Devotion (23 page)

Maria frowned. "I'll simply convince him that I only want to help."

Thaddeus dropped onto the blanket beside her and proceeded to chew on a blade of grass. "'E ain't ever had much respect for kith or kin. Not as long as I've worked for '
im
, at least, which is
goin
' on five or six years. Thought the world owed '
im
cause 'e was first born to a duke,
then
became duke himself when 'e was only ten. 'Is folk drowned,
ya
know, off the coast of Africa. Sharks ate their bodies whilst their sons watched." Silent for a while, he stared out over the moor with its sprawling patches of sienna heather. "I reckon that could do
somethin
' to a man's mind and heart.
And
speakin
' of heart.
You left any broken hearts back in
Huddersfield
?"

"Broken hearts?"

"Heartsick beaus.
Men friends.
I bet you 'ad a dozen of '
em
, pretty as you are."

She shook her head and watched a yellow-crested finch hop along a bough overhead. Thaddeus was flirting with her
again,
and not so subtly this time. He had bathed and donned clean breeches; his boots shone. Even with her limited experienced, Maria recognized that there were certain changes that came over a man when he became interested in a woman—something about the eyes: they became . . . searching and eager, almost . . . hungry. She had seen it in John's eyes a time or two, before he had reminded himself that all passion was to be directed heavenward. She had also witnessed it in Paul's, when he had fancied the wife of the blacksmith who had ultimately broken his back.

She had no desire whatsoever to see it reflected in Thaddeus's pale eyes. The very idea of it made her shiver, as did the sudden, unwelcome image of his squirming atop Molly . . . and that there was little of her own anatomy that he had not had visual privy to.

"His Grace should be rousing from his nap at any time," she announced, and reached for the quill and paper.

Thaddeus caught her chin between his fingers. His eyes searched her face intensely. "Don't
ya
ever get tired of
talkin
' 'bout nothin' but '
im
?"

"'Tis my lot, Thaddeus
. '
Twas what I was employed to do, to see to his needs. There is something to be said for loyalty, you know."

"Aye, but
ya
can carry loyalty to extremes. Now take yerself, for instance.
A lovely lass
such as you should be
daydreamin
' 'bout beaus and such.
'Bout
findin
' yer
ownself
a
lifemate
and
settlin
' down to birth a dozen babes or so."

"I suppose I shall," she replied with a lift of her chin and a rise of one eyebrow. Pointedly, she added, "When I find a man who suits me."

He leaned toward her, a crooked smile on his face. "And
wot
kinda
man would that be?"

"I . . . don't know."

"I reckon he would be young, and tall, and strong. Someone
like
—"

"I fear you're becoming outrageously bold," she declared.

"Wot if I am?"

"I should remind you of Molly, I think."

"Molly!" His eyes widened briefly,
then
narrowed. His ruddy cheeks turned even redder. "
Ya
can't blame a lad for
takin
'
wot's
freely given. We've got needs,
ya
know.
Same as women."
Leaning closer, he said silkily, "Take you, for example. Lass as lovely as you, with a body that would make any man ache with
wantin
'
ya
. It's enough to make me heart stop. I ain't thought about anything or anyone else since you come to Thorn Rose. Molly's just some
dollymop
with an itch I scratch every now and again."

She caught her breath as he pressed closer, brushed his lips across her cheek, and flicked her earlobe with his tongue. As she shied away, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it fiercely. "Need I remind you, Thaddeus, that / am
not
a
dollymop
," she cried with conviction.

"O' course yer not," he declared with a look that made her eyes widen. "
Ya
can't help that yer shapely enough to make a man crazy with
wantin
'
ya
.
That
ye've
got a way of
lookin
' at a man that makes '
im
'
ard
with desire.
It's them damn
eyes,
lass . . . yer tits don't help a mite either."

With a sudden move he shoved her back on the ground, pinned her shoulders with his arms and smugly grinned down at her as she continued to struggle. "I figured you for one of them hard-to-get lasses. Guess I was right, but I don't mind. Makes things
int'restin
', I wager."

She narrowed her eyes. It seemed her entire body turned hot.

"I bet you ain't ever even been kissed before, huh?" Thaddeus's reddish eyebrows shot up and he laughed. "Damn
me
but I'm right. Imagine that. A lass of your age, '
avin
' never been kissed."

"I hardly think there's anything wrong with that—"

"Course there is. It ain't natural," he declared in a raspy voice,
then
he planted his wet, open mouth on hers with a forcefulness that stunned her.

She didn't move, or breathe.
Just stared at his closed lids that were as freckled as his face and recalled Molly's face ravished with ecstasy and her body writhing with apparent pleasure.
On and on, the kiss continued until Thaddeus's breathing became ragged, his body tense and squirming, his long skinny leg dragging over hers and bunching her skirt up to her knee.

He grabbed her breast. She gasped and shoved his hand away, struggled to turn her face from his. The taste of his mouth made her feel ill suddenly, and angry.

"Enough," she said through her teeth, and at last extracted herself from him long enough to scramble to her knees. Her hair had fallen from its chignon and tumbled across one shoulder, and down one side of her face. Her mouth felt swollen and her cheek abraded.

Thaddeus grinned back at her, his face flushed with the same emotions as Molly had those nights before. "Liked it, didn't
ya
?" he asked hoarsely.

"Nay," she replied flatly, then wiped her mouth with the back of one hand.

"Sure
ya
did. A man can tell these things. A woman has a certain smell about her when she's
homy
—"

A bell rang in the distance. Briefly closing her eyes in relief, Maria jumped to her feet. He made a grab for her ankle, and she danced aside. "You grow far too familiar—"

"And whose fault is that?" he retorted,
then
grinned so lasciviously Maria blanched.

Maria fled for the house. Gertrude stood at the threshold, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in apparent displeasure. She tapped her foot.

"He's awake, lass, and as grouchy as a bear.
Ye'll
do well to put on yer best face for him this
evenin
'. And while yer at it
ya
might do
somethin
' 'bout yer hair; it's a bloody mess. And get rid of the grass on yer skirt tail—"

"Is there aught else wrong with me?" she demanded as she hurried down one corridor after another, Gertrude hot on her heels.

"Aye, there is: You can stay away from that ne'er- do-well of a stable boy. A lass like you can't afford to
'ave
'
er
reputation spoiled over the likes of '
im
."

"I doubt that the daughter of a meager vicar would warrant anyone better," she snapped so irritably Gertrude momentarily slowed her step,
then
hurried to catch up.

The servant followed Maria to her room, and while Maria made haste to brush out her hair and twist it back into its usual braided chignon, Gertrude flung open the wardrobe door and snatched the dress she had mended earlier in the day. "I'll be
washin
' the grass stains out of the one yer
wearin
'," the woman said with a huff of displeasure.

"For heaven's sake, you make it sound as if we were tumbling in the heather
. 'Twas only a kiss.
I didn't care much for it at that." Maria stared disconcertedly at her reflection in the mirror, her abraded lips.

Gertrude moved up behind her. Though her countenance was yet one of concern, her mien was agitated. "Heed me well, love. Twice we've lost good help 'cause o' '
im
: decent girls afore 'e got 'is roving hands on '
em
. Shamed they were, with a bastard brat in their bellies and '
im
unwillin
' to marry '
em
."

"You needn't worry about that," Maria declared firmly, and thinking of his hands on her again, she shivered.

"Famous final words from the mouths of innocents.
Will
ya
deny that
ya
find yerself attracted to him?"

"Aye!" she snapped. "I deny it."

"Then yer
lyin
' to yerself.
Ever'time
'e comes in the room
ya
go all flushed and bothered."

She opened her mouth to argue that the only reason she grew flushed and bothered was because she had seen the man butt naked and fornicating with Molly on the kitchen table, and he, in turn, had chanced a glimpse of her own self naked . . . thanks for her penchant for reverie. Instead, she kicked aside her dirtied dress and snatched the mended one from Gertrude's hand.

Gertrude shook her head and clucked her tongue. "I'll tell
ya
wot
yer dear mother told
ya
since
ya
were old enough to sprout tits: The goods God planted between a woman's legs was meant to give to one man and one man only-—the one true love of yer life. There ain't no greater gift, or sacrifice,
ya
can make in the name of love than yer maidenhood."

"My mother told me no such thing," she declared with a huff and made for Salterdon's door.

"Well if she didn't she should have," Gertrude called behind her.

With a groan of exasperation, Maria fumbled with the ribbons at her throat, grabbed up her straw basket of yarn balls, and ran to the duke's room, leaving Gertrude mumbling to herself.

As usual, Salterdon refused to acknowledge her when she joined him, but sat stonily, as always, before his window, the breeze kissing bright color on his cheeks.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I was . . ." Chewing her lip, she considered a hundred excuses for her tardiness, all of which were lies. "I was . . . writing to your grandmother," she hurriedly confessed, which wasn't a lie . . . nor was it the entire truth, she acknowledged with her habitual twinge of guilt.

He made a harsh sound—a laugh, deep in his throat, that made her start. The grunt was as offensive as it was surprising, and was as infuriating as any cryptic words he could have uttered. Then he turned his gray eyes up to hers, and his lips curved in so cynical a manner she took a step backward and glanced away, her gaze falling on the distant scene below his window of the patchwork quilt spread out beneath the leafless elm tree . . . where she and Thaddeus had visited only minutes before.

She briefly closed her eyes; her face flushed with heat. "Am I to be deprived completely of privacy?" she demanded hotly. "Am I to have no personal time for myself?" She flung the basket into his lap. "What I do with my off time is no one's business but my own."

He laughed again and continued to smirk. Eyes narrowed, he looked her up and down as if she were some tavern wench, causing her to set her chin and clench her teeth.