Mercy, the pressure and heat building in her body threatened to devour her. She’d never experienced something so intense. Another minute and she would lose all control. Warnings chimed in her head; this was dangerous. Camden was dangerous. She dropped her arms from around him and stepped out of his embrace.
“We cannot do this again.” She averted her gaze, cheeks burning.
Resignation clouded his gaze. He released a sigh. “I’ll retrieve your mount.”
She focused on the shuffle of his retreating footsteps as she worked to bring her body under control. What had she been thinking yielding to him in such a way? She would not allow it to happen again. She had to protect her heart, and her virtue.
An absurd sadness settled on her, deep as any loss. With the way he affected her, there was no other choice. She’d have to take care to avoid him from this moment on.
CHAPTER SIX
Camden ran his hand over the old wood trunk’s intricate carvings. He should be well on his way home by now, not wandering around the dilapidated walls of Babylon mooning over a lady. He’d been at the castle for nearly a sennight. By now his family would be expecting him home. Yet…
He’d not seen Rebecca since the day he’d kissed her, but she never left his thoughts for long. The memory still scorched his lips and stirred his loins. She’d captured more than his interest, her hold on him undeniable. Now she avoided him like one did the plague. What was she afraid of? It had to be fear keeping her away. She’d felt the same desire to be near him, to touch him as he felt toward her. The evidence was plain in the way she’d wrapped her arms around him, pressed nearer to him, met his demands with her sweet mouth.
An astounding need to be near her drove him to her estate each day, but the lady never showed herself. Nor did she seek him out at Babylon Castle. He rubbed one hand across his chin, his chest tightening. She’d even refused to see him when he’d gone to tell her of the trunk.
His muscles still coiled at the memory of her refusal this morning. He’d spent a considerable amount of time searching nearly every crevice of the old castle, but he turned up nothing other than dust and grime. Not so much as a leather strap had been left behind over the centuries.
He’d been about to admit defeat when he’d happened upon the old carved trunk tucked into the corner of a lower-level storage room. His heart had skipped a beat as he’d stood staring at it.
How was the trunk intact after all this time? The oak trunk was at least four feet long, massive in size and far too heavy to move on his own. He’d left it there and gone to tell Rebecca about it, planning to gift the trunk to her. But after all of his effort, she had turned him away.
He glanced down at the trunk in front of him. Who left it here? Was there anything inside? He reached for the iron latch, but jerked his hand back. Rebecca should be the one to open the trunk’s lid. She was the whole reason he’d spent so much time searching the chambers of Babylon. A strange tug pulled at his chest when the image of her smile flooded his thoughts. If something were inside, he wanted to share the discovery with her. To be the one who made her smile. He’d left a note for her this morning telling her about the trunk, but as yet, she hadn’t replied.
Camden stood to make his way out to the bailey. By now she should have read his letter. He wanted to be out there when she arrived, if she did.
What if Rebecca refused to come even after learning of the trunk? His abdominal muscles tightened. She wouldn’t. She loved Babylon and its legends too much to turn her back on a piece of its history. His boot slipped on the last stair leading up to the second floor. He slammed into the rough stone wall with a grunt. His breaths came in quick gasps as he steadied himself, feet firmly planted on the staircase once more.
“Camden. My God, are you all right?” Rebecca rushed toward him, her sister close on her heels.
He glanced up at her, his heart warming at the concern reflected in her eyes. “I’m fine. I was just coming up to wait for you.”
Her cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. You gave me permission before… I…we should have waited outside.” She tossed a glance at her sister. Lady Phoebe only grinned.
“No, it’s quite alright. I did give you leave to enter at your will. I’ll not take it away from you now.”
Rebecca’s shoulders rounded ever so slightly and a bright smile lit her pretty face. “Thank you.”
He forced his attention away from Rebecca. “Lady Phoebe, a pleasure to see you again.” He swallowed his disappointment. She was a lovely lady but he’d wanted to be alone with Rebecca. It was the very reason he’d given his servant’s tasks to keep them away from the second-floor and storage areas below. How was he to speak plainly with her now?
Phoebe nodded. “Likewise. If you wouldn’t mind, Captain, I’d like to take a turn around the bailey while the two of you inspect the trunk you found.”
Rebecca placed her hand on Phoebe’s arm. “Do you not want to see its contents?”
Camden shot Phoebe a grin and a nod before settling his gaze back on Rebecca. “We can share what we find with her before the two of you take your leave.”
“I’d like that.” Phoebe stepped toward the large arched entry door. “I just see no appeal in wandering the keep when I could be taking in the fresh air out of doors.”
“No need to explain, Lady Phoebe. You are welcome to explore the outside all you wish.” Camden moved to the entry. He pulled the heavy wood door open. “Do be careful around the ruined outbuildings. I fear they are not at all stable.”
Phoebe stepped past him. “I will. Thank you.”
He closed the door, a spring in his step. If he had to guess, he’d say Lady Phoebe knew exactly what she was doing leaving Rebecca alone with him.
Clasping his hands behind his back to keep from pulling her to him, he turned to Rebecca. She stared at the closed door, cheeks still stained pink, eyes rounded. “It’s not a good idea for us to be alone.”
“Why ever not?” He captured her gaze and smirked.
“It’s not proper. We should have a chaperone.” She strode toward the door.
He snagged her arm. “What are you afraid of?” His fingers tingled where they touched her.
She notched her chin up. “I’m not afraid. I would simply like to avoid scandal.”
“In that case, let us go open the trunk.” He winked. “Your sister will safeguard your reputation.” Lady Phoebe did not make an appropriate chaperone, and he well knew it. If Rebecca were so concerned why had she not procured someone proper for the duty? He studied her while he awaited her reply.
She swallowed, her eyes fluttering closed for an instant. “Very well. Where is the trunk?”
He grinned. “Follow me. And watch your step.” He wanted to offer his arm, safeguard her as they made their way down the stairs, but he had no wish to frighten her. After all he went through to get her here, the last thing he wanted was to give her cause to leave.
He glanced back at her as he descended the stairs. She followed a few feet behind, her head bent and skirt clutched in one hand. He fought the urge to sweep her into his arms.
“We’re almost there.” Camden held the lantern in front of him as he turned the corner into the storage room.
The glow of his lantern illuminated the space. Rebecca moved past him to the trunk. “It’s beautiful.” When she looked up, her gaze was much softer than it had been a moment ago. “Do you think it belonged to Sir Kenton and Lady Nicola?”
Camden moved to stand beside her. “It appears old enough to have been theirs. The iron latches and style of the trunk look to be medieval.”
“Is there anything inside?” She bent and feathered her fingers over the heavy lid.
“I didn’t open it. I wanted you to be the one to do so.”
She met his gaze, eyes sparkling. “Me?”
“I can think of no one else who would experience greater joy in doing so.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You love Babylon, and
it was your idea to explore the keep in the first place. You’ve earned the right to open it.”
She crouched in front of the trunk. The latch creaked as she lifted it away from its iron fitting. She glanced back at him, through thick lashes.
He nodded, waiting for her to continue.
With both hands she pushed against the top of the trunk. The old iron hinges protested, the lid unmistakably rusted shut. He kneeled beside her, heat flaring in him when their shoulders rubbed together. “Maybe together we can get it to open?”
She placed her hands back on the old oak top. Camden did the same and both gave a huge heave. Inch by inch the lid creaked open until they let it fall all the way open. Rebecca gasped and looked up at him. “How is this possible?”
“I don’t pretend to know. It defies logic that such items could remain intact after so many centuries.”
She reached into the trunk, her hand hovering just above the contents. “It appears to be clothing, but there is something else here too.” She pointed at the far inside edge. “It looks like metal, silver maybe.”
“Perhaps it is chain mail.”
“These could be Lady Nicola and Sir Kenton’s garments.” Her eyes sparkled as she feathered her fingers over the red cloth inside. “This is amazing.”
“It belongs to you now.” His heart swelled at having been the one to give her such an incredible gift.
She beamed at him before wrapping her arms around him. “I shall treasure it always.”
He couldn’t help rubbing her back with one hand while fighting the urge to capture her lips with his. “I will speak with your father about having the trunk moved to your residence.”
She pulled back. “No. I wish for it to remain here. This is where it belongs, at least for now.” She turned to the trunk. “It has been here for hundreds of years. It seems wrong to move it.”
“Then it shall stay and you can visit it any time you wish. I will see the trunk moved to the second floor entrance hall, and there it will remain.”
“Thank you.” She lifted the deep red fabric using only her index finger to peak beneath it. “I fear it will crumble into dust if I attempt to handle it over much.” She nibbled at her lip. “Let us leave it for now.”
When she met his gaze, he surveyed her face. A lump formed in his throat at the warmth there. “Why have you been avoiding me? You say you are not afraid of anything but your actions betray you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “My actions? What of yours? Did you not steal a kiss from me? Are you not the same man who told me I should be afraid of you?” She stood and placed her hands on her hips.
“As I recall you kissed me back ardently.” He stepped closer until his chest pressed against her soft breasts. To her credit, she did not run. He smiled. “I am quite certain you enjoyed being kissed.”
A blush bloomed across her cheeks. “You’re mad.”
“The way I make you feel is what frightens you. You think by avoiding me you can make whatever is between us disappear.”
“There is noth—”
“Do not insult yourself by denying what lies between us. I see the truth in your eyes, feel it in your touch. You think of me often, long to feel my lips on yours again.”
“You are completely out of bounds. Do not presume to know my thoughts. I’d rather kiss a pig than you.” She turned her back to him but made no move to leave.
“Let us test your theory.” He spun her back to him and brought his lips down on hers.
For a moment she stood stock-still. His stomach rolled. Had she meant what she’d said? Did she feel nothing when they were together? Then her arms came around him and she tilted her head, giving him better access to the sweetness of her mouth.
He deepened the kiss, pulling her tight against him. His body heated, every nerve tingled, every fiber of his being cried out for her. He broke from her lips, trailing kisses across her cheek, down her neck, across her collarbone.
A soft moan trembled from her as she clung to him. He worked his way across the swell of her breasts, and she arched against him.
He wanted all of her, but not like this. Not in a storage room in the heat of their battle of wits. He wanted her to come to him willingly. She deserved more. He pulled back, his gaze trapping hers. “May I call on you tomorrow?”
She ran her tongue across her swollen lips. Her eyes lowered and her chest rose on a shaky breath. He could see the battle waging within her. Which would win out? Her desire or her fear.
Rebecca met his gaze and nodded. “If you wish.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rebecca paced across the parlor. What had she been thinking agreeing to let him call on her? There could never be anything between them. She’d not allow herself to wind up like Daphne, a widow with a baby after barely three seasons. Her heartbeat raced.
Then again, the war had come to an end. Perhaps she had no reason to fear a relationship with Camden. So long as there was no war, he could not die in battle. Besides, he’d not asked for her hand, only to call on her. She turned and stalked back across the room.
“Would you please cease that incessant pacing? You’re making me dizzy.” Phoebe sighed, placing her needlepoint on the mahogany table beside her. “You act like you are headed for the gallows.”
Rebecca stopped at the window. “I may well be.”
Phoebe arched one brow. “Don’t be so dramatic. Captain Le Bec is a perfectly respectable gentleman, and Mother arranged for you to be chaperoned.”
Rebecca peered out the window toward the long drive leading to her home. If Phoebe knew how disreputable Camden truly was, she would forbid the courtship herself. Rebecca touched her lips recalling the kisses she and Camden had shared. Her stomach fluttered. Would he kiss her again? She hoped he would. Her cheeks warmed, and she waved her fan in an attempt to cool them.
What madness possessed her? She belonged in Bedlam for having such a thought. Even more so for surrendering to him as she had. He could have carried her up to his bed and she would not have complained so long as he continued to kiss her. She was not safe with him. Not as long as her body betrayed her in such a way as it had. She turned back to Phoebe.
“I can’t go through with this. Tell him I have a headache, I’m going to my room.” She moved toward the parlor door.
Phoebe stood, her eyes rounded, jaw slackened “I will do no such thing.” She stepped into Rebecca’s path. “You agreed to spend time with him today and you shall. Now stop being a goose.”
“I’m not being a goose. I have legitimate reasons for not wanting to be around him.” She slapped her fan against her leg.
“Being a soldier is not a legitimate reason for refusing a courtship.” Phoebe placed her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Rowland would not have wished for you to behave in such a way. Our brother loved being a soldier and knew the risk he took.”
Rebecca’s eyes stung with unshed tears, and she blinked them away. “Sometimes I hate him for getting killed, and for leaving us and his sweet baby behind. Nothing is the same anymore. I miss him so much.” She sniffed. “I will not become like Daphne. My heart breaks anew every time I see her.”
“I understand, I swear I do. But it makes no difference who you marry. You can’t guarantee they will live as long as you do. People die young every day and war is seldom the culprit.” Phoebe patted Rebecca’s shoulder. “Just consider it. Allow yourself to get to know Captain Le Bec before you toss him aside.”
Feet shuffled and Rebecca turned to the door. Her butler stood in the entrance. A maid scurried past him taking up her station in the corner. Mother sent a maid to chaperone? Did she wish to see Rebecca compromised? Her stomach turned as she waited for him to speak.
“Captain Le Bec to see Lady Rebecca.” He gave a bow and departed.
Camden strolled in, offering one of those stunning smiles making Rebecca’s insides quiver. “Good day, Lady Phoebe. Lady Rebecca.”
Rebecca’s pulse thumped. Her mind screamed at her to make an excuse to
get away, but her legs refused to move. Camden wore his tan breeches again today with an elegant navy day coat and starched white cravat. His blue eyes shone in stark contrast to his dark hair. She had to admit he was the handsomest gentleman she’d ever seen. It only made him more dangerous.
“Good day to you as well, Captain Le Bec. If you will excuse me I was just on my way to answer some letters.”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at Phoebe. How could her sister run off knowing how badly she did not want to spend time alone with Camden? She’d done the very same thing at Babylon. Why did she seem so determined to push them together?
“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside, allowing Phoebe to sail past him and out of the room.
Rebecca watched her disappear through the door in a flurry of yellow skirts. The fluttering returned to her belly the moment she met Camden’s gaze. She rested a hand on her abdomen. “I’ll ring for refreshments. Please have a seat.”
He stepped closer to her. “I thought we might enjoy a stroll through the garden, but if you would rather stay inside I’m happy to.”
She swallowed hard, heat fanning through her like flames being stoked in the hearth. Fresh air might do her some good. She glanced out the window. At least she would not be sitting idle and uncomfortable. How did he unsettle her so? “A walk sounds lovely.”
He offered his arm. From the moment she slid her hand around his bicep, her body betrayed her. The heat raging inside her increased as he led her into the grand foyer. After she accepted her parasol from the butler, Camden donned his hat and led her outside. He looked even more dashing with that hat.
The day was warm but a cooling breeze danced around her. She opened her parasol, grateful for the shade it cast. Birdsong drifted from the distance. If only she too could spread her wings and fly away to safety. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure the maid followed at a respectable distance, if one could even consider a maid a respectable chaperone.
“Lady Chesterfield tells me there is to be a ball.” He guided her onto a path running along the garden’s edge. “Might I request the first dance?”
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