Promise of Pleasure (26 page)
Read Promise of Pleasure Online
Authors: Cheryl Holt
She wouldn’t be his mistress. Nor would she watch as he finalized his courtship of Felicity, so what could she do?
Avoidance had seemed the best option.
Since she’d walked out of the barn, she hadn’t seen him again, and she suspected his current fit of pique was driven by the fact that she’d told him
no.
She didn’t suppose women ever refused him, so her temerity would be too much for him to abide.
no.
She didn’t suppose women ever refused him, so her temerity would be too much for him to abide.
“Mary!” He pounded on the wood again, the echo reverberating down the hall.
How long would it be before someone heard the ruckus and came to investigate?
If he was spotted, she wouldn’t be able to deny any charge Victoria chose to level.
“All right, all right,” she fumed. “Pipe down or you’ll awaken the whole house.”
She spun the key and stepped back, allowing him to storm inside, and it was immediately obvious that he’d been drinking. She could smell alcohol; his color was high, his hair mussed. His coat and cravat were off, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked.
He looked livid and perplexed, ready to either kiss her or strangle her, and she had no idea what behavior he would select.
She closed the door and locked it, which was pointless. They could easily be discovered, and if they were, she had no one to blame but herself. Her idiocy had landed her in her predicament, and she’d known better than to engage in such rash conduct.
For years, Victoria had been threatening to evict her. Would Redvers be the catalyst that spurred Victoria to act?
He whipped around, his blue, blue eyes freezing her in her spot.
“I give up,” he snarled.
It was the last comment she’d expected. She scowled.
“What?”
“I give up! I give up!”
“What, precisely, does that mean?”
“I was going to ignore you.” He started to pace. “I was never going to speak to you again. I was going to let you fuss and stew and martyr yourself on your stupid pride and maidenly offense.”
He stopped and glared as if his arrival was her fault.
“I didn’t ask you to come here,” she insisted.
“No, you didn’t, and look how that turned out.”
“Not too well.”
“No, not too bloody
well,
at all.” He thrust out his palms, beseeching her for answers. “What do you want from me?”
well,
at all.” He thrust out his palms, beseeching her for answers. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything.”
“That can’t be true.”
It wasn’t, but she didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t continue on with their affair, and they had no future she would countenance.
A complete and total separation was the only solution.
“Why are you here?” she inquired. “Why all this bother? You don’t care about me, and you’re acting as if you belong in an asylum.”
“I do care about you!” he shouted, making her cringe at his volume.
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“What do you expect me to do?” He was pacing again. “I am not free to wed whomever I’d like. I have to marry for money, and you don’t have any. I’ve been extremely candid, yet you behave as if I deceived you. I’ve explained my situation over and over—till I’m blue in the face—but you won’t listen!”
He stumbled to a halt, his fury fizzling out. His shoulders slumped, and he collapsed against the wall, his back braced as if his legs could barely hold his weight.
“Why won’t you listen to me?” he plaintively asked.
She’d planned to maintain her distance, to let him speak his piece, then toss him out, but his expression was so bleak that she couldn’t remain detached.
The barrier she’d erected to protect herself was crumbling.
From the moment she’d met him, he’d had a lock on her emotions. He simply affected her as no other person ever had, and she couldn’t disregard the tempest brewing inside him.
Had she caused it? Why would she have?
By his every word and gesture, he’d indicated that he wanted a brief liaison. Yes, he’d mentioned an arrangement as his mistress, but the position would have been temporary.
Had she mistaken his level of interest? Did he possess feelings she hadn’t noted or suspected?
Perhaps he cherished her in a deep and abiding way, but being a man, he didn’t know how to tell her.
The prospect—that he might love her—was arousing and dangerous. It made her eager to abandon the logical reasons she’d devised to stay away from him.
If he loved her, wasn’t anything possible? If she could have him in the end, how could she send him away?
“I’m listening to you now, Jordan,” she said very quietly.
“I can’t give you what you want.”
“You keep claiming that, but I don’t think it’s true.”
“I‘mreturning to London very soon. I can’t bear the thought of leaving you here, but you refuse to come with me.”
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way to be together.”
“Yes, we’ll find a way,” he vowed. “I swear it to you.”
“I can’t be your mistress, though. I will only cast my lot with you if you promise to marry me. You’ll have to relinquish Felicity’s dowry. You’ll have to cry off from any engagement.”
“I realize that, and I will. I promise. I can’t stand to have you so angry with me.”
“I can’t stand it, either.”
He extended his hand, offering a truce, offering himself, and she raced over and clasped hold. He pulled her into a tight hug, then he was kissing her and kissing her until she was dizzy with the thrill of it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she kept repeating.
“I’m sorry, too.”
“I love you,” she admitted. “I’ll always love you.”
She’d taken the chance, had leapt off the cliff and confessed her feelings, but he said nothing in reply. He simply moaned and deepened the kiss.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, and he laid her down and came down with her.
He seemed focused in a manner he hadn’t been previously. He gazed at her as if he might set her ablaze, as if he was hungry for her and would never have his fill.
“Don’t ever tell me,” he said, “to leave you alone.”
“I won’t.”
“It’s not in me to stay away. I don’t know how.”
“I don’t want to be separate from you. I can’t be separate from you. It hurts too much.”
Since she’d been sleeping when he’d first stormed down her hallway, she was attired in her nightgown. He gripped the front and ripped it down the center, and in an instant, she was naked. Then his hands were everywhere, on her breasts, her stomach, between her legs.
She felt as if she was drowning, as if she was plummeting to the bottom of the ocean, and he was plummeting with her. They were sinking into a hole of bliss and ecstasy from which they would never emerge.
He touched and bit and caressed, until she was writhing in agony, and when he finally clutched her thighs, when he loosened his trousers and impaled himself, it was such a relief.
She cried out with joy and hugged him close as he began to thrust.
There was none of the tempered restraint he’d shown prior. He was rough and out of control, his demons driving him to wild heights. His hips slammed into hers, like the pistons of a huge machine, his body working her across the mattress, until her head was banging into the headboard with each penetration.
As her pleasure crested, his did, too, and they ended together in a hot rush of need and elation.
As he spiraled down, as his torso relaxed onto hers, she stroked his hair, his shoulders, and arms. She yearned to confide how extraordinary it had been, how happy she was, but before she could, he drew away and promptly fell asleep. His face was buried in the pillow, alcohol and sexual lethargy rendering him incoherent.
She covered them with the blankets, and for a long while, she watched him.
When he awakened, when he was sober, they had to hash out the details of how they’d proceed. He’d sworn they would wed, and she would make any sacrifice, would endure any hardship, to guarantee that it transpired.
Eventually, she drifted off, and when she roused, the color of the sky indicated that it was midmorning or maybe even afternoon.
She frowned.
Before she’d even opened her eyes, she’d known he was gone, that he’d sneaked out without a good-bye.
There was a terrible stillness in the air, as if he’d left and was never coming back, as if she’d never see him again, which was silly.
Of course he’d come back. Of course she’d see him again. He’d
promised.
promised.
Suddenly, the room seemed very cold, very forbidding, and she shivered.
Dread settled in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away and rose to face the day.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Whatever it is, I’m busy, so if you’ll excuse me?”
Victoria tried to sweep by Lauretta, but the woman blocked her path. They were next to an empty parlor, and Lauretta urged her in and shut the door.
“There’s something you should know,” Lauretta said, “but you have to swear that you’ll never tell anyone where you heard it.”
“Let’s skip all the intrigue. Say what it is you’re determined to say, and let me be about my business.”
“Not until I have your word. If you’re ever asked, you must pretend that a housemaid told you. No one can ever learn that you received the information from me.”
“Fine. You have my word. Now what is it?”
“Do you recall when I mentioned that Redvers was dabbling with a maid?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve found out who it is.”
“And?”
“It isn’t a servant.”
“Who, then?” Victoria’s mind raced as she tried to deduce what other female it could possibly be. She blanched. “Not Cassandra.”
“No. It’s ... it’s your stepdaughter, Mary Barnes.”
“What is your allegation against her?”
“She and Redvers are having a sexual affair.”
“If this is your idea of a joke, I find it in very bad taste.”
“I saw them with my own two eyes.”
“You swear this to be true?”
“Yes, I swear.”
“They barely fraternize. How could it have happened?”
“He met her the day we arrived, and they had an instant connection. I discounted it, but I shouldn’t have. He can be very charming, very persuasive. A plain spinster like her wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Mary and ... Redvers?”
Victoria was seething with such fury that Lauretta almost felt sorry for Mary Barnes. The poor girl had never done Lauretta any harm—save for snaring Redvers’s attention—yet Lauretta had set a catastrophe in motion for her.
But as fast as Lauretta suffered the compassionate thought, she shook it off.
She knew Jordan well. He was thoroughly smitten—perhaps even in love for the very first time, and the prospect was too dangerous to consider. The spark had to be tamped out before it burned any hotter.
“I assume,” Lauretta said, “that I can trust you to handle this?”
“Yes, you can trust me.”
“And you’ll keep my name out of it?”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Bainbridge. Your precious Redvers will never know it was you.”
“Thank you.”
Lauretta opened the door and slipped away.
JORDAN hurried into his bedroom suite, breathing a sigh of relief that he’d snuck in without being seen.
It was just shy of noon, the house abuzz with activity, yet he’d been rushing down the halls, without coat or shoes, his shirt buttoned wrong and untucked.
If he’d been spotted, rumors would have circulated about his behavior. Gossip would have gotten back to Victoria, causing a big ruckus to ensue.
He’d courted disaster, but had come through unscathed.
His head was pounding, his hangover debilitating, and he needed to bathe, dress, shave, and eat.
He moved to ring for a servant, when Lauretta spoke from over in the corner.
“Hello, Redvers.”
She was seated in a chair by the window, drinking a brandy and smoking a cheroot.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” She assessed his disheveled condition. “Rough night?”
“I’ve had better.”
“You look like hell.”
“I
feel
like hell.”
feel
like hell.”
She offered him her brandy. “Try a little hair of the dog. It will calm your worst symptoms.”
He walked over, took it, and gulped down the contents, shuddering as the liquid scorched a path to his stomach. He gave her the glass, and she placed it on a nearby table.
“Where have you been?” she had the audacity to ask.
“My whereabouts have never been any of your business, and I don’t remember anything occurring that might have changed that fact.”
He spun away and proceeded to the dressing room, dropping his shirt as he went. He poured water in a bowl, dipped a cloth, and stroked it across his face and chest. Behind him, he heard her enter, and he could sense her studying him, her curiosity blatant and annoying.
He glanced over his shoulder and snapped, “What is it? And I must inform you that, with the mood I’m in, you’d best not think to scold me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good. Then what is it? Please be brief. You were supposed to depart for London on Sunday. Why didn’t you?”
“Is that still what you want?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“When will you join me?”
“As soon as I’m married.”
“So the wedding is on?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You tell me.”
He scowled. “My head is hammering like there’s an anvil inside it. Don’t talk in riddles.”
“Victoria knows.”
“Knows what?”
“About you and Mary Barnes. One of the maids saw you at the village dance.”
A wave of panic surged through him, and he struggled to hide it.
If his affair with Mary was revealed, he would suffer no consequences, but for Mary, her life at Barnes Manor had just ended. Since he’d instigated the entire liaison, the result was completely unfair, but that was the way the world worked.
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