and then his arms went around her and he swept her into a fierce embrace.
Chapter 28
“Wherein hearts are touched as surely as flesh.”
His kiss seared her, burned her from the inside out and she wanted nothing more than to step into the inferno. This time she knew what to expect, was ready for him when his tongue demanded entry and she willingly submitted. She reached her arms up around his neck and arched into him, feeling his hands on her, one sliding down her back to cup her bottom and pull her closer, the other stroking the column of her neck. His touch was at once tender and furious, and he held her as though she was precious, as though he wanted to caress and worship every part of her with care. Yet his kiss was fierce and hungry and threatened to take them quickly into dangerous waters.
She reminded herself that this was where she needed to go, when her courage might have failed her. If she wanted to keep him here, to keep him safe where he belonged, then she had to forget everything she'd been taught, she had to forget she'd been raised a lady and make him want to stay - here with her - with every means she had at her disposal. With that in mind her hand fell, sliding down over his chest to caress the hard length of him that was only too easy to find in the fitted breeches.
His breath caught and held as her hand pressed against him and she felt suddenly powerful as he pulled back a little and she saw the look in his eyes. There was such need there, such heat; there was the inferno she had desired. She moved her hand, stroking him through the buckskin and he closed his eyes and groaned. Her breath caught, her eyes on his face as her hand caressed him, watching the expressions of pleasure as they crossed his face, wanting him to need her so much he couldn't refuse her.
“Oh, God, Henri, you're killing me.” The words were harsh and ragged and she smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss against his neck.
No, she thought to herself, I'm saving you.
“No ... no, I--I can't,” he groaned, and she found herself suddenly chilled as he released her, taking the heat of him away as he went.
She shivered, clutching her arms around herself and feeling foolish. She'd picked the one room in which there was no fire to aid her seduction, how ironic. Not that she thought a warmer temperature would have helped her with this pigheaded man.
He'd picked up the lamp. “Come,” he said, his voice dull. “I expect they're waiting to serve the luncheon.”
This wasn’t over, she thought, glaring at him as he gestured for her to return down the stairs, not by a long chalk.
He avoided showing her the rest of the bedrooms on the way back and she took a little comfort from the fact that it might be he didn't trust her, or himself, in the vicinity of a bed. He declined to eat with her and so she was left alone, picking at a simple repast of bread, cheese and cold meat with little enthusiasm.
It was growing dark by the time Alex returned to the house. She had curled up in a chair by the library fire, after taking some time to select a book from the vast array that stacked the shelves. Unsurprisingly many had been in French, and although her French was adequate for speaking, she had no desire to struggle through pages of text, so she'd been relieved to find a comprehensive selection of titles in English.
She looked up, getting to her feet and bobbing a curtsey as Alex entered the room.
“My Lord.”
Alex sighed with irritation. “Oh do, for the love of God, let the formalities go. Really I have no patience with them.”
“As you wish,” she replied, irked by his sharp tone and taking her seat again. “I trust you had a good day?”
He watched her as he unlocked a beautiful wooden Tantalus and retrieved one of the crystal decanters within, pouring a generous measure.
He declined to answer but gave her a shrewd look. “By your demeanour and the fact you are here alone, am I to take it you've not had a successful day?”
Henri blushed, grateful that the light in the library was muted as she hadn't yet lit all the lamps. “No, sir,” she replied, with as much froideur as she could manage. The nerve of the man, how dare he ask such questions!
He snorted and poured another glass, and walked over to give it to her before occupying the other available seat by the fire. “Come, Henri, no need to be coy. We both know what hangs on your success.” He grimaced at his unintended pun. “How did it go?” he asked. “And for God's sake don't be shy, I would help you if I could.”
Henri looked at him, utterly mortified. What on earth did the man expect her to say?
He snorted and sat back in his chair. “Very well, I will ask questions and you simply nod or shake your head.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes, taking a large sip of the drink he'd provided.
“Did you kiss him at least?”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze.
“And he responded?”
Her smile betrayed her and he laughed. “Well thank God for that, I was beginning to think we were not actually related.” Henri tutted at him and he gave a heavy sigh. “I take it that his honour got the better of him and he forced himself to walk away?”
“Something like that,” she muttered, staring down into the crystal glass. Perhaps it was her, perhaps she just wasn't enough to tempt him?
She dared to look up and found Alex considering her. “Don't look so down-hearted. I think you've had a successful enough first day. But you cannot afford to let any opportunity slide. You must seek him out, touch him whenever you can, even if it is just a brush of you fingers over his, your hand on his shoulder. Find his eyes whenever you can, even if you are not alone, make sure he can read what it is you want there. You must smile at him and make him realise exactly what it is you are thinking about. You must use all the ammunition at your disposal, Henri, and every opportunity to deploy it. I know you dislike behaving in this manner but we all use whatever weapons are to hand when the need arises and like it or not, sex is a powerful motivator.”
He got to his feet, leaving her with her cheeks flushed.
“Speaking of which I'm going to dress for dinner. Choose your weapon with care, my dear," he said, clearly enjoying her discomfort as he smirked at her. "Your next battleground awaits.”
Henri cursed under her breath as he left her, and made her own way back to her room to dress. Annie was waiting for her and she drew her maid to the armoire and the rows of lovely dresses.
“Well then, Annie,” she said, frowning at the display of silks and muslins. “What here is most likely to topple this idiotic man's defences and give me the victory I need?”
Without hesitation Annie reached for the white silk she'd picked earlier that morning.
“Perhaps this time, ye'll heed my advice, my lady,” she said, one eyebrow raised.
Henri sighed, and nodded. “You win, Annie. I am entirely in your hands.”
***
A short while later, Henri stood in front of the full length mirror, feeling thoroughly scandalised.
“Oh, Annie, I can't!” she said, turning this way and that and looking at her own reflection, torn between disbelief that she could look so very lovely and shock at the idea of dining alone with two men, neither of whom she was married to dressed like ... like ... Words failed her.
“Ye can an' ye will,” Annie said, drying her hands after having spent some time damping down the fine silk so that it clung to every intimate curve.
“But you can see ...” she waved her hand to encompass pretty much everything, as the very fine unmentionables did little to hide what the dress was putting on display. Not to mention the fact that the bust was
cut so low Henri didn't dare take a deep breath for fear of spilling out of it. “I cannot imagine what the staff must think of me!” she wailed, covering her flushed cheeks with her hands.
“Oh, I reckon ye can, miss,” Annie muttered, chuckling to herself
“Oh, Annie! How can you laugh at me so?”
Annie turned back to her, clearly making a valiant effort to rearrange her face ... and failing miserably. “Oh, I'm sorry, my little duck,” she clucked, patting Henri's hot cheek with a cool hand. “But if ye want to marry that young man, well ... like 'is lordship said, you've got to use every weapon at ye disposal.” She looked her mistress over with satisfaction and nodded. “And a very fine arsenal ye 'ave too, if ye ask me.”
“Oh, Annie!” Henri covered her mouth with her hand and began to giggle despite herself. “You are awful,” she scolded, though Annie just poked her tongue out at her.
“Now then,” Annie instructed, gathering up discarded clothes as she went. “You remember everythin' I tol' ye?”
“I assure you the images are seared onto my brain,” Henri murmured, still feeling shocked to her bones at the instructions Annie had given her on how to seduce her reluctant pirate.
“Well then,” Annie said with a sigh. “Short of goin' an doin' the job for ye' ... an' I'm quite willin' to give it a go,” she added, waggling her eyebrows. “Then I've done all I can for ye.”
Henri snorted and moved to give Annie a hug. “You are utterly beyond the pale, Annie, and I thank the heavens for it.” She released her maid and walked to the door. “Well then, to arms,” she said, turning and grinning at Annie. “And let battle commence!”
Chapter 29
“Wherein no quarter is given.”
Lawrence sat by the fire in his brother's office, brooding. He knew damn well what Alex was up to. Trying to use poor, sweet, Henri as his bait, to get Lawrence caught on a hook he couldn't wriggle free of. It was ... it was unforgivable, and so far from the kind of behaviour he would have expected of his older brother that Lawrence could only finally admit defeat on one matter. Alex had changed.
The idea that Alex would not only allow, but actively encourage Henri to deploy such tactics, when he knew that she was quite an innocent, well it ... it beggared belief! And he had obviously been aiding and abetting her, for else, where on earth had that dress come from which she'd worn today? He'd damn near lost his mind when he'd seen his brother kissing her hand and blatantly admiring the view from his vantage point. But of course if Alex and Henri failed to get him on the hook, Alex would be forced to marry the girl. And he'd be doing a great deal more than admiring the view once she was his wife.
The idea made him want to kill something with his bare hands. One thing was for sure, if he didn't stay he would never be able to return in case he killed his own brother. He scowled into his glass, his mind filled with jealousy and rage, before draining it and reaching for a refill. He paused with his hand on the decanter as he realised that might not be the best idea. One thing he was sure hadn't changed. Alex hated to lose and rarely did, and he had no doubt at all that he would have encouraged poor, sweet Henri to up the anti.
He closed his eyes and swallowed a groan as he remembered her in the hidden tower room. The taste of her, the feel of her in his arms, her hand as it caressed him so intimately. He bit back a curse and forced the image from his mind as he found his breeches becoming uncomfortably tight. He got to his feet and began to pace, reliving as many unpleasant and repulsive memories as he could bring to mind in an effort to dispel the lingering effects of the tantalising Miss Morton.
“Ah, here you are,” said the deep voice of his brother as he entered the room. “I don't know about you but I'm famished. I can't wait to see what Madame Bertaud has rustled up for us now she's had a bit of notice. The woman was always a superb cook if memory serves.”
“Well you're in a very fine mood,” Lawrence remarked, feeling every bone in his body tense as his temper took a worse turn. How dare Alex be so damned cheery when he was doing everything in his power to help Henri drive him out of his right mind?
As if on cue, the woman herself appeared in the doorway and any comment either men might have made apparently died on their lips.
Lawrence was speechless. He tried to find something to say, words of outrage perhaps? A demand that Miss Morton retrace her steps this very moment and go and put something on more suitable for an unmarried woman. That she go and put something on! But he couldn't. The words simply wouldn't come. For standing in the doorway was not a woman of flesh and blood, it simply couldn't be. She was a Goddess, an ancient deity stepped out from the veil between worlds, there was no other explanation. Lawrence had never seen a woman look so lovely, and never had he wanted one as badly. The white silk dress was so very fine that the light from the corridor behind her shone through, illuminating everything that the dress itself didn't highlight by clinging lovingly to her every curve. The soft white emphasised her creamy skin, the delicate pink of cheeks and lips, and the dark mass of her hair that was arranged around her face, with artless curls that framed that sweet heart-shaped face and those huge brown eyes. Those eyes that fell upon him with such warmth, and hope, and desire. Oh dear God, he was a dead man. For he didn't know how he would be able to refuse her anything, and if he stayed he would bring a world of trouble to her door, and for that he would never forgive himself.
Shaking himself from his reverie he dragged his unwilling eyes away to look at his brother, and found with fury he was every bit under this siren's spell as he was.
“Alex!” he snapped, to which his brother looked to him with surprise. “Shall we go through?” he practically growled, moving forward to take Henri's arm before Alex had the chance to.
“Good evening, Lawrence,” Henri said, her voice quiet, though he was fairly certain there was a thread of amusement underneath that soft tone. Her hand was light upon his arm and he refused to look down at her for fear of getting ensnared in those eyes.
He gritted his teeth and managed to get them into the dining room and Henri seated, so that at least some of her was obscured beneath the table. Once he'd taken his own seat he discovered this helped very little at all as he was directly opposite her and everything he could still see only served to make his mind wander to consider everything he couldn't. Henri, of course, was doing everything she could to make matters worse. Whenever he looked at her, she was watching him, with such a seductive light in her eyes that he ached with the need to show exactly what it was she was asking him for.
He wondered, by now approaching a state that he could only describe as frantic, if someone had schooled her for tonight's performance or if it was just natural talent. And then she scandalised him further by picking up an asparagus spear with delicate fingers, and closing those luscious pink lips around it, all the time looking at him with such clear intent of what she was really thinking about, that he found himself grow hard, right there at the table. He clenched his fists in his lap and forced himself to look at his plate, the servants and nowhere else. It was going to be a bloody long night.
By the time the dessert was served Lawrence was at his wit's end. Alex had obviously decided that being married to the vision by his side would not be such a bad idea after all and had turned on the charm. He had flirted outrageously and in a manner totally unfit for a lady of good character, but to Lawrence's horror, Henri had not only allowed it but responded in kind. Of course he could have mitigated the situation by being equally charming and flirtatious, but jealousy had tied his tongue, rage had made him dare not speak for fear of calling his brother out, and pity at his own situation made him sink further into despair. So by the time a crystal dish of syllabub was placed in front of him he had become a glowering and unhappy presence at the table, in stark contrast to their laughter and frivolity.
“Well, Lawrence, what do you say?”
“What?” he snapped, torn out of his dark thoughts and then recalling himself as Alex raised an eyebrow at him. “I b
eg your pardon,” he said, with little grace. “I was not attending the conversation.”
“You don't say?” Alex murmured, idly tracing a pattern on the damask table cloth. He leaned back in his chair and regarding his younger brother with undisguised amusement glittering in those cool grey eyes. “Well forgive me for interrupting your thoughts with our idle chatter, but I had suggested you take Miss Morton riding tomorrow, out to the ruined abbey. It appears, like many young ladies, Henri has a love of the Gothic and the macabre, and as sadly I am to be away from home all day, the pleasure of the outing must fall to you.”
Lawrence gritted his teeth. “No, I'm afraid that won't be possible,” he said, thinking of nothing further but the need to spite Alex and his damn scheming. Turning Lawrence's beautiful girl to his own devices and dressing her up and teaching her to act like a courtesan was beyond anything he would have believed of his own brother. Well damn him, he couldn't play if Lawrence was no longer here.
“Why ever not?” There was a dark and challenging tone to Alex's question which didn't escape him but there was nothing else to be done. He had to get away, get away from both of them before he was too entangled to ever be able to leave.
“Because I won't be here. I intend to be on my way at first light.”
There was silence at the table with the exception of a soft gasp from Henri, and he found he couldn't meet her eyes. It was for the best. The words kept circling over and over in his head but the more he heard them the less sense they seemed to make.
“I see,” Alex said. There was no inflection in his voice and the room seemed utterly still.
Finally Alex broke the silence once more, placing his napkin on the table and getting to his feet. “In that case I will bid you a good evening so that you may take your leave of Miss Morton now, as I imagine you will not wish to disturb her at such an unfashionable hour of the morning. I, however, will see you before you go, Lawrence.” This last was said with a tone that brooked no argument and Lawrence was forced to nod his acceptance. He wished he had the nerve to follow Alex out of the room without another word but he couldn't treat Henri in such a way. It would be unforgivable.
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