The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  Her eyes widened then she giggled. “Oh, no. I was not speaking to your books. I was trying to coerce the cat down from the shelf.” She pointed to the bookcase. “Spooks did not want to come down, so I was convincing him otherwise.”

  “Spooks?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s the cat I gave the twins yesterday.”

  Trevor nodded. “And what is he doing in my library?”

  She shrugged. “He’s either trying to further his education by reading…or he’s hiding from me.”

  He chuckled again. Louisa certainly had a quick wit. Lately, he found himself laughing more than he had before when she was around. He also realized he’d begun to desire a woman. Gwen had somehow taken that ability away from him since he married her, but slowly, Louisa was bringing it back.

  He glanced on the top shelf. “It appears as if your attempts of coercing him down have failed. I suppose I should try.”

  “Oh, no, Your Grace. Let me do that.”

  He ran his gaze over her petite frame. “You, my dear, do not have arms long enough.” Trevor’s gaze slid playfully toward the stool. “Obviously.”

  Carefully, he climbed on the stool and peeked on the top shelf. Spooks curled in a ball and slept like a baby, which made it easier to slip his hand under the animal and carry him down. Once Trevor’s feet were firmly on the floor, he handed the bundle to Louisa.

  “Honestly, Louisa, I don’t know why you thought this animal belonged to the Devil. I had no problem with him.”

  Grinning, she shook her head. “Then Spooks must appreciate your gentle hand more than mine.”

  Without thinking, he cupped her fingers and caressed them. “Actually, your hands are considerably softer.” He winked. “I think the cat didn’t like the names you called him.”

  She laughed. “Perhaps. I don’t know what I would have done if you had not happened by. I would probably be chasing that animal all afternoon.”

  How he wanted to lift her fingers to his lips and rub her softness against him. The urge to take her in his arms became overpowering, and he knew she’d somehow enchanted him. Her smoldering eyes nearly had him on his knees begging for her affection.

  Heavens, what’s wrong with me? He wasn’t desperate like Lord Hawthorne. So why did Trevor feel he must have Louisa?

  He released her hand and stepped back. Being this close wasn’t wise or healthy. Hooking his hands behind his back, he wished he’d stop thinking about her in such a personal way. Yet it was such a pleasant change to have his thoughts wonder in her direction, which always made him smile.

  “So what does Mrs. Smythe have you doing today?” he quickly asked.

  “I’m tidying up in the rooms.” She took the feather duster out of her apron pocket. “Until she finds me something else to do, this is what will keep me busy.”

  “Seems like an easy enough task.”

  “I certainly hope so, Your Grace. I would hate to think I mucked up another position.”

  “Rest assured, Louisa, Mrs. Smythe will find the right fit for you.”

  She shrugged as her hand petted the sleeping kitten in her arms. “The housekeeper will not allow me into the kitchen. Neither will Francois. And Mrs. Fitzwilliam refuses to give me anymore rose clippers.” Louisa took a deep breath. “I fear at this rate, Mrs. Smythe will run out of things for me to do before too long.”

  He leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms. “Do you remember anything about your past?”

  “Well, I have had a few visions. I believe I had worked for a wealthy family before. The other day when I looked into your ballroom, I saw one in my mind. It was crowded with people, and there was a little girl who wanted to dance, so her father picked her up in his arms and swung her around. And then, of course, I remembered the things I did in the kitchen about the footman and the butler.” She smiled. “I also believe this family I worked for might have taught me French.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You speak the language?”

  “Yes. When Francois made a rude comment to me the other day, I replied back in French. It surprised everyone in the kitchen, especially me.”

  Trevor couldn’t stop watching the way her hand moved across the animal’s fur in soft strokes. And for the life of him, he wanted to feel her tender touch. “That is very interesting.” Before he could stop himself, he reached over and petted the animal curled against her. When the tip of his fingers brushed her fingers, fire shot through him. Although he didn’t want the incredible feeling to leave, out of propriety, he withdrew.

  “Indeed it is, Your Grace.”

  He cleared his throat—and hopefully his mind as well—and stepped back. “Well, I shall leave you to your duties. What are you going to do about the cat?”

  “I need to return Spooks to the nursery…unless you would like to do it.”

  He blinked, surprised. Why would she think he’d want the chore?

  “You could check on the children,” she continued innocently.

  Their eyes locked and Trevor stilled. Those huge, round green eyes peered straight through him—right into his soul. Did she know? Could she actually see his insecurities regarding the children? Impossible. And yet…there was something all too intuitive—worldly—in her arresting gaze. This woman was a mystery, and not just in regard to her memory. No, something innate drew him to her. Something carnal and deep. It would behoove him to be wary.

  “I would not wish Mrs. Smythe to think I’m shirking my duties.” She smiled and gently dropped the kitten into his arms. Grudgingly he took the animal. “Would you do this for me, please?”

  Staring into her lustrous eyes, he knew he couldn’t possibly turn her away. Not with her pleading gaze locked to his. “No, we…um…do not wish Mrs. Smythe to think that about you when, um…it’s far from the truth.” His heart pounded crazily the longer he looked at her, and he couldn’t believe how tongue-tied she made him.

  A smile stretched across her mouth and her lovely eyes twinkled. Slowly, she curtsied, holding his stare the whole time. When she turned to continue tidying up the room, it took all of his willpower to pull away and leave.

  Strange to think, but she had bewitched him.

  He hurried up the stairs toward the nursery. He opened the door to the children’s room and walked inside. The twins stopped playing and looked up at him with wide eyes. When their gazes fell to the cat, they cheered and jumped to their feet. His heart melted as they came to him holding out their hands to take the animal. Even Amanda didn’t seem frightened of him. How he prayed the children were his and not another man’s offspring.

  Mrs. Jacobs waddled toward him, smiling. “I see Miss Louisa found the kitten.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  The older woman clucked. “I almost wish she hadn’t. Having the animal in the nursery distracts the children.”

  “From what, Mrs. Jacobs?”

  “Well...from their studies, of course.”

  The conversation he’d had with Louisa the other day about the children resurfaced. He frowned. “Considering the twins are only two,” he said sternly, “I do not see how a cat is going to distract them from their studies when they should not be studying at all. And if they do, it should only be at limited times during the day.”

  Mrs. Jacob’s narrowed eyes laced with malice, and as she opened her stiff lips to speak when a crash shook the walls. The mysterious boom had come from downstairs. His heart dropped. He darted out of the nursery and down the stairs. Servants filtered from the other rooms to see what had caused the sound.

  Then came Mrs. Smythe’s shriek. “Louisa!”

  Fear lodged in his throat, and he ran faster. Had something terrible happened to her? Yet the closer he came to the library and could hear the housekeeper’s irate grumbles, a different fear took over. What did Louisa do this time? He almost didn’t want to know.

  Chapter Seven

  Servants peered into the doorway of the room where he and Louisa had talked only moments ago, wide eyed with hands over their m
ouths. Trevor pushed past them to enter. Then halted.

  Mrs. Smythe paced the floor, in between the books on the floor and the overturned bookcases, mumbling incoherently as she made wide gestures with her hands. Trevor took in the scene carefully. How had his bookcases—two of them, anyway—fallen over?

  “What is wrong with that girl,” Mrs. Smythe said to nobody but herself. “I have only so much patience…” She bunched her hands into fists. “There’s only so much I can do.” She stopped and faced Trevor. The older woman’s face crimson with fury. “I’ve tried, Your Grace, but she is un-teachable. I cannot train her. She just...” She motioned her hand toward the mess on the floor. “Obviously, she has no skills at all. I have never seen anything like this in all my years.” She breathed deeply, rubbing her forehead.

  “Where is Louisa?” he asked.

  The housekeeper threw up her hands. “I don’t know, Your Grace.”

  “Your Grace, if I may?” Hobbs moved beside Trevor. “I saw Louisa run out the side door toward the west end.” He pointed in the direction.

  Trevor inhaled deeply, hoping to calm his ire before he went after the girl. “I shall find her and have a talk with her.”

  A few of the men lifted the bookcases as the maids scurried around, picking up the books. A slight pound started in Trevor’s forehead as he left the house in search of the reckless woman. He tried to convince himself it wasn’t her fault...that because her loss of memory she really couldn’t be blamed for causing such havoc. Yet he wondered why she hadn’t found what she was good at. Obviously, she had worked for a wealthy family. Her vision of the ballroom and the way a meal should be served suggested she had. So then why couldn’t she do anything right?

  He walked a good distance, wondering if he should have taken his horse. She couldn’t have gone too far. Then again, she’d been running, and probably scared of punishment. And rightly so...since she could have destroyed his library. At the same time, she could have hurt herself, and his gut churned with the knowledge. He couldn’t bear to see her injured anymore than she had been.

  When he neared the pond hidden in the grove of trees, her sobbing echoed through the stillness and he slowed his steps. On her knees, she faced the pool of water and rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her waist. Locks of hair had fallen from her bun, and dangled around her shoulders and face. Pity tugged at his heart. Poor confused girl.

  She sniffed and wiped her hand under her nose. She’d yet to face him. “I cannot help it. Nobody understands.” She sniffed again. “What’s wrong with me? It’s no wonder I was starved half to death, I never do anything right.”

  Did she know he was so near? Yet she made no indication she was aware of his presence. Taking soft steps, he moved closer. Her rambling didn’t make sense. When she saw him, she flinched. Wide, terrified eyes peered up at him, her mouth and shoulders quivering.

  “Oh, please forgive me.” A fresh batch of tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” She sniffed. “Please don’t take away my meals for punishment. I promise I will try harder.”

  He stopped short. Stunned. Why on earth would she think he wouldn’t feed her? Her too slender frame from when they first met haunted him and horror dawned, sending a wave of nausea through his gut. Dear God… He moved toward her. “Louisa, I—”

  Still on her knees, she jumped away from him. “Please, don’t hurt me. Don’t withhold my food. I will do better, Macgregor—” Suddenly she stopped. Her face paled as her arms fell to her sides.

  Clearly, she had remembered something. He knelt in front of her and cautiously grasped her shoulders. “Louisa? What do you remember?”

  “I—I—” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

  “Who is Macgregor?”

  Her body shook as the color in her face faded quickly. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “All I know is he was mean to me. When I didn’t do his bidding, he starved me.”

  Confusion twisted inside Trevor’s head, wrenching his heart. He wanted to pull this poor woman into his arms and wash away those vile memories. For certain, she was still disoriented. Had she been hit in the head during the accident in the library?

  “It’s all right.” Ignoring the warnings in his head, he followed his urges and tugged her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his middle as hard, wrenching sobs shook her. Her face pressed into his chest and his shirt quickly dampened from her tears.

  “Shhh...” He stroked her satin locks flowing down her back. Resting his cheek on top of her head, he closed his eyes. The scent of roses he’d always detected whenever she was around enveloped him. Comforting her felt too nice and brought a little peace to his own troubled life. She’d made him laugh when he thought he’d never do it again. She made him smile and peer at the world from a different angle. More importantly, she made him feel needed—like he’d never felt before.

  Without thinking first, he placed a kiss on her head, lingering before pulling away. “Please don’t cry.” Literally, her sobs were tearing him apart—as was holding her so closely. “I would never punish you in such a way. Never.”

  Slowly, she shook her head, still against his chest. “Why can I not remember?” she whispered.

  He touched his lips to the skin below her hairline. “The doctor said your memory would return in its own time.”

  She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “Honestly, I cannot recall this Macgregor. In my mind, all I see is a shadowy figure of a man. A beastly man with a raspy voice. But...” Her mouth quivered again. “I can feel how frightened he made me. I truly believe he’s very dangerous.”

  “I swear to you, Louisa, I will not allow him to come near you.” He stroked his thumb across her cheek, removing her tears. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze dropped to his lips, and suddenly, his mouth turned dry. Long, wet lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she licked her lips. Her green eyes darkened and desire leapt inside him. She slid her hand up his chest slowly. His muscles flexed beneath her fingers. By the time her palm rested on his neck, his heartbeat had quickened considerably. Heaven help him, but her touch was so sweet he wanted more.

  “Trevor Worthington, you have such a giving heart. You are the kindest man I know.”

  It was the first time she’d said his given name, and the words breezed from her mouth like an angel’s kiss. He enjoyed the way his name sounded from her musical voice, and he realized he wanted to hear it more often.

  He couldn’t fight it any longer. Perhaps if he kissed her just this once it would satisfy his craving...it would appease his curiosity so he could put her from his mind—and dreams—once and for all.

  “Why,” she whispered as her fingers brushed fire into his skin, “are you so wonderful to me?”

  How long had it been since a woman’s sweet words had stirred such emotion inside him? Her intoxicating eyes melted his resolve, and he wanted to hear more of her words whispered in kindness.

  His breathing turned ragged as he slowly brought his mouth down to cover hers, still moist from her tears. He kissed her gently, first the top lip and then the bottom. A sigh escaped her throat as she leaned closer. Cupping her face, he pressed his mouth more firmly against hers until she relaxed. As he continued the kiss, heat seared through him and explosions erupted in his ears.

  Letting out a little sigh, she clutched his shirt. He moved a hand down her back, urging her against him more. Finally, he was able to touch her back and waist the way he’d craved earlier when she stood on the stool in his library. As she returned his kisses, he swept both hands over her, stroking her blonde hair, her slim shoulders, strong back and tiny waist.

  It had been too long since he had kissed a woman who responded so quickly. Hesitantly, he withdrew. Happiness filled her expression through her closed eyes and parted grin. Her cheeks were pink, her lips moist and swollen. He loved staring at her this way. But more than that, he loved partaking of her sweet lips and melting kisses and
wanted this feeling to last…forever.

  Unfortunately, forever was a shorter time-span than he’d liked because off in the distance, her name was called.

  Dash it. He pulled away. By the dazed look in her eyes, he knew she hadn’t heard. “Someone is coming,” he said.

  She gasped and turned away from him, swiping her hands through her hair frantically. How he wanted her back in his arms.

  What they had done should never happen again. Breathing deeply, and slowly, he willed the yearning pain to leave his heart and never return. He stared at the pond, wondering if he should jump in. After all, the cool water would bring him back to reality.

  Before the voices reached them, he felt confident enough to walk beside Louisa out of the grove of trees. Mrs. Smythe and another maid came their way. Louisa’s frown had returned and she wiped under her eyes, giving the impression that she’d been crying.

  “Oh, thank the Lord, His Grace has found you.” Mrs. Smythe rushed to Louisa and took her in a hug. “I worried where you had run off to.”

  Louisa sniffed, keeping her gaze on the ground. “Please forgive me for causing such trouble.”

  Trevor stepped closer, forcing himself to act like a duke and not a seducer of distraught young women. That was what Hawthorne was good at—not Trevor. “Louisa, I told you not to worry. We know you cannot remember much, but your memory will return in due time.”

  She lifted glassy eyes to his for a brief moment before looking back at her feet. “I thank you, Your Grace. You are certainly a man with a big heart to forgive so easily.”

  He met Mrs. Smythe’s eyes. “Please let her rest this afternoon. She’s had a difficult morning.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace.”

  They walked back to the house, and with each step, he scolded himself. What had he been thinking? Obviously he’d not used his brain, but his lonely heart instead. The sad thing was he couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss...about how she sighed his name, and most importantly, how she felt in his arms. Finally, he was able to feel like a desirable man, and heaven help him, he wanted to feel this way all the time!