Having collected the remnants of their meal and placed it back in the bag, Kit threw it over his shoulder and came to stand behind her.
‘Allow me. Let me assist you. I think we will have to go to them,’ and without further ado and before Serena could object, he caught her up, placing one arm beneath her knees and the other round her back, holding her so close she could feel the hard rack of his muscular chest, and the firm-as-a-rock steadiness of his arms.
But placing his booted feet on the rocky bed of the stream, Kit slipped—whether accidentally or on purpose Serena had no way of knowing, but she gasped, fully expecting to find herself immersed in the cold tumbling water. To her relief he regained his footing.
‘Put me down,’ she demanded. ‘I can make my own way across.’
Kit laughed, having no intention of relinquishing his hold on this delectable baggage when he’d managed to draw her close at last. ‘Just bear with me and cease struggling. I should hate to drench us both.’
Realising her arms had locked themselves about his neck, and having closed her eyes in panic the moment he had slipped, Serena now opened them cautiously, finding his face so very close to her own, his eyes staring into hers, plumbing their emerald depths with a leisured thoroughness as he splashed through the water.
Serena felt warmth spread unbidden over her face beneath his close perusal, embarrassed at finding herself held so close. They reached the other side of the stream and, after what she thought was an unnecessarily prolonged moment that set her teeth on edge, Kit lowered her to the ground, sliding her body down his slowly, determined to play his act of possession out to the very end.
Serena turned slightly, catching her breath in surprise when she felt the light touch of his hand against her breast. The contact sent a rush of excitement crashing through her, and it was somewhat surprising to realise that her breathing and her heartbeat were affected by his touch. She had only ever skirted on the fringes of sensual awareness, and it was astounding how quickly her body could respond.
Beneath her clothes her breasts became warm, pleasurably so, she was ashamed to realise, as her gaze fastened on Kit’s. The glow of his dark eyes probed deep into hers, penetrating and questioning. They stood quite still, their gazes arrested, magnetised in the silent communication of sexual attraction, which was unlike anything Serena had experienced before. Her breath became snared in her throat, for she was absolutely astounded that he had the ability to scatter her wits and dismantle her defences so easily. The heat of a flush suffused her, her face becoming the colour of crimson. Again she met Kit’s dark, warm eyes filled with challenging amusement, daring her to accuse him of any misdeed. But she knew he had a propensity for being mischievous and did not like being made sport of.
‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly, regaining her aloofness and stepping back. ‘But whatever it is you have in mind where I am concerned, I would advise you not to trifle with me. Unlike Dorothea, I am not as easily taken in by a man who takes her fancy—although it is clear to me that you do not grieve over her loss.’
What she said was true. Dorothea had become just a pale shadow of Kit’s past. ‘It’s unfortunate that our plans went awry, but I do not grieve for her. I was fond of your cousin but nothing more,’ Kit readily admitted, secretly grateful to Lord Carberry for disclaiming his suit in the light of the Gunpowder Plot. If he hadn’t done so, Kit wouldn’t be here in total isolation with Serena.
Despite their differences and her determination to stand against him at every turn, even when she was enraged and taunted and goaded him in a way no one had dared to do before, Kit enjoyed being with her more than with any woman he had known. He was intrigued by every aspect of her. Never had he met a woman who could match her for fire and spirit, and if ever she opened her arms to him he would be hard pressed to remember any of them who had gone before.
Serena’s mere presence could tantalise and awaken his lusting desires to the point of madness, while she was absolutely oblivious to what she did. She was too innocent and unworldly to realise she had been born with the wiles of a temptress.
‘Weren’t you a lovesmitten young woman once—when you fell prey to Blackwell’s charms?’ he taunted.
The emerald green eyes flashed with sparks of indignation. ‘What my feelings were for that reprobate is none of your business, and I would be grateful if you would refrain from mentioning his name to me ever again.’
She turned from him and was about to move towards Polly when, suddenly, long fingers closed tightly upon her upper arms and Kit pulled her back against his hard chest, his breath warm on her cheek when he spoke, his lips so close to her ear that it set her body trembling in alarm. Without turning, she knew that his face had become warm and sensual.
‘Please let me go,’ she begged, her voice quavering, shock and surprise stiffening her body, anticipation of what was to come slamming against the self-control she was fighting to keep intact. She tried to struggle, but he held her firm.
‘I will,’ he murmured behind her, his voice deep and husky, teasing her ear with his lips, the touch so light she could have imagined it. ‘I will respect your request, Serena, and I can only rejoice that you did not reject my touch as violently as you did Blackwell’s.’
‘Dear Lord,’ Serena whispered in alarm, closing her eyes and leaning helplessly against her tormentor, feeling that it was like falling into the open jaws of a mantrap which would snap shut at any moment. ‘Please don’t do this to me. I want none of this.’
‘I think it’s a little late to start praying,’ Kit teased huskily. ‘Do not deny what you feel or try to forestall what your heart knows to be the inevitable. There may be conspiracies at work in the political sphere, Serena, but there is another kind of conspiracy working between us, between our hearts, that neither of us will be able to escape when it reaches its height.’
‘How can you know my emotions when I have not expressed them to you?’
‘I am attuned to what a woman thinks. I know perfectly well the effect it had on you when you felt my hands slide slowly down your body when I set you on the ground. It was my pleasure, Serena, I do assure you,’ Kit said, his voice as seductive and soft as thick velvet. ‘I look forward to the day when I will break the bonds of restraint which bind you—so for mercy’s sake, do not fight me as you did Blackwell.’
Serena felt his lips drag themselves across her cheek when she pulled away from him. Without turning and quite perplexed, she moved towards Polly with wooden legs as she struggled to regain her composure, piece by shattered piece, feeling his eyes on her all the while.
What was happening to her? she asked herself, cursing the lure she had felt in the strength of Kit’s arms, dauntingly aware that she would be unable to fight the desires his touch had aroused in her if they were to remain alone for much longer. How could her treacherous heart have betrayed her so readily—and with a man she told herself she had no particular liking for? The resentment and dislike she felt for him would need careful nurturing if they were to survive.
Trembling in every limb, she mounted her horse. As she began to ride on she tried not to look at Kit again, but she found it impossible not to, having to pass where he was waiting for her on his horse to cross to the other side of the stream. The cold stare she intended to fix on him melted when she faced him once more, and though she searched his face to find something there that would stir her resentment, there was nothing but a strange tenderness in the dark depths of his eyes.
Chapter Nine
The snow, which they had hoped would refrain from falling until they reached their destination, offered them no such respite. It began falling heavily during the afternoon, swirling in a sharp wind, and had soon formed a thick veil over the landscape. The path they were following disappeared and their tracks were soon filled in, with nothing to mark their passing. The horses moved at a steady pace, picking their way with care, but they would soon lose their ability to keep moving altogether if it got much deeper.
Wi
th the fading light it became bitterly cold. Their breath formed a cloud of vapour in the frosty air and their vision became limited. Serena’s gloved hands, her feet, and even her mind, grew numb. There were moments when she had the absurd feeling that she was floating along. And then she knew it was nothing but a weak fantasy when her eyes focused on Kit’s large figure just in front of her.
Had he been alone Kit might have carried on the three miles or so to Addlington Hall, but it was evident to him that Serena was chilled to the bone and nearing exhaustion. The light was fading fast and it was imperative that they found shelter soon, otherwise she was in danger of freezing to death. As they topped a ridge, Kit paused and turned to her before they made the descent.
‘Stay close to me,’ he shouted above the wind. ‘It’s treacherous at the best of times riding down this side of the hill. At the bottom we’ll be on level ground and close to a place where we can stay the night. Hopefully we’ll soon have a roof over our heads. It’s not the destination I had planned, but we’ll never make it there tonight.’
Serena’s teeth were chattering so fiercely that she couldn’t have replied if she’d wanted to. Slowly she followed Kit down the steep hill, feeling Polly slip and slither beneath her, praying she wouldn’t fall out of the saddle. If she did, she would never manage to climb back up again.
Kit looked back to make sure she was all right, unable to see her face which was hidden beneath the large hood of her cloak. ‘It’s just a little farther,’ he assured her. ‘Stay close to me.’
An odd, disconnected shape appeared like a ghostly apparition out of the curtain of snow. Straining her eyes, Serena saw it was an ancient tower-like structure, just one of many she’d seen dotting the Northumberland landscape.
‘Take care,’ shouted Kit, the wind whipping the words from his lips. ‘The tower used to be enclosed by a ditch. You can just see the traces of it where the snow hasn’t quite filled it in.’
Picking their way across a narrow bridge, Serena’s heart was in her mouth, fully expecting it to give way beneath them and send them tumbling into the ditch below. The wind chose that moment to go crazy, coming at them from all sides and blinding them with driven snow. Once across, Kit dismounted and went to Serena, his only thought being to get her inside the shelter of the tower as quickly as possible. Reaching up, he dragged her from the saddle, holding her tightly against him. Feeling her tense nerves responding to his touch, he struggled against the buffeting wind, fully aware that she was frozen through as she strained through the deepening drifts beside him, scarcely able to lift her feet.
The tower house, built by Kit’s ancestors, was a strong structure with three storeys. Uninhabited for decades, it was almost derelict, but it would provide them with much-needed shelter for this one night. The basement was for stock, where Kit would stable the horses, and the entrance to the upper storeys was at first-storey level up a flight of stone steps, precariously covered with snow. Managing to surmount these and still holding Serena close to him, Kit put his weight to the broken timbers of the door, relieved when it swung open with a loud creak on its rusty hinges.
Their eyes did a broad sweep of their surroundings, able to make out tattered shreds of hangings on the walls encrusted with dirt, and the odd shapes of rotting and broken furniture. A small, gaping window was set high up in the wall through which snowflakes danced. Filthy, mildewed rushes were strewn on the floor, and there was a pile of half-charred logs in the raised hearth, no doubt left over from when some other traveller had sought shelter within these walls.
‘Good Lord,’ said Kit. ‘I apologise for the sorry state of the place. It’s dismal, I know, but it will have to do. We will not be too uncomfortable once we have a fire going and can feed our appetites.’
Serena stared around her in stunned disbelief. She had not expected him to bring her to a grand house, but this was dreadful. The cold had penetrated so deeply into the tower that she doubted even the fiercest furnace could warm it. Dread settled over her heart at the thought of having to spend the night in this foul-smelling, hideous place.
Drawing her farther inside, Kit sat her down on a broken settle. ‘At least there’s a fireplace. I’ll get a fire going as soon as I’ve stabled the horses below. There’s a bag of oats fastened to the saddle—not enough, but it will have to suffice until we get to Addlington. Will you be all right until I return?’ he asked, drawing back her hood and peering into her face, which was as white as the snow outside.
Having lost the power of speech, Serena could only stare at him in disbelief, the thought of being alone in this awful place causing panic to well up inside her. When Kit moved towards the door she flew after him, intending to go with him, but he turned quickly and thrust her back down on to the settle, trying not to dwell on those mesmeric, terror-filled eyes.
‘For once in your life do as you’re told, Serena,’ he ordered sharply. ‘And don’t give me that angry, defiant look,’ he chastened when he saw her jerk up her chin a notch. ‘In your present state you’re too weak to stand against me. Now wait here. There’s no one here so you’ll be perfectly safe until I get back.’
In numb silence Serena watched him disappear into the swirling snow, wondering why he wasn’t as cold as she was. He had such strength, such confidence. Was he some superhuman who could withstand the cruel elements?
Exhausted beyond measure she sighed, relieved to be under cover, but as she stared at the mess around her she shuddered with distaste. In alarm her eyes flew upwards when she heard sounds coming from the upper storey, all her senses reverberating through her. It sounded like the flapping of hundreds of tiny wings, causing her heart to stand still. Dear Lord, she prayed, please don’t let them be bats.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, trying to suppress a persistent shiver, unable to believe that Kit had brought her to this gruesome place. She was floundering on the brink of exhaustion, bone weary, wet and cold, and after such a long journey she had expected to be welcomed by servants who would be waiting to cosset her, where she would find warmth and a meal, a bath and a comfortable chamber to sleep in, not this godforsaken derelict tower in the middle of a snow-covered wilderness. It was a world away from reality, one frozen in time where she could see nothing ahead of her but everlasting cold. Absolutely demoralised, she wanted to cry, but even her tears were frozen.
Kit was soon back, carrying the bags of food, an old rusty bucket he had found, and a lantern and tinderbox fitted with a flint and steel that he had miraculously discovered on a ledge in the basement where he had stabled the horses.
‘The horses should be all right until morning,’ he told her. ‘At least it’s dry down there. There’s some peat heaped up if we should need it. As soon as I have a fire going I’ll melt some snow down for water.’
After rummaging in one of the bags, he came towards her with a small vial and, after removing the stopper, placed it to her lips. ‘Here. Take a sip of this brandy. It will warm you and put some life back into your frozen limbs.’
Weak and in no condition to refuse, Serena took a sip of the liquid, coughing and almost choking when the fiery liquid reached the back of her throat, but she was glad to feel its warmth spreading through her when it reached her stomach.
Despite the grim aspect of the stronghold, Kit directed himself to the task of building the fire. Collecting some of the dry rushes from the floor, he heaped them in the hearth for kindling. Piling the half-charred logs on top, he placed a light to it. The dry rushes soon took hold and began to blaze, feeding the hungry flames. When he was satisfied that it wouldn’t go out, he turned his attention to Serena, perched on the edge of the settle. Going to her, he took her hand and raised her to her feet, drawing her towards the heat and dragging the settle after her.
‘Here. Sit close to the fire. You’ll soon begin to feel warmer.’
Doing as she was told and resuming her seat on the settle, Serena looked down at her hands. They were so painful she couldn’t remove her gloves. Kit’
s eyes missed nothing. When he saw her glance helplessly down at her hands he became touchingly aware of the pain she was experiencing. Squatting down, he smiled at her as though she were a child and he was trying to coax away her anguish and fears.
‘Here, let me,’ he murmured, taking hold of her hands with a gentleness Serena had not expected of him.
He removed her gloves as if her fingers were so fragile they would break if he was unduly rough. Freeing them from their confinement, he enfolded her small hands in his own and tried to rub the circulation back into her frozen veins. With his head bent and intent on his task, he raised her hands to his lips, holding them there in the hope that the warmth from his mouth would help with the thaw, leisurely caressing the cold flesh with his lips.
Wholly dependent on him, Serena watched in rapt amazement. A pulsating heat began to throb in her hands, spreading outwards, and she felt shooting, tingling sensations travelling to the tips of her fingers. With her hands still enfolded in his, Kit’s gaze swept upwards and regarded her in silence, and for a moment his eyes held hers with penetrating intensity.
The mysterious depths were as enigmatic as they were silently challenging, and unexpectedly Serena felt an answering response. The darkening in Kit’s eyes warned her that he was aware of that brief response and his eyes narrowed, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. No words were spoken, but in the glow of the firelight their eyes locked, each probing and searching the innermost thoughts of the other. When she would have pulled her hands free Kit refused to relinquish his hold. Taking one hand in each of his own, he placed them against his cheeks.
‘Are they warmer now?’
Her lips trembled into a smile of thanks, bringing a glow to Kit’s eyes—it was a smile that warmed him to his soul. ‘For a smile like that I would sleep with Lucifer himself if I knew I could be the recipient of another like it,’ he murmured.
Conspiracy of Hearts Page 15