She simply stared at him, her expression unreadable.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, both meaning it and not meaning it. It was true because he’d gone too far. It was not true because this had been his fantasy for nearly a decade. And reality was so much better.
But there was nothing to it. He couldn’t have her, as much as he wanted to. And now he had to walk away. Walk away before he claimed her again, and this time not just with his fingers.
He turned on his heel and bolted. And this time, she did not follow.
* * *
Audrey watched Jude leave her through bleary, confused eyes. It felt like everything around her was moving slower, that it sparkled, and if she hadn’t been leaning against the tree, she probably would have been in a heap on the grass.
So that was passion. Real passion.
She had not lied to Jude. It was something she feared and that hadn’t changed. What she and Jude had done was so powerful, so unexpected, so out of control that she couldn’t help but fear it. But there was another feeling now. Deeper and more powerful than the fear.
She wanted more. Her body already ached for more and now she recognized what that deep ache was. Why she felt it every time Jude came near her. Why it kept her up at night, sweaty and unsatisfied.
It was desire, it was passion.
It was…transformative, actually. She had become a wanton with just one touch. And Jude, well, he had become hard, aggressive…utterly arousing. All his kindness and humor had vanished when he cupped her sex.
And she was left confused as his figure disappeared into the woods at the bottom of the hill.
Would he come back? She had no idea. She wanted to go after him, but she didn’t. It was all too dangerous. Instead, she pushed away from the tree and started up the hill back toward the house.
Everything looked different now, as if she saw it through new eyes. Pleasure had changed everything.
She shook her head as she reached the steps that led to the back terrace and the door beyond it. She entered one of the parlors not under construction and trudged into the hall, her mind a million miles away as she continued to struggle with what had just happened and her unwanted reaction to it.
She didn’t even notice the servant who approached her until he cleared his throat and made her jump.
“I’m sorry to bother you, my lady,” the footman said. “Your mother began asking for you half an hour ago, but we weren’t certain where you were.”
Audrey’s stomach dropped. Her mother. God, she had all but forgotten her mother was even here. That she had a family at all. That was how powerful such passion was. It could wipe away everything else in the world.
“I-I will join her right away,” she stammered, trying to avoid the servant’s eyes for fear he would see that she had changed and recognize the reason why. She almost felt as if she were wearing a giant sign on her chest that read “wanton”.
He nodded, his face utterly benign, and scurried away. Audrey sighed in relief at being alone and stared up the long set of stairs that led to the family quarters. Would her mother see the change in her? Could she hide what she had done from someone who knew her so well?
She hoped she could, for she had no choice but to join the dowager. Up the stairs she went, every step feeling like her feet were made of lead, and down the hall to Lady Woodley’s familiar chamber. She opened the door and found her mother tucked into her bed, reading. When Audrey entered, she set her book aside.
“There you are,” she said, motioning Audrey closer.
Audrey’s feet faltered, but she managed to drag herself to her mother’s side and press a kiss to her forehead. “Hello, Mama. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“You didn’t keep me waiting,” Lady Woodley insisted as she waved her off and Audrey took a seat beside her. “I only asked for you a half hour ago.”
Audrey swallowed. A half hour ago she had been pinned to a tree, wracked with pleasure at Jude’s sure hands. She felt heat creeping up her neck at the memory.
“How did things go today with Samson?” her mother asked, piercing her memories with that terrifying question.
She blinked. “Nothing. Fine. Why?”
The dowager wrinkled her brow at the incongruous answer to her direct question and Audrey suddenly realized how loud her response had been.
“No reason,” her mother said slowly, observing Audrey carefully. “We simply weren’t certain about the parlor paint color.”
Audrey nodded. “Oh, of course. The paint. Yes. It’s lovely, Mama. Give it a few hours for the smell to fade and you should go look. It is a vast improvement and I think we shall be very happy in that room.”
Lady Woodley smiled, as Audrey had intended, but the questions lingered in her eyes. “What is wrong?”
Audrey got to her feet and moved away from the too-seeing stare of Lady Woodley. She could not tell her. She couldn’t.
“Darling,” her mother continued when Audrey didn’t respond. “You have been odd as of late. I hoped you would feel better here because I know this is a place filled with joyful memories for you.”
“It is,” Audrey agreed, and mentally added her stolen moment with Jude to them.
“Perhaps, but in the past two days since our arrival I feel as though the tension in you has only increased. Why? Is it only the husband hunt?”
Audrey’s lips parted. She hadn’t meant to worry her mother. That was never what she wanted to do. But now her chest hurt as she stared at her and she found herself whispering, “Some of it.”
“But there is more,” her mother pressed.
She nodded. “I—don’t you think that passion can destroy everything?” she blurted out, then slapped a hand over her lips. Oh, she had to cover up the truth now, so she quickly added. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Claire lately and that is the question that haunts my mind.”
The dowager’s eyes grew wide. “That is certainly not the question I expected. Though perhaps I should have, given the circumstances.” She pushed herself up further on her pillows, a pensive expression on her face. “With Edward’s recent marriage, the past weighs on all our minds.”
Audrey almost collapsed in relief. “Yes, of course.” So she could discuss this without revealing herself.
“I hate to think that you feel so bitterly toward the idea of deep feeling and connection, though,” her mother continued. “After all, not everyone in our family has been damaged by love. Look at Edward and Mary.”
Audrey pursed her lips. “You are right that Edward and Mary seem to have found happiness in passion and love, but look at Claire. Look at Edward when he was with Alice. Even look at yourself.”
Lady Woodley’s gaze grew sharp. “What does that mean?”
Audrey drew back a fraction at the sudden tone to her mother’s voice. “Well, you loved Papa and I know you still hurt terribly at his loss.”
The dowager’s expression softened. “Yes. That is true. And desire, when not tempered with some kind of control and limit, can be destructive. It can be wielded as a weapon in the wrong hands. But so can many things. You cannot judge love or any of the feelings that come with it by only the bad outcomes.”
Audrey shifted. That was very similar to the advice Jude had given her earlier in the day. Now she felt so confused, it was hard to think straight.
“It’s hard not to do what you caution against,” she whispered.
Her mother blushed. “Well, until you have experienced love or passion, perhaps you cannot be the right judge of their consequences, my dear. I urge you not to block out your future, not to put yourself in such a state that you can’t see it clearly, just because of something that might hurt you.”
Audrey moved to her mother’s window and stared out. Lady Woodley had a beautiful view of the grounds from here and there in the distance was that tree. That tree where Jude had challenged her fears.
Now she was beginning to wonder if that could be a good thing. After all, part of her hesitation a
bout marrying had to do with her panic about desire. If she faced that fear head on…could it set her free?
Or was she just looking for excuses to seek out Jude and ask for more?
Whatever the motivation, the only chance she would have to do it was now. With her mother abed and the staff distracted by the renovation and their presence, Audrey had freedom she would never encounter in London. And an isolation that Jude couldn’t avoid, as he would be able to do once they were surrounded by other people, once they were back in the city where he could hide behind her brother.
She turned and smiled at her mother, even though her insides were quaking. “You should rest, Mama,” she said, and leaned in for another brief kiss. “I will bring my supper up here tonight and we can share a meal.”
Her mother yawned and slid lower in her bed. “I would like that, darling. And Audrey?”
Audrey stopped at the door and faced her. “Yes?”
“Think about what I’ve said.”
Audrey nodded and slipped from the room. But as she made her way to her own chamber, she smiled again. She was going to think of nothing else but the potential plan she had begun to hatch.
Chapter Seven
The small cottage that came as part of his job as man of affairs was not far from the main house, but in the gathering night it seemed miles away. Jude sat outside in the courtyard, looking up the hill as darkness devoured the manse, making it only a shadow dotted with lights from the windows. He needed the extra distance ever since he touched Audrey.
He took a puff of his cigar and pondered those fleeting, passionate moments. Perhaps it wasn’t a surprise that he’d done it. After all, he had desired Audrey, cared for her, for as long as he’d known her. He had tried so hard to ignore those feelings, squash them, pretend they didn’t exist, but nothing had ever eased the ache he felt when he looked at her.
Maybe it was inevitable that one day he would slip and his desire would explode into unforgivable action. But that didn’t change the fact that he had done it and nothing would ever be the same. He knew what her face looked like when she found pleasure. Nothing ever could be the same.
On the path that led from the main house, there was a bob of a lantern, and Jude straightened up. Someone was coming for him. Oh, it could be a footman bringing down the supper he had avoided once more. Or it could be a servant asking him to come up and speak to Lady Woodley.
But from the way the lantern swung, he doubted those things. Anticipation began to spread through his chest and settle in far less comfortable places as he watched the light move closer and closer until it was finally close enough that, when the lantern was lifted, he could see the face of his visitor.
And of course it was Audrey. No one else but Audrey with the light dancing across her cheek and making her look like a moon goddess. But from the way she stopped a long step from his door, she didn’t see him sitting in the dark.
She took a few long breaths and she was muttering to herself, but he couldn’t understand her words. And now he had to make a decision. He could say nothing and allow her to knock on his door. When he didn’t answer, she would eventually go away and he could put off whatever confrontation she planned. Perhaps she would even think better of whatever had driven her here to his cottage.
Or he could stand up and have yet another stolen moment with her.
There was only one option, really.
He pushed to his feet and tossed the cigar into the dirt. “What do you want, Audrey?”
She jumped at his question and pivoted to face him. The light hit her just right and he saw how wide her eyes were, how breathless she was.
“Oh, you gave me a fright!” she gasped, lifting a hand to her chest as if she could settle her heart with a touch.
He followed the movement and groaned at the sight of her gorgeous breasts beneath her pretty supper gown. He couldn’t tell the color in the dark, but he could see how perfectly molded to her body it was. Women’s fashions presently seemed to be designed as torture devices.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked as she set the lantern down on the table beside the chair where he had been brooding.
“Sitting,” he said, hating how brusque he sounded, but not trusting himself to offer anything friendlier. Not when his body was so damned on edge around her. “What do you want?”
She frowned at his repeated question and for a moment she cast her glance back up to the house. There was part of him that hoped she would follow her instinct and bolt away. The other part, the stronger part, prayed she would stay with him a moment longer. Let him breathe in her scent until he could think of nothing else, even though that was so dangerous.
“I-I thought we should discuss what happened between us this afternoon,” she finally said.
He arched a brow at her directness. But then, he had come to expect and appreciate that quality with Audrey. So many people, himself included, lied too easily. She never had.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss it,” he said. “You should forget it. We should pretend it never happened.”
She shook her head. “No, no, I don’t think that will be possible for me. I feel like I was sleeping and you…you woke me up. Now I can’t just go back to sleep like a child.”
He swallowed hard. “There are times when it’s better to sleep, Audrey. To stay away from reality.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.” She sighed and sat down in one of his chairs, and he gritted his teeth. So she intended to stay.
He eased back into his own place and folded his arms. “You are the expert, then?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t pretend to be. But I have been thinking about both what you said to me before we…we…” She stopped and he could see the darkness of the blush on her cheeks even in the half-light. “Well, I also spoke to my mother.”
He straightened up. “About what we did?”
“No!” she gasped. “Great God, of course not.”
He relaxed. “Good. Not that I would blame you, I suppose, for telling her I’d taken advantage. Perhaps that would be best, after all.”
“Oh, will you stop that. I allowed your kiss, I initiated a kiss, I never stopped you when you touched me. In fact, I liked it.”
He shut his eyes with another groan. “I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
“Why?” she whispered.
He clenched his fists in his lap. “Because it makes this very difficult for me.”
She was quiet for a long moment, but when she spoke her voice had renewed strength to it. “Jude, I don’t want to be afraid of what I feel anymore. Or what I want. My mother said to me this afternoon that I shouldn’t fear what I haven’t experienced. And she’s right. I trust you.”
He stared at her. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t you know?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Audrey, don’t.”
“I want to explore what we started in the garden today, Jude,” she said, standing up slowly. “If I do that with you, a man I trust, I man I—” She flushed. “A man I trust, then perhaps I will be able to tear down the walls I’ve built that have kept me from the marriage my family wants for me, the future I’ve kept at bay.”
His head spun, but he managed to stand as well. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I most certainly do. If I experience this, maybe I can let go of my fears. Maybe it will become something commonplace, not the huge terrifying beast in the closet.”
It was amazing the reaction her words sparked in him. She was offering herself to him and he wanted so badly to take that offer. But he was also angry with her for the way she couched her request. He was merely a body to her. And he wanted so much more.
“And what about me?” he snapped.
She blinked at him. “I—what do you mean?”
He moved on her, unable to control his words just as he hadn’t been able to control his body earlier. “Don’t you understand, Audrey? I want to claim you. I want to
take you. I want to introduce you to everything wicked and wanton. What we would do would change you at your core. And since you have brought up that proper marriage, when I’m finished with you, I’m certain your husband would know you weren’t untouched.”
She stared up at him with wide eyes, apparently terrified into silence. Good. He wanted that. If she was scared off by his ardor, it was better for them both.
She stepped toward him slowly, invaded his space. He felt her warmth and sucked in the sweet, peachy scent of her skin. It was heaven and hell all at once.
“I won’t be the first bride to enter a marriage only pretending to be untouched,” she murmured.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “You don’t know what you are saying. You can’t want this.”
“Have I not made it clear?” she whispered. “What you describe is exactly what I want. I want to feel what you offer, Jude. And purge these desires.”
He shook his head. “And what if I can’t?”
“Can’t what?” she asked.
“Purge you,” he snapped, just barely resisting the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her until she understood his desperation. “Because I’ve been trying and utterly failing to do that since you were seventeen.”
* * *
Audrey was taken aback by the power of Jude’s emotions. Normally he kept himself in check, never reacting or overreacting to any circumstance. But now she saw his anger, his frustration, but also his need, like a deep well of desire she feared she might drown in.
He had said something similar in the garden the day before, that he’d wanted her for years. But the simple act of wanting her, desire he had probably felt for a great many women over the years, felt very different from this desperate declaration.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He careened away from her with an angry snort of breath. “Are you really so obtuse, Audrey? So blind to the fact that I have wanted you from the first moment I saw you? That I have spent the intervening years trying to pound it out by staying away from you? By tupping other women while I pictured your face? That with every moment I shared with you as your friend that I burned?” He pivoted back and rushed up on her like a bull, but stopped short of touching her. “I burn for you, Audrey. Every fucking moment of every damned day.”
My Favorite Rogue: 8 Wicked, Witty, and Swoon-worthy Heroes Page 112