by Mary Brendan
‘Have you finished?’ His voice was icy and quiet.
Elise jerked a nod, not knowing what else to do.
‘Good...it must be my turn to say something. I have not lied to you or betrayed you in any way. Nevertheless, I see now that marrying you would be a mistake.’
‘I’m glad we are in agreement,’ Elise uttered clearly, while feeling that the wind had been whipped from her sails and the moral high ground, for some reason, was no longer hers. Gathering her skirts in shaking fists, she made to haughtily pass him.
A vice-like clasp on her arm put her back where she’d been. ‘I’ve listened to all you’ve had to say. You’ll return me the courtesy whether you like it or not.’
Elise shoved at him and he pushed back, just hard enough to tip her over on to some hay bales directly behind. Before she could lever herself upright he followed her down, bracing an arm either side of her. Slowly she fell back away from him until her body was supported on her elbows.
‘So...where was I?’ Alex smoothly enquired, his eyes roving her tear-stained complexion, settling on her soft pink mouth. ‘Ah, yes...I remember...reminding you of your manners.’
Elise folded forwards in fury, unwittingly bringing their faces close. ‘My manners?’ she hissed at him, eyes sparking golden fire. ‘Do you think it is right...or respectful...to have a squalid assignation with a woman while your fiancée is shopping for her trousseau on the eve of her wedding?’
‘Indeed not,’ Alex answered solemnly. ‘Had I been guilty of such I would deserve to be castigated by you and horsewhipped by your father.’
Elise blinked and swallowed, then did so again. ‘You weren’t at the Crown tavern this afternoon with Celia Chase?’ she whispered.
‘Yes...I was...’
A sob rasped Elise’s throat and she lashed out at him for daring to torment her and raise a tiny hope that he might be innocent.
He was ready for her this time. He caught one fist, then the other as they flew at him, forcing them down and pinning them on the hay above her head.
‘But the meeting was by accident rather than by design,’ he carried on as though there hadn’t been a break in his dialogue. ‘She was surprised and delighted to see me...I was astonished and angry to see her.’
Elise snorted her disgust. ‘I shall not even dignify such rubbish with a response. You were seen kissing her.’
‘By whom?’
‘It doesn’t matter!’
‘No, it doesn’t. Shall I tell you what matters, Elise?’
‘Nothing matters any more; it is all finished with,’ she cried, swinging her head to one side, chafing her cheek on her stubbly bed. She was far too aware of one of his knees wedged between her legs, of the vast expanse of his torso looming over her.
‘Well, I’ll tell you anyway. It matters that you have so readily turned your back on me and doubted everything I’ve told you without first allowing me to defend myself.’
‘You cannot blame me for that!’ Elise flared, her tawny eyes springing to his face like talons. ‘My aunt and her friend are not blind and neither are they liars. I’m grateful that they arrived unexpectedly bearing the news and saved me from making a dreadful mistake tomorrow.’ She flounced her face away from the grim humour slanting his mouth on hearing her betray her source.
‘Neither am I a liar,’ he said slowly. ‘I, too, am grateful that they turned up or I might have remained unaware that you are prepared to condemn me and act like a jealous shrew.’
‘Jealous shrew!’ Elise gasped, outraged by the description. ‘A jealous shrew might have found a gun and shot you. My papa said he would call you out if he were able.’ She strained to free a hand to reinforce her argument with a slap.
‘I’m sorry your father has been worried unnecessarily,’ Alex said, easily thwarting her struggle. ‘If he is still interested in having the details, and it will settle his mind, tell him I have a witness to my innocence just as you have people who imagine they observed my guilt.’
‘You think I, or my father, would believe a word your doxy says on your behalf?’ Elise choked scornfully.
‘I doubt she’d defend me,’ Alex muttered drily. ‘But others who know the truth of the matter would. I stopped at the Crown because one of my horses threw a shoe. I was on my way to do business in Enfield at the time. I did run into Celia Chase there and I also met your friend Mr Chapman.’
Elise whipped her head about to widen astonished eyes on him. ‘Mr Chapman also saw you having a rendezvous with your mistress?’ She raised despairing eyes to the timbered ceiling. ‘God in heaven! How many others have you shocked today with your disgusting behaviour?’
‘The only people shocked by my behaviour are those who’ve jumped to conclusions over it,’ Alex answered quietly. ‘Anthony Chapman was present when I made Celia Chase turn around and head back towards London in her carriage. She had it in her head to come to Hertfordshire to try to persuade me to resume our affair. Her disappointment at my rejection made her loud and argumentative.’ An acid smile twisted his mouth as the first glimmer of uncertainty clouded Elise’s eyes. ‘Mr Chapman would not only vouch for what he saw, but what he heard. And I have to say, sweet, that being ambushed twice in one day by jealous harpies is more than any man should have to put up with.’
‘Don’t you dare class me with her!’ Elise burst out in wrathful indignation. ‘I’m not jealous, I’m livid, and have every right to be so!’
‘No...you don’t, Elise,’ Alex contradicted, his voice roughened by bitterness. ‘That’s why you’ll listen to everything I have to say and I’ll warrant you’ll be haunted by it for the rest of your life.’ He shifted their locked fingers, ran the back of his fist over her satiny jaw in a specious caress. ‘Just as you’ll remember accusing me and rejecting me for no good reason.’ He paused. ‘After Celia had gone your friends’ father had a drink with me at the Crown. He said I had saved him a journey to visit you.’
Elise moistened her parched mouth with a slow circling tongue, unaware of an intense gaze tracking the movement. An awful pang of doubt was making her stomach squirm and she sensed her temper disintegrating, too. She wanted desperately to be able to justify her behaviour, for the thought of losing everything for nothing was too awful to bear. But...if he was right and she was wrong she would deserve his fury and contempt. And he would deserve her humble apology.
She trusted Mr Chapman implicitly and knew he’d never cover up another man’s philandering with lies. He would tell the truth, if not to her, then to her father...and Alex knew his version of events could easily be checked.
‘Do you not want to know how I saved him a journey?’
Elise mutely moved her head in a small affirmative because regret and humiliation were already closing her throat.
‘He was on his way to give you a small packet: a present of lace from his daughters. He asked me to deliver it. It is in the box on my curricle.’ A mirthless laugh preceded him concluding his case. ‘The family send all best wishes for our future happiness.’
Elise’s lashes fluttered down over the stinging heat in her eyes. The appalling irony of him bringing her a wedding gift, coupled with his curtness, had pierced her heart. ‘Why did you go to Enfield?’ she burst out in despair. ‘You said you would be busy with marriage plans today.’
‘And so I was...buying you jewellery from a goldsmith,’ he replied. ‘Now I regret having wasted my time. It seems there will be no need of wedding rings.’ His blackening eyes dropped to her mouth, travelled on to roam her cloaked body.
‘Why haven’t you asked me to let you up, Elise?’ he enquired with sultry mockery.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Let me up,’ she managed hoarsely.
‘I don’t think you really want me to, sweet.’ In a corner of his mind Alex knew he was acting idiotically. But the fr
ustration assaulting him wasn’t easy to quash. And neither was the need to punish her for her lack of trust. He’d bared his soul in a way he’d never before done with any woman. He’d pledged eternal love and faithfulness to Elise and meant every word, yet it was as though those solemn vows had meant little to her. He’d done nothing wrong today other than return late to dine with her and her family. And the idea that he might never have a chance to make love to her was a gut-wrenching torment.
‘We might not be getting married...but why cancel the wedding night?’ Alex purred. ‘People already imagine we’re lovers...me included in moments of madness despite the painful effect it has on me.’
Elise detected a harsh undercurrent in his voice, but the hand trailing her skin remained featherlight. Her eyelids drooped at the sensation of his long artful fingers brushing against her cheek, curling about her small ear to tantalise the sensitive hollow behind. She flicked her head away from the caress.
‘We might have our differences but we’re compatible in one very pleasurable way. Shall we enjoy that and forget about the rest?’
Alex dipped his head, touched together their mouths with a tenderness she’d not expected. If he were still furious with her, surely he wouldn’t kiss her so courteously. Hope unfurled within Elise that perhaps all might not be lost. Surely he must understand how terribly shocked she’d been to hear such a report from her aunt. Her relatives cared about her, wanted to protect her from harm. Whereas she hadn’t been able to believe her fiancé could do so...
With wounding insight Elise realised Alex was treating her coldly because of her lack of faith, because he was feeling as ill used as she was.
She parted her lips, inviting in the tongue teasing her, yearning to please him. She was aware that his hands had released hers to flip open the fastenings on her cloak so firm fingers could thrust inside and rove her figure. Elise sensed the familiar heat within kindling beneath his skilful manipulation. Her breasts were tingling in anticipation of being touched and her hips shifting restlessly on hay. He widened her mouth, fusing their lips with bruising pressure. She knew in a few minutes she’d be enslaved by his sensual skill, unable to resist him or whatever he wanted to do. Yet there was so much more that still needed to be said. With a tiny moan she jerked her head aside so his mouth swept moistly across her flushed cheek.
‘If we could just talk some more, Alex,’ she begged huskily, her breath coming in short pants that grazed her nipples against his chest. ‘I know we are both feeling injured, but I want to trust you...I do trust you...’ she hastily amended.
‘Thank you,’ he muttered with obvious sarcasm. ‘And do you expect me to trust you?’ The taunt was murmured close to her ear.
‘Yes!’ she keened, scraping her scalp to and fro on hay. ‘You must...because I love you...and want to be your wife.’ Elise flung her face around, clasped his chin in a small hand. ‘You would have been equally suspicious...equally angry...had you heard I’d been seen embracing another man. I know you would, so don’t deny it!’
‘I’ve not once imagined you might have another man.’
Elise gulped a laugh. ‘You thought me a harlot the minute we met.’
‘And you thought me...?’ he enquired silkily.
‘I thought you...’ Her voice tailed off for if she were to be honest no flattering description could emerge from her lips. Her fingers slipped away from the abrasive skin of his jaw.
‘...a rake up to no good,’ Alex finished for her. ‘That’s what you thought me. Much as you do now. So why shouldn’t I prove you right, Elise? We might not suit as man and wife, but it seems I have a vacancy now for a mistress.’
Elise jerked up her arms, coiled them about his neck, ramming her face into his shoulder so she could no longer see the insolent burning gaze flowing over her, making her feel stripped naked. She was within a heartbeat of willingly allowing him any liberty he wanted to take. And when in a delirium of passion, she might agree to any role he offered her, simply so she might stay close to him.
He loosened her grip and his head lowered, but she whipped up a hand, covering her lips with four quivering fingers before he could touch her. Alex growled a laugh at her tactic to keep him at bay, removing the obstruction with insulting ease before letting their clasped fingers fall aside.
Elise turned her head, staring at eerie straw edifices. Suddenly she flung her face around, eyes blazing. ‘You will listen to me,’ she insisted, eyes darting to and fro, searching for words in the barn’s dusky atmosphere. She’d endured agonies on hearing how his mistress had flown to kiss him in the tavern courtyard. She’d make him admit it must have been harrowing for her to watch tears dripping from the end of her father’s nose because he’d had to shatter her dreams and give her that report so soon after celebrating her engagement.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve falsely accused you, but—’ Elise began firmly before being interrupted.
‘You have falsely accused me, but I’m getting over it, sweetheart,’ Alex murmured throatily, undoing with practised ease her bodice buttons and chemise ribbons, then lowering his mouth to tightening pink-tipped breasts.
Instinctively Elise arched to increase the exquisite sensation of his clever tongue circling on her cool pearly flesh. He drew hard on the taut little nubs and she gasped, jerking her hips up to grind against his rock-hard thigh. The arguments forming in her mind scattered as a wild ache streaked to the core of her. She instinctively parted her thighs to the relentless slide of his leg, whimpering his name as the limb scuffed its target.
Alex raised his head at that soft call and looked at her features, blonde head thrown back in tense rapture. From somewhere behind his crazed desire he dragged the realisation that no matter what heights of pleasure he took her to, tomorrow she would hate him. And so would her father. Walter Dewey would have been right to couple him with his uncle: a man who’d wrench apart a family to quench his selfish lust.
But Elise was no passing fancy as Arabella had been to Thomas Venner. In a way Alex realised he wished she were because then it would all be easy; there’d be no inner battle and his body wouldn’t feel like a tortured wreck going up in flames. He’d carry on and give them both release.
Elise was naïve, inexperienced in carnality, but instead of cherishing the gift of her innocence he was on the point of using it against her...because he was arrogant and immature enough to put his injured pride above that of the woman he adored.
‘What are you doing?’
The murmured question exploded in his head, sent him surging upright because he didn’t like the answer he’d found. He dragged together the edges of her cloak, concealing the enticing sight of her perfect body from his hungry eyes, before striding away.
Elise sat up slowly, her eyelids drooping in mortification. She drew up her knees, resting her forehead on them while trying to calm her raw emotions. It seemed even her body was no longer wanted by him and, instead of feeling ashamed of her wantonness, she felt bereft at being so wholly rejected.
She dragged herself to the edge of the hay and stood up. Forcing up her chin, she tidied her clothes and hair with unsteady fingers while taking searching glances here and there to locate him in the shadows. She hadn’t heard the barn door creak, but couldn’t be sure he hadn’t gone away and left her.
The depressing thought of being so absolutely abandoned made a sob well in her chest. And then she saw him as a slanting moonbeam fell from above. He’d hunkered down against the door, his outstretched arms resting on his knees, his head lowered towards them. But it seemed he was aware of her approach.
‘I’m sorry...’
‘So am I,’ Elise whispered in response to his hoarse apology. ‘Will you take me home?’ She managed to force level civility into her tone.
‘Where does your father think you are?’
He hadn’t moved, even to raise his face to ask her tha
t question. It seemed so long ago that she had been crying in her room while below the others ate supper. Her sister and her aunt had tried to persuade her to go down, too, but the thought of food had made her feel nauseated. Besides, she’d been determined to confront Alex immediately. She’d not wanted to upset her father again by defying him—and he would have forbidden her meeting the scoundrel, as he’d called him—so she hadn’t told anybody she was going out.
Gentlemen had their baser habits, her aunt had confided, patting her hand and trying to console her, and wives had to learn to live with them. Now Elise wished dearly she had acted sensibly, as her aunt had said she must, and rested quietly to put things into perspective. Instead, she’d crept out to beg Mr Francis to take her to town.
Had she not, Alex would by now have arrived to see her, bringing her Verity and Fiona’s gift and news of his meeting with Anthony Chapman. The scandalous scene her aunt had witnessed would have been explained away and Elise knew she might have felt privately quite sorry that his mistress had made a fool of herself. Now it was she who’d made a fool of herself and destroyed her chance at happiness into the bargain.
‘Where does your father think you are, Elise?’ Alex repeated his question, sliding his back up the door so he stood leaning against it, hands in pockets.
‘Mr Francis brought me to town on the trap. I sent him home with a message for Papa that you would bring me back after we had talked.’ She was glad she’d managed to sound composed. ‘Will you do that, please?’
‘Of course...in a moment...if you want my company. If not, I’ll get my tiger to take you back.’
They both remained quite still while an echoing silence seemed to soar up to the rafters.
‘I want you to,’ Elise murmured, a catch to her voice. She knew he was feeling guilty for having kept her down on the straw when she’d said she would get up. But he’d known the truth and in temper had taunted her with it. She craved his touch as keenly as he would bestow it. But for her pride and fear of rejection holding her back she’d launch herself at him now and tempt him to do it again.