Despite making love five times, he still wanted her. And she could feel herself respond to his thoughts. Even though he had reassured her he accepted her passionate nature, welcomed it even, she wondered if her need of him did not constitute an obsession. Despite the hours that had just passed, she knew she wanted him again.
And what if he did not feel the same? What if he left for London as he had been threatening to do for a week? What if he became engaged to Natasha?
“I don’t want to go back,” she said, speaking before she could doubt the wisdom of such candor.
A small frown marred his forehead. “Then don’t,” he said.
“You know it isn’t that simple.” She dropped her hands from the row of buttons on her bodice.
“I know I hate the thought of him touching you. How could you entertain the idea, Elisa?”
“You know why.”
“I know the reason he gave you,” he muttered, standing abruptly and striding to the water.
“You hate him, don’t you?”
His answer took a moment. He glanced at her. “Do you think he’d be a good father to your son?”
She shrugged. “I would hope so.”
He laughed without mirth. “That man doesn’t know what compassion is. Not once did I ever receive a hug. Not even a pat on the head for any accomplishment. He has always hated me, hated everyone. . .except for my mother. And when she was gone, he had no use for me. You want that for your son, Elisa?”
She was silent, unable to form an answer. She had not considered her life beyond the moment when Rufus restored her son to her. She had been so focused upon finding Raymond and winning him back.
“I know Rufus is the only one who has given me any hope of finding Raymond,” she answered truthfully. “I cannot jeopardize that.” She glanced at the long shadows on the ground. “It’s late. I must return before he becomes suspicious.”
“He always wins, doesn’t he?” Vaughn growled. “I make love to you, but he wins because you’re running back to him.”
His words struck a chill in her heart. “What did you say?”
He was scowling at the water, occupied by his thoughts, but he must have heard her for he sighed and ruffled his hand through his hair. “He wins,” he said bitterly. “Although…” His frown smoothed itself a little. “It occurs to me that I have had my revenge upon him this afternoon, haven’t I?” And he looked at her with a twisted smile.
The breath left her in a rush. He had not seduced her because he was attracted to her at all! He had seduced her to revenge himself upon the father who had turned his back on him.
Hollow nausea gripped her throat and stomach. “You lied to me,” she whispered.
He turned then. Her voice must have given away her horror. “Lied?” he repeated.
She finished fastening the last of her buttons with hands that trembled violently.
“The men that sought me out because of my s-s-sensuality—they at least were direct. They did not have hidden motives.”
“Elisa, what on earth…?”
“You used me in a way they never did,” she spat. “Congratulations, Vaughn, you have truly turned me into a whore.”
She turned and ran, not caring that she left her hat or that Vaughn was yelling her name.
Chapter Fourteen
When she returned to the manor, Elisa was enormously thankful to learn Rufus was resting in his bedchamber. It saved her the complication of more lies. More importantly, she could avoid Rufus’ scrutiny before she had a chance to bathe and wash the sins of the day from her flesh. As it was, by the time she reached the cold marble hallway dinner was barely an hour away. She had little time to take a bath and dress.
Marianne was unusually quiet. No doubt her maid was disappointed in her for giving into temptation. Though Elisa had kept her silence about the afternoon, it was as though Marianne could read the imprint of every forbidden caress upon her face. The Frenchwoman poured water with a sad, repressed air that seemed almost sorrowful.
No one could be more sorry than Elisa herself. She had let herself down, broken faith with her personal vow to win her son back and worse still, wanted the man who’d used her so blatantly.
Damn Vaughn to hell with the rest of mankind!
As she dressed, she squirmed under the raw knowledge that Marianne had been right all along, that she had been a pawn in a man’s game and meant less than nothing to him personally. As a result, she found it impossible to make eye contact with Marianne. If she could not deal with Marianne directly, how could she possibly look at Rufus without giving herself away?
With a final look in the mirror, Elisa took a deep breath and headed downstairs, repeating hollow reassurances. Nothing had changed. No one could see anything if she did not speak of her guilt aloud. No one would know. No one would ever know. She would bury her foolishness and her guilt deeper than a corpse.
She would just behave as always.
Despite her funereal pace, the double doors of the dining room rushed to meet her. Inside, she could hear Rufus ordering a servant about, his voice booming. A chill raced down her spine.
How she hoped Vaughn would make excuses and not attend dinner! She knew he’d arrived home shortly after she did—she had heard the sound of servants heading for the opposite wing. They always did flock around him whenever he returned to the hall. They adored him and fussed over him and she could hear their conversation as Vaughn walked down the passageway, the light, bantering tone he used with them. She prayed he had the sense to stay in his room rather than show his face.
Her hand trembled as she pushed the dining room door open. Her heart sank to her toes when she saw Vaughn sitting in his usual spot, across from her seat at Rufus’s right. His glass was halfway to his lips and as she entered he set it down without taking a drink.
She quickly turned her head away and smiled at Rufus. Her lips trembled, so she pressed them together.
Tonight she had dressed in her most conservative gown, one with a high lace collar and modesty panel. It had seemed prudent at the time she’d chosen the gown. She realized now her guilty conscience had prodded her into covering her shame with a false modesty that would deflect any attention. Now she realized she had garnered attention instead by changing her style of dress too swiftly.
“Do you mean to tell me you’ve already worn all the gowns I bought for you last week?” Rufus asked as she sat down.
Folding her hands in her lap, she clenched them together, gathering control, before replying as steadily as she could. “I fell asleep and when I awoke it was late, so I donned the first item in my wardrobe.”
“I see.” He lifted a brow while motioning the footman to refill his glass. “Did you get my cigar?”
Her heart leapt a little. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot your request, my lord.”
He took a swallow of his port then set the glass down harder than necessary. “And did you forget your bonnet as well?” His voice was laced with sarcasm.
Though she schooled her features, she could feel heat rise up her neck and stain her cheeks. “Actually, I did. I apologize again. It is simply that I enjoyed my ride so much, I didn’t wish to stop in the village. I rode all the way to Caroline’s, instead, and called on her to thank her for her hospitality the other night.”
Vaughn’s silence was like a shout. He was not supporting her, not providing help in any way. She could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to look his way, for she knew one glance would be the undoing of all her courage. How could she make it through dinner without revealing her guilt in some way?
The footman moved forward, filling Vaughn’s glass to the brim. From the corner of her eye she watched Vaughn lift it to his lips and drain it.
“You’re thirsty this evening,” Rufus remarked, his attention neatly diverted from Elisa.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Vaughn replied, motioning the footman over again. “You may as well leave the bottle, my friend.”
The footman obli
ged, settling the craft to Vaughn’s right.
Rufus cackled. “What a lively group this is. You look terrible, boy.”
“I’ll consider that a compliment, coming from you.”
Rufus’ eyes narrowed. Elisa held her breath, knowing the fury to come.
Vaughn lifted a dark brow. “Come, father. Tell me the sins of drinking, since you have so much experience.”
The veins in Rufus’ head grew pronounced as he leaned forward and leveled his son with a glare that would make most men tremble in their boots.
Vaughn was completely unaffected.
Whatever Rufus had been about to say, Vaughn’s indifference changed his mind. He picked up the fork he had dropped. “Come morning, you will leave my home.”
A sharp pain lodged in her heart. Leave? Vaughn could not leave! She opened her mouth, a protest at the ready. Rufus’ order abruptly dislodged the afternoon’s betrayal from her mind, relegating it to a insubstantial memory. She rallied words to her defense, phrases that would mollify Rufus and make him retract his order.
Vaughn beat her to the deed, drawling, “Father, how can I properly court Miss Natasha from jolly old London?”
A slow smile spread across Rufus’ mouth. “So that is your interest in staying on at Fairleigh Hall.”
“What else could there be?” Vaughn returned, pouring himself another glassful of port. His casualness, the dismissal, stung the core of her soul. Indeed, what else could there be now he’d had his way with her? She had been a tool he had used and could now dismiss from his attention.
The shame of the afternoon surged in her anew and she clenched her fists. She had experienced unparalleled bliss in his arms and on the same day he spoke of courting another. She wished she could convince herself he did this merely to prolong his stay at Fairleigh Hall in order to be with her, but there was no conviction in the wish, for she knew the truth, now.
“You’ve asked William and Caroline for their permission to court their daughter?”
“Not yet,” Vaughn returned.
“Tomorrow, then,” Rufus said matter-of-factly, his good mood returning once more. “Morning tea would be the earliest appropriate moment.”
“Yes, that would be quite suitable,” Vaughn replied. “I find I am quite anxious to see her again.” He looked at Elisa. “Perhaps you would accompany me, madam? You could help me persuade Caroline and William.”
Her indignation at the arrogance of his suggestion evaporated under his intense stare. There was a message in his eyes—words she could not quite read, for her soul was churning with the hot mixture of shame and anger that had been burning there since the afternoon, blinding her. Yet she knew that she must understand what he was trying to tell her. With a deep breath she let go of the emotions and opened her heart to his unspoken message.
He cared for her. Perhaps it wasn’t love, but it was desire. Even now her insides clenched, remembering the feel of him within her. Her fingers tingled, recalling the touch of his tight, smooth olive skin. She remembered how the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunched as he thrust within her time and again, his whole body swept up into the primitive need to take her, make her his. She could see now in her mind the feral, haunted look in his eyes as he spilled his seed within her. And her whole body thrummed with the remembered sensations, tight with renewed tension. The raw, replete flesh of her cleft, her abused nub of pleasure throbbed in response.
“Can you not respond?” Rufus remarked, bringing Elisa out of her wicked thoughts with a small jump.
She cleared her throat and looked Vaughn in the eye without difficulty. “I would be happy to assist, though I doubt you will have difficulty. They are enamored of you already.”
“Thank you,” he said, relief not only in his voice, but his beautiful emerald eyes as well.
Conversation halted as the main course was served. Rufus attacked a healthy portion of lamb and vegetables smothered in gravy. Throughout the meal Elisa could feel Vaughn watching her and knew he wanted her to look at him, but she forced herself not to respond. The setting was too intimate. There were no guests to distract Rufus tonight. He would see far too much if she gave in to the emanation of Vaughn’s will silently reaching out to her across the table.
When she felt a light touch on her ankle, she quickly tucked her feet back beneath the chair, out of Vaughn’s reach. She would not give in so easily. She knew now that theirs had been a mere tryst. It had ended just as all things ended and she would emphasize that point to Vaughn.
Tomorrow she would tell him.
Rufus stood abruptly, with a belch, and a thump to the chest to clear his wind. “Time for a cigar. Come Elisa,” he declared.
Her plate was still untouched, but Elisa willingly rose to her feet.
“She’s not finished eating,” Vaughn pointed out.
Rufus looked at the untouched plate, then back to Elisa. “You’re getting much too thin, my dear. Come, play for me.” He extended his arm.
Elisa glanced at Vaughn, lounging in his chair with one hand on the goblet of wine, then tucked her hand under Rufus’s arm and allowed him to lead her from the room.
Vaughn stayed at the long table while the servants cleared the two untouched plates and the remains of Rufus’s hearty meal and silently wiped up the slops from his glass. While they worked, a soft melody trickled from the piano in the parlor. An hour went by while Vaughn finished off the bottle of port and music filled the manor. He envisioned what was happening in the other room and considered opening another bottle. Elisa would be playing the piano, wooing her fiancé to sleep, hoping he would pass out and not bother her.
Trying to avoid attention had been a hallmark of his own schooldays, he recalled, and his stomach twisted at the thought. The life he’d experienced in school wasn’t so different from the life Elisa would live, married to the monster he had the privilege to call “Father.”
How could she consider submitting to that life for even an instant?
For a moment he entertained the delights that would come from taking her from here. Spiriting her away—to Kirkaldy, his estate on the Scottish border overlooking a field of heather, Kirkaldy, that his mother had loved, where she had been so happy. They would have a good life there, away from the ghosts.
He ran a hand down his face, as he realized where his thoughts were straying. Dear lord, he had drunk far too much tonight! He had come to despise drunks thanks to his father’s example, yet he had allowed himself to become intoxicated and his mind to wander like a befuddled old fool’s.
The music stopped in the next room and he waited, listening for her footsteps. There they were—small feet climbing the cold stairs, the noise echoing off the marble walls. The whisper of steps along the carpet of the old wing corridor, then the distant closing of a door.
Vaughn forced himself to movement. He crossed to the drawing room and peeked in. Rufus was sprawled in a wing chair, his head fallen against one shoulder, snoring loudly, his mouth ajar. He would sleep until morning.
Vaughn shut the door and blinked a little, clearing his head. The fool’s visions of domestic bliss in Kirkaldy were still wreathing his thoughts, sliding into his mind. Where had they come from?
Beckoned on by the seductive urgings, Vaughn climbed the stairs to the second floor and turned right, heading for the wing where she had just gone.
At her door he listened, but heard nothing. He tried the handle and found it unlocked.
Surely she had left it open for him?
Encouraged, Vaughn slid inside the room, but the moment he entered, she turned on the stool she sat upon before the dresser, her eyes narrowing.
“Get out,” she spat.
“I know you don’t mean that.”
“Marianne will be here any moment to help me undress.”
“I’ll help you.”
She shook her head. “You’ve been more than enough help, thank you.” Her narrowed eyes were filled with a light…with anger, he realized with a jolt.
�
��You’re angry with me?”
“You used me!” she declared.
“You used me as well,” he shot back.
“That is a lie!”
“Really? Tell me that you did not for one moment feel some satisfaction in betraying that pig of a man you intend to marry. Tell me that there was not the smallest degree of revenge in your soul when you lay with me and thought of him. Tell me that.”
Her mouth opened in disbelief and she rose to her feet. “You insufferable bastard!”
He smiled, understanding the guilt that forced her to deny the truth of his words. He took a step closer, within arm’s reach. “Do you hate me so much, then?”
Lifting her chin, she swallowed hard. “I have been hurt before, Vaughn. I know the cruelty of men and you would think by now I would have learned my lesson. Yet I allowed myself to be led down that road once more and this time I have only myself to blame. Therefore, I will bear responsibility for ending this affair. I would ask you to leave.”
He reached out, his finger tracing the curve of her neck. She flinched, but didn’t push him away. “Do you really want me to go, Elisa?”
Her breasts strained against her gown and he could see her eyes turn dark with the passion that had driven her that afternoon to wanton acts that fired his blood even in memory. But her voice remained calm and she did not sway towards him in response to his touch. “I will not be betrayed again,” she said. “If you do not go now, then you will betray me in the end.”
“I want you.”
“You want only to hurt your father.”
“To hell with the old man,” he snarled.
She watched him intently, as though if she looked hard enough she would find the answer she sought.
He attempted to explain himself a little better. “I knew you were an equal and not the plaything others assumed you to be.”
A blush raced quickly up her neck. “A plaything?” she replied.
He shrugged, hoping to disguise his discomfort with such disclosures. He caressed the upper swell of her breasts above the dress, through the delicate lace. God, just standing this close to her was making him throb with need for her, for the sweet release he had enjoyed that day. “You are no plaything,” he added. “I could take you a dozen times and it would not be enough.”
Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) Page 18