My Lord Wicked (Historical Regency Romance) (24 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Bolen

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BOOK: My Lord Wicked (Historical Regency Romance)
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Now her tears rolled freely upon pale cheeks, but she did not move to wipe them away. "How can I be destroyed by receiving the only thing I desire from life?"

He got up and took a few steps to a nearby chair, scooted it beside Freddie and took her hand in his. "The sins of my past prevent me from seeking happiness."

She held him in her steady, somber gaze. "Is it true you did not have sexual relations with Elizabeth?"

How had she known what he had never told anyone? All those months he denied himself of Elizabeth's beautiful body. "This is not a subject which I can discuss with a young maiden."

"But I am not a child, Thomas. I am a woman, a woman with passions and feelings. Though I am a virgin, I know of the desires between a man and a woman."

She was an extraordinarily precocious eighteen-year-old, and he wanted her more than ever. "You have no doubt heard about the many injuries my wife sustained."

"I have."

"You know it is said that I inflicted the injuries on her."

"I don't believe you're capable of it."

He smiled. It was a bitter smile. "I never knowingly injured Elizabeth."

"You did not want to hurt her nor did you desire to make love to her."

"I did make love to her." He closed his eyes as if he were in great pain. "There was a period of time when I was absent from her bed. Several months. I denied myself to protect her."

She looked away from him for a moment. When she turned back, her voice quivered with emotion. "Even if you were capable of inflicting pain on me, I would endure it for the pleasure of your love."

How could someone as evil as him ever deserve such devotion? "As I live, I do not deserve your sacred love," he cried out, springing from his chair to move to her.

She raised herself and flowed into his arms as he closed them about her. He wanted to savor the heavenly torture of her compliant body against his, the feel of her warm breath against his chest. The fingers of one hand drifted through her silken hair. She slowly, seductively lifted her head for a kiss. With an insatiable hunger borne of ten years of denial, borne of a love as pure as country air, he kissed her with incredible tenderness. His tongue slipped between parted lips, and he kissed her with all his heart.

Though his enlarged need caused him agony, he broke away from her, holding her at arm's length. "I cannot make love to you, my dear cherished one. I love you too dearly."

Her breathing labored, her eyes misty with despair and passion, she spoke with a quivering voice. "You shall never be free of me, Thomas. I was put on this earth to love you."

"You don't understand." He turned from her and walked to the window. With his back to her, he spoke. "I killed Elizabeth."

He turned to face her, to see horror flare in her searing eyes.

A knock sounded on the door, and Stacks told Eason to enter.

"A Sir Harold Lambeth, accompanied by two ladies, awaits your lordship in the great room."

Stacks and Freddie exchanged startled looks.

Stacks' eyes turned cold as agate. "Damn Julia Taylor!"

***

With each step Freddie took toward the great room, her heart pounded harder, her fear mounted. Had they come to take her away from Thomas? Could they? Mingled with her fears were the stunning revelations of the past hour. Thomas loved her!

Thomas had kissed her.

Thomas could not wed her.

Thomas had killed Elizabeth.

Uncle Harold, Aunt Dorothea and cousin Roxanne sat rigidly on one of the great room's sofas as she and Lord Stacks entered the room. Flashing broad smiles, all of them dressed far more formally than they would for travelling. Roxanne looked especially fetching in a lavender summer dress with a low neckline. Freddie, in a fickle pendulum swing, went from feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world to feeling quite ugly in her puritanical brown print muslin which came to her throat.

Uncle Harold leapt to his feet and bowed at Lord Stacks. "A pleasure to meet you, my lord. My brother spoke so very highly of you for so many years, I feel as if I know you."

Lord Stacks was all that was courteous. "A pleasure it is indeed to welcome you and your family to Marshbanks Abbey."

Uncle Harold turned to present his wife and daughter to the baron.

Aunt Dorothea curtseyed gracefully while babbling on and on about how happy she was to meet the fine gentleman who was so kind to her dear niece.

Freddie wanted to protest.

Then Roxanne dipped a curtsey, fluttered her long lashes, and spoke in her velvety voice. "How very pleased I am to make your acquaintance, Lord Stacks."

None of them had thought to offer greetings to Freddie.

"Do sit down and make yourselves comfortable," Lord Stacks said, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

Freddie also sat in a chair near the grouping of upholstered furniture.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" their host asked.

"We have been visiting friends in the Lake District, and I told Dorothea, 'why don't we just swing on over to see Freddie' being so close and all." Now he peered at Freddie. "How splendid you look, my dear. Yorkshire must agree with you very well."

Freddie smiled. "Very well indeed. And as you can see, Lord Stacks has kindly provided me with very fine clothing."

Roxanne ran her eyes over Freddie's well constructed dress and dainty slippers. "I had no idea such quality was available here in the North."

Freddie could not resist a reply. "You would not believe the beautiful ball gowns I possess!"

Roxanne's lovely blue eyes almost turned green with unspoken envy. "You have balls here?"

"We do," Stacks said. "If you stay long enough at Marshbanks Abbey we will hold one to honor you. I held one to introduce Miss Lambeth, and she has been a great success. I believe there are three men dancing attendance upon her at the present."

A sincere smile swept across Uncle Harold's round face. "That is gratifying news indeed."

"I am so very happy for you, Fredericka," Roxanne said insincerely.

"You must be fatigued from your journey," Stacks told them. "Allow me to have rooms prepared for you." He turned to Freddie.

"Yes, you really must stay," she offered without a smile. She watched as Dorothea's gaze swept over the fine paintings and the impressive chandeliers that suspended from the ceilings of richly blocked wood.

"How very kind of you, Lord Stacks," Dorothea said in her disturbingly nasal voice. "We would dearly love to be shown about the abbey. Do you have public days?"

"No," he answered. "The abbey's really not that grand. It's rather primitive and too ecclesiastical." He asked Eason to request Mrs. Greenwood prepare rooms in the cloister near Freddie for Miss Lambeth's family, then began to explain how the great room had formerly been a chapel as he showed them about the room. Though Freddie could have used her time more productively working on her drawings, she dared not leave for fear of missing something. Would Uncle Harold mention the gossip of Mrs. Taylor?

"Very good of you, Lord Stacks, to invite us for a stay," Uncle Harold said. "Just might take you up on it. It's so much cooler here than it is down South. Don't mind absenting myself from Chilton Manor for a spell--if you're certain we won't be imposing."

"I am certain," Stacks said, his lips compressed.

"Do tell me about this painting," Roxanne commanded Stacks as she slithered to stand beside him, gazing up at him with admiration.

Freddie could gladly have strangled her.

Stacks explained the large Italian canvas and the many ancestral portraits that hung on the stone walls while his visitors overly praised every painting.

With Uncle Harold at his side and the ladies following, Lord Stacks guided the visitors through the abbey, pausing to explain interesting aspects of the centuries-old landmark. The historical tidbits held little interest for Aunt Dorothea and Roxanne, who were more interested in the present day, particularly in the baron's obvious wealth. They commented on the abundance of servants and the magnificence of their livery. They asked questions about what other facilities were on Lord Stacks' property and about his habits regarding entertaining.

By the time they had seen all of the abbey, Lord Stacks personally showed them to the cloister where their rooms were located.

Glancing at the quadrangle, Roxanne said, "Why is that such a hodgepodge of unsightly vegetation when a nice lawn would be so much more preferable?"

Stacks came to an abrupt halt and directed an amused gaze at Roxanne. "That, Miss Lambeth--Miss Roxanne Lambeth--is where I pursue my botanical studies."

She was silent a moment before adding, "Dear me, I had no notion you were so utterly talented, Lord Stacks."

Freddie had to fight the urge to boast on her guardian's accomplishments. She had no desire to place him any higher on Roxanne's pedestal. Aunt and Uncle's loveliest daughter had made no secret last year that she would accept offers only from gentlemen who were either enormously wealthy or titled, preferably both.

***

With Freddie's encouragement, Maggie did an especially good job on Freddie's hair for dinner that night. She wore a white gown appropriate to what a young lady should wear. Never let her uncle say she had been encouraged to lascivious ways in her guardian's home. Though the dress would not arouse her Thomas, she felt confident in her appearance as she left her room.

Roxanne and her mother did not hear her enter the cloister. They walked a short distance ahead of Freddie, and Freddie overheard Aunt Dorothea say, "Lord Stacks is the very man for you, my dear."

Once again, Freddie's hands itched to wrap around Roxanne's lovely neck as she listened to her cousin's reply. "My feelings exactly, Mama."

To Freddie, dinner was interminable. She was forced to suffer through Uncle Harold's dull conversation while she watched her guardian chatting gaily with Aunt Dorothea on his left and Roxanne on his right.

"I notice that as evening nears, the servants lay fires in all the fireplaces, my lord," Aunt Dorothea said.

Stacks nodded. "Yes, the nights here--even in summer--can be quite cold."

Aunt Dorothea's eyes flashed with admiration. "Such an expense!"

"Not in these parts," Lord Stacks said. "We have an abundance of peat on my lands, which as I have told you, consist largely of moors. My servants make the peat bricks themselves."

"How utterly delightful," Roxanne said. "Will you please take me to see your moors. I cannot tell you how I have longed to see them forever."

"I should be happy to take all of you," Lord Stacks said.

"Did you not tell us your stables are located some distance from the abbey?" Roxanne asked.

The baron nodded.

"Have you enough horses for all four of us?"

"Five, counting the other Miss Lambeth," Stacks said, meeting Freddie's gaze with a kindly smile.

"Oh, yes, poor Fredericka," Roxanne said, casting her eyes furtively at Freddie.

Freddie noticed Roxanne's keen interest in the painting of Elizabeth.

Toward the end of dinner Roxanne asked, "Who, pray tell, is the lovely woman in the painting?"

Stacks' face went hard. "That was the late Lady Stacks."

"Your wife?" Aunt Dorothea asked.

"Yes," Stacks said grimly.

"I think she was in much the same style as our Roxanne," Aunt Dorothea said.

Freddie suddenly realized how correct he aunt's observation was. Roxanne was blond and blue eyed and beautiful.

And Freddie was miserable.

After dinner, Aunt Dorothea insisted Roxanne play and sing for Lord Stacks.

He applauded her adequate talent, then informed them that Miss Freddie Lambeth was proving to be an adept pupil at the pianoforte.

"We are most grateful for your many kindnesses to my brother's child," Uncle Harold said. "I hardly recognized the girl today in all her finery."

"I must say," Lord Stacks said, "I was surprised to see how well your own daughter dresses when Freddie, who also lived in your house, dressed so shabbily when she arrived at the abbey."

Touché
, thought Freddie.

They all glanced into their laps at Stacks' words.

After a moment Roxanne flashed a condescending smile at Freddie. "Why don't you play for us, Fredericka."

Freddie colored. "I am hardly qualified to perform in public."

"She underestimates her talents," Stacks said, "But I will not push her into performing."

"I am surprised you find someone to impart pianoforte instruction in this remote location," Aunt Dorothea said.

"Actually, I am teaching her myself," Stacks replied.

"I have never heard anyone play with more skill than Lord Stacks," Freddie said with pride.

Roxanne smiled coyly at Stacks. "Next time I sing, I shall have you play for me."

"It will be my pleasure," Stacks said.

They played loo for an hour before retiring for the night.

***

After Maggie helped Freddie into her night clothes and brushed her hair, Freddie sank into her bed and was free at last to ponder the days' events.

Thomas loved her! Even if he could never offer marriage, it was enough for her to know he loved her. Even tonight, he had championed her to her uncle. She could scarcely believe that she was the recipient of
his
love. For the first time in her life, happiness had come her way.

Then there was the unspeakable. He told her he killed Elizabeth. He had also said he
never knowingly hurt Elizabeth
. If he killed Elizabeth, Freddie knew he had never intended to hurt his wife. He was incapable of cruelty.

Her last thoughts as she fell into slumber were of Uncle Harold. Why had he come? Did he plan to challenge Stacks for her care because of the rumors? Or did he desire Lord Stacks for Roxanne?

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Eason stood just inside the library. "Does your lordship require anything else?"

Stacks looked at the case clock on the wall. It was after midnight. "No, I'll stay here and work since I'm not tired. Please inform Roberts he need not wait up for me."

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