A Scorching Dilemma

by Shereen Vedam

  Later, spent, he lay back on the bed and Faith’s shoulders dropped their tense stance. Now, they must wait for his body to heal. She returned to his study and wrote a note of thanks to Sir Phillip, and then one to Monsieur Orfila.

  According to the inscription on his book, Monsieur Orfila currently resided in London. In her note, she informed him of the initial poisonous ingestion and their subsequent actions and asked for any advice or assistance he might render her father, from this point on, to speed the duke’s recovery.

  Only after sending footmen to deliver the missives did she allow herself the luxury of returning to her quarters. She climbed the stairs with heavy steps, entered her sitting room, and slumped into a chair. The sun rested low on the horizon, its golden shafts slanting in through the lacy curtains. The day was almost over. The Burleys had successfully staved off yet another assault. But what was to prevent the Duchess of Morton from trying again? How would they fare the next time?

  Perhaps she should ask for Sir Phillip’s help. But she did not have the strength to do it right now. That request could wait until morn. Faith was contemplating seeking her bed when fierce whispering from outside her door caught her attention. She rested her head on her chair, too tired to find out what the girls argued about.

  “Let her rest.” Was that Ann? “This can wait.”

  “You took the credit for saving the master,” her maid Elsie said in an angry undertone. “This time, I mean to win her favor by passing on this bit of news.”

  “You do not realize the harm you may cause in that telling!”

  “Shut up and go away. You do not belong upstairs.”

  A thump followed, as if someone had been pushed against a wall.

  Faith rolled her eyes. Just what she needed to end this horrible day—a fight outside her room between two maids. With a sigh, she walked over and opened the door. “What is it, Elsie?”

  Startled, her maid curtsied while Ann moved away from the wall from where she had obviously been pushed.

  “My lady,” Elsie said.

  “She looks tired, Elsie,” Ann said.

  A tightness constricted Faith’s chest. Had Sir Phillip sent more news about the poisoning? This time bad news? “Is this to do with my father? If so, tell me now.”

  “The duke is well, my lady, and resting,” Ann said.

  “Good.” Relief coursed through Faith, leaving her weak-kneed. She rested her hand on the door to steady herself. “What has upset both of you?”

  Elsie pushed Ann aside and stepped forward. “We have heard troubling news belowstairs, my lady.”

  “That can keep,” Ann said from behind the girl’s shoulder. “Idle servant’s gossip, my lady. Nothing to trouble yourself with. You should go to bed and rest.”

  “But it is important.” Elsie stood firm as Ann tried to drag her away. “You would want to know, I am sure of it.”

  “You have my attention, Elsie.” What could be worse than the strain Faith and her family had undergone these last few days?

  “It is about that man,” Elsie said in a rush and stepped into the doorway, “the one who brought you home yesterday.”

  Faith stiffened. Daniel? But he was safe.

  He had to be safe!

  Ann had an expression of mixed frustration and pity, which frightened Faith more than Elsie’s words.

  “Oh, my lady, they say he died today,” Elsie said in a tearful voice.

  Time slowed. Died? The girl made no sense. “You are mistaken.”

  Elsie spoke rapidly, her horrifying words spilling out like a sewer overflowing. “They say he received a box of sweets from you and when he ate one, he keeled over, just like the master, only no one was there to save him. The procession through the streets is starting right now. He is to be buried at St. Michael’s on Crooked Lane, as ordered by Lady Roselyn, herself.”

  A high-pitched hum sounded in Faith’s ears and her body went ice-cold. “Leave me.”

  “But my lady,” Ann said, “you do not understand.”

  “Leave me!”

  Unlike Ann who refused to budge, Elsie wisely backed away, stumbling over the other girl who barely managed to get out of the way as Faith slammed the door shut.

  She wrapped her arms tight around her trembling body, afraid she would fall apart if she did not hold firm. Her mind rebelled against the thought of a world without Daniel.

  She shook her head. No. This could not be happening. Granger and his mother could not have won. Daniel would not have allowed them to win. The pain of his rejection paled next to this total devastation.

  How dare he die!

  Anger built, threatening to consume her. She let out a scream and, grabbing the nearest object, she flung it across the room. The delicate oriental vase collided with the wall and shattered.

  How could he leave her to face this horror of a life alone? How dare he squander their last moments together by pushing her away?

  Books followed the vase. Then a lamp and chair. Faith covered her face and slid to the floor, her body shaking as memories flooded in. His tenderness with the kitten he had saved at her pleading. His courage in allowing her to teach him to swim despite his obvious terror of water. The tender kisses they had shared. Then his racing across the countryside to her rescue.

  All the tears she had held back this day in order to care for her father poured out, as if a dam had cracked. The candles burned on and, outside her window, twilight slowly gave way to darkness.

  She lay curled on the floor, shivering. Then someone settled behind her and drew her close, cuddling her against a strong chest. The gentleness of that hold spoke of one man. He rocked and kissed her.

  Did she dream? Then she caught a whiff of his scent, musky, sharp, and slightly smoky.

  “I am sorry, my love,” he whispered, peppering her wet cheeks with kisses. “I wanted to tell you the news myself.”

  “That you had died?” Her throat felt as dry as tinder. “Are you a ghost?”

  He chuckled, the sound tickling her insides and kindling a warm fire that settled her nerves.

  “Do you believe in such things?” His deep voice resonated with an earnest inquiry.

  She twisted around and opened her eyes.

  He looked like Daniel.

  She touched his lean cheek, sliding a finger over that smooth autocratic nose, and feathering her thumb over his lips. He held her close, and from every part of her that pressed against him, warmth infused her.

  Faith rested her forehead on his shoulder and wrapped her arms tight about him. She no longer cared if this was a dream. She savored the trail of his kisses over her wet eyelids, sweeping down her face, and tormenting the side of her neck.

  She turned her face up for a kiss. He felt real. Her tentative nibbling at his lips seemed to inflame him and he deepened his kiss, claiming her. Could a dream be so warm and delicious? Breathless, she whispered, “For a ghost, sir, you feel most solid.”

  Another enchanting chuckle rumbled up from deep inside him. He tried to claim another heart-crushing kiss, but she held him back with a firm hand on his chest.

  This encounter was going far too well for him, considering the misery he had just put her through. They had to get one thing clear before he stole any more kisses. “Alive or dead, ghost or real, you will not marry Miss Wood.”

  “No, my love.” The tips of his mouth lifted as if her reprimand amused him.

  “And you will admit that you love only me.”

  “I do, with all my heart.”

  His sincerity mollified her a little. “Nor will you ever lie to me about forgetting the color of my eyes.” The words came out more breathless than firm.

  “The most beautiful emeralds in the world.” He proceeded to pay homage by kissing her damp lashes as he drew her to him.

>   A heated sensation sparked within her body as one of his hands evocatively advanced up her ribcage while the other slid indecently low down her back, causing sensible thoughts to flee.

  Faith gave him what she hoped was a look of severe reprimand, though she suspected it came out drenched in a pleading for more of this torturous touching. “And you shall not die again.”

  “Not until I am old and gray and you have tired of me,” he said, his eyes intent on her bosom, before his teeth and tongue wreaked havoc on her fevered flesh.

  She shuddered as sweet desire coursed through her. She clutched at his soft black hair. When she thought she could not stand another moment of this torment, he lifted his head and drew back.

  Wearing that roguish smile that she loved so dearly, he took in the shambles of her room. “Besides, now that I know you better, I doubt I shall have the courage to defy you again.”

  “You find my temper humorous?” she asked, wanting to sound calm, as if he had not taken her to the edge of heaven and abruptly left her standing alone. To show she could leave their lovemaking as easily as he did, she pulled away. “My hair color notwithstanding, I am at most times quite even-tempered. At least, until I met you.”

  Daniel tugged her back into place. “I like your blazing temper. It matches my talent for starting fires.”

  The compliment and his possessive hold assuaged her irritation. Faith relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder. There was so much about this man that she still did not know.

  “Is that one of your duties, Daniel? Do you start the fires in the house? It is rather an odd chore for a butler.” She hid her playful smile against his neck and murmured with feigned concern, “If it will make you feel more at home, you may take over that role here as well. And no doubt with our chambermaid’s blessing, for I do not think she likes waking up before dawn every morning to tend to the hearths.”

  She kissed the underside of his chin, finding it firm and tasting delightfully of his essence. But he did not smile at her teasing. In fact, he had become quite serious. “I only jest, Daniel. I did not mean to make light of your duties.”

  He tugged her gown into place and set her back. When had it come askew?

  Without his warmth, she shivered. She would have moved in again but he held his hands up between them, his palms facing her.

  Frowning, she matched her fingers against his, noting how small her hands were in comparison. His strong tapered fingers ended with dark smudged tips. “Ah, now I see why you always smell slightly singed.”

  “Move your hands back,” Daniel said.

  She glanced at him in surprise before she pulled away.

  He gazed at her and then his hands burst into flames.

  Faith, instinctively jumped back and shouted in alarm.

  “Be calm,” Daniel said. As quickly as his fingers had flared, they returned to normal, looking blacker than before.

  She reached out and tentatively touched his hands. They were warm, but beneath the smudges, his skin was a normal pink. “How could that be?”

  “We are shifters.”

  We?

  “The Rue Alliance,” he said. “We are shifters.”

  He spoke about his alliance. The association he and Miss Wood had in common.

  “Shifters,” Faith repeated the word with wonder, digesting the term’s odd flavor. “Can these other members of your alliance ignite fires with their hands too?”

  He shook his head. “No, that is my particular talent. Lady Roselyn can change her features to appear as another. Miss Wood is able to alter her sight so she no longer needs spectacles.”

  Even above the strangeness of his astonishing disclosure, Faith could not help being concerned about something altogether different. Miss Wood, and the other woman Daniel had loved, Lady Roselyn, had this in common. It was something she could never compete with, for she was not special at all.

  “Sir Phillip, too?” she asked in a soft voice, dropping her head so that she no longer had to meet his searching gaze.

  “He is as you are,” Daniel said. “His admittance into our circle is the result of his love for Lady Roselyn.”

  Faith snapped her head back up. “He has no talent to do this ‘shift’?” Her blood pounded with hope. “And you still allow him to be part of your alliance?”

  Daniel nodded, obviously confused by her line of questioning. “Do you not want to know more about who we are?”

  She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, laughing. “It only matters that I can belong with you.”

  Daniel held her tight. “You are the most amazing woman, Faith.” They stayed like that for a moment and then he said, “We should talk about what happened to your father.”

  Had that happened today? She reluctantly leaned away, and under his gentle prodding, told him of the horrifying event. After she finished, she asked, “Now tell me why my maids believe that you are dead.”

  She listened intently and then with astonishment as he spoke about his plans to lay claim to the Duke of Morton’s title. The missing heir story fascinated her. She ran her fingers across his lean cheek with wonder. “You are that lost child?”

  Daniel shrugged. “Very likely. We have no proof, so do not raise your hopes too high.”

  “As long as you are with me,” Faith said, “I have no further need for hope.”

  He chuckled, and she kissed him into silence.

  Coming up for air, she shuddered, thinking of that poor battered child left floating in the river. No wonder Daniel was afraid of water. Then to be rescued, only to find himself used as no more than a slave. He must have been so frightened, not remembering who he was. And if that was not bad enough, the abominable family that found him eventually abandoned him, like some unwanted encumbrance, at the door of a London workhouse.

  Faith was determined that Daniel would never again feel unloved. “Daniel.”

  “Hmmm?” He was intent on an ardent exploration of her throat. His caresses made it difficult for her to think, but she could not risk losing him again. Feeling bold, she broached a delicate subject. “Daniel, may we marry?”

  The question seemed to startle him, but he returned to his kisses, murmuring, “Yes,” and then added a satisfyingly passionate, “and it had better be soon.”

  Faith wanted more. She needed to be sure of his intentions. After his painful rejection of her on the North Road, she intended to leave no loophole through which she might lose him. “What if you cannot prove who you are?”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. “You are mine, forever, Faith. We will find a way to make our situation tolerable. Sir Phillip and Lady Roselyn will help.”

  That was just what she needed to hear, and her heart rejoiced in victory. This was how she viewed their situation all along but was thrilled to hear that Daniel finally agreed. “What changed your mind?”

  He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Faith, I should never have rejected your love. I learned that after receiving those poisoned sweets. They could as easily have been sent to you. We cannot predict the future.” He edged closer. “We only have this moment and it is too precious to lose.”

  He lifted her in his arms, and she whooped in surprise as he carried her across the room and gently stood her on her feet beside the bed. Then he reached around her to loosen the ties in back of her gown.

  Faith held her breath, absorbing the heat of his presence, trembling at the intimacy of him unclothing her, and when his fingers touched the skin of her back, a shudder ran down her spine.

  With hardly any effort, his hands slid her gown off until it pooled about her feet. Then the shift sailed over her head.

  She was stunned by his efficiency and the speed of his movements. She gasped, spellbound by the way his gaze roved with abandon over her intimate areas. Her heart rac
ed at the wicked intention blazing in his gaze as he paused to study the strawberry birthmark above her left breast. Her whole body heated and moistened and awakened in answer to that look.

  His desire was as clear now as it had been when they were in the lake. This time, though, it was he who was pulling her into dangerous straits.

  After laying her on the bed, she had expected him to devour every inch of skin he had explored with his ravenous eyes, but he stood back from the bed and began to untie his cravat.

  She rested her head on her fist and observed him.

  His provocative gaze never leaving hers, he flung the long white cloth away. It landed by the open door of her sitting room, partially covering the remnants of a cracked vase. His dark jacket followed, obliterating the porcelain from view.

  She had seen Daniel disrobe once before. But now, he was pulling off his boots with enthusiasm instead of dread. When his hands went to undo his breeches, she suddenly found it hard to breathe. And then he drew her into his arms, and she forgot to think altogether.

  HOURS LATER, FAITH awoke and stretched, reveling in the pleasure and pain her body had endured. She no longer had any doubt that from this night forward, Daniel Trenton was completely committed to her.

  She reached for him, but he was no longer beside her. She sat up with a sense of loss and searched the darkened room. The candles had long since burnt out, but moonlight streamed through the window to outline Daniel’s lean, lithe figure in enchanting detail. He was collecting his scattered clothing. This evening, in between kisses, he had told her about his appointment with Sir Phillip at midnight. The two men planned to search the Morton estate. Daniel had been concerned that Morton’s mother had dogs roaming the place now, but Faith had an idea. She slipped out of bed and shrugged on her robe and slippers.

  “Where are you going?” Daniel hurried over to her, wearing no more than his breeches and a concerned frown.

  “I will not be long. I wish to fetch a present for you from my father.” She kissed him before he could protest and hurried away.

  As the door shut behind her, she heard him whisper, “Faith, Sir Phillip hates to be kept waiting!”