by Gill, Tamara
What was she going to do? The one hundred and fifty pounds this dig was to be paid to her had been allocated to unpaid debts and stabilizing her and her son’s future. She had wanted to purchase some new things for her son and help pay her cousin for his welfare for the past few years. The money was her safety and security when without work. To have to give it away to Mr. Stewart simply because she was involved in his cousin’s reign of madness was in itself insanity.
Hallie slumped down on a settee in an unoccupied room, staring at the unlit hearth before her. He would ruin her, that she had no doubt. The hatred she read in his cold eyes was proof of that. To anyone looking at them they would not have seen his hidden loathing of her, but it was there, masked beneath a smiling mouth and charming voice.
Bastard.
She sniffed and dabbed at her face. How was it that men like Mr. Stewart even existed? She doubted he would try such a scheme with a gentleman. No, he only targeted women. Women like her who had a lot to lose and who had no family, no brother to defend them.
“Hallie?”
She jumped and turned to see Lord Duncannon standing at the door, the light from the hall behind him illuminating him but leaving his features too dark to read.
“Can I help you, my lord?” she asked, turning to look back at the hearth, not wanting him to see her upset.
“I saw you with Mr. Stewart and you appeared upset by his conversation. I wanted to ensure he has not injured you in any way.”
She shut her eyes in part exasperation that Lord Duncannon was aware of her enough to know when she was injured and part pleasure that he cared enough to see if she were well. “Mr. Stewart was simply being a man. No need to worry about me, my lord. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.” She sighed. Of course by paying Mr. Stewart her salary, she would keep his mouth closed for some months, or at least until she found further employment and then his threats would start again. How long did he plan on keeping this threat over her head?
Forever, probably. Who would not keep asking for funds and therefore not have to work themselves? A great many people she would imagine.
Lord Duncannon came into the room, shutting the door behind him before sitting beside her. She hoped that he could not see that she’d been crying or he would know she had lied and he could then possibly make a scene with Mr. Stewart when not knowing all the facts. There was no knowing what the man was capable of if threatened. He would more than likely shout out to all who were present that she had slept with an Egyptian general and had his child out of wedlock.
“You’re upset,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward him.
How had he known? The man must have night vision to have seen that she’d been crying. His presence overwhelmed her, tempting her to lean into his warmth and care. To stay there forever.
“Nothing of concern, my lord. Please do not pry,” she said, hoping he would let the subject drop.
“Hallie,” he pleaded, reaching up and clasping her jaw, turning her to face him. “You would tell me if something was wrong. You know that I would help you with anything. I do not like to see you distressed.”
She pulled her jaw free of his hand. His touch made her want things that she should not. Things that in the past now placed her in the predicament she now faced. The man was trouble, but in a completely different manner to what trouble Mr. Stewart brought her. One night in his arms was starting to be very difficult to deny herself, especially when to escape into that dream could remove her from the nightmare that Mr. Stewart made her live in.
“I’m tired, that is all, my lord. I think I shall retire for the night.” She went to stand and he stayed her by touching her arm.
“Must you go? I’ve not seen you today. Lord Bankes asked me to ride out with him to his tenant farms and view some of his land. I could not refuse.”
“There are more eligible and suitable women in the drawing room, Lord Duncannon. It confuses me still as to why you would waste your time with me. We do not suit.” The memory of Arthur in her bed that night in Surrey bombarded her mind. She supposed that they did not suit was not entirely true. They did suit very well when thrown together in such circumstances. But the idea of forever, well, that was an absurdity that she could not let herself believe in.
His touch the other day at the dig site, the scorching heat and need he made her body feel even now tempted her. Tempted her when it shouldn’t. Long after he’d returned to working in the trench, she had burned for his touch, to feel his unrelenting lips against her own. She was doomed if such wants continued. A fault within her that she wanted things similar to men. Wanting the same freedom, but unable to have it.
“I do not care what anyone thinks. I need you to know and believe that you are the woman that I crave. The one and only woman that I want in my bed.” He shuffled closer still, clasping her face with both hands. “I burn for you, Hallie. I have for years. I know our history is as turbulent as that first carriage ride you offered me in Surrey, but you are the only woman that I’ve never been able to forget. I do not want to regret not knowing if you and I can be more than our history.”
She stared at him, her mind tumbling to understand what he was saying. “I’m not for you, Arthur. Your family would never accept me, and if you knew me at all, I know that you would not either.” Hallie reached up and clasped his hands, pulling them down to sit in her lap. “I would be lying if I did not admit to wanting you. That at night the longing in me to be with you makes me want to throw all rules of etiquette aside and sneak into your room, but it would not change anything. There are things in my past that I cannot change and they are things that I do not believe you or your family would understand. Please know that I cannot give you what you want. I risk too much by such actions.”
He frowned, his hands clasping hers in a relentless grip. “What has happened that makes you believe that? I know my family, once they meet you, they will adore you. You are a gentleman’s daughter and I am a gentleman. I see no reason why I cannot court you at least.”
Her breath hitched at the sweetness of him. To be courted and flirted with sounded heavenly, if she were not a woman who had taken a lover out of wedlock and birthed his child with no regrets.
“I’m past being courted. That time has long expired.”
“Please,” he begged, squeezing her hands. “Let me at least try to win you and if you do not wish to pursue a future with me, then I shall leave you alone. I promise you that.”
Hallie stood and walked over to the window, looking out at the dark grounds that had only the smallest amount of moonlight to light anyone’s way. She thought over his proposition. Not that she thought it could lead to anything, but then if Mr. Stewart thought she were being pursued by Lord Duncannon he may also leave her alone. He may, in fact, stop his threats.
She turned to his lordship, hating in part that she was using him to keep Mr. Stewart at arm’s length. “Very well. I shall let you court me, but please know that I do not believe that anything can come of this union. Even so, it’ll be nice to be flirted with by a handsome gentleman.”
He grinned and stood, coming over to her. “You think I’m handsome.”
She chuckled. “You know you are,” she said, sucking in a breath as he stepped close to her person, his chest brushing hers and making her body ache.
“You’re so beautiful.” His breath tickled across her lips.
Hallie could get used to Arthur speaking to her in such a way. It had been a long time since she’d had such sweet words whispered to her. Even with everything working against them, his family and her past, still she could not help but fall into the dance of courtship.
She leaned into him and kissed him, inwardly smiled as he stilled a moment in surprise before hoisting her up hard against him and kissing her back. His lips took hers, and she opened for him immediately, wanting to feel his touch, the slide of his tongue against hers, his heat and desire. All of it just for her.
Being with him was delicious.
>
Their kiss, just like all that they’d shared went from sweet and tempting to hot and demanding within a moment. Only with Arthur did she ever have this reaction. This need that rose within her and left her aching and wanting more. Always more.
“We should stop. Anyone could walk in,” she gasped, pulling away. He kissed down her neck, his tongue sliding against her collar bone. She clutched at his shoulders, her knees weak all of a sudden.
“God, you smell good.” He kissed up to her ear, licking her lobe. Hallie shut her eyes, a shiver raking her body. Blast it, he was good at seduction. Good at making whatever woman was in his arms feel special. “It’s hard to stop,” he admitted.
With great difficulty, she pushed at his chest, separating them. He stepped back, disappointment written across his face. A disappointment she could well understand as she too was feeling it right at this moment.
“Are you heading up to the dig site tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she said, checking her gown and making sure her hair was just as it was before they started clutching at each other. “Will you be coming up to help me? I’m hoping to start a second trench tomorrow.”
He came up behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist and kissing her neck quickly. “I will be. I have some missives to write to my steward first, and then I’ll be up there. I’ll bring lunch if you wish to picnic with me.”
The idea of having a lovely repast with him at the dig site, a place that she found pleasure just being near, nevertheless working at, made her heart beat fast. That Arthur not only liked what she did but supported her, told her that perhaps he was no longer the rogue he was reputed to be. Not all men would be so accommodating. Certainly not titled ones.
“I would like that. Thank you.”
Arthur spent the morning writing letters to his steward regarding his two estates and then set about writing a letter to his grandmother. He’d been putting off sending her a missive simply because the last time that she had written him, she had gone on, to no end, regarding his continued bachelorhood and his lack of prospects or inclination toward marriage.
That had all changed. The kiss the other day at the dig site for starters, and now just last night had seemed to be a turning point with him and Hallie. That she was allowing him to court her was a big step for her, and a massive relief for him.
Now he had to write to his grandmother and explain what he was about and who he was courting. He was certain that once she met Hallie she would fall in love with her as much as he feared he was well on the way to doing.
He’d never felt such a connection with anyone before in his life and to finally have her back in England and willing to see what may come of them was a desire he’d never thought would come to fruition.
“Ah, Lord Duncannon, may I come in? There is a book on botany that Baron Bankes mentioned and I’m most eager to look through it.”
Arthur glanced up from signing the letter to his grandmother and nodded to Mr. Stewart, who stood at the threshold of the room. “Of course. Please, come in. I’m almost finished here in any case.”
The gentleman scanned the bookshelves as Arthur wax-sealed his missives and stamped them with his family emblem. Out the corner of his eye he watched the man’s progress, something about the gentleman not sitting right with him. Arthur could not exactly say what it was about him that he distrusted, maybe a gut instinct, but there was something decidedly off about the man. Hallie certainly did not like him, and his presence discomfited her, more than she would admit. He would bear keeping an eye on.
“What a delightful house party,” Mr. Stewart said, his back to Arthur as he continued his search. “I do not think I’ve ever been to one with such congenial guests. Do you not agree, Lord Duncannon?”
Arthur had been to many house parties over the years, some with much more friendly and agreeable persons, but then Mr. Stewart may not have been to as many as he and so he nodded, showing his support. “It has been a most pleasant stay.”
“Have you been up to the archaeological dig site yet? I must admit that I’m yet to look in on it, but I do believe the woman who’s in charge of it, Miss Evans, is most accomplished.”
“She is,” he agreed, at least on this point Mr. Stewart was indeed quite correct. “They are starting a new trench tomorrow in fact. I’m sure in the days to come they will find many new artifacts to date and explain.”
“Oh yes, no doubt,” Mr. Stewart readily agreed. “I understand she spent some time in Egypt. How very exotic of her. The stories she could tell if only she would.” He chuckled. “Do you not agree, my lord?”
Arthur set the letters on the silver slaver on the desk for the staff to post and leaned back in the leather wing-back chair. He steepled his fingers before him, watching Mr. Stewart stroll about the shelves. He narrowed his eyes, starting to doubt his sole purpose here was to discuss Hallie and not this book on botany at all.
The pit of his gut clenched at the idea that Mr. Stewart may like Hallie more than he was letting on and was looking to see if he had any competition. “I should imagine she would know a great deal about the area and the people. I know through mutual friends she was very much in love with the country.”
“Maybe there is more to that than we know,” he said. “Women, after all, are mysterious beings with many thoughts and dreams inside their minds.”
Arthur stared at Mr. Stewart’s back, the idea that Hallie had more of a life than work in Egypt had never entered his mind. He didn’t think the culture allowed for balls like those he’d attended at Almacks with his numerous friends. That did not mean that they did not occur or that she’d had the ability to meet people. Men…
“Ah ha, here it is,” he said, holding up the thick tome and showing Arthur. “I’m so glad Baron Bankes had not led me on a merry chase. A book such as this is just what I need in such a large and lonely estate.”
Arthur stared down at the desk, thinking of Hallie and her time abroad. “I hope you enjoy your book,” he said, standing. “Do visit the dig site, Mr. Stewart. I think you’ll find it quite interesting.”
The man did not reply, merely nodded. Arthur strode out into the entrance and started for his room. What Mr. Stewart had said gave Arthur pause. He’d never thought about Hallie in Egypt and her many years there must have been taken up with more than just archaeological digs. Of course their days were long and arduous and very much hard work, but that did not mean that was the only thing Hallie did when away.
Had someone abroad courted her? There were many Englishmen who traveled abroad, who went to Egypt and farther east to survey and learn of new lands. Had any one of them shown an interest in Hallie? Why else would Mr. Stewart say such a thing? The man was not to be trusted and Arthur could not help but think that he was hinting at something.
But what?
He rubbed his jaw, thinking over the prospect. It did not mean that Hallie had been courted by an Englishman at all. What if there had been a man from Egypt who had captured her attention? Had courted her?
And loved her as much as he was fearing he was starting to.
Hallie threw herself into work over the next few days. The new trench was well underway, a slow process by hand and she couldn’t help but hope that one day such tasks could be made easier with some invention or contraption of some type.
Unfortunately Mr. Stewart had paid her a visit only yesterday, spouting on about what they had found and how very interesting it was to discover things that were lost. One of his particular comments about the past and how things never stayed buried for long was of particular interest and seemed to make him laugh at his own threats.
She had looked at him, wanting him to see how much she loathed him and his blackmailing. She could not trust him or that he would keep his mouth shut if she paid him. He was up to something other than taking her hard-earned money, and the pit of her stomach churned that he would not be satisfied with that compensation.
After an hour or so she had been glad to see him go and she was m
ost especially pleased with the shower of rain that had passed through that had ensured his departure. For all of his spouting off of enjoying her type of work and being outdoors in nature, he didn’t have a very fine opinion of the location or weather.
The rain unfortunately had continued to pass through Somerset and she had to abandon the dig site, heading back to the estate several hours earlier than planned. The men had laid tarps over the trenches to try to stop the soil from bogging up too much, but as the afternoon ticked away, the rain only seemed to get heavier.
Hallie ordered a bath, and with the help of a maid was able to remove her soaked clothing with little trouble.
“I shall take it downstairs to dry, Miss Evans. Will you be needing anything else before I go?”
“No, thank you,” she said, walking to the door to lock it before she bathed. “I’ll not be needing anything else tonight.” Hallie locked the door and then thankfully alone, sank down in her hot bath. The servants had placed it before the well-lit fire and she lay back, relaxing in the little luxury this house stay afforded.
She smiled at the thought of being back at her cottage in Felday. The small house didn’t have room for such a big bath. They would have to make do with a hip bath and one in the kitchen when the need arose.
Hallie picked up the soap that smelled of fresh herbs and cleaned the day’s grime from her skin. Once this job was completed, she had hoped to do one or two more archaeological digs before collecting her son from her cousin and returning to Surrey. Mr. Stewart’s threat now stopped her from following her plan.
Whatever was she going to do?
Maybe she could seek the gentleman out and ask him to rethink his threat. There were very few she could turn to. Of course Willow would help her, but then if society found out about her child and that she was unmarried, people associated with her would be tainted.
She could not tell Willow of Mr. Stewart’s demand, for she knew her friend would defend her even if it were at her own peril.