by Monica Burns
“Riding one ‘o’ one?”
“It’s an expression, it means a beginner class,” she snapped with frustration. “Admit it. You didn’t expect me to ride this morning, and you sure as hell didn’t expect me ride Mischief.”
“You’re correct. I didn’t expect you to ride this morning.” The rueful reply made Victoria grit her teeth as he caught her chin in his fingers and made her look at him. “But you’ve not yet told me why you were running away.”
Chapter 10
“I wasn’t running away.”
“You’re not a very good liar,” he murmured at the lack of conviction in her voice.
Nicholas went rigid with amazement. He’d actually been able to tell she was lying. Vickie had always been so adept at lying it was difficult to know when she was or wasn’t telling the truth. Her habitual deceit had forced him to operate on the premise that she always lied. But this was the first time in recent memory, if ever, that he’d been able to discern his wife was telling the truth.
“And you’re an obstinate bastard.” The sarcastic reply made him chuckle.
“I’m not as obstinate as you think, madam wife, and your language has become…quite colorful during your absence.” He suppressed another laugh.
“You have no idea how colorful my language can be,” she muttered in a bristly manner.
“Tell me where you were running to, Victoria.”
He tried to keep his voice gentle, despite his determination to have the truth from her. The irony of the thought made his mouth twist slightly with frustration. His fingers captured her chin and forced her to look at him. The helplessness reflected in her sapphire gaze aroused a sudden urge to protect her. The sensation made him bite down on the inside of his cheek. The woman was weaving her magic over him, and he needed to remember who he was talking too. A voice in the back of his mind whispered something he wasn’t ready to accept, and he crushed the sound.
“Answer me, Victoria,” he said quietly.
“I don’t know.” With a tug she pulled free of his grasp and turned her head away.
“Shall we take a different tack?” he said with a sigh. “If I hadn’t stopped you, where would you have gone?”
“London, I suppose. I don’t really know.”
“Are you afraid of me, Victoria?”
“Have I acted like I’m afraid of you?” she said with light-hearted sarcasm.
“With the exception of jumping into an icy pond, I’d say no.”
The moment he spoke, her tension vibrated its way into him. Anna was correct. Victoria was frightened. She was so frightened she’d been willing to risk drowning in her effort to escape. What could possibly have her so terrified? Had she discovered something about Reardon and was frightened the man would hurt her. He’d never let that happen.
It was his duty to protect his wife, but his reaction to the idea of someone harming Victoria filled him with an inexplicable rage. The intensity of his anger was startling enough, but it was the fear accompanying his fury that alarmed him. It suggested his feelings for his wife were changing. Silence stretched out between them with the only other sounds being the clattering of pebbles beneath Zeus’ hooves and the occasional chirping of a bird. After several minutes, he bent his head toward her.
“You must trust me, Victoria,” he growled with frustration. Her gaze met his, and the fear in her eyes made him long to comfort and reassure her all would be well. They were emotions he didn’t want to feel, but he was incapable of pushing them aside. Nicholas brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I can’t help you, if you won’t trust me.”
“You can’t help me,” she whispered in a despondent tone.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” A tremor rippled through her, and he gently nudged her chin upward with his knuckle. “What if I agree to hear your story with my solemn oath that there will be no repercussions?”
“I don’t understand.” She studied him with a wary look.
Nicholas bit down on the inside of his cheek. Was he actually considering the possibility that she was telling the truth? His jaw grew tight with tension. No, he was simply trying to understand who or what she was running from. Now, he was the one who was lying. He wanted her to trust him completely, just as much as he wanted to trust her. Nicholas swallowed the knot lodged in his throat at the revealing thought.
“Whatever you tell me will be in complete confidence. I swear not to use it against you.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“My word is my bond, Victoria. I will not break it.” Jaw clenched with angry indignation, Nicholas drew himself up straight, and Victoria had the grace to look remorseful.
“No matter how outlandish my story?” she asked hesitantly.
The cautious look on her face emphasized her fear. Impulsively, he stroked her cheek again. As his thumb rubbed against her lower lip, he realized how natural it felt to caress her this way. He jerked his hand away from her as a jolt of electricity surged through him. What the hell was wrong with him. He cleared his throat.
“No matter how ridiculous or outrageous your story sounds, I will not break my word.” He met her gaze and waited for her response. With a slow nod, she inhaled a deep breath as she stared at him.
“I’m from the future.”
The cadence of Zeus’ hooves on the driveway didn’t change as Nicholas frowned. What the devil was the woman talking about? He shook his head in puzzlement. He’d bluffed yesterday when he’d threatened to take her to the asylum, but now he wondered if he’d erred in not having Bertram at least have a look at her head. Irritation settled on her face.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” she snapped.
“I’m uncertain what it is I’m supposed to say,” he said with a bewilderment he’d not experienced since the day he and his sister, Abigail, had discovered the truth about their brother Edmund.
“Oh, that’s reassuring,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m trying to understand, Victoria, but you must admit it sounds like a ludicrous, far-fetched fabrication that—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted him. “I’m not crazy. And you promised you wouldn’t use any of this against me. I’m not going to let you put me in a strait-jacket.”
“I wasn’t about to suggest that at all,” he said as he suddenly envisioned her in an entirely different kind of restraint.
The image of her pinned beneath him as he thrust into her until she exploded over his cock knotted his muscles with intense desire. The strength of his need for her tightened his gut as he grew hard. He quickly shifted his body in an effort to avoid his erection from pushing into her hip. A knot threatened to remain lodged in his throat as he realized how much he wanted to bed her.
She was wreaking havoc on his senses in a way Vickie never had before, and he didn’t like it. Desperately, he fought to remain focused on their discussion and not the things he wanted to do with her body.
“Then what were you going to say?” She looked up at him as she waited on his answer.
“I was going to say it’s a story not even Vickie could invent.” He knew how preposterous Victoria’s explanation was, but he was certain she was telling the truth as she believed it to be. What he didn’t understand was the way in which she was nothing like Vickie. Her speech, mannerisms, and even the way she responded to his touch. She was as different from the woman he’d married as was possibly imaginable.
“Oh.” The subdued response made him chuckle, and she scowled at him before her expression lightened.
“Well, at least you’ve come to the realization that I’m not your wife.” The satisfaction in her voice triggered a stab of regret in him.
“No, I’ve not reached that conclusion at all.”
“You just said that Vickie couldn’t invent a story like this.”
“Victoria, you sustained a nasty blow to your head.” His hands tightened on Zeus’ reins as he sensed her disappointment and frustration. “Injuries such as y
ours can manifest any number of fantasies, including one that makes you believe you’re from the future.”
“It’s not an illusion. I’m not from your time. I don’t belong here.”
The mutinous tilt of her lips barely covered her fear and aroused something strong and visceral inside of him. He longed to make her feel safe. He wanted to hold her in his arms and press his body into her sweet curves like he had last night. His heart thundered almost painfully in his chest at the memory of how close he’d come to burying himself inside her hot core.
Christ Jesus, without protection he might have fathered a child. He struggled to breathe. Nicholas fixed his gaze on the road and shook his head as if that would rid himself of the sensations gnawing at him.
“Tell me what this future of yours looks like.”
“Well, in my time, you’re dead and buried, obviously.” It was a blatant retaliation for what he was certain she perceived as his attempt to appease her like a child.
“That is a decidedly unpleasant picture,” he murmured as he fought not to laugh. “But if that’s true, then it makes you much older than me.”
“You can be a real jerk, you know that.”
This time he couldn’t restrain his laughter. He didn’t know what a jerk was, but he was certain it wasn’t a compliment. The scowl on her face only emphasized the fact. Suddenly, her irritation evaporated, and laughter lit up her features.
A vise tightened with unexpected speed around his chest at the sight. He’d never seen his wife laugh at herself or laugh with such unrestrained amusement. Victoria’s laugh was far from the artificial sound of amusement Vickie had, and he realized he liked the change in her laughter. Alarm bells went off in the back of his head.
The witch was turning his world upside down, and that was something Vickie had never done. His wife had evoked lust and desire in him when they first met, but those feelings had died on their wedding day. But the one emotion he’d never experienced with Vickie was this constant sense of being off balance. He found it difficult to think clearly when she was near. Worse than that, he wanted her in his bed. In an effort to regain control of himself, he cleared his throat.
“You were telling me about this future of yours.”
“I’m not sure how much I should tell you.” Victoria’s laughter disappeared as uncertainty clouded her expression. “I don’t want to do anything that might change the future. Although I suppose if I tell you just the basics that would be okay.”
“I doubt anything you say will alter the course of history, Victoria,” he said in a reassuring manner.
“Well, I’m not much of a historian, but I know you don’t have cell phones, doors that open by themselves, or television.” She winced suddenly as if in pain. He eyed her carefully and instinctively knew her discomfort was not contrived. As much as he was interested to know about doors that opened by themselves, he was certain Victoria had over stretched herself.
“I think we’ll continue this discussion at a later time. You’re clearly not feeling well.”
“It’s just a headache.”
“You’ve had several headaches since you returned to Brentwood Park.” With a squeeze of his legs against Zeus’ sides, he urged the horse into a slow trot. “You’ve pushed yourself too hard by refusing to rest, and you had a restless sleep last night.”
“Yes,” she whispered as she darted a glance up at him then quickly looked away.
Nicholas’ gut twisted as he realized she was remembering what had happened between them last night. Somehow, he needed to make her understand he’d not meant to let things go as far as they had. In the back of his mind, he admitted he wanted to repeat the events of last night and see them through to their completion. His cock stirred in his breeches again. Determined not to allow his body to respond to her, Nicholas drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat.
“Victoria, about last night—”
“There’s no need to explain.”
“You’re wrong, Victoria. I took advantage of the situation.” Nicholas wanted to shake her for refusing to let him apologize.
“Well, the next time you start something like that, finish it,” she said as she scowled at him.
“I will,” he snapped.
Nicholas stiffened as the full impact of their exchange rang in his head like a church bell. Fuck, had he just admitted regret for failing to do as she’d just insinuated? Eyes widening with horror, Victoria jerked her gaze away from him. Was she appalled by his response or her obvious frustration that he’d left her unfulfilled last night? The silence between them thickened with a tension that was almost painful.
“Let’s just forget it happened. Okay?” she whispered with a hint of what he was certain was humiliation.
“As you wish,” he replied at a loss for words that would ease the mortification he knew she was feeling.
He wasn’t sure what bothered him the most. The idea that her desire excited him or the idea that last night had impacted him more than he cared to admit. The manor appeared in front of them, and relief swelled through him. Several minutes from now, he’d be able to put some physical distance between them. Last night had left him aching for something he didn’t understand, and holding her in his arms like this was becoming damned uncomfortable.
“You don’t like your wife very much do you?” It wasn’t an accusation so much as a simple observation.
“I’ve not been given enough reason to do so,” he snapped as he remembered the scene he’d stumbled upon in Lord Brentwood’s library the day of their wedding.
“What did she do to hurt you?”
“Humiliation is a better word. I found a footman and Vickie a few short hours after we were married in a…compromising position.”
Nicholas’ body hardened as he remembered the raw pain of humiliation he’d endured those few minutes as he’d stared at Vickie bent over a library table, while a footman fucked her from behind. His teeth clenched, he forced himself to push the loathsome image from his mind. She drew in a sharp breath as she met his gaze.
“You were in love with her.”
“No,” he shook his head.
“If you didn’t love her, why did you marry her?”
Unprepared for the question, Nicholas stiffened against her. Why in the hell was he responding to her questions as if she wasn’t his wife? His fingers tightened on Zeus’ reins to the point that the stallion tossed his head in protest. He didn’t like the fact that he had to remind himself that she was his wife. Changed perhaps, but she was still the Countess of Guildford. A sound of regret escaped Victoria.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a repentant tone. “That was rude of me.”
“We had an arranged marriage,” he said in a dispassionate voice, surprised at how easily she apologized when she was in the wrong. “Your father wanted a title for you, and I…I wanted Brentwood Park.”
“Brentwood Park must mean a great deal to you if you were willing to marry a woman you don’t love.”
“Marriage is a business arrangement. Love seldom comes into it,” he said firmly as mocking laughter sounded in the back of his mind. The fact that he’d confused love for lust only made his marriage to Vickie that much more of a disappointment.
“I won’t marry someone I don’t love,” she said in a resolute voice.
“You’re already married, madam wife.” At his dry response, she rolled her eyes at him.
“You’ll eventually have to admit that I’m not your wife.
“If I did, we’d both be in a great deal of trouble.”
He frowned. If Victoria’s story was true, then where was Vickie? Was it possible Vickie might be dead? He suppressed a snort at the ridiculous notion. Such a thing was impossible when he was holding his wife in his arms at this moment in time. He no longer believed she was the Vickie playing an elaborate game, but he didn’t believe she was from the future either. There had to be a medical explanation for Victoria’s behavioral changes. He’d have to find a way to convince Vict
oria to be seen by Dr. Bertram.
“I ran away because Anna knows I’m an imposter.” The unexpected confession took him by surprise, and he experienced a brief moment of pleasure that she’d trusted him enough to tell him why she’d run away.
“Anna will not betray your confidence. She and Sebastian are my closest friends. They’d never do anything to harm me,” he said in a reassuring tone of voice. “You can trust them just like you can me.”
“So what you’re really saying is that I have to continue pretending to be your wife until the real countess returns.” Fear echoed in her voice, and he pulled her tighter into his chest.
“Victoria, has it occurred to you that the life you say you have in the future might be your mind’s way of helping you deal with the trauma you suffered? We have no idea what happened to you, and it’s possible you’re blocking out the incident.” His question made her jerk her gaze up to him, and she shook her head.
“It’s not,” she said with a quiet conviction that had him questioning his own certainty.
“Tell me what you remember before Thomas Goodman found you.”
“I was in an art gallery. The picture of the cottage was there. I think I was going to buy it…” She gasped and pressed her hand up against her head. It was obvious she was in pain, but her gaze never left his. “I remember a man. He was in the gallery too. He was with me, but something happened. If I could just remember…”
A sharp cry escaped her before she lost consciousness and fell backward over his arm. Nicholas uttered a soft oath and quickly shifted her body until her cheek was against his shoulder. Her face was ashen, and her breathing was slow and ragged, just as it had been yesterday.
“Bloody hell,” he said fiercely and jabbed his heel into Zeus’ side to send the horse into a full gallop.
As the stallion thundered toward the manor, Nicholas glanced down at Victoria’s pale features. She looked like someone on the brink of death, and the thought put the fear of God in him as he pulled Zeus to a sliding halt in front of the manor. He allowed Victoria to slump against the horse’s neck as he quickly dismounted. As his feet hit the ground, he winced as the force of the impact shot a pain up his leg.