A Lady's Vanishing Choices Read online

  He forced a lazy, disarming smile to his lips. He tried to keep the heated appreciation out of his eyes. “Much better. At least, you won’t succumb to an inflammation of the lungs.”

  He leaned against the mantel in a non-threatening stance, his gaze locked with hers. “Your hair is still dripping water. Come closer to the fire.”

  She glided to the other side of the fireplace and held out her hands to the blaze.

  “Here, let me towel your hair a little more thoroughly.” He reached for the linen cloth. If I don’t go up in smoke . . .

  With an undeniable longing to have his hands in her hair and to be close to him, she couldn’t keep her voice steady. “It’ll dry here by the fire.”

  “Nonsense.” Taking the two strides that separated them, he began to vigorously dry her hair.

  “Please, this isn’t necessary.” She sighed as his touch tingled from her scalp all the way down her spine. His breath on the side of her throat shivered to the secret places of her being, and she could almost feel the stroke of his lips against her flesh.

  When he dropped the towel, she gazed up into the sensual snare of his eyes and witnessed the passionate longings reflected there. She tried to take a step back. “No.”

  “Oh yes,” he contradicted, taking her into his warm embrace and holding her mesmerized by the compelling force of his will. She could only stare. When his lips brushed hers, she tried to object and yet, when his mouth met hers, she surrendered. Succumbed to the taste of him, the feel of his arms, and his tight embrace. He overwhelmed her senses.

  A tiny drum beat in her ears while her pulse rate accelerated unbearably. Rain continued to hammer against the roof and the sound enclosed the lodge in a cocoon of intimacy. Captivated by the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows into the room, she lingered in his embrace. The tang of rain-washed forest wafted into the small crack in the window to mingle with lamp oil. The erotic fragrance of his clean, male scent beguiled her even further.

  He moved slightly, pulling her into a more comfortable position, his body hard and muscular against hers, his hand keeping her still so she became acutely aware of his strength.

  This was madness to be held in thrall to this forceful man, dangerous to her peace of mind and alluring to her senses, but how could she escape her own desires?

  He effortlessly held her, tempting her to respond. This had been a mistake from the first moment she’d entered his lodge, and when he’d actually touched her, sanity left her and drugging sensations had taken over. I should have run.

  Against her will, she found a matching need within her. She lost the ability to think coherently in a limbo where the only realities were his hands and mouth as he caressed and kissed her.

  What am I doing? I’m supposed to protect her, comfort her, not ravish her. Overwhelming her innocence with my expertise is despicable, even if she is a traitor. He shifted from one foot to the other. I must be daft to torture myself like this, but I need to hold her for another moment. Only a moment, and I shan’t take advantage of her. No indeed.

  The robe had loosened beneath his searching fingers, and it was all he could do to remove his hands from her luscious breasts. Although she responds so beautifully to my touch, she is hesitant. Innocence always has its guard, enough to bring me to my senses, at any rate.

  Between his teeth, he sucked in a deep, labored breath and closed the edges of his robe around her again. After one more drugging kiss, he managed to drop his arms to his side.

  “We must talk.” Rubbing his palm across the back of his neck, he turned to the window and glanced out. He stated flatly, “The rain has stopped.”

  After a lengthy pause without a sound from her, he spun around and the bewildered expression she wore tore at him. I should be kicked.

  Bethany reached for her damp clothes with trembling fingers and held her gown against her chest. “I’d best dress.” Keeping her eyes averted, she added, “My garments have dried sufficiently.”

  Obviously she needed a period to compose herself, and he needed her dressed before he lost complete control. “Perhaps that is wise.”

  Watching as she gathered her apparel and stepped into the other room, he wiped his brow. Whew. That was a close run thing.

  He paced a few lengths of the room and gathered his aplomb, facing the door with an expression as blank as he could make it. His shoulders tensed when she entered again, but he gave a thankful sigh. Her gown had dried enough to be less revealing. “Be seated here by the fire.”

  “Oh, but it is no longer raining. I’d best leave.”

  He nodded and clutched his hands together behind his back. “Yes, however, I have a few questions that must be answered.”

  Chapter 15

  He cast an intimidating stare directly into her eyes. “Exactly why is locating this messenger boy so important you set out in the rain to find him?”

  “I explained. My aunt sent me after him.” Firelight danced across her features, touching her long lashes, down her cheek to her oh so kissable mouth. She blinked up at him.

  “But why? Couldn’t it have waited until the morning?”

  She shrugged one shoulder and crossed her arms across her middle. With an uncivil tone, she snapped, “Apparently not.”

  “What was in the note?”

  Her mouth flew open and her eyes flared. “I’ve no idea.”

  He paced away from her and then turned to face her again. “Does she send you on such missions often?”

  She bristled. “What does that matter to you?”

  “I am the Lord Lieutenant around here, the authority and the law.” Surveying her through narrow lids, he moved towards her. Now, why was she frightened? Could she be afraid because he was the law in these parts? “These are still perilous times, you understand. A young lady must be protected, guarded, if you prefer, even from her own folly.”

  Alarmed, she asked, “What are you saying?”

  “Danger appears to follow you around.” He took up his pacing again. If he could frighten her into talking, perhaps he could help her, save her from herself. “A proper young lady would never tool around the countryside alone and be placed in the position to run over an unsuspecting stranger. A young lady should not be allowed to venture out in such weather simply to run an errand.”

  He waited when she opened her mouth but closed it again without uttering a word. Stubborn chit.

  “You seemed frightened when you arrived. Why is that?”

  She glanced up at him with a guarded expression. “I’m afraid of storms. I hate the lightning and thunder.”

  He paused in his pacing and leveled a disbelieving stare at her. “Yet you brave the weather on a chance of discovering a delivery boy. That seems almost believable. But more an excuse than fact.”

  “Are you accusing me of something?”

  Closing the distance, he grasped her arms and tilted her chin up to gaze into her eyes. “I shall help you if you’re in any sort of trouble or danger. You can trust me.”

  Bethany swallowed loudly but still did not reply.

  An unwelcome thought struck him. She planned to meet Perry. Now that seemed believable. “By any chance, did you hope to encounter Perry here, without your family’s knowledge?”

  After a long moment, and with her voice nearly suspended by tears, she finally managed to deny his allegations. “No. Your charges are groundless.”

  Are her tears for my benefit? She seemed devastated by his accusations, but he couldn’t quite believe her. After being held in his arms and kissed with such passion, she probably expected to have him in the palm of her delicate hand. He grimaced. She nearly did have him where she wanted him. He’d best watch his back. If she was a traitor, she could easily sink a knife into him.

  “Don’t look at me with those pitiful eyes. The very id
ea that he would have you sneak out for a lover’s tryst is appalling. I’ll skin him alive. Perry is not for you.” With clenched fists, he turned back toward the window.

  He heard her dash to the door, and before he could stop her, she fled out into the darkness.

  Bethany stumbled through the mud left by the rain. Great sobbing breaths tore at her throat and a stitch grabbed her side, but she didn’t paused, not even to listen. She knew he wouldn’t follow, especially after his accusations. He didn’t want her. There was no joy in pretending he did. A gaping wound seemed to have been ripped in the very fabric of her being, deep in her very soul and she reeled from the impact. Silly pea-goose, she deserved his treatment. Such a ninny. Did she actually think he wanted her, that he could care for her, a nobody, ill-at-ease and awkward? Caught up in her own fantasy, she followed a wisp of a dream, only to be rudely awakened.

  Still, who wouldn’t be attracted to such a man? Along with his handsome face, he carried an air of power, bred from a bone-deep confidence, sensual and compelling. He could have his pick of women. He couldn’t possibly want her. She should never be fooled into thinking she might be his choice—not again.

  She continued to run, stopping only to catch her breath before staggering on until she reached the servants’ door to the house. Out of breath and exhausted, she shivered while she climbed the back stairs, anxious to reach her room so she could lick her wounds. She collapsed onto her narrow bed and covered her face with her hands. Tears leaked through her fingers and dripped on the covers, the cost of shattered dreams.

  How could she have been so foolish? He was only protecting his brother. She folded her arms across her chest, rocking back and forth. Agony and bitter regret drummed in her heart. Temptation of the flesh was so very alluring, but it came at a high price. She questioned her rapid and willing acceptance of temptation. A love-starved old maid. She longed for a single memory for herself, an illusion to hold through the long, lonely years. Catching her breath at the realization of her folly trampled her heart and her pride in the dust. His rejection nearly killed her soul.

  She finally managed to control her emotions. Her tears ceased to flow, but she would never be the same again. Would she ever learn? Love was not for her, a much-despised relation, plain and gawky. She lifted her head, straightened her spine, and mopped up her tears. Very well, Royce Carrington, high and mighty, Lord Rivton. She had managed to overcome all the obstacles life had thrown at her, and this time would be no exception. She would survive, not live, perhaps, but survive.

  Thinking about all that had gone before, a sudden question hit her. Why hadn’t she told him about the murder while she had the chance? She allowed her shoulders to sag when she thought about the answer. Because I so longed to be held in his arms, to be kissed, and even more—that’s why. I’m a dolt.

  Damnation. That certainly went well. Royce raked his hand through his hair. He learned something from the encounter, something about himself. I’m weaker than I thought. One look into those passion-glazed eyes and I could hardly remember my own name. Setting out to question her about her family had failed utterly. He flopped into the chair by the hearth and dropped his head into his hands. He was left with this curst longing for her. He wasn’t even certain she’d told him the truth about Perry. He rested his head on the back of the chair and watched the flames leaping with a crackle in the fireplace. Dread formed a knot in the pit of his stomach and he clenched his teeth. Tomorrow he would ask Perry about his relationship with Bethany.

  The next morning, restless and in need of comfort, Bethany decided to run straight for the village and Maggie. Not bothering to fetch a cloak, she darted out into the sunshine of the early morning and headed down the path. Tears leaked from her eyes while she walked through the woods, avoiding the puddles left by last night’s rain.

  He wasn’t worth crying over. After all, he hadn’t ruined her. Fresh tears gushed down her face. She clenched her fists. No, she wasn’t ruined, unless someone had discovered her presence at his lodge last night. If she was going to be disgraced, she wished she knew the full extent of his possession, not merely a few beyond compare kisses. Heat climbed to her cheeks. Perhaps a little more than kisses—his touch as well.

  She entered the back door of Maggie’s establishment. After taking one look at Bethany’s face, Maggie urged her into the rooms attached to the shop.

  “There, there, love. Such a kick up. Tain’t nothing that bad,” Maggie said and patted Bethany’s back. “You tell Maggie all about it.” She supplied a handkerchief. “Sit here.”

  Maggie wiped a straight-back chair and pushed Bethany onto the seat. “Let it all pour out.”

  Bethany swiped at her cheeks and sobbed, “I hate him, hate him, hate him.”

  Maggie raised her brows. “That’s lots of hate. You mean Perry?”

  “No, his brother, Lord Rivton.” Bethany glanced up at Maggie. “He warned me off. He said Perry wasn’t for me as if I’m not good enough.”

  Maggie glared her disapproval. “He never.” She rested her fisted hands on her ample hips. “He needs to be horsewhipped.”

  Bethany laughed though her tears at Maggie’s indignation. “I wouldn’t have his precious brother if he came gift-wrapped in solid gold.”

  “That’ll dish him up. Put him in a rare takin’, I’d say.”

  “A slight exaggeration.” Bethany wiped her eyes and managed a weak chuckle. “Men—it isn’t fair.”

  Maggie laughed and ended with a snort. “Nothing fair about ‘em. Course they can stand up when they goes—we cain’t. Tain’t fair a tall.”

  Disbelief widened Bethany’s eyes. “Maggie, I’m surprised at you.” She finally grinned through her tears.

  “Still,” Maggie paused. “The good Lord, he made ‘em that way.”

  Bethany tilted her head to the side, unable to ignore her sense of grievance. “No matter. I still hate him.”

  Maggie encouraged, “You keep hating him. That’ll keep you safe from the likes of his lordship.”

  “What would I do without you?” Bethany hugged Maggie.

  Royce brooded the morning away. How can I convince Perry to forget Bethany when I can think of little else myself? Why does she have such a hold on me? I’m not thinking. I’m allowing passion to interfere. He tapped his forehead with the side of his fist. Think. Think. I’m a dolt, but I must speak to him.

  He finally rode back to the hall and entered his library. Sinking into the chair behind his desk, he stared out the window at the sheep-cropped grass on the west lawn. I can’t warn him of personal danger, or suggest she may be in league with traitors. That would betray my involvement with the government.

  Glancing up as Perry strode into the library, he noted the serious expression on his brother’s face. Royce swallowed while a knot formed in his stomach. The moment had come for him to inform his brother of a few home truths. Perry can never have Bethany. Not only because she may propel him into danger, but she did not love Perry as he deserved to be loved. Not after she nearly surrendered in Royce’s arms. Perry didn’t love her either. Royce was convinced of that. He heaved a sigh.

  He laid his papers aside and leaned back in his chair. “Is there a problem?”

  Perry lifted his shoulders with an uneasy shrug and drew a deep breath. “Arthur Littleton. I intend to speak to him about a marriage between Bethany and me.” He wiped his hand down his pant leg. “I wanted you to know first.”

  Royce grew angry and his stomach churned. Not now. His brother couldn’t want to marry her. Not unless there was more to it than appeared. Did she lie about meeting Perry at the lodge?

  “Blister it, Perry. Have you lost your mind?” Royce exploded. “She’s not for you. You can have your pick.” He fought for breath while his chest squeezed tight.

  “She is my pick.”

  That statement rocked
Royce back a little, but he gazed at his brother through narrowed lids. “I need the truth. Did you or did you not arrange to meet her at the lodge? Last night during the storm.”

  “I wish to marry her, not dishonor her. Why?” Perry hesitated as if thinking before he glared at Royce. “Did you meet her at the lodge?”

  Royce blew out a deep breath. “In the middle of the storm, she arrived asking if a messenger boy was in residence. Not very believable in the middle of pouring rain. Naturally I assumed she used that story to cover her true reason—to meet you.”

  “Why would you assume such a thing?”

  “You seemed attracted to her, paid her undue attention. It seemed more reasonable than chasing after a boy.” Royce raised his brows.

  “I would never place her in such a predicament.” Perry’s glare turned to suspicion. “The tips of your ears are red. You invited her inside. What happened?”

  Royce swallowed while his stomach churned. There was nothing else he could do but stand firm. He threw his quill across his desk. “I do not answer to you, little brother.”

  “The devil take that.” Perry’s nostrils flared. “I’ll marry her regardless of what you did to her.”

  Royce jumped up. “Not ‘til Hell freezes over.”

  “I’ll protect her from you, Lord Rivton,” Perry sneered.

  “Why? You don’t love her.” Royce listened intently for an inkling of his brother’s true feelings.

  “I care for her.” Perry hunched his shoulders, his hands deep in his pockets.