Rufus stood with his hands fisted at his sides, his face red from either temper or the effort of climbing the stairs and traversing the long west wing of the house—no doubt a rare occurrence.
“Good God, don’t tell me you couldn’t hear me,” he roared.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Elisa sat up against the headboard. “I did not hear you until just this moment,” she lied, knowing full well he expected her to come running.
He shut the door and walked towards the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.
A shiver ran down her spine when the mattress dipped beneath his weight and he sat down beside her.
She could smell whiskey on his breath. Had he brooded all day yesterday and this morning, building his temper?
He smiled a little and lifted a hand to her chin. The small gesture surprised her, and made her heart skip a beat as she realized the existence of another awful possibility. Please God, no, she said in silent prayer. Surely he did not want to consummate their relationship before the wedding? Now was not the time, so soon before the marriage, and particularly in the light of day.
“You’ve dark smudges beneath your eyes again. You didn’t sleep well?” His expression was the picture of concern, yet she knew better. He was quizzing her.
“Actually I slept very well. I suppose my age is beginning to show.”
This statement seemed to please him for he smiled. “Well, it’s time for you to wake. I have plans for us today.”
Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. She’d hoped to stay home…to spend time with Vaughn.
“What kind of plans?” she asked warily. Was he not going to chastise her for yesterday?
He merely shook his head. “It is a surprise, my dear.” And he remained steadfastly silent on the subject as he ordered her to get dressed in clothing appropriate for market day.
Accordingly, she called for Marianne and had her select a worsted wool traveling gown in dull brown, for the rain still fell in silent drips. She started to strip her bed gown off, then stopped, realizing Rufus was still there watching her intently.
She nodded toward the door and with a slight smile, he left the room with a comment about seeing to the carriage.
When she was dressed, she made her way slowly downstairs, wrapping a shawl about her shoulders. She hoped that Vaughn might appear, but only Rufus stood impatiently in the foyer, awaiting her.
Reluctantly, she let him lead her to the carriage waiting in the drive.
The surprise was an extravagant shopping expedition in the nearby town of Gillian. The cobblestone streets were filled with men and women marketing their wares, and lined on both sides were stores with quaint storefronts that beckoned one to come inside. Elisa found it ironic that Rufus chose the most elaborate carriage he owned to visit such a township whose clientele most likely boasted farmers, smithies and other artisans.
Rufus told the footman to stop at one such store, with a big window displaying bolts of cloth, draped artistically. “I’ve decided you need some new gowns,” Rufus said in explanation as he motioned her into the store.
They were immediately greeted by the proprietress, a buxom woman with dark hair streaked with gray and an adoring smile. Although Elisa had never met her before, the woman seemed to know exactly who they were. Rufus introduced her to Elisa as Miss Johnson.
She was puzzled. Rufus told her if she was in need of gowns, he would simply call in Mrs. Roland Gadfrey, an elderly woman who worked only for a few select clients in the district. What were they doing in this retail establishment? Why had Rufus not sent for the proprietress to come to them?
She was ready to question Rufus, but decided not to. He was already sitting in a chair, his hands propped over his cane, waiting for Miss Johnson to begin.
Miss Johnson went into raptures over Elisa’s tiny waist and perfect hourglass figure. “It is a pleasure working with such a perfect model,” she assured her. She took a step back, her lips pursed together. “I have a gown that would suit Madam perfectly. The gracious lady who ordered it changed her mind regarding the color, which is understandable, as the lady in question is a brunette, and such a color would have been less than flattering.” Miss Johnson smiled widely. “But for Madam, it is just the thing.”
As she chattered, Miss Johnson pulled away tissue paper from a box and held up a deep purple day-dress, with white lace at the collar and sleeves, and shining gilt metal buttons on the bodice. The dress was spread across the counter for her inspection. The skirt was very full, obviously designed for many petticoats. The hem was a rich, box-pleated ruffle with a tiny row of lace at the top and small ribbon roses at every six inches, in a pretty pale green.
Elisa felt her breath catch. It had been so long since she had seen any new fashions. She studied the details, tallying what had changed, what was new...and, oh, the dress was so pretty!
“It pleases, madam?”
“It pleases,” Elisa murmured, reaching out to touch the dully, glowing fabric.
With a satisfied smile, Miss Johnson shepherded her off to a private room where she could try the dress on.
Two hours later Elisa walked out the door on the arm of her fiancée, wearing the purple gown. They had only had to take the waist in by two inches.
Elisa had chosen bolts of cloth and accessories to match and discussed styling details for five more gowns, which Miss Johnson had promised delivery of by the end of the month.
Taking her seat opposite Rufus, Elisa smiled at him. “Thank you. The dresses are lovely.”
“Nothing is too good for my princess,” he replied, his smile warm, yet it did not seem to reach his eyes.
Uncomfortable with his stare, she turned toward the window. “It is a lovely little town. Why is it we have never visited before today?”
“I thought it was time to get away from the manor. Vaughn is putting me on edge. I only hope that he bores easily and will soon be gone.” The words were sharp, and he watched her intently, as though gauging her reaction.
“What has he done to make you so uneasy?” she asked.
Rufus lifted a brow. “He seems to have taken a liking to you.”
Elisa’s stomach tightened and she managed what she hoped appeared to be an amused smile. “And you do not wish for your son to like me?”
“The boy can go to hell as far as I am concerned.” There was no misinterpreting the violent hatred he felt toward Vaughn.
“Why do you dislike him so?” The question was pushed out of her in reaction to the naked hatred on his face. She realized it was the first time she had ever asked him such an intimate question.
Rufus’ mouth turned down as if he had tasted sour milk. “His mother pampered the boy. I told her she would spoil him and she did. Though he is full grown, I can still see her damned influence.”
The words held so much venom, Elisa wondered if it was directed more at Vaughn or his mother.
“Perhaps you could try to get along?” she suggested.
“Perhaps he can leave.” Rufus turned his head to look out the window, as if the conversation was of no interest to him.
Elisa shifted in her seat. “What if you were to mend your relationship?”
“There is nothing to mend. We’ve never had a relationship and I have no intention of beginning one. I grow tired of this conversation, Elisa. I have indulged you enough on the subject.” And he turned back to staring out the window, a tick jumping at the corner of his eye.
Elisa’s heart ached for Vaughn. As a child, he must have yearned for this man’s love and been utterly rejected. Without a mother, he would have been completely alone. Elisa understood what that sort of loneliness was like.
No wonder Vaughn’s hatred for Rufus was so immense.
* * * * *
Vaughn stood at the parlor window, watching as the carriage carrying his father and Elisa rolled up the long drive. They had been gone for the majority of the day and now with evening upon them, he would have only a few hours with Elisa.
The house had been like a tomb without her presence. Everything about it felt different, smelled different.
What would his father do if she were to go from this place forever?
Vaughn smiled to himself, envisioning the old man going slowly insane.
He let the curtain fall back into place and took a seat at the piano. His fingers lightly touched the keys in a lullaby his mother had taught him when he was three. He’d sat on her lap, watching her long, delicate fingers as they pressed the ebony and ivory. Her laughter had been light and airy, filling the vast room, making it feel smaller, warmer and comfortable.
The front door opened, then closed. Vaughn’s fingers froze on the keys.
“Marianne,” Rufus’ voice vibrated through the thick door. “Your mistress has some items she wishes to be put away at once.”
“Yes, my lord. Right away,” Marianne said, the patter of her feet on the marble echoing as she ran to do his bidding.
Vaughn saw the fear in her eyes as she turned away, the same fear that was there whenever Rufus dealt with her directly. Because she was Elisa’s maid, her contact with the man was minimal. However, in his short stay here Vaughn had noticed the majority of the servants lived in fear of the old man, all but scrambling to get out of his way. He had been too young to recognize it when he had lived here as a child.
Why would anyone in their right mind work for Rufus Wardell? Certainly there were other positions available in the district—even with a prominent family, one that would not abuse their servants.
“Joshua, get me a port,” Rufus yelled. A moment later Vaughn heard his father begin his creaking ascent up the staircase. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Yes, of course,” Elisa replied politely, from right outside the parlor door.
Vaughn smiled as he went to the door. He counted to ten, then opened the door to find Elisa standing five feet away, watching Rufus as he took the final step. Though he knew she saw him, she didn’t look in his direction.
Until Rufus had rounded the corner.
“Come here,” Vaughn said, holding his hand out to her.
She looked glorious, in a dark purple gown that in contrast made her eyes the dazzling blue of a hot summer sky. She looked at his outstretched hand as though he were a leper.
“What are you afraid of?”
The sides of her mouth lifted in a soft smile. “You.”
He took a step forward, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room. Closing the door behind them, he pressed her up against the hard wood. “I’ve thought of you all day. I wanted to spend the entire day at your side, but instead I’ve stood here looking out the window, watching and waiting for your return.”
Her eyes searched his face, and he wished he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Rufus believes that you like me.”
“Then he would be right.”
She took a deep breath and released it. “Vaughn, I can’t keep doing this. He knows that something is happening between us. It’s entirely wrong. We both know it.”
He laughed under his breath and she looked up, her brows furrowed into a frown. “What is so funny?”
“You are.” He reached his hand behind her and cupped her bottom through the layers of skirt and petticoat. He pulled her forward until her hips were against him. “I remember this being pressed against me and the look in your eyes as you did it. I remember the delicious sound that emerged from you when I took your breast in my mouth.”
He heard the tiny sigh she gave as his words prompted her own memory.
“You want more than that. You know it. So do I. Say it, Elisa. You want more.”
She shook her head. “No.”
He smiled, amused. “Yes, you do. Let me show you.” He leaned down, more than happy for an excuse to kiss her. He put his hands on either side of her head, preventing her escape and took her mouth with his.
Her lips were hot, moist, and sweet against his own. The full lips parted a little, and he took the tiny offering, plunging his tongue into her mouth. She was pliant against him and as always, soft, delicate and womanly with a sweet scent and skin that seemed to melt at his touch.
How could Rufus ignore such a delectable pleasure sitting at his right elbow every night? If she were his wife he would never leave her alone. He would spend all his spare time exploring her delicate beauty.
He could feel the taut thrumming in his loins that bespoke a powerful need. He had deliberately held himself away from other sensual activities while pursuing Elisa. In fact, solitary and commercial acts paled to insignificance when he considered what he might be doing with Elisa. The desire throbbing within him combined with his deliberate abstinence made him all the more anxious to secure her surrender.
The need burned in him.
He pulled her away from the door and into his arms, smothering her face with heavy kisses. “Tell me you want more,” he said into her ear, watching the frantic beat of her heart echo in the pulse just below his lips.
She shook her head, mute.
Damn, but he would have her agreement on this! He reached down to flip up the hem of her dress and slide a hand beneath all the petticoats. He ran his palm over silk stocking, then higher, to the edges of pantalets. He could feel the curve of her thigh underneath, then her round buttock. Experience guiding his hand, he reached around to the front of her waist and tugged the drawstring loose.
“Vaughn,” she whispered. “No…” But the protest was a sigh breathed into the air as his hand loosened the drawers and slid inside. He felt the flat plane of her stomach and the rounded angle of her hipbone. He slid further down, feeling the light tangle of body hair beneath his palm and pressed against her mons, the fingers probing at her cleft.
She gasped hard. But she did not try to pull away from him.
He looked into her nearly closed eyes and saw hungry torment there. Slowly, he slipped his hand further down, around the delicate mound and inside the folds of flesh. He worked his fingers deep into her sex, feeling heated slickness. His heart was racing at this blatant sign of Elisa’s responsiveness. He probed deeper and muscles clenched around his fingers. Her flesh pulsed.
Eliza groaned and her hand, gripping his shirt, clenched in a tight spasm. Her eyes shut.
He withdrew his hand enough to stroke her clit and was rewarded with the parting of her mouth and a trembling that wracked her entire body.
Vaughn heard harsh breathing and realized it was he making that barely controlled sound. He was excited almost beyond endurance by simply pleasuring her.
Regretfully, he drew still.
Her eyes fluttered open a little.
“Tell me you want more,” he murmured, his voice as rough as his breathing.
She swallowed and a furrow appeared between her brows. “I want more,” she said, her voice low. And she turned her head away, as if she was shamed for saying so.
The turning of her head took the glow from his victory.
Gently, he withdrew his hand, righted her garments and stepped away.
She kept her head averted.
He spoke, his voice still betraying his own exorbitant response. “You cannot tell me ‘more’ one day, then tell me it is wrong the next, Elisa.”
She lifted her chin a notch. Her eyes sparkled beneath dark lashes. “I am flattered that you find me…desirable, yet it is folly to keep doing this. Your father suspects something going on and he would be right. I have not behaved like a married woman should.”
“You’re not married, yet.”
She frowned at him.
“He buys you a pretty dress, so now you’re happy?”
She gasped and a second later her palm hit his cheek.
The shock of it was more of a jolt than the actual strike.
“How dare you,” she said, her voice a bodiless, intense hiss.
She quickly left the room, not bothering to shut the door behind her.
* * * * *
As the clock struck quarter
past eight, Elisa looked across the table at the empty chair. Vaughn was late and of course Rufus had made no move to delay the meal and wait for him.
Since she and Rufus had spent the afternoon together, they had very little to talk about. Instead she made comments on the flower arrangement and complimented the chef on his superb turtle soup. Thankfully, Rufus seemed to be more interested in his meal and claret than conversation. He tackled his plate with gusto when the main course was served, while she pushed the ham, potato and carrots about on her plate.
She wondered where Vaughn was. Surely he had not left the manor? Her heart lurched at the thought. What if he’d returned to London?
Her fears were laid to rest a moment later when the double doors opened and Vaughn strode into the room, running his hand through his hair and tousling it agreeably. “Sorry I am late. I received correspondence from London and found myself entranced with the gossip.”
Elisa wondered if any of the correspondence had been from a female. She pushed back the jealousy that quickly rose to the surface. There was a whole other side to Vaughn she had almost forgotten. His life in London must be an exciting one, full of gossip, parties and glittering people.
What did he see in her that made him pursue her so ardently?
Or was it that she was at hand, while other genuine beauties were far away in old London town?
Vaughn sat down, just as the butler slid a full meal in front of him. “Oh and I also received this invitation today.” He pulled a cream-colored envelope with a broken seal out of his inner pocket and offered it to Elisa. “It was addressed to me, but the invitation is extended to you and father as well.”
Rufus plucked the invitation from Elisa’s hand. He read it, frowning over the script. Rufus’ intellectual skills were not the strongest, but no one dared point out that weakness by offering to read his correspondence for him.
Elisa looked at Vaughn to see if he was offended by Rufus taking the invitation away from her, but Vaughn was eating, apparently unconcerned.
“Lady Munroe has invited us to a soiree,” Rufus told her. “You’ll have to write an acceptance on our behalf.”
Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) Page 10