Bella and the Beast (36 page)

“Quite the contrary. Upon my father's death, I became Duke of Aylwin. If Sir Seymour had kidnapped an underage peer, the full force of the law would have been after him.”

Bella digested that for a moment. Perhaps Miles was right, her father had taken the best course of action under the circumstances. “Do you suppose the intruder was also looking for Papa's half of the map? And what if he's already found it?”

“It's possible,” Miles said rather grimly, as he took another leather-bound journal out of the crate. “That's why I do wish you'd told me about this map sooner. We're dealing with someone who may have already killed once.”

Bella couldn't have told him before now. She'd been too determined to find the treasure map on her own, too afraid that he would try to thwart her. It had taken her decision to leave Aylwin House to realize that she had nothing more to lose.

So she merely said, “Do you think the culprit might be William Banbury-Davis? He was in Egypt, too. Maybe he'd heard a rumor about the map and wanted it for himself. He very much resented my father for being chosen to go on the expedition instead of him. Perhaps he wanted the glory of discovering a lost tomb full of treasure.”

“I'm aware of all that.” Miles set down the journal and slid his fingers through hers. “Bella, you're to leave this investigation to me. If the map does indeed give directions to a trove of ancient treasure, there are those who would do great harm to get their hands on it. I won't have you putting yourself in danger.”

“I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “Yes, you are.” Then his fingers tightened around hers, his thumb stroking her palm. He looked very serious again. “But do listen to me, please. You've come to mean the world to me. If anything ever happened to you, I honestly don't know how I could go on living.”

Her heart turned over at the rough note of emotion in his voice. His eyes were steady on her, resolute and candid. The world faded away to just the two of them, alone in his study while the rest of the house slept. She could only think of how close they sat, how very much she yearned for him. Nothing else mattered to her but Miles, not the map, not the treasure, not even their quarrel. Could she truly mean so much to him? It seemed an impossible dream …

“Oh, Miles,” she murmured on a thread of longing.

She couldn't have said who made the first move. But then they were in each other's arms, and he was kissing her so deeply and tenderly that all resistance melted from her body. In some part of herself, she knew she ought not allow him, yet it felt so right to be held in his embrace that all of her objections faded into nothingness.

His hands roved up and down her back, playing with her hair, brushing her neck and ears with a light touch. She indulged her own need to stroke him, too, to reassure herself that he was real. Her fingers slipped beneath his coat to memorize his lean waist and the hard contours of his chest. A fever beat in her blood. How was it that he could stir her so completely, as if like the map, they were two parts that joined to become a whole? Her life would be bleak without him. And yet how could it be otherwise? Their situations were just too different, his station being so exalted, and hers so ordinary.

Miles drew back slightly, dropping gentle kisses over her brow, as if he were reluctant to give full vent to his desires. He caught her face in his palms so that she looked into his ardent dark eyes. “God help me, Bella, I do love you. I intend to marry you. I
need
to marry you.”

She trembled. He couldn't be serious. “It's only lust that makes you say so.”

“Yes, I do lust for you. How could I not?” He traced his thumb over her damp lips. “But that can't explain why you haunt me day and night. Or why I can scarcely bear to be apart from you. Or why you can twist my heart into knots with just a look or a word.” He gave her a fierce look as if to convince her by force alone. “You
will
be my wife.”

She had to be dreaming. How could he have changed his ironclad view of marriage so drastically in the space of a few hours?

She tried to make light of it. “Oh, Miles. Do you think to bully me with the Ducal Stare?”

“I'll do whatever it takes to coax you to say yes.” He kissed her lips tenderly. “Say it, my love. Please. I need you with me, always.”

A wistful sigh eddied from her as she touched his dear face, his jaw raspy with stubble. “I can't be a duchess. I don't know how.”

“Then I shall relinquish the dukedom,” he declared. “But one way or another, I
shall
wed you. And I'll devote myself to winning your heart. You'll come to love me, too, in time.”

She blinked in surprise. “Do you think that I don't—”

He placed his finger over her lips. “You said ‘my love' to me when we were in bed. I hoped then that you might—but when you also spoke the same to your brother, I realized it was merely a term of endearment.” Miles gave her a fervent look. “Marry me, darling, for I've enough love for both of us.”

Bella could no longer hold back the emotion that spilled from her heart, and she threw her arms around him. “Miles, of course I love you. You're my
dearest
love. And you needn't change anything about yourself. I adore you exactly as you are. Except—if I am to be your wife, you may
never
visit a bawdy house ever again!”

He chuckled. “You're my one and only. I promise you that.”

An exultant smile lightened his face before he kissed her again, even more feverishly this time, until she felt drunk from the pleasure of it. Then he stood, sweeping her up into his arms.

Looping her arms around his neck, Bella laughed. “What are you doing?”

His eyes gleamed with promise. “I can't properly make love to you here. It's high time you were introduced to the ducal bedchamber, where you'll be spending every night for the rest of our lives.”

A sparkle of excitement filled the evening, and she clung to him, nuzzling his neck as he carried her out into the corridor, his footsteps firm and strong. She could scarcely believe this moment was real and that Miles loved her. He passed through a doorway, kicking the door shut with his foot, and then walked into a large chamber lit by a lamp on the bedside table and the glowing embers on the hearth.

Miles set her down by the large canopied bed and they kissed and caressed while shedding themselves of the layers of their clothing. Then he laid her down on the cool sheets, and when she reached for him, he ordered, “Wait. You will allow me to please you first.”

For once she submitted to his command. It was just too impossible to resist the delight of his touch, for he had begun to stroke her all over, breasts, belly, thighs, moving down her legs to kiss the delicate tattoos that encircled her ankles. He worked his way back up to caress her everywhere, from the crook of her elbow to the valley of her bosom to the triangle of hair between her legs. He parted her there, plying her with his finger and then his tongue, so that she quivered with a fire that swiftly burned out of control.

Even as the rapture burst in her, he came down over her and she felt the pressure of him filling her. Instinctively she arched her hips to draw him in deeply and completely, for nothing had ever felt more right than being joined with Miles. He paused, breathing hard while gazing down into her slumberous eyes, a look of unguarded adoration on his face, an expression so tender that she feared again that she must be dreaming. “Bella,” he muttered. “You're mine. Forever.”

She tiptoed her fingers over the familiar contours of his face. “My dearest, dearest love.”

She couldn't form any more words as he began to thrust into her, slowly at first as she clutched his back and lifted herself to his rhythm, then harder and faster until she shattered around him, the waves of bliss spreading out and lapping every part of her body, while he groaned from his own release, voicing her name on a sharp cry.

In the aftermath, they lay in a sweaty tangle that felt like heaven. She loved the heaviness of him atop her and murmured a protest when he shifted position to take his weight from her. He chuckled deep in his chest and settled her close to the length of his body, tucking her head under his chin and planting a kiss in her tousled hair.

They whispered and talked about inconsequential matters. By unspoken agreement, they avoided the mystery of the missing map piece, for Bella wasn't yet ready to allow the outside world to intrude upon their idyll. Miles also revealed more about his visit to Lady Milford, admitting that he'd stubbornly proclaimed that he had no interest in marriage and then jesting that now he would have to allow the woman to gloat. “She had the temerity to say that she hoped I would fall in love with you. I blasted her with a denial in no uncertain terms.” He gave Bella a wry smile. “Yet her comment forced me to realize the truth—that I
do
love you. And the very thought that I could have driven you away filled me with dread.”

Bella rested her head on his shoulder, her hand idly stroking his chest. “I'm amazed that you could alter the beliefs of a lifetime.”

“Once I realized that I loved you, there was no turning back. I had to make you mine by marriage vows.” He tilted up her chin. “The sooner the better. I'll begin making the arrangements tomorrow.”

A swell of love and exhilaration expanded in her, along with a sense of rightness. They belonged together. “Oh, Miles, I do want to be your wife. So very much.”

She melted into him and they made love again, slowly and tenderly, relishing the beauty of it until they were both sated and drowsy. Miles fell asleep in her arms and she enjoyed the feel of him snuggled against her. He looked much younger and more relaxed with his eyes closed, the fan of his dark lashes lying against his cheeks. He'd had a lonely childhood with a stern father and an invalid mother, and Bella fiercely vowed to make him feel loved for the rest of their lives.

It occurred to her, then, that she had come here to Aylwin House looking for a missing map that would guide her to riches. Instead, she had found Miles. He was the real treasure, more precious to her than any tomb piled high with jewels and gold.

Yet the cold whisper of reality intruded on her bliss. Someone was looking for that map. And in the heat of their lust, she and Miles had left the papyrus fragment lying unguarded in the study.

 

Chapter 27

Bella tiptoed out of the ducal bedchamber, pausing in the doorway to take one last look at Miles. A deep, enduring love filled her heart. Sound asleep in the big shadowed bed, he lay on his side, the covers drawn up to his lean waist. He had stirred slightly when she had arisen, but he hadn't awakened. She had dressed silently, resisting the temptation to linger.

She dared not fall asleep and be discovered here in the morning by a maid coming to light the fire or Hasani gliding in to awaken his master. Such a circumstance would cause talk among the staff, and the gossip might spread to other households. If her reputation was tainted, it would reflect badly not only on Miles but her sister and brother, as well.

Yes, it was wise to depart now. But she didn't have to like it.

Resolutely, Bella turned and went out into the corridor. The hollow tapping of her footsteps sounded eerie in the darkness of the marble passageway. Before retiring to her own bed, she must secure the papyrus and lock her father's papers in the storeroom as a precaution.

Was
William Banbury-Davis the culprit? Could he have killed Miles's father in a quest to claim the map? The notion made her shudder. But if that was true, why had he never stolen the piece that belonged to Miles? After all, Banbury-Davis had acted as Miles's guardian in Egypt after her father had fled, and he'd have had ample opportunity to take it.

Was it possible the man didn't realize the map had been torn in two? Perhaps all this time, he'd believed that Bella's father had run off with the entire map.

The theory held merit, and she would have to tell Miles about it in the morning. He would decide upon a course of action, for he had the authority to see to it that Banbury-Davis was arrested for murder.

Bella entered the study to find the scene exactly as they'd left it, the fragment of papyrus lying on the mahogany desk, the branch of candles still burning. The bonging of the casement clock startled her, and she glanced up to check the time.

How surprising that it was only midnight. She felt as if she'd lived a lifetime in only a few short hours. An irrepressible smile curved her lips. Her circumstances had changed in a way she had never dreamed possible. Only this past afternoon, she had been miserable and hurting from Miles's furious denunciation of her. She had resolved to depart Aylwin House in the morning.

Instead, this grand mansion would now be her permanent home. She would marry Miles, become his duchess, bear his children. Her hand slipped over her midsection. Was it possible she had already conceived? Oh, how she yearned to present him with a son or daughter, to give Miles the happy family that he'd never known.

The thought put her in a cheerful state of mind, and she hummed tunelessly as she went to the third crate, the one they hadn't finished going through before love had distracted them. She decided to take a few of her father's journals to her bedchamber to examine before going to sleep. Reaching inside, Bella drew out several of the notebooks. As she did so, something slid out of the bottommost one.

She picked up a sealed, folded sheet and turned it over. A letter? On the front, written in her father's scrawling penmanship, were two names, first
The Marquess of Ramsgate.
That had been crossed out and
The Duke of Aylwin
written below it.

Her surroundings faded away and she saw herself as a little girl standing behind her father, watching him sprinkle sand on the ink and tapping it away. Then Papa had uttered an irritated sound, dipped his pen back into the inkwell, and crossed out the name, the quill scratching. There had been a hot breeze blowing through the tent, an impression of shimmering sunlight outside …