DisobediencebyDesign (21 page)

The
swoosh
of her tugging at her taffeta skirts
distracted him back to the reality of her sitting across from him in the
carriage.

“Miss Colney, are you comfortable?”

She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Mr. Peel. I am but I’m still
getting used to such finery.”

“Today’s fashions are rather extreme, are they not?”

She flushed briefly, possibly at the reference to what was
under her skirt. “Yes. In this one regard I am glad to be a servant. Our
clothes and underpinnings are a bit more practical.”

“You look beautiful.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

Heat prickled his skin.
Christ!
Had he just said that
out loud?

She looked away, not out the window as the shades were
drawn, just
away
. She sucked in her lips, chewing on the bottom one for
a bit, then looked down at her hands.

Surely he should say something.

Anything.

Now was as good a time as any.

He got up and moved to her side to her utter astonishment—or
was it horror? Boldly he took her hand, which trembled inside her glove. He
understood. His palms were sweating inside his gloves too.

“Miss Colney—Anna, please, you’ve touched my heart. My
thoughts are filled with images of you—”

She pulled her hand away. “Mr. Peel, you mustn’t.”

“
Geoffrey
…it’s Geoffrey. And what mustn’t I do?
Declare my desire for you?”

She gasped.

“Tell you I find you the most enthralling woman alive?”

She clenched her hands together and looked away again.

“That your honest beauty enchants me?”

“Please, Mr. Peel, you must stop.” Her meek voice trembled.

She glanced at him and in that brief moment he saw she was
crying.

“Darling, Anna!”

He found his handkerchief and held it out for her. She took
it tentatively.

Geoffrey sat back against the squabs. “I apologize. I meant
no offense.”

“I am flattered, Mr. Peel, believe me. And I know you are a
man of honor and integrity, otherwise the earl would not trust you with his
interests. But the difference in our stations may have incited you to passions
that should not be expressed. I beg you not to pursue the matter.”

“The difference in our stations? Miss Colney, you must
believe me when I say—” He stopped. The heat rose in his face again, this time
from mortification. “My God, you must think me vile. I would never,
have
never tried to seduce a servant.”

She turned her head away. “I don’t think you vile, sir,” she
said in a hushed tone.

“I’m not sure I ever thought you a servant.” He crossed his
arms. “It’s just these circumstances that have inspired me. We’ve never been
alone for very long. I…well, I’ve wanted to say things to you.” He best just
say it. “I mean to court you, Miss Colney.”

“Court me?” She twisted in his direction, her face pale with
shock.

The carriage lurched, thrusting them both forward.
Instinctively Geoffrey held his arm out to prevent her from falling onto the
floor. Her bosom crushed against his elbow. His body immediately and inexorably
responded.

When the carriage stopped she righted herself, abashed and
flushed. “I’ve never been courted before.”

“Never?”

“Perhaps a childhood infatuation paid me mind. But nothing
since.”

His heart picked up its pace. “Would you like to be courted
now?”

“Mr. Peel—”

“If position in society were not an issue?”

“But it is.”

He drew in a breath. “Miss Colney, my father may hold a
title but it does not come with much wealth or property. While he is alive I
remain a commoner. I have to earn my living and will continue to do so once I
inherit the viscountcy. With the Richmonds you lived in much grander
circumstances than I ever did. We may have been born to different stations but
now we find ourselves in the same situation with an uncertain future. So, Miss
Colney, I ask with all the fervor a man of my station can muster, may I hold
your hand?”

She smiled a gentle smile. “Yes, Geoffrey, that would be
lovely.”

His heart thrummed joyously as she tugged off her right
glove one finger at a time then lay her bare hand on the seat between them. The
pounding of his heart grew to a crescendo as he took off his left glove and
placed his hand over hers, grasping her delicate fingers. She was soft and
warm. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The driver rapped lightly on the roof.

Geoffrey opened the hatch. “Yes?”

“It’s the duke, sir,” the coachman hissed quietly. “It’s why
we’re stopped.”

“Thank you.” Geoffrey shut the trap. “It’s Royston,” he
muttered.

“Oh God.” All color drained from her face. “I don’t want to
see him.”

“Neither do I.”

Voices—Royston’s and perhaps that of a man of his—filtered
into the carriage from outside.

“Don’t tell me what I can do, boy!” Royston was just on the
other side of the carriage door.

Anna pressed herself against the pillowed leather of the
carriage seat, screwing her eyes shut, gripping Geoffrey’s hand for dear life.

At that moment he knew something had happened between her
and the duke. Something terrible. And he was going to do every damn thing in
his power to protect her now.

The door opened with a violent urgency. Royston shoved his
head inside and glanced around.

“What the devil is going on here?” he bellowed.

Geoffrey tried to steady his fraying nerves. “Your Grace?”

“You know damn well what I mean, Peel. Where the bloody hell
is Sophia?”

“I really don’t know, Your Grace.”

Royston eyed Anna. “Where is your mistress?”

Geoffrey squeezed her hand in support.

“Damn strumpet! Where is she?”

Anna paled to ashen. “I—I do not know, Your Grace,” she
answered quietly.

Royston slammed his fist on the outer wall of the carriage. “Be
assured that no matter what you are up to I will find her. I will find her and
her indigent colonial lover and I will have him tried for seduction and breach
of contract.”

“But there was never an official engagement,” Geoffrey
blurted.

“You think you are so damn clever,” Royston grunted. He gave
Anna the once-over, his lips twisted in a lascivious grin. “You’ll find her an
easy lay, Peel. Doesn’t put up much of a struggle.” He shoved the carriage door
shut with a crash.

Anna quivered, her breaths puffing rapidly.

“Darling?” Geoffrey wrapped his arm around her shoulders and
drew her to him.

She tried to pull away then relented as she began to cry,
her body shaking convulsively.

He gently urged her head to his shoulder. She slumped
against him, nuzzling his chest, sobbing, her arms wrapping around his waist.

Sophia and Joseph were miles away, probably a safe distance
with a good enough lead to get them to Scotland unhindered. And Royston would
leave him and Anna alone from now on. Well…sort of.

Clearly whatever evil the duke had wrought would continue to
dog his victims.

Geoffrey knocked on the roof, indicating they should resume
their journey.

The driver poked his face through the hatch. “Where to, Mr.
Peel? Kings Cross? Or back to Lord Petersham’s?”

Anna needed a respite. They would go to Scotland. Do their
duty as witnesses then spend time along the coast. She would be safe and far
away.

“Kings Cross.”

Geoffrey caressed Anna’s back, looking forward to sharing a
private car with her, even if he merely held her in silence.

Her arms around him, nestled in the crook of his shoulder,
his hand stroking her back, Anna let the heat of Geoffrey’s body imbue hers
with an emotion she hadn’t felt for several months.

Safe
. Geoffrey Peel was safe.

Relief flooded over her and with it fresh tears. His hand at
her back stilled, pressing into her, steadying her as she shook with sobs.

“Geoffrey,” she began hoarsely, “what he said about me, I’m
sorry you had to hear it. I understand if it changes your feelings toward me.”

He drew her to him a little more, a sign he wasn’t letting
her go. “Tell me what happened, Anna.” A squeeze. “If you can.”

She sucked in a breath, the emotion of the memory catching
in her throat. “I had chaperoned Lady Sophia on an outing with the duke. He was
not pleased. He tried to get my lady alone and he almost succeeded but she fell
or was pushed, I don’t really know. I came to her aid. She told me later he
tried to kiss her and she did not want to be kissed by him. Then that night…” Her
voice wavered. She inhaled, detecting a comforting hint of pipe tobacco from
Geoffrey’s fine wool jacket. “That night he abused me. I did not struggle. He
threatened violence if I did.”

His chest rose and fell evenly, steadily, a momentary
shudder betraying the emotion he tried to calm within. “If I ever see him
again—” He exhaled and gave her another squeeze, crushing the brim of her
bonnet into her face.

She giggled.

“Anna, darling,” he said, lifting her chin to tug at her hat
strings, “let us not talk of this now.”

She let him take off her bonnet although she had to help.
And when the hat was off and their remaining gloves removed he rested into the
corner of the carriage bench and eased her back against him.

“Tell me a little about yourself.” His deep voice rumbled in
his chest under her cheek.

“My father was a vicar. He held the living at the Brampton
estate.” She glanced up at him. “I’m sure you know the place. It’s not far from
Harwell Hall. I was raised simply although educated far above my station. My
parents thought I should be a governess but I was recommended to the Richmonds
as a lady’s maid. I’ve been with Lady Sophia for almost five years.”

He nuzzled her with his nose, his breath hot on the crown of
her head. “I suppose I was at university with Arthur when you first arrived.”

“Yes, I do believe Lord Petersham was at Cambridge at the
time.”

He brushed his lips across her hair then kissed her lightly,
the intimacy bathing her with a joyous warmth.

“Geoffrey…” She paused briefly to breathe courage. “You
should know I am not a maid.”

He tightened his hold. “Good God,” he hissed. “Royston?”

She chilled at the thought. “No. No. A boy at Brampton. I
won’t divulge his name. As I said, it was a mere infatuation.” She looked up at
him. “I thought you should know.”

He smiled. “And, Anna, you should know I am not without
experience myself.”

“Well there is all that kissing with Lady Sophia.”

He laughed with heartfelt amusement, dispelling the
lingering disquietude. “There hasn’t been much kissing with Lady Sophia since
the arrival of Joseph. But there was one night… It was…” He chuckled. “Well I’m
sure she was thinking of him.” He lifted a brow. “I was very definitely
thinking of you.”

“I should like it if you would think of me in that way.”

“May I do more than just imagine?” His lips parted in
anticipation.

She cupped his cheek. “Yes, Geoffrey. Please.”

He kissed her gently, tentatively until the flame of desire
could be contained no longer. His hand steadied her head as he plunged in, his
tongue seeking hers in the depths of her mouth, growling his satisfaction as
she opened for him, taking full advantage of what she offered.

It had been too long, much too long, the last time with him when
he thought her Sophia. Before that with Jonny Brampton. But the naive yearnings
of two sixteen year olds were meager compared to the fervor of maturity loosed
from societal dictates of self-denial, and passion shared with a longed-for
lover was far more exciting than a surprise kiss from a stranger.

He pulled back, pecking a trail along her tear-stained face
to her neck, the raw masculinity of his rough cheek spiking lust to coil in her
core.

“You’re wearing her perfume.”

She smiled broadly. Of course he would notice. “My lady
thought it a nice touch while we were changing gowns. I’m not sure I’ve ever
worn perfume.”

“It suits you.” He nibbled her neck. “But perhaps we can
find something unique so I won’t be reminded of her when I make love to you.”

The lust unwound, spreading deliciously between her thighs,
the sensual freedom heightened by his palm covering her breast. She wanted
nothing more than to bare herself to him, to have him inside her, to share the
joy for which woman and man were purposely created.

But she wanted so much more than that with him.

“Darling,” she began. “Geoffrey—”

“Yes, my love?” he asked, lazily drawing his tongue across
the seam of her lips.

“I think the courtship has gone as far as it ought for the
moment.”

He froze then sat back into the padded leather. “Of course,”
he murmured, his eyes wide in surprise or mortification. He was simply precious
with his tousled hair and disheveled collar.

“Don’t give me that look,” she scolded softly. “What I mean
to say is that I like kissing you but we are to do nothing further until you
have properly courted me.”

He grunted a chortle. “I suppose I was a bit too vigorous in
pressing my suit just now.”

“As was I.” She smiled. “But, darling, there is risk in
pursuing such a liaison. I need the assurance that your parents will accept
such a relationship.”

“Yours as well, I suppose.”

“I hardly think a vicar and his wife will refuse the offer
of a viscount’s heir.” She smoothed his hair back into place. “Your business
associates as well. Lord Petersham. I’m sure Mr. Phillips and Lady Sophia won’t
find it shocking.”

“No.” He chuckled. “Sophia will be miffed you did not
confide in her.”

“A lady’s maid does no such thing with her mistress.”

He took her hand between his. “Just think of the fun you
could have had switching places.”