by L. R. Olson
Would she admit that she had tried to talk her sister out of marrying me just yesterday? Guilty, she flushed and looked away. Apparently not. She had no compunction throwing everything into turmoil, yet would never accept responsibility for her actions. The woman frustrated me beyond all measure.
“What can we do to rectify the situation?” her mother said, sniffling as she attempted to hold back her tears. “Surely there must be something, Lord Whitfield?”
What could they do? Draw and quarter their eldest daughter would be a start. My hands curled into the arms of the chair. I started to stand, intending to leave them altogether and return to my moors an unattached man; I’d had enough. But in that moment all actions slowed. Everything became utterly clear. I knew what I could do to win, to beat Jules at her own game. It was rash. It was completely unlike me. I didn’t care. All that mattered was seeing her punished, destroyed.
“It’s really quite simple,” I replied, relaxing back into my chair with a smug determination coursing through my bones. I had not only inherited my father’s coldness, but also his ruthless nature. He would be proud. “If one sister refuses, the other will do.”
The entire room went silent, still. The only sound was the crackle of the fire. Once the words were out there was no regret. The loss of control and power I’d experienced since meeting Jules was slowly returning much like the awakening of spring after a cold winter. I felt the very devil and I savored the moment. The desperate need for revenge enflamed my soul.
Jules frowned in confusion, tearing her gaze from me to focus on her parents, looking for answers. I waited patiently for her to comprehend. Knew I would delight in seeing the shock and horror spread across her pretty face when she realized I had won.
Her mother clutched her shawl in front of her chest and shook her head, just as confused. “I don’t understand.”
But her father knew, for I could see his mind spinning, his rational need to reject such an offer warring with the absurd notion to accept. “Are you serious?”
“Quite. You will take your sister’s place, Julianna,” I said casually, as if it was completely normal and appropriate. “You will marry me.”
Her face lost all color. “No.”
What she said made no difference. I would win this game. This was between me and her parents. Parents who stood there looking horrified, confused, and yes…hopeful. “I want to speak to your daughter alone.”
Jules jumped to her feet.
Rafe shot me a glance, catching my attention for the briefest moment, his brows raised in question. He thought I was insane. It wasn’t the first time he’d believed it, nor would it be the last.
“It wouldn’t be proper,” her mother whispered, wringing her hands together in nervous agitation. “What would our guests think?”
Their guests could go to hell for all I cared. “What others think has never been any concern of mine, and I don’t plan on making it a priority now.”
Her mother’s lips parted in surprise.
Julianna’s father gripped his wife’s arm, a silent command to keep her mouth shut. He’d told me months ago that because of some unforeseen issues, the dowry would be much less than previously assumed. Of course I hadn’t cared. I had chosen Penny, and I would see it through. Besides, I didn’t need the money, but he obviously did.
“Of course you can speak with her,” the desperate man said. “We shall just be in the hall.”
Fortunately someone was practical in this blasted family. “The reverend is staying here?”
He nodded. Her father had already made up his mind. Jules was mine. The relief I felt was immediate and confusing. I told myself I merely wanted to punish her, but deep down I wondered if it was more. I couldn’t deny I was still attracted to the woman. Wanted her even now.
“Come, my dear,” Julianna’s father said.
I stood. “Wake the reverend.”
Her father tugged her mother from the room, as the older woman looked helplessly at her daughter. Jules continued to stare at me in horror, hoping to wake from this nightmare. The heavy weight of responsibility hung upon her shoulders. Would she save her family or herself? I wondered briefly why she hadn’t slapped me, why she wasn’t throwing a fit to rival any two year old. Oddly, she remained quiet, still, trapped, just as I’d wanted her.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Rafe asked as he moved by me.
I didn’t bother to look his way. “Yes.”
I’d never been surer of anything. Once the words were out, they seemed utterly right. Damnation, I didn’t just want to punish her. I wanted her. Wanted her with a desperation that fed my dark soul. The thought of anyone else marrying her, touching her, infuriated me.
“Very well.” With a sigh, Rafe left the room.
And I was glad to see him go. Finally alone, we were quiet for a few moments. Julianna merely stared up at me in shock, while I waited for the outburst I knew was to come. And as I waited for her to gather her thoughts, I took the time to study and admire her figure.
The urge to touch her overwhelmed me. The deep slope of her neckline showed off the soft, pale mounds of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a corset, that was obvious. The gentle whisper of loose locks brushed her delicate collarbone. The small, straight nose with the slightest tilt at the end. The pale cream of her skin. She was lovely, damn it all, and I wanted her even now. Soon. Soon she would belong to me.
“You…you can’t be serious, James,” she whispered, stumbling over her words in her haste to make me see reason. “You despise me and I you.”
I gave her a cool, thorough glance that left her blushing. She would never know how much she affected me. She would never know how I craved to taste her satin skin, how I lay awake at night dreaming of her lush body. “Absolutely serious.”
Her shock gave way to anger. Her hands fisted at her sides. “Good Lord, please tell me you don’t hate me so much you’re trying to punish me through marriage?”
Was I? Yes, at first. Did it matter? No. I wanted her. I’d set my mind to having her and I would. I might be punishing Jules, but I might as well claim the prize I deserved.
“This is what you’re going to do, my dear,” I said, impatient now that I knew what I wanted. “You’re going to stand in front of the reverend, marry me, and sign the documents with a smile.”
Her glare turned murderous. The contempt she felt for me was plain and obvious. “And if I don’t?”
The tension in my shoulders would not ease until we were bonded. Casually, I strolled toward the hearth, picked up the poker and stoked the flames. “I’ll sue your parents. Then I will ruin your family. That little scandal of yours, kissing Welch’s son in the garden, will be nothing compared to what I can do to you. And of course I’ll make sure they know that you talked Penny into leaving. In a word, I will destroy everything you have.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She believed me only too well. I turned to face her. “Then try it.”
Her lower lip quivered, tears swimming in her eyes. She fought her panic well. I wished I could have felt some sort of guilt, but one didn’t get what one wanted by feeling shame. Another lesson learned from my dear father.
“You are no gentleman.”
“I never claimed to be.” I looked away, for the first time slightly uneasy with my lack of compassion. Any other man would have felt something at the utter look of terror in her eyes. Had I been human once? Had I actually cared? I could barely remember. Hell, at least I was honest. “I’ve never made any pretense at being a decent, caring being, unlike you.”
Anger colored her cheeks. “I love my sister and I’m glad she escaped. I wouldn’t wish you upon my worst enemy.”
My own anger flared, even as attraction heated my blood. In two steps I stood in front of her. I hadn’t been this close to the woman in three months. Her sweet, feminine scent swirled around me, tempting and taunting and I realized my mistake in being near. My mind wasn’t my only enemy. My body reme
mbered every detail of our time together, every brush of her fingertips, every soft moan. I moved forward before she could realize my intention, before she had time to flee.
Without thought, I gripped her upper arms and jerked her toward me, crushing her lush body to mine. “Watch what you say, my dear. Pretty soon, under the eyes of the law, I will own you.”
Her breath came out in rapid pants. She wanted to slap me again. Would have if I hadn’t been gripping her arms to her sides. The defiance in her gaze made me want her even more, to prove that she wanted me as well.
“You will never own me,” she hissed.
“We shall see.”
I would have proven then and there how easy it would have been to seduce her, if the soft knock hadn’t sounded on the door. I didn’t respond, merely glared down at her. Hell, I wanted to push her away. Or maybe I wanted to kiss her. To shut her up and find pleasure in her body.
I could feel her heart pounding fiercely against mine. She was afraid, worried, but I could also see the attraction in her eyes. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. The relief I felt was immediate. As much as I despised her, I’d never been one to relish nor use force. I wanted my women willing. We would, at least, find common ground in bed. I would see to that.
The knock sounded again.
“Damnation,” I snapped, shoving her away from me, least I do something we would all regret. “Enter.”
The door opened. Her parents and Reverend Thomas walked inside, followed by Rafe. The reverend looked anything but pleased to see us standing so close. I knew he’d wanted Jules for his own, I’d seen the way the man greedily watched her. I should have let him have her merely to spite the woman. He could have crushed her soul, instead of leaving the task to me.
“Are you ready?” he asked coldly, gripping his bible to his chest as if to use it as a weapon should I dare try and attack the man.
Hell, perhaps Julianna’s parents thought I was some savior, but this reverend knew a dark soul when he saw one. He understood not to trust me. “Now.”
Jules went pale, her eyes wide with panic. “Now?”
“Now,” I snapped, growing impatient and annoyed.
“You can’t be serious!” her mother exclaimed. “She’s not dressed properly! We have guests. We have to plan—”
“Now,” I snapped. Did they not understand English? “We will be gone before the guests even wake.”
I could barely hear the reverend over her mother’s sobs. The older woman clung to her husband, knowing what they did was wrong. They were selling their daughter to save their hides. Rafe watched me warily from the side of the room, judging me and finding me lacking. And Jules merely stood there staring wide-eyed at the reverend, as if hoping the man could somehow save her. What a bloody way to start a marriage.
“Get on with it,” I snapped when the reverend continued to stand there muttering about how improper the spectacle would be, should we actually marry.
“Very well,” he muttered.
Latching onto Julianna’s arm, I jerked her against my side. The reverend took his place in front of us, the look of disgust upon his holy face obvious, and started his speech about the sanctity of marriage while her mother wailed in the background. It was so absurd I had the sudden desire to laugh.
She had used me. Trapped me. Destroyed everything I had planned.
But I, at last, had found my revenge.
Chapter 3
Julianna
I was married. Completely attached. I could hardly wrap my mind around the fact that three months after he had taken my innocence and left me destroyed, I was married to James, Lord Whitfield.
“We will stop every three hours for you to use the facilities and stretch your legs,” he had said as he led the way to his carriage only an hour after we had signed the papers as man and wife. My parents had hugged me tightly, his brother had offered a half-hearted congratulations. But I could merely stand there and stare at the papers, the damning evidence, our signatures: his bold and daring, mine shaky and weak.
“But…you can’t expect me to sit in a carriage for three days, not even stopping to stay overnight!”
He’d tossed my carpetbag to the waiting footman and pulled open the carriage door. “It will be only two, if we stop every three hours.”
He’d slammed the door shut, leaving me in the carriage alone while he rode his own mount ahead with his brother. I’d shoved aside the curtains and watched as my parents waved goodbye, watched as we turned a corner and the only home I’d ever known faded from view.
Day had fled and night had come. A full day of sitting in a carriage, being bumped and tossed about like a sack of potatoes, and with as much consideration. It was a fine carriage, but even a plush carriage with velvet lining had its limits, and at the speed we were traveling, it did not make for smooth sailing, so to speak.
Hours inside the coach had given me plenty of time to think…but mostly to worry. By law, James owned me. He had the ability to use me, to shame me, to abuse me. Searching his dark eyes during the ceremony, I’d hoped to find some sort of softening, a spark of conscience. There had been none. He hated me.
Another day and we would be home and then…then he could do with me what he wanted. He could take me as many times as he wished, no one would stop him. It was his right. The thought terrified me…yes. But I couldn’t deny the curl of aching need that twisted through my body at the thought of his lips on mine. His body naked and straining atop me… Our one and only time together had left me desperate for more.
I hadn’t seen James since we’d left my parents. An entire day had come and gone, and I had yet to hear a word from my husband. Could he not stand the thought of being near me? Would he rather ride on an uncomfortable mount for two days rather than be in a carriage with his own wife? Apparently so. And that was bleeding fine by me.
I flicked aside the curtains, but the land was dark. There was nothing to see. Was he riding ahead? It was hard to tell. When the carriage dutifully stopped every three hours it was a footman or two who escorted me into the inn. Footmen who would buy my meals. Meals I was forced to eat either alone in the pub, or in the bumpy carriage.
I glanced at the small watch pinned to my cloak. A parting gift from my mother. A pin that had been her mother’s. She had kissed me, said she loved me, and told me that I was doing what was best given the circumstances. Then she was gone. How could I argue with her comment, knowing the dire straits in which my parents found themselves? I didn’t start crying until my father had hugged me, knowing that if his affliction was worse than the doctors assumed, I might never see him again.
When James saw me crying he said not a word, merely gripped my elbow and led me from the house, from everything I’d ever known. Callous. Uncaring. The moment we stepped outside he dropped his hand and did not touch me again. I knew he’d eventually have to deal with me, if he wanted children. I wondered, as I shifted on my seat to alleviate the ache in my back, how I would stand it when he did. Oh, the thought didn’t disgust me. No. Unfortunately, I worried I’d like it entirely too much.
Why? Why had he forced marriage when he hated me? It made no sense.
With a sigh, I rested my legs upon the seat opposite of me. It was dark, cold. There were no warmers or blankets. The footmen hadn’t even bothered to light the lamps. But worst of all, I was bloody bored. I hadn’t thought to bring a book, for I’d been so rushed I hadn’t had time to think of much of anything. I had my drawing pad and charcoals; I rarely left without them. But when I’d found myself drawing James for the fifth time, as if my hands had a mind of their own, I’d given up. Even writing to Cecilia had been beyond my capability. How could I possibly explain what had happened in the last twenty-four hours in a mere letter?
I shifted once again, trying to get comfortable. And so I was left to deal with the incredible boredom of someone with nothing to do, and too much to think about. Father had pressed a purse of coins into my hands before we’d left, but during our stops I�
�d had no time to purchase anything. The footmen had rushed me inside the pub, and rushed me back out.
The sudden thump of wheels over cobbled streets caught me by surprise. I brushed aside the curtain. Sure enough we’d entered a small village and ahead I could see a comfortable looking inn ablaze with warm light. I picked up the watch pinned to my cloak. I still had another hour before we were allowed to stop. My stomach grumbled. My anger seethed.
“Blast you, James!”
Our last stop had been at an inn that looked less than reputable. I’d been forced to not only use their facilities, but drink their watered down ale while the inn keeper had leered at me from the dingy corner of the room. The food had appeared so undesirable that I’d barely eaten. Of course there was no one to complain to as James hadn’t bothered to check on me. But I would no longer be ignored.
Unable to stop myself, I pounded on the roof. “There. Done.”
Feeling rather smug, I settled back and waited. Nothing happened. The blasted coach didn’t even slow. With a growl, I lifted off my seat and pounded again. Nothing. Ignored even by the servants. How would I run a household if they didn’t respect me?
My anger boiled. I tore the curtain aside and leaned out the window. “If you do not stop, I will throw myself from this carriage, I do not jest, sir!”
The vehicle came to a shuddering stop.
I shoved open the door and stumbled outside. Silly move. I had to cling to the door, for my legs had grown numb and useless. Our five minute stops every three hours were doing nothing to restore my strength. If I fainted would James even care? Doubtful, he’d merely have a footman toss me back into the carriage and continue on.
“My lady,” the driver jumped from his post, the footmen with him, peeking at me from atop the carriage. I shifted my gaze back toward the driver. He didn’t look the sympathetic sort. If anything he looked much too arrogant and lofty for my liking. “Lord Whitfield said no stopping until he demanded it!”
“Yes,” I said, pulling on my gloves and glancing toward the front of the carriage. “But he’s not here, is he?”