The Soul of a Storme

by SOOKOO, SANDRA

  Silence brewed between them as they walked before Sarah broke it due to curiosity. Him being here simply wasn’t ordinary. “Tell me, Lord Hadleigh, why exactly did you seek me out today? I’ve lived long enough to know men don’t suddenly show up on my doorstep and ask for an outing.” She shrugged. “If you wished to take in the air, you could have done that yourself, though I trust you were more careful about your riding habits.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I enjoy galloping and don’t intend to change it.”

  “That answer isn’t unexpected, but you didn’t answer my question.” Was he deliberately being difficult, or was he simply to remain an unsolved mystery?

  “No, I didn’t.” The earl walked in silence for a while as she attempted to puzzle out his intentions. He didn’t hold himself relaxed as one would do for a mere bout of exercise. In fact, tension fairly emanated from him and he clenched his jaw so hard, the muscles in his cheek stood rigid. Finally, he said, “I do have a specific purpose for this outing.”

  “Oh?” Her heartbeat skipped. What could he possibly want from her?

  “Please, call me Andrew or even Drew. That’s what everyone has named me.”

  Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “You asked me out for a stroll to tell me your Christian name?” Really, the man had windmills in his head if that were the case.

  “Not exactly.” A hint of annoyance threaded through those two words, but why? If wasn’t as if she were the one who made the conversation difficult.

  She tamped a sound of frustration. “Then why? Pray enlighten me.”

  “It’s something I’ve thought about since meeting you three days ago. The idea simply won’t let me alone, and the more I ponder it, the more I think it might have some merit,” he continued in the same low voice that would drive her made before too long.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Had that first conversation been an aberration then? He’d seemed highly intelligent and able to debate as they’d stood arguing on the side of the road. Now, it seemed he was bedeviled with something of his own making.

  “Doing the pretty doesn’t come easy to me.” Aggravation underscored his reply, but for the life of her she didn’t know why he was annoyed.

  “Some men simply don’t have the personality to be charming and unaffected in situations where their peers might judge them.” What the devil is your point, my lord? But she said nothing further until he could give her a clue as to what he drove toward.

  “That’s not what I meant.” There was no mistaking the growl in his tone.

  She blew out a breath as frustration mounted. “Then stop hedging. What exactly are you talking about, for I’m lost at sea in the muddle of this conversation.”

  “Perhaps it would be better if I showed you, for the subject matter is rather abrupt and far-fetched without a hands-on aid.” The earl brought them to a halt and touched her shoulder, turning her so that she faced him on the lane. As she frowned, he tugged at the ribbon beneath her chin. The bonnet tumbled from her head to land with a thud on the hard-packed earth.

  “What are you—” Before she could voice the whole protest, he swept her into his arms and claimed her lips.

  Sarah’s world tilted sharply sideways. She fought against him, more from the shock of it than anything else, but when it became apparent that he wasn’t dissuaded from his present course and those chiseled lips were quite wonderful against hers, she relaxed.

  Seemingly of their own accord, her hands came to rest on the hard wall of his chest, and she gave herself over to experiencing the first kiss of her adult life. When her eyes shuttered closed, she had no idea, for the firm pressure of his warm lips on hers dashed away her ability to think straight. The veriest tastes of coffee and mint came away on her palate as she mimicked what he did to her. When he kissed the corner of her mouth, she did the same to him. Tiny butterfly wings brushed the inside of her belly.

  He reeled her in closer with a hand at the back of her head and fit his mouth more decidedly over hers. With the tip of his tongue, he explored her bottom lip, and when she gasped from the sheer pleasure of it, he kissed her upper one, gently sucking it before he released it. Then he paused, their lips barely a hairsbreadth apart, his gaze boring into hers before he claimed her mouth once more, this time with a touch more urgency and power behind the overture.

  A moan escaped Sarah’s throat. Anticipation sizzled along each nerve ending and heightened her awareness of him as a man. She slid her hands up his chest to clutch at his strong shoulders. A confusing mix of deep need and abject fear twisted along her spine. Through the haze of desire that had suddenly enveloped her brain, common sense rushed in and her eyes popped open.

  Dear Lord, she was being kissed in public by the Earl of Hadleigh! She wrenched away, put a step between them as she gawked, her chest heaving, her breath coming in fast pants, her spectacles slipping down her nose while she both marveled at the fact and acknowledged the horror of what had happened.

  Why had he done it? To humiliate her? To put her in her place? To remind her of his mastery? Heat jumped into her cheeks. Oh, he was quite skilled in that, but such treatment was outside of enough. She wasn’t a throwaway member of society nor a woman of poor morals. Sarah lifted a trembling hand and without thought, she brought her palm crashing into his cheek. The resounding sound of her kid glove slapping his skin sent a rush of satisfaction through her.

  “What is the meaning of this, Lord Hadleigh? To that end, what is wrong with you?” she demanded in an effort not to chase her errant thoughts down yet another rabbit hole.

  Or remember how delicious the kiss had been, and how she’d enjoyed every second of it.

  Chapter Five

  Andrew stared at the fuming woman before him while he held a gloved hand to his stinging cheek. She’d slapped him, and with enough force to leave heat behind. No one had ever dared challenge him since he’d assumed the earl’s title. “There is nothing wrong with me.” Except, he’d apparently taken leave of his damned senses by kissing her after a single meeting, but he’d had to discover if the attraction that snapped between them three days ago had been his imagination.

  It had not. If anything, it had strengthened.

  After her initial surprise, she’d thrown herself into the embrace, and though she was acutely inexperienced, she’d been a quick learner. Her tentative exploration had left him more than a little aroused.

  “Then what the devil was the meaning of…” Sarah’s words trailed off as she gestured between them, her kiss-swollen lips parted, her eyes wide and reflecting a myriad of emotions he couldn’t quite sort behind the lenses of her askew spectacles. “Why did you…?” The color in her cheeks and the not-quite-hidden wonder in her countenance put animation into her plain face.

  Andrew gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t keep standing here like a nodcock. It was time to let her know the reason he’d asked her for a stroll. “I’ve confirmed something I suspected during our first meeting.” He couldn’t help admiring her heaving bosom or the way a few tendrils of her blonde hair had escaped their pins to frame her face. The spectacles that sat at the end of her nose only added to the look of her becoming undone.

  Did passion lurk beneath her straight-laced surface? What would it take for him to unleash it, and more to the point, why did he want to?

  “And what is that?” She’d collected herself enough to put a few more steps between them and set her spectacles right. Then she planted her hands on her hips and glared. “You still haven’t explained yourself. I would ask that you focus on the problem at hand instead of woolgather.”

  Oh, that tart mouth of hers! He’d be a proper nodcock not to admire those gentle curves or how much her annoyance called to his and made him want to cross verbal swords with her again. Something about that sparring gave his seething feelings an outlet… but he owed her an explanation. “There is an attraction between us. Surely you can feel it.” God, what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips again, merely to lend credence
to his claim. The bottom one was slightly fuller than the top, and she’d tasted of innocence and heat.

  “Are you completely daft?” She gawked and took another step backward.

  “Not completely, I’ll wager.” Drew hadn’t meant to sound flippant. Hell, he hadn’t meant to kiss her or feel desire for anyone when he’d buried himself in the Derbyshire countryside, but here he was, battling exactly that for this plain spinster who would never have caught his eye had they been in a drawing room in London.

  “Attraction, you claim?” Miss Copeland shook her head while amazement and consternation warred for dominance in her eyes. “We have only just met, but you’ve deemed it proper to kiss me?”

  His nod was a tad curt. “Yes, for the enticement is there regardless of the length of our acquaintance.” She hadn’t denied it, so it must be true for her as well. That was something. Perhaps this next bit wouldn’t become such a chore.

  “Conversing with you is proving impossible. Again, I ask, what is your point, my lord?” She bent to retrieve her errant headgear, and when she straightened, her gaze fell to his mouth—briefly, but he didn’t miss that tell.

  She wasn’t as immune to him as she wanted him to believe.

  A rush of blood shot through his shaft. How long had it been since that had happened, and why with this bespectacled miss of no consequence? “Right. My point.” Yes, he was fit for Bedlam with what he’d say to her. Would she slap him again? Run away screaming? Anxiety tightened his chest. Would she agree? “Marry me.” There was no finesse or romance involved, how could there be? As she’d pointed out twice, they’d met once before today. The only thing between them was desire and perhaps the niggling thought that being in her presence had the ability to take the edge off his anger. He wished to explore that more readily, for it was quite a novel idea.

  “I… what?” Her eyes widened behind the lenses.

  “Marry me.” There was more confidence behind the suggestion this time. He hadn’t given her an explanation as to why, yet it felt right to ask. Actually, it was a jot more complicated than that. The last thing he needed was to add a spouse to his already mucked-up life, but… he wanted Miss Copeland, plain and simple.

  Why shouldn’t he have her? After all, he was an earl, and he had a duty to the damned title. And it seemed she wasn’t averse to his advances…

  “What gammon is this?” The bonnet dropped from her lax fingers to thud upon the ground once again. “You’re having me on. This is naught but a cruel joke at my expense,” she said in a soft voice, almost to herself.

  The astonishment in her expression rivaled his own, but Drew grinned and hoped it was as wicked as he felt. “I am not.”

  “Such fustian.” She shook her head. Annoyance snapped in her doe-brown eyes, bringing out fire in the depths. “How dare you presume I’ll fall desperate upon your offer.”

  “Won’t you?” He shrugged. “Not to bring light to your situation, Miss Copeland, but you’re not getting any younger, and I rather doubt you’ve had a steady stream of offers to reject.”

  The red stain in her cheeks deepened. “I… I don’t know what to address first, but perhaps your horrid lack of manners shall be my jumping off point.” She fairly shook with ire, and damn if that energy didn’t call to him. There were times when only another’s storm could take the sting from his. As yet he’d never had cause to witness that, but in her the potential was there.

  Save me…

  “Stating a fact isn’t bad manners.” Drew came forward and closed the distance between them. Taking one of her hands, he said, “If we marry, the alliance will benefit us both, you see.”

  “You’re mad.” Miss Copeland shook off his touch, though a light of understanding lit her eyes. “You don’t even know my Christian name but you’re proposing marriage.”

  “Then tell me. There was plenty of opportunity while we talked, but you didn’t go that far.” He enjoyed her being at sixes and sevens all too much. It gave life to her plain face as well as brought him out of the dark pit his anger usually cornered him into. Would she pull him up?

  “I… you…” She lifted a hand that fluttered about, and she blinked as if he’d managed to startle her. Her mouth worked as she stared. “It’s Sarah.”

  “It suits you.” Not exactly feeling jovial but not squarely in the grip of the usual angst that plagued him, Drew gave her a brief bow from the waist. “I believe I’ve asked you a couple of times to call me Andrew, so now we are acquainted.” He couldn’t help another grin when she narrowed her eyes. “Regardless of the shocking way this has come about, let me give you a few reasons why we should wed. Will you listen?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Neither of us are growing younger. For whatever reason, we’ve both let life slip away and have done nothing in the way of leaving a legacy.” He ticked off the items on his gloved fingers. “You’ve had no opportunities and even less fortune in landing a man.” When she sputtered, he continued quickly to his next point. “I have little patience for entering the Marriage Mart in London. Plus, I need to do my duty to the title—”

  “Stop.” Sarah held up a hand. “I won’t lie. The idea holds a certain merit, and I’m aghast that I’m actually considering it.”

  “Why? Marriage solves a myriad of problems.” In this he was confident that he’d prevail. It was only a matter of convincing her.

  And then what? You’ll have caught a tiger by the tail. How will that help you? He had no answers, so he ignored that inner voice of reason.

  “I know nothing about you, nor you of me. We’re strangers who have met once before today.” She shook her head. “And that first go ‘round wasn’t exactly civil.”

  “What does that matter?” He watched her. Why didn’t she consider the offer as the boon that it was? “If I had to select a bride in London, it would be much the same.” He shrugged. “Only this way, I do have some control over the woman who’d be my countess. Thank the Lord it won’t be handed to an empty-headed debutante, for you are intelligent and possess a backbone.” He shrugged. “You and I will learn of each other as we go along.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet.” Sarah crossed her arms at her chest. “Although I have long wondered if I’d ever marry, having an earl suddenly ask for my hand isn’t quite the romance that I dreamed of.” A frown pulled her lips down at the corners. “I would have preferred a husband to want me for me, but I suppose life doesn’t present itself in that fashion, does it?” A hint of bitterness rode upon those words, and for one second Drew could fully empathize with the feeling. “Especially not for one like me.”

  “If you continue to think yourself as less than, then perhaps you wouldn’t be the best fit for a countess like I thought.” What, exactly, was she opposed to: marrying him or taking up a title? The fact she’d found fault with either had sparks of anger flaring in his chest. He was giving her the opportunity to better her standing in society, and she would throw it away with a snap of her fingers? Bah! Perhaps the life of a hermit would be best for him after all.

  Yet the title demanded that he bring his life into order. He refused to give up his control to his cousin. Without marrying, could he do that? Familiar, crushing anxiety gripped his chest and he put a hand to his heart as he struggled to breathe property, fought against the onslaught of emotions battering his insides not to show that weakness in front of her. Would he fail in landing a wild female such as her too? Damn it all, couldn’t he succeed in something?

  For long moments she stared at him; he could almost see her mind working as she considered every aspect. Finally, when he thought he might expire on the spot, she spoke. “When did you think up this mad scheme?” She relaxed her arms only to clutch the silver locket that hung about her neck, the sun glinting on the silver chain. “I’m old enough to know I have neither the looks nor the figure to render a sane man mad with lust.”

  Then she obviously needed a better cheval glass. “Perhaps you’ve underestimated yourself.” Since he’d alr
eady acted rashly, he dared go farther and swept his gaze up and down her person in a slow perusal. The dull colors she chose in her clothing did nothing for her, but that was easily changed. And with very little imagination, he could see her sans those clothes. Tiny fires licked through his veins. With his temper, her spirit, and the building attraction, they wouldn’t pass the time bored. “Perhaps I’m mad indeed, but I’m not wrong. I knew as soon as I put you on my horse that we’d suit.”

  “Suit who? You or your title?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “Does it matter?” His chest tightened as anxiety had its way. “I mean to be faithful to both my title and to you.”

  Confusion clouded her eyes. For another swath of long moments, she remained silent. Then she once more retrieved her bonnet. As her gaze found his, a hint of longing filled those brandy-hued depths, gone at her next blink. “When would this wedding occur?”

  Ah, she was coming around to his way of thinking. He gave into a tight grin. No, she wasn’t a feathers-for-brains female, and perhaps that’s what initially drew him to her. “Five weeks if you’d like the banns read. A week or so if you wish for a common license. I have no preference.”

  Sarah—God, the name sounded all too plain—snorted. “As long as you have your way, you mean?”

  A quick spike of anger stabbed through his chest to collide with the heavy anxiety. He gasped for breath. There was nothing to hold onto as black spots chased at the edges of his vision. Please don’t let me have an episode here on the road. “How dare you assume that.”

  “It’s not an assumption. You’ve showed yourself quite arrogant on several occasions while in my company. I’m merely stating a truth.”