A Lady And Her Magic (12 page)

“Why was she in your chambers in her nightrail?”

Ashley thought about that for a moment. “I’m not completely certain. One moment, I was playing the piano, and the next, there she was.”

“Oh, dear God,” the man groaned, lowering his head into his hands. “Music,” he spat. “I should have known.” He raised his head, remorse in his gaze. “Shall I assume that you sent her back to her own chambers with haste?”

“You could assume that.” Mr. Thorne relaxed with a heavy sigh. “But you would be wrong.”

Sophia’s brother’s head shot up. “Beg your pardon.”

“I kept her there in my chambers for as long as I could.”

Mr. Thorne turned a little green around the mouth. “What happened?”

“Nothing untoward,” Ashley admitted. A few harmless kisses. A few harmless kisses that had rocked his very being. “What matters is that I’m prepared to make it right.” He looked directly into his eyes. “I’d like to offer for your sister. I can make a rather generous settlement upon you, if you have need of it.”

“I think it’s me who’s supposed to offer the dowry,” Mr. Thorne said, his mouth opening and closing, as though he had words to say but couldn’t formulate them.

“I’ve never stood by society’s restrictions,” Ashley admitted. “I’m willing to pay handsomely for her.”

“I’ll not sell my sister.” Mr. Thorne heaved a disgusted sigh. Ashley had to give him credit. Many men of undetermined origins would have jumped on the opportunity to get their hands on a wealthy duke’s fortune. Even a small portion of it. “Is she still innocent?” Mr. Thorne looked pained by the question.

“She is,” Ashley said as he inclined his head.

“I’ll be able to tell,” the man muttered.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Ashley returned.

“Not where we’re from,” Mr. Thorne returned quietly.

“And where is that, exactly?” Ashley asked.

“I’m certain you’ve never heard of it.”

That was the same answer Sophia always had. Blast and damn. Would no one tell him details of their heritage? From where they heralded? This one was as tight-lipped as Sophia. “I’ve only known her for a few days,” Ashley admitted. “But she’s like a breath of fresh air.”

“That’s what she’s supposed to be,” Mr. Thorne said. He sighed heavily. “As long as she’s still innocent, my dealings with you are done.” He bowed in Ashley’s direction. “We’ll be taking our leave today. All of us.”

Leaving? “Wait!” Ashley called to his retreating back.

The man stopped and turned toward him. He arched an inquisitive brow and waited. “She could be carrying my child,” Ashley said without even thinking about it first.

Mr. Thorne looked like he needed someone to catch him when he fell. Ashley shot up from his chair and crossed the room. He stopped in front of the man, fully intending to catch him when he collapsed. However, he got a rousing surprise instead when Mr. Throne’s right fist cuffed his left jaw.

Ashley took the blow, which was strong enough to knock him slightly off center. What he wasn’t expecting was the second punch that hit him directly in the nose. He stumbled, cursed profusely, and then righted himself. He took a deep breath and asked, “Feel better?” as he wiggled his nose to be sure it was still attached. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the blood he’d provoked with his own carelessness. If anyone said the same about Anne, he’d be provoked to kill him. If all Ashley got was a bloody nose, he was fortunate.

“Feel better?” Mr. Thorne snorted. “Hardly.” He looked devastated. And Ashley’s conscience pricked at him a little.

“Do you want to hit me again?” Ashley dabbed at his nose. Damn, but that hurt. It had been a long time since he’d been in a brawl. Well, one couldn’t really call taking two punches a brawl. But it still hurt like the devil.

“I want to kill you,” Mr. Thorne said as he dropped heavily into a chair. He looked deflated, like a balloon that had lost its air. “This mission wasn’t meant for her,” he muttered.

Mission? Sophia had mentioned a mission more than once. “Pray tell me about this mission.”

Mr. Thorne avoided his question entirely. “She could be with child. This does not bode well.” He labored to his feet and tugged at his jacket. “I assume there’s only one thing I can do.”

“And that would be?”
Let
her
marry
me. Force her to marry me. I’ll make her happy with time
.

“She’ll have to give up her life as she knows it. And marry you. And face the consequences. There will be consequences, whether her child is born like one of us or you.”

Born a murderer. “I don’t believe homicidal tendencies are bred into a person,” Ashley informed him.

A startled gasp arose from the doorway. “What did you say?” Sophia asked as she barged into the room. She reminded him of a storm cloud heavy with thunder and lightning. Ready to erupt. Her hazel eyes flashed, and her dark brows drew together, her expression stern.

Ashley avoided her gaze. But her brother spoke up. “You should have told me,” he said, sounding like an old man, suddenly. A wounded old man. Something inside Ashley twisted. But he schooled his features.

Just then, Sophia noticed Ashley’s nose and the bloody handkerchief. She was across the room in a trice. “What happened to you?” she asked as she took the handkerchief and wiped at his nose. Her touch was gentle, but, by God, it hurt. He winced and backed his head up an inch.

“Careful,” he murmured. He took her hand in his and held it, looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. How else could he convey what he was feeling? He couldn’t even put word to his thoughts. Much less explain them. “I’m sorry” was a poor substitute.

“Did you hit him?” Sophia asked her brother. She punched her brother in the shoulder, which made him wince loudly. It made Ashley want to chuckle as the man massaged his arm.

“Damn it, Soph, don’t do that,” he groused. “He had it coming.”

“What on earth could he do that would make you want to hit him?” she asked, her voice rising.

“He informed me that you could be with child,” Mr. Thorne hissed at her. His glance kept moving quickly over to Ashley. But Ashley stayed silent and watched Sophia.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. “With child?” she croaked.

She looked stricken. And Ashley reached for her. She doubled over. This time, he grabbed for her. Dear God, he’d caused her pain. He would undo it.

Sophia could barely catch her breath. She doubled over in the middle and clutched her stomach. She’d rushed into the room when she’d heard Ashley’s muffled curses, never expecting to find him standing there with blood dripping on his cravat and Marcus shaking out his fingers to relieve the pain he’d caused himself. She stayed bent over and took a few deep breaths. With child? A laugh escaped her mouth.

“Sophie, it’s all right,” Ashley soothed, bending down to her level to look her in the eye. A drop of blood hit the rug they stood on and Sophia looked down at it. They’d come to blows. Over what? She came back upright and he straightened his body along with her.

“You told him I could be with child?” she asked in her most pleasant voice. It sounded a little choked because of all the laughter, and she wiped at her left eye with her knuckle.

“There’s no need to cry,” Ashley continued. “I’ll make this better.” She turned to Marcus. Good God, Marcus looked like a wounded man, and he wasn’t even the one was bleeding.

“You lied to me, Soph?” Marcus asked. He very slowly tested his grip by opening and closing his fingers.

“I didn’t lie,” she started, swiping at mirth that overran her other eye.

“There’s no need to cry, Sophie,” Ashley crooned.

Crying? He thought she was crying.

“Her name is
Sophia
. Miss Thorne to you. And she’s not crying, you idiot,” Marcus bit out. “She finds this extremely amusing.” His gaze moved to Ashley’s hand, which still drew light little circles on her back. It felt quite good, actually. “And I would suggest you stop touching my sister.” Marcus kept his sight on that hand, which slowed and then stopped. Ashley pulled it back as though it had something vile on it, then let it drop at his side.

“You think this is amusing?” Ashley asked.

Sophia drew her upper lip between her teeth for a moment to keep a loud burst of laughter from escaping. Then she said, “I find it supremely amusing that you think what we did could get me with child. I thought you were a man of the world. Lady Anne was not left under a yew hedge.”

Color crept up Ashley’s cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak. But no sound came out. He closed it. Then he opened it again. Still nothing.

“Exactly what did you do?” Marcus growled.

Sophia spun to face him. “Nothing that could get me with child, I assure you.” She rolled her eyes.

“Be more specific,” Marcus said from between gritted teeth.

Marcus would torture himself with this until she told him the truth. “He was playing music,” she muttered.

“Beg your pardon, I couldn’t hear you,” Marcus said, coaxing her with a hand that moved toward him. As though by sheer will alone, he could break her heart open and spill all her secrets. Not likely. “Soph,” he warned.

Like a dog with a bone, she thought. He would never let this drop.

“Music!” she yelled. Then she began to pace. “He was playing music. And you know how much I love music.”

“He mentioned that. The music is what drew you to his bedchamber?” Marcus asked.

Well, kind of. Ashley himself drew her like a moth to a flame. But the music was what woke her from a dead sleep, a sleep where she dreamed of His Grace doing wicked things to her. But Marcus didn’t need to know about that.

“It was very compelling music. More compelling than any I’ve ever heard. When he stopped playing, I borrowed his robe and went back to my chambers.”

Marcus faced Ashley. “Is that the truth?”

Ashley probably hadn’t answered to anyone in a very long time. Sophia hoped he wouldn’t be too vexed about it. “Yes,” he finally bit out. “That’s what happened.”

“That’s why you were dancing in circles when you came back to your room? That’s why you looked giddy?”

A grin slid across Ashley’s lips. He swiped at it with the back of his hand, but it was still there. He leaned closer to her. “You were happy when you returned to your chambers?” he whispered, a devilish glint in his eye.

She bumped her shoulder into his as heat crept up her face. “Hush,” she said, a grin tugging at her own lips. “The point is that,” she turned to glare at Marcus, “I am not with child. Nor will I be.” She turned to Ashley and said, “Do you need a refresher on how babes are made? Because I assure you that nothing we did would cause it.”

“A refresher would be fabulous,” the duke said with a wide grin. Blast his hide. He was so easy to like.

“Assure my brother that nothing happened,” she coaxed. She should send Ashley’s grandmother to him for the education about where babies came from. That was what he deserved.

“Nothing happened,” Ashley muttered.

She turned to face Marcus. “And apologize for trying to rearrange his face.”

“No,” Marcus muttered. “Why should I? He started it.”

“You two are worse than children,” she sighed. Then she dusted her hands together. “Are we done here?”

“He is,” Ashley said with a grunt. But then he straightened and adjusted his coat. “But then there’s the matter of my offer.”

Marcus opened his eyes wide. “You still want to offer for her?”

Ashley nodded and Sophia’s belly flipped over.

She stepped closer to Marcus. “No, Marcus,” she said calmly.

“He wants to court you,” Marcus said, and she could almost see the machinations of his mind.

“I do,” Ashley agreed stoically. All because he didn’t know who or what she was. And she couldn’t tell him.

“We’d never suit,” she said. She felt like a book that had been read over and over, always saying the same thing.

“I think we suit quite nicely,” Ashley said smoothly. He winked at her when Marcus turned his head. Her belly did that odd little flip again.

“I’ll think about it,” Marcus said.

“You’ll think about it?” Sophia mimicked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

“Yes,” Marcus repeated with a nod. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” Ashley said, extending his hand. Marcus took it with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Or annoyance. Or perhaps he was just dyspeptic. Belatedly, both Sophia and Ashley noted that it was his injured hand. Poor Marcus.

Marcus started for the door. “I’ll send your maid to you,” he warned as he started down the corridor.

Of course, he would.

***

Ashley played over the events of the last half hour in his mind. The lady of his interest, and he most certainly had an interest, glared at him from where she stood.

“Why did you tell him that?” she asked, tapping the toe of her slipper on the floor.

“Tell him what?” Ashley stalled.

“You know what,” she prompted.

Ashley sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. “He said he was taking you away. I spoke on the spur of the moment.” He let his voice trail off on the last. There was so much more he wanted to say. But he wasn’t certain she wanted to receive it. He took one step toward her and looked into her eyes. “How do you feel about me, Miss Thorne?” he asked.

She stuttered only a moment when she replied. “I-I like you quite a lot,” she finally said. Ashley’s heart leapt.

“Do you think that you could love me?” he asked, nearly betraying himself with the softness of his tone. Did he have to seem quite so enamored of her?

Her hazel gaze searched his face. He wondered what she was looking for. He’d thought the important parts worth noticing had died years before. But they hadn’t. They’d been sleeping, just waiting for a little slip of a lady to wake him up. If she looked deeply enough, she would see into his heart. “Do you?” he prompted again when she didn’t answer. She just appraised him.

“Answering that question won’t be beneficial to either of us,” she said. Then she reached out a hand to cup his cheek. He pressed his face into it like a cat. God, he loved the way she touched him. The smoothness of her skin as it rubbed over his. He pulled her to him with a gentle tug, and she fell into him with no resistance. He splayed his fingers like a fan on her back, and she let him hold her tight.

“Could you?” he asked, his lips hovering over hers.

“Maybe,” she squeaked. She turned her head to clear her throat and pressed firmly against his chest. He didn’t let her go. And she didn’t continue to push. She softened after a moment. Oh, she gloriously softened.

“I could,” she finally breathed. Then her lips touched his, a tentative meeting of mouths. He tilted his head so he could drink her in, and she opened to him. Her tongue tentatively rose to meet his. He growled low in his throat.

A cough arose from the corridor. Ashley lifted his head to find her maid glaring at him, displeasure evident on her face. “Miss?” she said.

Ashley set Sophia away from him a little and smiled at the look of wonder in her eyes. He liked the way he felt when he was in her company. He didn’t feel like a jaded old outcast. He felt like he had many, many years ago, when the world was his to conquer.

“Miss?” the maid said again, louder this time.

“Yes, yes,” Sophia said, her voice full of irritation. “I heard you.”

“Did you, miss?” the maid asked.

She should be sacked for such impertinence.

“Your brother said for me to join you here.”

“Of course, he did,” Sophia quipped with an eye roll. She stepped back from Ashley and he immediately felt the loss of her.

“I should like to have a word with you,” the maid said.

“Of course, you would,” Sophia said, her voice glib. She dropped into a playful little curtsy that brought a smile to his lips. She started to brush past him. But he caught her hand.

“Will I see you later?” he asked, allowing his thumb to brush slowly across the back of her hand.

“Will you be playing?” she whispered.

“I will,” he affirmed.

“Then I will see you later, I’m certain. Unless my brother locks me in my chamber.”

“Which very well may happen,” chimed the maid.

Over his dead body. “That would be tragic,” he said, instead. She winked at him as she moved toward the door. But almost as soon as she passed, Wilkins appeared. “Did you need something?” Ashley asked.

“The new governess,” Wilkins said. “There’s already a problem with her.”

A problem? The woman had just arrived. “What sort of problem?”

“I took the new governess to make Lady Anne’s acquaintance, and Anne refused to come out of the wardrobe.”

Good God, would his life ever become normal? Not bloody likely. “So, pull her out of the damn wardrobe.”

“The new governess attempted that. And Lady Anne bit her on the arm. Then she dashed from her chambers and now we cannot find her.”

Blast and damn. “Did she do much damage to the governess?”

Wilkins shrugged. “Negligible.”

Negligible for Anne was not the same negligible as for other children. Anne could do a lot of damage in a short amount of time when she set her mind to it.

Ashley swiped at his nose with his handkerchief as he walked toward the door. “How does it look?” he asked Wilkins, lifting his head a notch and scrunching up his nose.

“Painful,” the servant said, wincing a little in sympathy.

“Did I mop up all the blood?”

“Except for what’s on your cravat,” Wilkins informed him. Simmons would be none too pleased. Wilkins looked across the room and said, “And on the rug.” He looked a little perturbed at the latter. “I suppose it couldn’t be avoided,” he finally acquiesced.

“I suppose not,” Ashley said with a grunt, swiping at his nose one more time. Damn but that did hurt. It was no more than he deserved, however. “I should have let you set up an assignation for me, Wilkins.” It certainly would have been more convenient than falling for a pretty little lass with flashing eyes, the sweetest lips he’d ever tasted, and a will to match his own. Not to mention her pugilist of a brother. “Remind me where Anne hid last time?” he prompted the butler.

“No one can find Lady Anne when she does not want to be found, Your Grace. We usually have to let her come out on her own.”

This time, he wasn’t willing to allow Anne to hide and sulk. “Pull all the servants from their posts. Find my daughter.”

Wilkins nodded and set about his task.

“Leave no stone unturned. No corner unsearched.” He would find her. And then he would… well, he didn’t know what he would do. But he would make certain this was the very last time she hid from them in a wardrobe. Or bit a governess. Or ran away.