“Very strange. It’s as if he’s fallen off the earth. Or maybe moved on?” She sounded too hopeful.
“I doubt that. He went to a lot of effort to write all those letters and to follow you to London.” He didn’t want to frighten her, but he also didn’t want her thinking that all was well enough to let her guard down. He had a feeling that was exactly what this person was waiting for, and that was when they needed to be most diligent.
Her shoulders drooped and she rubbed her brows. “I just want this over with. I’m tired of being a prisoner, and I’m sure you and your mother would like your privacy back.”
“Don’t even think that.”
She looked up at him in surprise, and he realized he’d spoken too harshly, but the thought of Sara not being here when he came home left his heart heavy.
“Forgive me,” she said hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to anger you.”
“Ah, Sara.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t anger me. I just don’t want you to leave.”
“I have to at some point, Ross. I can’t live here forever.”
A long silence passed while he contemplated what to say. He wanted to do this right, but he didn’t know what right was. When he’d proposed to Meredith, he’d worked it all out with her father first, but he didn’t want to do that with Sara. He wanted it to be their decision, and yet he hesitated because he didn’t know her feelings toward him. Oh, he knew she liked him well enough and that when they kissed she was overcome with passion for him, but was that enough to last a lifetime?
“Why not?” he finally said, settling on the bold truth, which he knew she would appreciate.
Her eyes widened. “Why not what?”
“Why can’t you live here forever?”
“Because it’s not done. People will talk and gossip.”
“Not if we make it legal.”
Her lips parted and she stared at him for the longest time. “I don’t…What do you mean?”
Suddenly, the Duke of Rossmoyne lost all of his confidence. He’d never felt so unsure of anything in his life. He was certain of his feelings for her and what he wanted with her. His insecurities lay with Sara. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he laid it all on the line and she rejected him.
He swept his hand toward her papers. “This project of yours would be much easier if you had the power of the dukedom behind you.”
Her eyes flickered to the papers, then back to him. “You already said you would help me, and I appreciate any help you can give me.”
“But if you were to become the Duchess of Rossmoyne, many more doors would be open to you.” He held his breath as he watched so many emotions cross her face. He fastened his hope upon the joy that came first and tried to ignore the panic that chased it away.
“Sara!”
Sara jerked her gaze to the woman who swept through the drawing room doors. She stood suddenly, her chair nearly tipping over. “Mother?”
Ross groaned and closed his eyes. Why now? Why would her mother arrive now, when his very life hung in the balance?
Sara looked at him in alarm as her mother hurried across the room to envelop Sara in a hug. “Oh, Sara, I have missed you so.”
Sara looked at him over her mother’s shoulder and shook her head slightly. He wasn’t certain what she was trying to tell him, but he nodded anyway.
She extricated herself from her mother’s grasp and stepped back. “Mother, what are you doing here?”
“I heard you were in town, and I knew I had to come see you. Oh…” Lady Carolina Grandview finally noticed Ross standing there. She executed a quick curtsy. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“Lady Grandview. It is good to see you again.” He didn’t miss her hesitation, nor the grief that flashed across her face. Once again his guilt dug its ugly claws into him. Would he ever be finished with this? Will he ever feel as if he had not let this family down?
“Mother.” Sara took her mother’s hand. “I’m surprised that you’re here. You rarely come to London.”
“Don’t be silly, I come to London occasionally.”
“You do? I didn’t know,” Sara murmured, and Ross could tell she was not pleased to learn this.
“Because you are always in the country. If you came to town more, you would know,” Lady Grandview said in censure.
Sara pressed her lips together. “Someone has to stay with Father.”
Ross had to smile when Lady Grandview’s expression mirrored what Meredith’s might have been. Lady Grandview resembled her daughter to an almost alarming degree. She was an older, watered-down version, but there was definitely Meredith in her.
“Your father is more than capable of taking care of himself,” Lady Grandview said.
Sara quickly looked at Ross, and he knew that if he had not been standing there, she would have said more. He wanted to tell her not to mind him and to carry on, but he refrained, even though he desperately wanted to know what she would have said.
“Nevertheless,” Sara said instead. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been far too long.”
“You are more than welcome to stay with me in Bath,” Lady Grandview said as she settled into a chair and fluffed out her skirts. There was disapproval in her tone, and Ross wondered where the breach in their relationship lay. Sara had made it seem like her mother had abandoned her family, but apparently, Sara was not blameless.
Sara’s jaw worked and her eyes flashed, but her mother wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see the telltale warning.
“So,” Lady Grandview said after her skirts were to her liking, “what are you doing in London, and why are you staying with the duke and his mother?”
Sara swallowed as she sank into a chair and folded her hands into her lap. Ross made his way to the fireplace and leaned against it, interested in hearing her answer. He would take his cue from her.
“Just visiting,” she said weakly and not at all convincingly, flickering a glance at Ross in a clear plea for help.
“When I heard she was in town, I invited her to stay here,” he said. “No use opening up your townhouse for the little time she said she would be here. Besides, we were practically family at one time, and I still consider you and Lord Grandview family.” He would like to consider them family for other reasons but wisely kept his mouth shut on that.
Lady Grandview looked at him steadily, as if not quite ready to believe him. “That’s very kind of you,” she said. “But now that I am in town and have opened the house, Sara will stay with me.” She leveled him a challenging look.
While he wanted to argue with her, he merely tipped his head in quiet acceptance, though he was far from accepting. He looked at Sara in warning. There was no way he was letting her leave his protection, but he would not reveal the real purpose of why she was residing here. By the desperate looks she was tossing him, he gathered she didn’t want her mother to know about the letters.
He narrowed his eyes at Sara. Tell her.
Sara quickly shook her head and turned to her mother with a smile.
Angry and fearful because he knew her mother would win in this and take Sara away from him, Ross pushed away from the wall. “I will inform my mother that you are here, Lady Grandview. And I will have someone bring some refreshments.”
Sara’s nervous gaze followed him as he left the drawing room. It took him a few moments to calm himself before he went in search of his mother.
Chapter 29
Sara’s bedmate was the feeling of doom that had descended on her the moment her mother swept into the drawing room.
Really?
Her mother?
She wanted to close her eyes and wish for the day to repeat itself sans her mother. She didn’t want her mother knowing about the letters, and she could kiss Ross’s fingers for coming to her rescue. Her mind had gone alarmingly blank when Lady Grandview had asked why Sara was at Rossmoyne House. However, she wasn’t certain how she would cover the lie that she and Elizabeth had told everyone of the renov
ations at their townhouse. Oh, this was getting more and more complicated.
And then there was the frustrating fact that she and Ross had been about to have a very important discussion when they were interrupted. What had Ross been trying to say?
She stared up at the ceiling, where candlelight played its shadows. Certainly, the Duke of Rossmoyne had not been about to propose. Their friendship was not like that. He thought of her as an obligation. A way to assuage his guilt over Meredith’s death. Yes, they had shared some amazing kisses, but did that lead to marriage?
No. She was certain that plenty of people kissed and didn’t end up married.
Besides, the thought of becoming the Duchess of Rossmoyne was terrifying. It was not something she wanted in her life—to be the center of attention at societal events. To be forced to go to societal events.
No. That was definitely not her.
And yet hadn’t she been miserable the last few days when she hadn’t seen Ross?
Surely it was just a girlish infatuation.
He didn’t feel the same way about quiet Sara, who flubbed social occasions.
But none of that mattered, because her mother was going to make sure that Sara and Ross were never alone again. She had made it clear that Sara would return to the townhouse with her. That she wasn’t there yet was a miracle in itself. Sara had bought some time by claiming that she couldn’t possibly pack on such short notice. Tomorrow would be soon enough.
Her mother had not been happy. In fact, her mother had not been happy to discover that Sara was here at all. She couldn’t understand why Sara would choose to stay with the Rossmoynes rather than at her own home.
A soft knock sounded on the door, making Sara jump and scoot up in bed. She had sent Jenny to bed a long time ago because she knew her mother would have Jenny up early to begin packing.
Good Lord, she hoped it wasn’t her mother on the other side of that door. She didn’t want to talk right now. It was hard enough sidestepping the direct questions. It had worn Sara out. “Come in,” she said hesitantly.
The door opened and Ross stepped in quickly, shutting the door behind him just as quickly.
“Ross!” Sara squeaked, sliding down into the bed and pulling the covers over her chest. She was in her nightgown. Not that he hadn’t seen her in her nightgown before. There was that one night in the study, after all. She quickly pushed those memories away. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.
He pressed his back against the door; he looked sheepish. “I thought you would never ask me in. I feared someone would come across me standing outside your door. That would have been bad.”
“What will be even worse is if someone finds you in my room in the middle of the night. You can’t be here.”
He looked at her from across the room, and her body warmed in ways that were not good. Well, they were good, but not good.
“I have a feeling that the only way we’re going to be able to talk alone is if I sneak into your room.”
He was right. Her mother’s presence changed everything and she hated that.
“I can’t stay here any longer. Mother has already opened the townhouse, and that was our excuse for my being here,” she said.
“I know.” He seemed sad about that. Would he miss her as much as she missed him?
“We’re in my bedchamber.” It seemed important to remind him of that.
Somehow he had moved closer. Sara felt far too vulnerable lying in bed with Ross just a few feet away.
“I know.” His eyes darkened and his gaze raked across her body. Her supine body.
Feeling at a disadvantage, she slid out of bed, careful to pull the blanket along with her. Ross watched her with a dark, hungry look that made her knees tremble.
There was nothing between them but a very large bed and not nearly enough clothes. And while she should be outraged, she was more intrigued. This was bad. Very bad. And yet her muddled mind fought the urge to get closer to him, to drop the blanket and sashay over there and press her body to his. Oh, that was wickedly bad and yet so tempting. He made her think things she never would have thought before. He made her want things she’d never dreamed existed.
He was watching her in a way that made her body tremble. She couldn’t take her eyes off his, couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe. The ache inside her was overwhelming, and as naive as she was about some things, she knew that only Ross could make it go away.
He stepped closer, as if drawn to her to by some invisible force. “I want you,” he whispered. “God help me, but I want you.”
She had nothing to say to that other than she wanted him just as much, if not more.
“I didn’t come here for that,” he said, taking another step that had him rounding the bed. There were three, maybe four steps between them. Too much distance, in her opinion.
“I came to talk to you, but the words have somehow escaped me.” Another step. Three more to go. “You do that to me, Sara. You rob me of my words and my good thought. You take over my brain until there is nothing but you.”
The last three steps were covered in two great strides. He was standing before her, and she was looking up at him. His gaze devoured her. His mouth was drawn tight, and he seemed to be trembling almost as much as she was.
“Say something,” he commanded.
“Don’t leave.” Don’t leave me like this. Don’t leave me wanting you so desperately. Don’t leave me in this agonizing need. She wanted to say all of that but managed to utter only the two words.
“Ah, God.” He lowered his head and kissed her. Nothing touched but their lips, and yet it set her body on fire. With a strangled cry that was swallowed up by his mouth, Sara dropped the blanket, letting it pool on the floor.
He grasped her shoulders and she was happy for the support, since she wasn’t certain her legs could hold her up much longer. She leaned in to him until her unbound breasts rubbed against him, causing her to gasp at the pleasure that shot through her. If it felt that wonderful, what would happen if he actually touched them?
The thought had her head spinning.
With a groan, Ross dragged her to him, wrapping his arms around her until she was pinned against his hard, strong body. He was holding her up now. There was no denying that she’d lost all sense of balance. Her head swam as she kissed him back.
Ross kissed her neck. Sara never knew anything could feel so wonderful. It was only a neck, a device to hold her head up, but when he kissed her there, she swore she was about to pass out from the feelings he evoked.
And then he moved farther down. She could not help that her head fell back, that the muscles in her neck had completely stopped working. He moved lower, then lower still, until his lips were parting her nightgown without her ever knowing he had untied the prim little bow at her throat.
He pushed the nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. A small part of her woke up, the part of her that had been educated over and over to never let a man touch her there. She made a move to cover her breasts with her arms, but her arms would not move, and then his mouth was on her breast and every thought, every lesson she’d learned about being a proper lady, fled in the face of such exquisite longing and need. Oh, the need was unbearable. Her body was doing things she’d never heard of, and she realized right then that her lessons had been grossly inadequate. Why had she never learned of this?
Something was happening in that very private place between her legs. She felt swollen and uncomfortable. “Please.”
Slowly, Ross lowered her to the bed. The bed was good. Here she didn’t have to worry about falling over.
He hovered over her, the candles casting him in shadows. He ran his hands through her hair, his eyes following the movements. “Your hair is beautiful,” he said softly.
“It’s brown.” Where that came from she didn’t know, but she’d never been comfortable receiving compliments, since most of them were insincere. Some people felt that if they complimented Meredith, then they
must find something to compliment on Sara.
“It’s still beautiful,” he said.
She pressed her lips together because she didn’t want to argue now about her plain brown hair.
“You do know you’re beautiful, don’t you?” His gaze pierced hers, very serious and very intent.
She turned her head away and bit her bottom lip.
“Sara. Look at me.” Gently, he touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You are beautiful.”
She wasn’t, but she also wasn’t going to contradict him.
He looked down on her for a very long time, then with a sigh he kissed her again, fisting his hands in her hair. His chest pressed against her and those tingling shocks returned.
Touch me, she wanted to beg.
He must have sensed her need, for his hand cupped her breast and she arched her back, nearly coming off the bed and flipping him off her.
He smiled against her lips and chuckled. “Like that, do you?”
She nodded, at a loss for words. One kiss from Ross and she was rendered mute.
“If you liked that, I can almost guarantee you will like this.” Slowly, he raised her nightgown until her legs were bare. The cool air brushed across her heated skin. There had been many times she’d taken off her nightgown and her legs had been cold, but none of those times had made her feel like this.
His fingers trailed the hem of the nightgown. Their gazes were locked, but her mind was picturing his fingers. They were coming far too close to…
“Oh,” she breathed when they brushed across the curls between her legs. She lifted her hips, silently begging for more. He was close, but not quite where she wanted him to be.
Suddenly, his fingers disappeared and he slid down her body. The friction made everything so much worse. Every part of her tingled with a need so fierce it was all she could think about.
All at once his lips were where his fingers had been.
Sara’s eyes flew open and she grabbed handfuls of his hair, trying to pull him back up. “Ross! What are you doing?”
Gently, he pried her fingers from his scalp and held her hands with his as his tongue found a spot…
The Reluctant Duchess Page 20