Desire n-3

by Nicole Jordan

  “It usually works,” Dare said softly.

  Lucian shook his head. “I’m not in the market for a mistress. Nor do I intend to supply the gossips with more fodder for scandal. My marriage is the talk of the ton as it is.”

  Leaning a hip against the railing, Dare stared out into the dark garden. “Well, I certainly am no expert on matrimony. Only once in my life did I ever consider becoming leg-shackled.”

  Surprised by the admission, Lucian sent his friend a sharp glance. “I never knew you contemplated marriage.”

  Dare shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and I’ve done my damnedest to forget it.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was foolish enough to think myself in love. I went so far as to propose before discovering my mistake.” His tone hardened. “My innocent young betrothed wasn’t quite as pure as I thought her.” Dare gave a brusque shake of his head and flashed his charming grin, as if dismissing his dark thoughts.“But I’ve had some small amount of experience with women,” he added with his customary wry humor. “I think I might be qualified to advise you in winning over a lady.”

  Lucian had to smile at this understatement. Dare could melt stone if he wished to. “All right then, what do you advise? I am all ears.”

  “You could start by showing your bride more consideration. From what I hear, you’ve been a touch high-handed with her. Dragging her into a whirlwind union so you could get an heir upon her, then disappearing and leaving it to your servants to transport her to London, where she had to face society’s wolves alone. Rather arrogant of you to believe she might welcome such treatment, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of arrogance.”

  “Even so, you should never have left her so soon after the wedding, Luce. Not at all chivalrous of you. Or astute. Neglecting your new lady is no way to win her heart.” Dare paused. “Are you interested in winning her heart?” he asked curiously. “Or in giving yours?”

  It was odd to hear Dare North, London’s most notorious bachelor, speaking of love, Lucian reflected. His own feelings about the subject were nebulous. He had never loved any of the soft, willing beauties who’d shared his bed, but he envied other men who had managed the feat. He’d recently seen his American cousin Nick Sabine fall deeply in love. And his friend Damien Sinclair was madly enamored of his wife…

  Lucian grimaced. Falling in love with Brynn would be the height of lunacy. He’d been smitten since he first set eyes on her seductive beauty, and his condition had only grown worse with time. When she was near, the passion he felt for her was never far beneath his surface-

  He muttered a low oath. The emerald-eyed siren had quite bewitched him, tied him in knots. He wasn’t even certain he could trust her. For all he knew, Brynn could be mired knee-deep in treason with her brother. It would be dangerous to risk giving her even more power over him. And yet the idea of ending the strain in their marriage… of truly winning her… had a definite appeal.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he finally answered. “Love was never part of my plan. I only wanted a son.”

  “Perhaps your plan was too logical. Too calculating. The heart doesn’t follow logic.” Quite suddenly Dare made a scoffing sound in his throat. “What the devil-listen to me waxing poetic. I must be growing maudlin in my waning years.”

  “Ah, yes, you’re quite ancient,” Luce said with an edge of sarcasm. “You’re a year older than I, Dare. You’ll have us in invalid chairs before the night is through.”

  His friend eyed him steadily. “No need to take your foul temper out on me.”

  “Just so. My pardon.”

  Dare slapped him lightly on the back. “Forgiven.” Then he turned and lazily rested his elbows on the railing. “One thing I do know,” he added with more seriousness. “If you neglect your wife, others are bound to step in.”

  “Others already have stepped in,” Lucian responded, his tone turning dark again. “That is a large part of the problem, or hadn’t you noticed?” He took a long swallow of brandy. “Fools losing their heads over her all because of a curse.”

  “Curse?”

  “My wife claims to be cursed, didn’t I tell you? Men lust after her because a damned Gypsy put a hex on one of her ancestresses. She even haunts their dreams.”

  “How intriguing,” Dare said, grinning.

  “It’s not the least intriguing if you’re the poor sap in danger of being cuckolded.”

  “Is that what troubles you?”

  Lucian hardened his jaw. “Brynn claims I needn’t worry on that score.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “Oddly enough, I think I do. In Cornwall she went to great lengths to avoid provoking male interest, even mine. Especially mine, in fact. When she first came to London, I thought she might be encouraging her admirers out of revenge, to repay me for the way I treated her, but I no longer think her provocation was deliberate. She was undoubtedly virginal when I first took her.”

  There was a long pause while Dare considered that. “‘A virtuous woman is a prize beyond rubies,”“ he quoted softly.

  “Perhaps so, but it’s damned uncomfortable, having a wife every man jack sees as a prize.”

  “Well then, perhaps you should enter the lists. Join the competition for her favors.”

  “What are you suggesting? That I challenge those witless young whelps to a duel?”

  “Not at all. Why don’t you simply try your hand at seducing her? Use that vaunted charm of yours. The best way to conquer a woman is to woo her. I’ll wager you haven’t seriously tried that approach.”

  “Not seriously. Not since we wed.”

  “You should have. I own myself astonished, Luce. You never properly court your bride and then you essentially abandon her? Any female with an ounce of pride would be put out by such conduct. Can you blame her if she isn’t content with her lot?”

  No, he couldn’t blame her, Lucian admitted. He had made numerous mistakes with Brynn from the first, violating his normal sense of fair play with a vengeance. He had demanded her submission, then deliberately treated her coldly, too worried about himself and fighting his obsession to show her the consideration she deserved. He’d been possessive and jealous, and when her admirers fought over her, he’d reacted like an outraged husband, accusing her of playing the wanton, which had only wounded her and roused her resentment further. He’d harbored suspicions about her possible involvement in treason without any real proof…

  His behavior indeed was inexcusable, Lucian admitted.

  “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’ve made a shambles of it.”

  It was Dare’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t mean to accept failure so readily- legendary lover that you’re reputed to be? I doubt it’s too late for you to repair the damage, in any case.”

  Was he too late? Lucian wondered. Their marriage had begun shakily and plunged in a downward spiral with each icy clash. He had welcomed Brynn’s resentment, indeed purposely cultivated it, deliberately destroying any chance for warmer relations in their marriage. He regretted that the most, the coldness between them.

  Yet he wasn’t totally powerless when it came to changing the current state. He had a measure of physical control over Brynn. He knew how to command her passion, how to make her body respond with desperate hunger… But he wanted more than that. He wanted her willing and eager in his arms. He wanted peace between them, and trust, perhaps even friendship. He wanted to know her better, her thoughts, what she felt. He wanted to be able to share his thoughts, his feelings, his hopes and fears…

  “No woman has ever resisted you for long,” Dare observed, watching him closely.

  “I can see you don’t know my wife very well,” Lucian said almost with wistfulness.

  “Perhaps not, but I certainly know women. I suggest you take yourself home and devote yourself to your bride. Spend some time with her. Take her off to the country, perhaps. With all the distractions y
ou’ve faced pursuing traitors, you’ve had no chance to become intimate or put your powers of seduction to the test.”

  Lucian shook his head. “I can’t leave London just now.”

  “Why not? What is more important-saving England or ending this wretched misery you’ve let yourself wallow in? Besides, I don’t imagine you’ll be much good to your country until you settle this situation with your wife.”

  Dare had a point, Lucian realized, frowning. Until now, his country had always come first for him; duty was more important than personal desire. Yet for weeks now his conflicting feelings for Brynn had proven a relentless distraction, despite his vow to the contrary. He would do well to settle the strife between them before it rendered him totally ineffectual.

  Perhaps he should try a different approach with Brynn: wooing her.

  It would be difficult to win her over. She would likely spurn his advances after the way he’d acted, especially given her staunch belief in the Gypsy’s curse. Certainly he wouldn’t change her convictions overnight, yet he could take small steps that wouldn’t arouse her alarm or provoke her to tears…

  The vivid image of Brynn crying in his arms yesterday made Lucian wince. He wanted very much to dispel her fear that she was a witch. He wanted still more to end the coldness between them, to repair the tattered fabric of their relationship, perhaps establish a bond of trust. It was even possible they could have a marriage with mutual affection, if not love…

  Tilting his head back, Lucian drained the last of his brandy, not certain if embarking on a new course with Brynn was at all wise. Yet for the first time in the weeks of his contentious relationship with her, he felt a sense of eager anticipation.

  It startled Brynn when her husband joined her in the breakfast room the following morning. Usually Lucian had left for the day by the time she rose.

  She stared when he greeted her amiably, her cup of chocolate raised halfway to her lips. While she watched, Lucian filled a plate from the sideboard, accepted coffee from the hovering footman, and then dismissed the servant. He gave Brynn a brief smile before settling back in his seat and opening one of the morning papers that she wasn’t reading.

  She found herself at a total loss.

  He’d arrived home late last night, she knew, for she’d lain in her lonely bed tossing and turning, listening for him. But he hadn’t visited her bed. Most likely it was because he had found other pleasures to occupy him. Absurdly it hurt to think of Lucian in the arms of another woman-

  Forcing those foolish thoughts away, Brynn made herself chew her suddenly dry toast and concentrate on the editorial before her.

  Silence reigned for a time. Eventually Lucian closed his paper and applied himself to his breakfast. Brynn nearly jumped when he addressed her moments later.

  “You aren’t wearing a riding habit. You don’t mean to ride this morning? ”

  He knew of her customary early morning rides in the park with Raven, Brynn supposed, but she was surprised he had noticed her attire.

  “No,” she answered carefully.

  “Why not?”

  She gave him a wary glance. “I never plan to go out again.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is safer.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “Isn’t that a rather drastic measure?”

  She tried to flash an arch smile but feared it merely came out bitter. “You were the one who insisted I keep away from the young bucks ‘panting after my skirts.” The only way I know how to accomplish that is to avoid them entirely.“

  “I expect you’ll find such confinement restrictive,” he said finally.

  “Certainly I will. It is lonely having to do without company, but I am accustomed to it. And remaining quietly at home here is better than being forced to rusticate at your country estate, where I know absolutely no one.”

  She felt his light gaze examining her face. “You needn’t do without company entirely. Do you enjoy Shakespeare?”

  Brynn eyed him warily. “Yes, why?”

  “I thought we might attend the theater this evening.”

  “We?”

  A smile flickered at his mouth. “I should like to escort you, if you will allow me.”

  “Why?”

  “I hoped you might accept it as an olive branch.”

  She considered that for a moment. “I can’t imagine why you would want to offer an olive branch.”

  “Because I don’t enjoy this constant state of antagonism between us, Brynn. I would like it to end. We cannot spend a lifetime like this, fighting each other.”

  She didn’t enjoy their antagonism, either, or the explosive results. The memory of their rash, brazen lovemaking in the carriage still haunted her. But keeping discord between them was the safest thing for Lucian.

  “I never wanted our marriage to become a battleground,” he said when she was silent, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “I regret that more than you know.”

  Brynn caught her breath, unable to look away from the unwavering intensity of his gaze. She wished his eyes were less compelling and not quite so blue.

  His voice lowered even further. “I know I haven’t been the most ideal husband, Brynn. I would like to try to make it up to you.”

  She couldn’t answer, not with the sudden tightness of her throat.

  Finally he gave a soft sigh. “Whatever our private disputes, I would prefer to present a more amiable image in public. It will help quiet the scandal for us to be seen together and pretend to enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Yes… I suppose that would help.”

  He rose then and came around to her side of the table. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips. “Until this evening, then.”

  Brynn shivered, feeling the tingle of his hot mouth all the way down her arm to her loins.

  She stared after Lucian long after he was gone. Finally she felt her breath escape in a sigh. She had her own regrets about their relationship; she yearned for an end to hostilities as Lucian claimed he did. Yet she didn’t dare lower her defenses.

  It worried her, this contrite, gentle side of him. If he were to begin treating her with tenderness and consideration, he would be impossible to resist.

  Brynn shook her head, desperately fighting the emotions he unleashed in her. How had her feelings for Lucian become so complicated? Their relationship would be so much safer if she could simply hate him. But she feared that was well beyond her power. It wasn’t hate Lucian woke in her, but hungry longing.

  As they entered their box at the Drury Lane Theatre, Lord and Lady Wycliff were the focus of all eyes. A sense of excitement claimed Brynn as Lucian took his seat beside her. It was a treat for her to attend a performance of skilled actors. The country troupes that toured southern Cornwall were the dregs of their profession, so watching actual masters was sure to be a delight.

  But it was Lucian himself who caused the involuntary lightness of her spirits. He had dined at home with her, playing the role of solicitous husband-a performance, she knew. Yet he acted as if he were truly enjoying her company instead of fighting his attraction to her. Clearly he was making an effort to begin anew.

  The change in him was profoundly appealing- and unquestionably dangerous. In return, Brynn did her best to maintain a cool demeanor and subdue her own appeal. She wore her fiery hair sedately tamed, while her ivory slip with its overskirt of silver tissue was modestly cut for an evening gown. Yet she could tell by the sudden darkening of Lucian’s blue eyes that he admired the effect.

  He continued his exhibition of amiability when they reached the theater. The moment Lucian was settled beside her, he took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips to kiss, gazing deeply into her eyes, just as if he were in love. His amorous gesture was for the benefit of the audience, Brynn presumed, but the sheer intimacy of it made her soften inside…

  Abruptly she scolded herself for her susceptibility; Lucian well knew the power of his sensuality, and she would be wise to keep up her guard.

&nbs
p; They were barely seated when visitors started arriving at their box, wanting to be introduced to his lordship’s new lady. Lucian showed all the heart-melting charm and rakish wit that had so fascinated her when they’d first met, as well as a possessiveness that was as curiously gratifying as it was disturbing. He remained so close she could feel his body heat, his arm lightly draping her shoulder, as if staking his claim on her. And when they were left alone once more for the start of the play, he kept hold of her hand.

  Despite her resolve to keep him at a distance, to protect him with her indifference, Brynn found herself loath to pull away; his touch felt so right. All through the first act, her nerves were alive and acutely tuned to him.

  Almost as distracting were the whispered conversations in the neighboring boxes and from the pit below. Few in the audience were actually watching the stage but had turned their opera glasses on herself, suggesting their fascination with the woman who had claimed the elusive Lord Wycliff’s hand in marriage.

  Even with all the disturbances, however, Brynn found the performance riveting. When the first intermission came, she gave a sigh of delight.

  “Your eyes are fairly sparkling,” Lucian murmured in her ear. “I take it you approve of the performance.”

  “It’s marvelous,” Brynn said with heartfelt agreement. “Although I suppose I sound rather provincial to admit it.”

  A breathtaking, whimsical smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps. A pretense of ennui is certainly considered fashionable. But I think your candor refreshing.”

  “Thank you for bringing me here, Lucian,” she said sincerely.

  He bowed gallantly. “Your enjoyment is my pleasure.”

  “You don’t find the play enjoyable?”

  “Somewhat. But I’ve seen this performance a half dozen times. It isn’t difficult to become jaded on the entertainments London has to offer.”

  “I can’t imagine becoming so jaded that Shakespeare begins to pall. If that is the consequence of your wicked life, then I will gladly pass.”

  His lashes veiled his sapphire eyes, and Brynn could have bitten off her tongue. She hadn’t meant to spoil the moment by reminding him of their discord.