Authors: Kat Martin
Ariel's eyes widened in shock.
“When he saw you that night and believed you'd gone to Phillip, just as Margaret had done, he must have gone a little bit insane.”
Her lips trembled, but her chin went up. “He should have asked me about it, at least let me explain. He should have had faith in me. Instead he believed that I was like ⦠like her. I am not the least bit like that.”
“Justin was wrong, Ariel. He made a mistake. But all people make mistakes. In the past, Justin has been hurt very badly. That makes him more wary, more guarded than most. But he isn't a fool. He's a man who learns from his errors. He won't make the same one again.”
Ariel said nothing, but her eyes held an ocean of pain.
“Think about it,” Clay said gently. Her troubled gaze followed him as he turned and walked away.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Wearing a gown of amethyst silk that revealed an ample portion of her milk-white breasts, Barbara Ross Townsend floated through the high, gilded double doors of the elegant Rose Salon of Greville Hall. Sunlight streamed in through the tall damask-draped windows in front of the house and glittered on delicate crystal chandeliers.
Barbara smiled at the golden-haired man who awaited her, coming to his feet the moment she slipped through the doors.
“Lady Haywood ⦠Barbara. I came as quickly as I could.”
“Phillip, darling, it's marvelous to see you.” She clasped his waiting hands, and Phillip leaned forward to kiss each of her cheeks.
“You look lovely as always.” He smiled. “We didn't have nearly enough time in London. I've thought of you every moment since you left.”
She had known Phillip Marlin for years but until lately had paid him little attention. Not until her latest visit to London. She'd been a guest of Lady Cadbury, there to attend the marchioness's annual soiree. Phillip had been in attendance, as well, and they had danced several times together. He was solicitous and attentive, more so once he sensed her interest was returned.
Several times in the past he had let it be known he found her attractive, an appeal perhaps heightened by the enmity that existed between him and her half brother. Until lately, she had ignored his overtures. Now she was glad she had waited.
Barbara knew well her appeal to men. With her black hair, fair skin, and pale gray eyes, she had a sensual, slightly exotic air that men found irresistible, and her one unpleasant experience with childbirth hadn't marred the beauty of her body. Her rose-tipped breasts stood high and her waist remained trim. She had all the feminine attributes a man like Phillip Marlin found enticing, and being Justin's half sister made her even more so.
After their evening at the soiree, Phillip had asked her to dinner. At the end of their third evening together, they had begun a torrid affair.
Barbara smiled as his eyes drifted down for a slow perusal of her breasts. “Your message sounded urgent. You said there was a matter of importance we needed to discuss.”
“There is. But now that you are here, we'll have plenty of time for that later.” She lightly caressed his jaw, then took his face between her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers for a kiss. Beneath his coat, his heartbeat quickened. She felt the thickening bulge of his arousal and inwardly she smiled. “Why don't we go upstairs for a while? Perhaps ⦠afterward ⦠we'll both feel more in the mood for a serious conversation.”
Phillip's sensuous lips curled up at the corners. “I believe I would like that.” He kissed her again, more deeply this time, sliding his tongue into her mouth, pressing her body against the hardness between his legs. “Yes, I believe I would like that very much.”
It was two hours later before they had the discussion for which she had summoned him. She was pleased to discover Phillip was even more agreeable to her proposition than she had hoped he would be.
They left the bedchamber and returned downstairs, Barbara holding onto his hand. She had envisioned a leisurely afternoon, but instead a messenger arrived, and her plans were forced to change.
“I can't believe this! Of all the gall.” She handed the note to Phillip. “He is coming here today. No warning, no notice, just arriving as if it were his right.” Which of course it was, but that didn't matter to Barbara. “I'm afraid you'll have to leave, darling. I'm sorry you came such a distance for nothing.”
“Hardly for nothing.” Phillip's mouth curved. His eyes ran over her body in a slow, heated glance that was a pointed reminder of the things they'd done upstairs. “Knowing Greville, he won't stay long. Not when he has so many pressing business matters waiting for him back in London.”
Barbara lifted her long black lashes and gave him a seductive smile. “You'll come back once he's gone?”
“Of course, darling.” He walked up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and drew her back against his chest. “We've a number of details to work out, and there are other”âhe kissed the side of her neckâ“even more enticing reasons for a visit.”
Barbara smiled and turned to face him, her fingers gliding over the lapels of his coat. “I'll send word as soon as he leaves. In the meantime, perhaps you will think of a way to implement our plan.”
“Indeed, perhaps I shall.” A long, lingering kiss, and then he was gone.
Barbara smiled to think how easy he was to manage, how similar their interests and desires, and how, with his help, she had so cleverly set things into motion. Then she thought of the man who would soon be arriving at the house and her satisfied smile slid away.
Justin Bedford Ross was her nemesis, a thorn in her side since the day she had discovered his existence, an interloper who had stolen her son's rightful heritage. Dear God, how she hated him.
Almost as much as she hated the man who had adopted him and made him the Greville heir.
Her father, the man who had ruined her life.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The journey to Greville Hall was made mostly in silence, Justin's mood dark, Ariel's mind whirling with thoughts she couldn't seem to rein in.
Because I care about you! Is that so terribly hard to believe?
Justin's words rolled around in her head. A week ago she would have said yes, it was impossible to believe. She would have been convinced that the Earl of Greville cared for no one but himself. That he was cruel and vicious, that he had enjoyed using her and sending her away.
But that had been before he had returned to Lord Horwick's to beg her to forgive him. Before she had been thrown into prison and he had come for her, carried her away from that terrible place, his expression so bleak, so filled with self-loathing that a painful band had tightened around her heart.
Before she had awakened and found him holding her hand.
Now as she looked at him, sitting on the carriage seat across from her, his unseeing gaze fixed out the window, his thoughts even further away, she remembered the story Clay had told her of the girl Justin had loved and how she had so cruelly betrayed him. His father had denied him. His mother had abandoned him. Who had ever loved him?
No one but her.
The thought brought a sharp, unexpected jolt of pain. She had loved him once. That love was dead now, buried so deep she could never find it again. Never wanted to find it again.
Or was it?
From beneath her lashes, she studied the hard set of his jaw and remembered how it softened in slumber, making him look almost boyish. She remembered the fiercely protective gleam in his eyes when he told her she would never have to go back to prison. The tender way he looked at her when he thought she didn't see.
Ariel shook her head. She was fantasizing, imagining things, pretending he was something he would never be. Even if he cared for her, he didn't love her. Justin was a man incapable of love. He simply didn't possess that sort of emotion.
The turbulent thoughts continued, banging around in her head until an ache began to throb at her temples. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the tufted velvet cushions, listening to the rattle of harness, the rumble of carriage wheels rolling along the dirt lane, determined to force her mind in a different direction.
She tried to concentrate on what she would do with her future, once the scandal had died and she was once more on her own. He would help her make a new start, she now believed. At least in that small way she was certain he had told her the truth. Anything more, she refused to consider.
One thing was certain. She couldn't let her guard down, not even for an instant. If she did, those penetrating looks and sultry glances would begin to summon memories she didn't dare recall. Memories of how it had felt when he kissed her, touched her, made love to her. How her blood sang when he was inside her. If she thought of those things, she would want him again, and wanting him might lead to loving him. It was a fate she didn't dare risk. She had survived loving him once. She couldn't do it again.
She couldn't survive another crushed and bleeding heart.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Greville Hall was even more magnificent than Ariel remembered. In the years since she'd been away, she had forgotten the way the huge house nestled in the sheltered green valley like a pearl among the rolling hills, the way the pale yellow stone glinted so softly in the sunlight. Standing three stories tall with majestic gabled roofs, a sea of chimneys, and a lovely gilded dome that reached more than seventy feet into the blue November sky, the house seemed to sparkle like the jewel it was.
The carriage rolled to a stop beneath a white-columned veranda that sheltered guests on their arrival, and a footman opened the door. Wide stone steps stretched across the front of the house, and Ariel felt Justin's hand at her waist as she climbed to the top and went in through one of the massive double doors the butler held open.
“Welcome to Greville Hall, my lord.”
“Thank you. Perkins, isn't it?”
The aging butler beamed that the earl, who had only been to the house on one occasion, had been able to remember his name. “Yes, my lord. Harold Perkins.” While Justin spoke to the man about matters pertaining to the house, Ariel stared in awe at the magnificent entry. Above their heads, light streamed in through a huge gilded dome brightened by stained-glass windows. Deep ruby reds, emerald greens, and sapphire blues cascaded down on ancient Roman statues and gilt-framed paintings that lined the walls.
“It's incredible,” she whispered when Justin joined her and offered his arm. “More beautiful than I ever imagined.”
Something softened in those cool gray eyes. “Since you like it so much, we shall have to take a tour. I warn you, though, I have no idea where we might wind up. I've never been through the house myself.”
How odd, Ariel thought, to own such a treasure and never explore it. If she were mistress of Greville Hall, she would know every crook and cranny, every painting on the wall, every flower in the garden.
Then she heard the sharp, shrill sound of his sister's angry voice. Barbara Townsend strode into the entry, and Ariel knew exactly the reason Justin had never spent time in the house.
“I see you have arrivedâat precisely the time your note advised. Always so prompt, so totally predictableâso utterly and completely boring.”
Justin's expression remained bland. “Since that is the case, we shall make it a point to spare you our company as much as possible.”
Barbara arched a brow. Though her lips curled up, there was nothing friendly in the smile she cast in his direction. “Even so, you shan't want for company while you are here, will you? Not with your pretty little whore to keep you entertained. Why bother with propriety? Just because your innocent young nephew happens to reside in the house, why should that prevent you from dragging your mistress along?”
Justin's expression tightened, turned icy hard. His jaw was set, his eyes such a frigid dark gray they looked almost black. One of his hands balled into a fist and a muscle ticked in his cheek.
His piercing gaze sliced like a knife into his sister. “You're mistaken, my dear. Ariel isn't my mistress.” His eyes swung to Ariel but only for an instant; then his mouth tightened into a cold warning line. “She is soon to be my wife.”
The breath Ariel hadn't known she was holding slipped from her lungs. Justin's gaze returned, locked with hers, and didn't move away. She read its plea more clearly than any words he had ever spoken.
Don't say no. Let me do this for you.
Even if marriage hadn't been his intention before they stepped inside the house, there was no doubt he meant every word. He would marry her. He would protect her from cruel, vicious people like his sister. He didn't love her, but he would give her his name, give her a future.
His eyes remained on hers for a split second longer, and in their dark, smoky depths Ariel caught a glimpse of something else, something she hadn't expected, something so potent, so powerful, she had to steady herself on legs that suddenly turned shaky.
There was no mistaking the look in those dark, stormy eyes, no mistaking the need, the terrible yearning, unlike anything she had ever seen in his eyes before. There was no way to miss the silent prayer that willed her to say yes. It stunned her with the force of an icy wind, and in that moment she knew that the love she had felt for him had never really died. It was there in her heart as it had always been. There reaching out to her, making itself known.
She loved him and watching his face, seeing the terrible longing that hid beneath his cool, emotionless facade, she had no choice but to marry him. She would take any risk, no matter how great, no matter how dangerous, against the chance that one day he might love her in return.
Tears burned her eyes. No words would come and even if they had, she couldn't have said them. Instead she stepped toward him, reached out, and gently took hold of his hand. His fingers laced with hers, tightened almost painfully. He drew her closer, slid an arm possessively around her waist.