Heartless (4 page)

She felt herself blushing. He was forever spouting poetry. It was so romantic, so courtly. “Shakespeare?” She knew how fond he was of the Bard, but this time she wasn't really sure.

He nodded.
“Richard II.”

Ariel sipped her tea, then carefully set the cup back down in its saucer. “I should love to see it performed sometime.”

“Then I shall make it a point to take you.” He reached out and caught both of her hands. “My dearest Ariel. You must know the way I feel.”

She glanced down at the hands holding hers, soft, pale hands, the hands of a gentleman. Her heart beat almost painfully. Surely it was too soon for him to speak of marriage.

“I don't … don't know what to say.”

Phillip glanced to the door, which Ariel hadn't realized was closed, eased her nearer, then pulled her into his arms. “I realize we haven't known each other long, but sometimes, when two people share such a strong attraction, time isn't important. I must kiss you, my darling Ariel. I have thought of nothing else since the moment I first saw you. I've gone half-mad thinking about it.”

Ariel felt suddenly uneasy. As Phillip had said, they'd been seeing each other for little more than a week. “Phillip, I don't think—”

His lips cut off her words. She had never been kissed before, but she had dreamed about it often. Though the sensation was pleasant, there was none of the fire she had imagined, none of the glorious passion. She gasped as she felt Phillip's hand on the underside of her breast, and he took full advantage, sliding his tongue inside her mouth.

Shock jolted through her. What was he thinking of to take such liberties? Did he believe she was the sort of woman who would allow a man she barely knew to touch her so intimately? Determined to end the kiss, she tried to twist free, shoving her hands against his chest just as Phillip abruptly jerked away, surging to his feet so fast he nearly knocked her off the sofa.

He was breathing hard, his hands tightly clenched. “Greville…” was all he said.

She hadn't heard the door swing open. Now, as she struggled to comprehend what was happening, she saw that a man stood just inside the drawing room. He was several inches taller than Phillip, with a dark complexion and jet-black hair. His mouth was set, his jaw clenched so hard it appeared cast in stone. Eyes the color of pewter sliced into her like a knife blade.

“Who … who are you?” she asked, the icy chill of his gaze making it difficult to force out the words.

“I believe your … companion … knows well enough who I am.”

Phillip turned confused blue eyes in her direction. “I thought you said Greville was your cousin.”

“I said that, but this isn't—”

The tall man made a stiff, formal bow of his head. “Justin Ross, Fifth Earl of Greville, at your service, madam.” Rage, barely controlled, dripped from every word. When he turned those fierce gray eyes on Phillip, she could have sworn he flinched. “Miss Summers and I have business to discuss,” the earl said curtly. “I believe, Mr. Marlin, it is in your best interest to leave.”

Wordlessly Phillip rose from the sofa, his pale hands still clenched into fists. A blast of cold seemed to pervade the room as the two men stared at each other. Phillip clamped his jaw, turned, and walked toward the door.

“Phillip … wait!” But he only kept on walking, out of the room and down the hall, his footsteps a chilling, hollow echo as they receded.

Ariel fixed her attention on the man beside the door. “I don't … don't understand what is happening.”

His smile could have frozen steel. “What is happening, my dear, is that my father, the fourth Earl of Greville, was good enough to die some two years past, leaving his title to me.”

Ariel nervously wet her lips. “The earl … the earl is dead?” She was having trouble grasping what he said. Everything seemed to be spinning around just outside her reach.

“The former earl is dead. I'm Justin Ross, the fifth and current Lord Greville, the man who has been paying for your finery, for your room, board, and education. As you might imagine, it comes to a very tidy sum.”

“Yes, I-I'm sure it does. That is one of the things I wished to speak to the earl—I mean you—about.” Dear God, the earl was dead. She didn't really know him, hadn't seen him in more than four years, but she had been certain that he was the one who'd been helping her.

“I believe you spoke to the earl about those things some time back. I believe the two of you came to an arrangement more than four years ago.”

She swallowed, forced a little courage into her spine. “I suppose at the time we did.”

“As I understand it, in exchange for your education and expenses, you agreed, upon reaching your maturity, to become the earl's mistress.”

Bluntly spoken, but true. “Yes, but I … I was younger then. I didn't exactly realize—”

“You're some years older now, nearly nineteen, if I recall, no longer an innocent young girl—as evidenced by your conduct with Mr. Marlin.” Ariel blanched. “You've received an extensive, extremely costly education. I would imagine during that time you came to understand exactly the bargain you made—is that not so?”

Misery washed over her. Her stomach rolled with nausea. “Yes.”

“Still, you accepted the money I sent you, let me pay your tuition.”

“Yes.”

“You allowed me to purchase your clothing—that gown, for instance, that you are wearing.”

Unconsciously she smoothed the lovely apricot silk, her fingers brushing a row of delicately embroidered roses. A painful knot rose in her throat. “Yes.”

“Since that is the case, the bargain must remain.”

Tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked several times, refusing to let them fall. “Yes.…” Her throat ached. Dear God, she had never believed it would actually come to this.

The earl turned and started walking, making his way the several short paces into the hall outside the carved double doors. He was tall and lean and dark, and the powerful presence he exuded seemed to remain in the room even as he walked away. Pausing, he turned once more to face her.

“I require your presence upstairs, Miss Summers.” He didn't bother to wait, simply started walking again, certain she would follow. Sick with dread, she did, letting him move ahead of her as if he were the master and she the slave, ignoring the insult, continuing up the wide stone staircase, along the sconce-lined hall, and into the master suite.

She had never been inside the rooms before. Now she noticed in some vague corner of her mind the dull blue Turkish carpet, the faded velvet draperies that thinned the weak sun trying to press through the mullioned windows. Not surprisingly, the huge suite of rooms was as dark and dreary as the rest of the house.

Lightning cracked outside. Gray, angry clouds blotted the sun, the storm now a full-fledged gale. With an eerie hiss, the wind thrust its way beneath the windowsill. Ariel's footsteps slowed as the earl passed the marble-topped furniture in the sitting room and continued on into his bedchamber. He didn't stop until he reached the foot of his massive four-poster bed.

For a moment she paused, her heart pounding raggedly. She could feel his eyes on her, wintry gray, cold as the north wind blowing outside the house. He stood there waiting, his expression glacial as she slowly, tentatively, made her way toward him, stopping just inside the bedchamber door.

“Close it,” he commanded. Icicles dripped from his voice. Instead of the hot rage her father had unleashed on her as a child, the earl's chilling fury slid toward her in frozen sheets that were far more terrifying.

She bit down on her trembling lip and did as he said, quietly setting the latch into place with a shaking hand.

“Come here … Ariel.”

She didn't want to. Dear God, she wanted to turn and run. Still, she wasn't a coward, had never been a coward. She had survived her father's beatings. Somehow she would get through this.

Pride stiffened her spine. She walked toward him on legs that felt wooden, praying they would continue to hold her up.

“A bargain was made,” he said. “I have fulfilled my part. Now it is your turn to do so. You will remove your clothes. I wish to see what I have purchased with my hard-earned money.”

For several long seconds she simply stared at him in horrified disbelief. “I couldn't … couldn't possibly—”

“If I hadn't arrived when I did, you would have removed them for Marlin. You will do so now for me.”

A shudder of fear slid down her spine and she bit back a sob that tried to escape from her throat. Dear God, this couldn't be happening! Of all the scenarios she had envisioned, none of them were as terrible as this. Her eyes were burning, threatening to fill with tears. She forced them away, determined not to cry in front of the coldhearted beast who was now the earl.

Instead she lifted her chin. “You're mistaken, my lord. I would not have let Phillip take … take liberties with my person.”

A fine black brow arched up. “No?” His lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. “And that little scene I witnessed in the Red Room? Are you going to stand there and tell me I imagined the two of you entwined in a lovers' embrace?”

Ariel bit down on her lip. It was only a kiss and yet, from the start, something about it had felt wrong. “What … what you saw was a mistake. Neither of us intended for that to happen.”

His brows pulled together in a dark angry line and his mouth flattened out. He strode toward her, his expression thunderous, and unconsciously she took a step away. “If you believe Phillip Marlin did not plan your seduction then you are a bigger fool than I am. Now remove your clothes—or I shall remove them for you.”

Tears filled her eyes. She blinked furiously, trying to stop them, finally succeeding. Courage came from somewhere deep inside her, a place scourged into her by the cruelties her father had inflicted. He could beat her, but he could never break her.

Neither would the earl.

Turning, she presented her back to him, standing ramrod straight though her legs were shaking. “You will have to help me with the buttons.”

The earl moved forward. She could hear his shiny black shoes making a muffled sound on the carpet. He ignored the buttons and instead she felt the heat of his fingers at the nape of her neck as he took hold of the gown and ripped it open to the waist.

The sob in her throat tore free, but when she turned to face him, those flat gray eyes held not a single trace of pity.

“Now, do as I said. Take off the dress.” He took a few steps backward, as if he wished to view her distress from a more casual distance.

Her hands were trembling. She gripped the delicate apricot silk and slid the ruined dress off her shoulders.
Such a beautiful gown,
she thought fleetingly, each one so precious to her, a woman who had never owned such lovely things. She tried to think of something she might say, some way to make him understand what had happened between her and Phillip, but one look at his face told her the effort would be futile.

She stood in front of him in only her slippers, white silk stockings, satin garters, and fine lawn chemise, the fabric so transparent it revealed the faint pink circles of her nipples, the pale hair between her legs. Her face turned scarlet as those cold silver-gray eyes moved slowly over her breasts. They traveled past her waist, down her legs, to her ankles, then returned to her face.

“Remove the pins from your hair. I wish to see how it looks around your shoulders.”

Ariel bit the inside of her cheek, not sure she had the courage to continue. A shiver rippled through her, then another. She couldn't bear to think what the dark, forbidding earl intended to do. The thought returned that she should run, make at least some effort to save herself. But she didn't believe for a moment the angry, predatory man who stood across from her would ever let her escape.

Instead, she steeled herself and did as he said, praying God would intercede and some miracle would occur, hoping she could think of a way to save herself. Her fingers were shaking so badly she couldn't hold onto the pins. They made soft pinging sounds when they hit the wooden floor at the edge of the carpet. When the last pin was removed, her pale hair tumbled down past her shoulders.

“Now the shift.”

Oh, dear God. Fresh tears sprang into her eyes and this time she could not stop them. They brimmed over and slid down her cheeks. “Please…” she whispered. “I'm sorry about what happened. I know I shouldn't have let him come in, but I had no idea he was going to kiss me.”

His jaw clenched. She closed her eyes against the sight of his tall, hard frame bearing down like a vision from hell. He stopped directly in front of her, his hands reaching out to grip her shoulders.

“I'm not a fool, Ariel. It's obvious Phillip Marlin is your lover. Since that is the case, from this day forward, you will simply warm my bed instead of his.”

Her lover? Misery crashed over her in great numbing waves. She only shook her head. “Phillip isn't … my lover. I've never … No one has ever … That was the first time anyone has ever kissed me.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders almost painfully. “You're lying.”

“I'm telling you the truth.” She stared into the stark planes of his face. “We only just met last week. I was walking in the park and he … he simply appeared. Today we went for a ride in his carriage. It was starting to rain, so I … I asked him in to tea. Then he kissed me.”

Thunder crashed outside, shaking the windows. Another bolt of lightning stabbed into the overcast sky, illuminating the shadowy angles of his face. Ariel caught a flash of something in his eyes she hadn't expected. Something stark and filled with pain. Something he hadn't meant for her to see.

His long dark fingers dropped away. For the first time, he appeared uncertain. “You're not saying … You're not telling me that you are still a virgin?”