Tempted By His Kiss

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by Tracy Anne Warren


  His gut clenched as though he’d just suffered a roundhouse punch. “Did she say where she was going?”

  “No. I asked her, but she only said that she had to leave and how sorry she was to be going without a proper farewell. I tried to get her to stay, at least until you or Mama came home, but she wouldn’t listen. She gave me a hug, then hurried off down the stairs. I know Croft and one of the footmen did what they could to delay her, but she told them she’d leave on foot unless they called her a hackney cab. She was crying, Cade. What happened to make her cry?”

  “I don’t know. But not to worry, I’ll find her.” How, he wasn’t sure, since he didn’t know why she’d left, let alone where she might be traveling. Surely she hadn’t believed all that claptrap he spouted last night when he’d been taunting Everett? Then again, maybe she had.

  Meg’s maidservant appeared then, eyes wide in her pale face. “Beggin’ pardon, your lordship, but Miss Amberley asked me to give these to ye on your return.” Lifting her hand, she held out a short stack of letters.

  He scowled. “What are you doing here, Amy? Why did you not accompany your mistress?”

  The girl trembled. “So ye know, do ye? About her leaving?”

  “Yes. I know. My sister just informed me of her departure. So, why was Miss Amberley allowed to leave unaccompanied?” Why, he thought, had she been allowed to leave at all?

  “She wouldn’t let me go with her. She was all upset, packing her bag with nothing but her old things. Left all them pretty gowns and shoes and whatnot behind. Said how they weren’t really hers and she weren’t going ter take ’em.”

  “Yes, go on.”

  “Well, when I couldn’t change her mind about goin’—an’ I tried, I really did—I told her I’d pack my bags, too. But she said no. That I weren’t to come, ’cause she didn’t have the money, but that she’d send for me after, if everythin’ worked out like she hoped.”

  The ache in his belly increased, panic knotting tight as a sailor’s hitch beneath his breastbone. Good God, she is traveling alone. And it wasn’t as if she was unaware of the potential dangers she faced journeying without so much as a maid for protection. What is she thinking, doing something so risky? When he caught up with her—and he would—the two of them were going to have a very serious talk about this proclivity of hers to ignore the need for safety. In the meantime, he just wanted her back.

  “Have you any idea where she might have gone?”

  The maid shook her head. “Mayhap she says in her letter.”

  “Yes. Very well, you may go,” he said, dismissing the servant. The girl curtsied and moved away.

  Impatiently, he shuffled through the correspondence, which included letters addressed to his mother, Mallory, Edward, and himself. Singling out the one with his name inscribed in Meg’s neat, feminine hand, he tore it open.

  As he did, a diamond ring tumbled free. Her engagement ring—or rather, the ring he’d given her as part of their false engagement. Obviously, she’d decided to return it. Clenching the band inside his palm, he slipped it into his pocket, then opened the letter and began to read.

  Clybourne House

  June 1809

  Dear Lord Cade,

  Pray forgive the abrupt nature of my departure, since I admit, with all humility, that it denotes a marked lack of courage on my part. But I find I cannot remain any longer, and know that I would never be able to voice aloud what I shall endeavour to express in this missive.

  First, allow me to thank you and your family for your many kindnesses to me over these past months. Recent events, however, have reminded me rather forcefully of the temporary nature of the bargain into which you and I entered prior to our arrival in Town. Given that I have failed to live up to my end of the arrangement, I see no reason to persist in what has become a fruitless endeavour.

  Pray do not imagine that I shall importune you further. I want no vows or promises made for honour’s sake alone, since such sacrifice would only lead to sorrow for us both, as you so rightly stated at the outset. I, therefore, release you from your pledge and absolve you of any further sense of obligation you may feel toward me. Please know that what we shared was done with no expectations of any sort on my part.

  I shall be resuming the journey I was making, when first we met, with the expectation of a generous, familial welcome at its end. Do not worry for either my health or welfare, I shall be well in all regards.

  Yours sincerely,

  Margaret Amberley

  Devil take it! He crushed the page in his hand. What a heartless scoundrel she must think me. How unhappy she must be to have run away.

  Yet she hadn’t said she did not want him, only that she did not wish to be married out of a sense of duty and obligation. Well, he would disabuse her of that notion the instant he caught up to her.

  And if she left because she does not love you and does not want to be your wife? whispered a niggling voice.

  Well, if that was so, he would just have to press his case and convince her to change her mind.

  At least she’d made the search for her easier, since he now knew where she was headed. Glancing up, he found Esme watching him.

  “What does it say?” she asked.

  “That Meg has gone to her aunt in Scotland. I shall be traveling after her immediately.”

  A moment later Zeus barked with an excess of puppyish energy as he raced up and down the hall. Cade felt a bit like that himself, full of pent-up anxiety, knowing he had not a moment to waste.

  “You had best take your friend there for his walk now, before you’re missed in the schoolroom,” he told his sister.

  “I hope Meg comes back.”

  “She will,” he promised.

  She has to, he thought, since anything else would be unbearable.

  CHAPTER 24

  Meg leaned a shoulder against the cracked brown leather upholstery of the mail coach and gazed out the window at the passing countryside. The late afternoon sun hung high and strong in the sky, virid (green) patches of tall grass waving between cultivated fields of ripening wheat and corn.

  Folding her arms up close to her chest, she did her best not to notice the occasional press from the elbow of the bony, gap-toothed man wedged in next to her. She’d tried scooting over, but there was no more room to scoot—not with herself and two other passengers crammed onto the same seat. Another equally hampered group sat packed like sausages on the other side.

  She wished she’d thought to bring a book. If she had, perhaps a story might have kept her mind occupied. Of course, she would probably have just found herself thinking about Cade again, as she had been doing every two minutes all day.

  She would have begun thinking about how much he loved to read, only to move on to consider how handsome he looked in his spectacles. Next, she would have thought about how much she would miss seeing him frown over some passage with which he disagreed, and how empty everything would seem without the chance of hearing his deep, masculine voice as he discussed something of interest. And the way his broad palms looked when he gestured to make a point. And how beautifully formed those hands were. How strong they were when he held her. How glorious they felt sliding over her body at night, when he made love to her…

  Abruptly, she cut off the thoughts. Such nights were over now, and as for Cade, she would not be seeing him again. If she knew what was good for her, she would do well to erase him from her memory. But how was that to be done when she’d given him her heart? When he was the only man she knew she would ever love?

  I did the right thing, she told herself with a firm internal rebuke. She’d chosen the only path possible, since staying would have been utterly insupportable.

  So why then did she feel as if some vital part of her had been cut out? Why did she wish she could lay her head down and weep until every last tear inside her had been shed?

  But she refused to cry, not here in this cramped coach among all these strangers. Once she reached Scotland, there would be time enough
for tears; years and years for her to weep, if that is what it took for her to get over Cade.

  Assuming she found welcome with her aunt when she arrived. She had no idea how the old lady would react, and whether she might find herself shown the door again only moments after walking through it.

  If her aunt refused to receive her, she would travel south again. She had a few friends from her youth who would take her in—long enough at least for her to find a paid position. Perhaps she could hire out as a governess. Or as a lady’s companion, if the other option would not serve. Somehow, she would make her way.

  She was still contemplating that lowering notion when she heard several of her fellow passengers exclaim over some commotion taking place on the road outside.

  “Wot’s he think he’s doing?” complained a man in the window seat opposite. “Must be some madman, racin’ ’is carriage like that.”

  “It looks like he’s waving, trying to get the coach to stop,” said a round-faced woman. “Merciful heavens, you don’t think he’s a highwayman, do you?”

  “Not in that rig, he’s not,” spoke a third. “Looks like some toff out causing trouble. Probably in his cups and half blind to boot.”

  “Oh, I hope he’s not one of those drunken young lords who’s tryin’ to win a wager. I heard about some fool who took the reins to a coach-and-four last month. He sent every folk inside to their death with his reckless driving.”

  “Don’t look now, but here he comes on the other side. Tryin’ to pass again.”

  Leaning forward, Meg strained to see who the madman might be. Her eyes widened when she recognized the tall, broad-shouldered driver wielding the reins.

  Cade!

  Slumping low in the seat, she prayed he would not see her. But then, he must know she was inside, she realized, otherwise, why would he be trying to stop the coach? And come to think of it, why was he here at all? She’d assumed he might be secretly relieved to read her letter and discover her gone. No need for any awkward confrontations or recriminations on either side. Maybe his pride was involved, though, and his sense of honour. Well, she wasn’t interested in satisfying either one.

  Less than a minute later the vehicle began to slow. As it drew to a halt, voices sounded outside, while Cade and the driver engaged in a brief debate. Then suddenly the door was wrenched open on a set of squeaking hinges.

  The woman who’d expressed her fear of being set upon by highwaymen drew in an audible breath—all eyes turning toward Cade as he filled the doorway on the side farthest from Meg.

  Shrinking down farther in her seat, she tried to make herself as small as possible, in hopes of disappearing within the tight mass of passengers. But Cade’s keen, forest-green gaze locked on her with unerring accuracy, pinning her with a steady yet implacable look.

  “Meg,” he said, holding out his hand in clear expectation of her leaning forward to take it.

  Instead, she retained her seat. “You should not have come. I’ll thank you to go away, my lord.”

  “Not until we’ve talked. In private,” he added, plainly aware of the small audience watching them, as though they were actors putting on a very interesting play.

  “I have nothing to say. Did you not have my letter?”

  His jaw stiffened at a familiar angle. “I did, else I would not have known in which direction to drive after you.”

  Drat! She cursed to herself. She knew she should never have mentioned her intended destination, but hadn’t wanted his family to be concerned.

  “It makes no difference,” she said, folding her arms tighter against her chest. “I am not coming back, so you may go home and tell everyone I am quite well. Now, you are delaying all these good people, not to mention interfering with the Royal Mail Service’s usually punctual schedule.”

  “The postmaster can levy a fine against me, should he wish. Of course, if you would simply step down, the issue would be resolved.”

  “As it would if you would just be on your way.”

  Once again he extended his palm. “Meg, enough.”

  “Leave the miss alone,” said one of the passengers. “Wot d’ye want with her anyway?”

  “Yeah. If she don’t want ter come wit’ ye, I says leave her be,” declared another.

  “I might,” Cade said in a determined tone. “But this woman is my wife, you see, and she has run away. I am retrieving her.”

  Meg’s arms fell to her sides, despite the cramped quarters. “I am not your wife!” She turned to the others. “I am not his wife. He’s lying.”

  “Why would I lie?” he said, showering them all with his most affable smile. “Most men try to deny being married, not the other way around.”

  The mood among her fellows changed, the gazes shifting toward Meg ranging from disbelieving to suspicious.

  “If she is your wife,” the bony man next to her demanded, “then where’s her ring?”

  A murmur of agreement rumbled through the coach interior.

  Cade paused for a moment, then thrust a hand into his coat pocket. After a brief search, he held out his palm to reveal the diamond ring she’d returned inside her letter. “Right here,” he declared. “She left it behind when she ran off this morning.”

  The mood shifted again, turning to condemnation this time.

  “Well, missus,” one of the men announced, “you’d best be gettin’ along. You’ve cost us all half our dinner break at the next inn.”

  “Indeed you should be going,” stated the woman with a disapproving glare. “A wife’s place is with her husband.”

  “But he isn’t my husband!” Meg declared, defending herself.

  The others would hear none of it, though, and acting in tandem, soon had her manoeuvred out of her seat and pushed into Cade’s waiting arms. He received her with a gracious smile and lifted her to the ground.

  Her traveling valise came hurtling down from where it had been strapped atop the coach, its impact sending up a brown plume of road dust. The coach door was slammed shut moments later and the horses set to. Cade drew her safely back as the coach raced off down the lane.

  For a long moment Meg stared after the departing vehicle, her lips parted in astonishment. As soon as the coach vanished, she snapped her mouth closed. With a glare at Cade, she picked up her traveling case and stomped toward the side of the road. Setting down the sturdy piece of luggage, she turned around and took a seat upon it.

  Cade studied her. “What is this all about?”

  She crossed her arms. “I am waiting for the next coach, assuming there is a seat available, when it comes through in…oh, three hours or so. I only hope they will not charge me again, since I possess limited funds for the fare.”

  Reaching again into his pocket, he drew out a pair of coins, holding them out as he strolled toward her. “Here. This should more than suffice.”

  She made no effort to take his offering. “Put that away. I do not want your money.”

  “Then what is it you do want? Why did you run off, Meg?” he asked, his gentle tone working against the righteous sense of anger she’d been nursing in order to hold him at bay.

  “I gave my reasons in my letter,” she stated.

  “Ah, yes, the letter. I found it left rather more questions than answers.”

  She lowered her gaze to her boots. “If it did, I am sorry, but it said all I have to say. I am not coming back, Cade, so you might as well get in your carriage and leave me here to wait for the next mail coach.”

  “I would never leave you.” He stopped beside her, his large, booted feet entering her line of sight.

  “And what were you thinking,” she charged, “telling all those people that I am your wife?”

  “Why should I not, when that is what you will be soon enough.”

  Her breath caught at the base of her throat. “I won’t marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I will not be wed out of obligation. I told you that.”

  “And so you did, in your letter. What I want t
o know is if you will be wed for love?”

  “What?” Her gaze flew upward, her eyes widening when they encountered the open, black velvet jeweller’s box he was holding. Inside lay a stunning moonstone ring, the pearly blue gem surrounded by a cluster of glittering diamonds set in gold. “What is that?”

  “It’s yours, if you’ll have it. I know it’s unusual, but I thought the stone suited you. I went out this morning to buy it.”

  “You did? Why?”

  He reached for her hand and drew her to her feet. “So I could ask you to marry me for real this time. So I could give you a ring that had no taint of falsehood behind it. I love you, Meg. Please make me happy and say you will be my wife.”

  “But you don’t want to marry me.”

  “Do I not?” He drew her into his arms.

  She trembled. “No. And you don’t love me. You love Calida, even though she is lost to you forever.”

  “I see you believed my lies to Everett. Forgive me for that.”

  “But they weren’t lies. Not all of them. You loved her, I know you did.” She fixed her eyes on his cravat, afraid to glance up for fear of what she might see.

  “Yes, I loved Calida, and I mourned her. But I think a part of my grief came more out of guilt than a true sense of loss. For some while now I’ve had new feelings. I suppose I didn’t want to let myself admit it, didn’t want to take the risk. But I can’t deny the truth anymore. I have fallen in love again—with you.”

  Her heart squeezed inside her chest, unable to believe what she was hearing. Her gaze met his and she couldn’t look away.

  “What I feel for you is nothing compared to what I had with her,” he went on. “My emotions are so much deeper, so much stronger than I ever imagined they could be. When I nearly lost you last night, I realized how much I love you and how bleak my life would be without you in it. And when I found you gone today…well, I only stayed sane knowing I could come after you and that I had the hope of getting you back. Please take mercy and tell me you’ll have me. I don’t believe I could bear anything less.”

  Tears burst from her, a violent sob catching in her throat as she pressed herself against him.

 

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