The Irresistible Lady Behind the Mask: A Historical Regency Romance Book

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The Irresistible Lady Behind the Mask: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 14

by Emily Honeyfield


  “You won’t get away with this!” she promised ominously.

  He chuckled. “But I already have, my sweet.”

  “If I had a pistol, I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on you,” she added menacingly.

  Guffawing, he responded, “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

  His mirth grated on her nerves. “You can laugh all you want now, you contemptible cad. But when the gates of prison are slamming hard in your face, I’ll sure be there to have the last laugh.”

  “I don’t think that environment would be suitable for a genteel bred lady of your kind.”

  Tempest darted him a look filled with venom. She wished she had something biting to say to him to wipe the smug smile from his face. He thought he had won. Oh, he had another think coming if he thought she would be malleable and putty in his arms.

  “Come now, Tempest,” he cut into her thoughts, “I’m only just following the footsteps of a master schemer, or should I say mistress at scheming?”

  Tempest refused to allow herself to blush at his words. If all he wanted was revenge, then he had gone too far. She really should have seen this coming. Hudson had been very furious with her that morning over her involvement in the ending of his engagement to Valerie. Then suddenly, his mien changed to one of acceptance and seduction. The bloody man had sat right there in her drawing room and plotted against her.

  She squelched the voice that was asking her if she hadn’t done the same things. Hers was very different. She had been only trying to help a loved one out of a difficult situation. Hudson’s scheming was born out of revenge and most probably to prove himself to be a man.

  Oh, how she hated him at that moment for doing this to her.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, tight-lipped.

  “To Strombridge,” he replied shortly.

  A harried gasp left her lips. She turned to glare at him.

  “Why?”

  “The crux of the matter is that I need a wife.”

  “A wife with a large dowry to settle your gambling debts, you shameless cad!”

  Tempest admitted that she had gone too far when all traces of humour vanished from Hudson’s face. His face tightened as his eyes turned icy.

  “You’re still living a lie, I see. Well, sorry to disabuse you of your love to judge someone harshly, I have no gambling debts. Even if I did, I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go about seeking for a bride with a bountiful dowry to marry.”

  For some reason she couldn’t understand, she believed him. Hudson, with his enormous pride, wouldn’t go about pursuing a wealthy bride. Why she had ever thought so was beyond her.

  “And as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me,” he curtly continued, “due to your meddling, I was irrevocably jilted, but, mark my words,” his eyes were filled with solemn intent, “I will not have another failed match. Once was enough, twice,” he laughed bitterly, “that’s just asking for too much.”

  Tempest’s tongue dashed nervously across her lips. Her palms suddenly became moist as she tried to comprehend where Hudson’s words were leading to.

  “What are you saying, Hudson?”

  Reclining against the seat and smiling leisurely, he firmly stated, “To repair your meddling, Tempest, you will honour the match we had long ago and become my wife.”

  “No!” she whispered, losing every scrap of colour on her face. Her lips quivered and a knifepoint of fear snaked up her spine.

  “Yes,” he countered succinctly. “You will replace the bride you took from me.”

  Tempest shook her head until strands of her hair fell from the chignon at her nape.

  No, this wasn’t happening. She was having the weirdest of dreams. In pursuit of a way out of her nightmare, she closed her eyes tautly. But when she opened them, she was still in the carriage, and the despicable lout was still staring at her with hilarity.

  Undeterred, Tempest tried again. This time, she pinched herself on the arm firmly. However, when she opened her eyes, she still saw the same scenario. She closed her eyes again and pinched herself harder.

  “Tempest, if you keep up with that exercise, I’m afraid you’ll pull off your skin. I do say I don’t fancy a wife with a gaping wound on her arm. I want you complete … particularly in between the sheets.”

  “Shut up! Shut up, you cunning oaf!” Tempest yelled and sat back. She bestowed a fulminating glare on her so-called chaperone before looking away at the countryside.

  Her father’s words when he warned her against interfering with Valerie’s marriage came to taunt her just then.

  “Mark my words, Tempest. This is one meddling that might turn around to bite you if you dare dabble in it.”

  Regret filled her at not having listened to the man who she had felt was speaking gibberish then. If she had known that trying to save Valerie from a fate worse than death would put her in this unpredictable situation, she would have pretended to be dying that day.

  But all hope wasn’t lost. Nothing in this world would make her marry Hudson. He could threaten her all he pleased, but she wouldn’t give in. At the first chance she got, she would escape. If she had to walk back to London, so be it.

  Best to keep him silent and thinking he had won. She would feign silent acquiesce for him to let down his guard. Glaring at Beatrice who was staring out the window, Tempest acknowledged that she would also have to find a way to outsmart the lady of ill-repute.

  ***

  Hudson saw the mutinous set of Tempest’s lips as she stared out the window and knew intuitively that he was going to have a battle on his hands.

  He didn’t think that Tempest had changed much over the years. If anything, she was now more stubborn. Her silence meant she would do everything possible to get out of marrying him. He wasn’t fooled that she gave the impression of one that had accepted her fate. She would escape the first opportunity she got. But he would be ready for her. She would find out that he was determined to marry her.

  Aunt Agnes had been told he was returning to Strombridge with a wife. He couldn’t go back on his word. Tempest, whether she liked it or not or was agreeable to the union or not would be his wife!

  Guilt stole up to his cheeks at the forceful tactics he had to employ to get a bride. But could he really be blamed? He had walked the right path in acquiring a bride, but Tempest in her usual interfering manner had ruined it for him. It was only right for her to take the place of Valerie. Had she been a man, he would have gladly called her out and put a bullet through her in a duel.

  However, she was a woman; a beautiful, delectable woman that he couldn’t wait to bed. The anticipation of a fight before he made her his got his heart beating in excitement. Yea, Tempest wouldn’t come to her marital bed willingly. She would cuss him out and fight him, but he would subdue her and enjoy every minute of it. He already knew she would be fiery in making love once she succumbed to the passion that lay in her.

  Hudson swallowed thickly at the thought of cupping her breasts, suckling them as she received him in her hot, tight core. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the crotch of his trousers became uncomfortable, he looked away from the alluring beauty the seditious woman made.

  Although he had been distressed when his engagement to Valerie was abruptly ended, all things considered, he liked this arrangement better. Tempest was the one he would have chosen in a sea filled with women. She would make a perfect wife once she acquiesced to being one.

  Hudson’s words rang true when a few hours later, they stopped at a rambling inn with white stone walls, and Tempest tried to escape. She jumped out of the travelling chaise, nearly toppling over the coachman as soon as he opened the door. In a flash, he went after her and caught up with her before she ran into the bushes surrounding the place.

  “What a delightful marriage we’re going to have,” he whispered into her ear as he held her firmly against him. “I’m going to enjoy chasing you from one room to another in Strombridge manor.”

  “Get away from me, you louse
!” she hissed.

  Laughing, he proclaimed, “Only when you come to terms with the fact that there’s no escaping this. We will be wed, make no mistake about that.”

  “I’ll see you dead first!”

  “Is that threat supposed to make me let you go?” He chuckled. “Keep in mind, Miss, that I had no intention of marrying you. If you hadn’t cost me my marriage to your cousin, you wouldn’t be here now. So, you can go on hating me all you want, but deep down, you know this is all your fault!”

  ***

  Hudson’s words were so accurate, Tempest almost wept. But she held herself from giving in to tears, for she feared that if she started due to the despair raking her heart, she might never stop.

  With her lips set in a thin line, she allowed Hudson to lead her to the inn where the innkeeper was already waiting with raised brows.

  “Newlyweds,” Hudson explained with a dazzling smile on his face. “We had a little … lovers spat.”

  The old man with a thick moustache covering his upper lip nodded as if Hudson’s words explained why she ran out of the carriage immediately it stopped.

  The man led the way into the establishment of one of the private dining rooms. Tempest had planned to go on a food strike so Hudson would be remorseful. The determination in his words a few minutes ago gave her a rethink. He would marry her even if she had to lie in bed for the ceremony as a result of weakness from hunger. Besides, she would be too weak to evade his tight clutches if she didn’t eat.

  And so, she partook of the sumptuous meal, completely ignoring Hudson who keenly watched her as she ate. He rose when she pushed herself to her feet after eating every morsel provided.

  Still ignoring him, she took a stroll outside enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. Beatrice, who had sat at another table beside them as she ate, walked up to her.

  “My advice is to accept the situation before you. Marriage to Mr Danvers is a certainty, one you can’t run away from,” the woman softly said.

  Fixing the woman with an icy glare that would have given her frostbite, Tempest quipped, “When I need the advice of a soiled woman, I’ll be sure to ask you. Keep your advice to yourself. I believe you need it more than me.”

  As the journey progressed, despair rose in Tempest for she found no other opportunity to get out of the marriage she was heading right into. At night when they stopped at inns, she was forced to share a room with Beatrice. Twice she tried to leave the room but found the watchful woman’s eyes on her. At both times, she had tried cajoling the woman into letting her go, but Beatrice was obstinate about her not leaving.

  By the time they arrived at Strombridge after three days journeying across the countryside, Tempest’s nerves were stretched taut. Hudson, on several occasions, had tried luring her into conversations with him, but her fulminating glare always caused him to have a change of heart.

  Hudson had thought of everything before he embarked on the supposed journey to Valerie’s place. Halfway through the trip, another carriage caught up with them which held trunks filled with clothes for her and other necessities.

  Tempest had wondered if she would journey in the clothes she had on, but after seeing the several trunks with the most beautiful of silk dresses, she had almost wanted to remain in her dress but for the tediousness of the journey. Appropriately garbed in a travelling costume, she had felt better and blushed whenever Hudson’s appreciative eyes ran over her figure.

  Now that the journey was at an end, she was plagued with mixed feelings. For one, she was happy that she would no longer be ensconced in the carriage with Hudson with the intense sexual tension thrumming between them, but it also signified that her marriage to Hudson was inevitable since she couldn’t find a means of escape.

  Beatrice was deposited at an inn in Strombridge. She turned to say goodbye to Tempest, but the angry lady looked past her as if she wasn’t there. Beatrice shrugged and walked away.

  Tempest knew she was acting like a spoilt child. Who wouldn’t in such a situation? She was prepared to sulk until she got to the house even if it fell flat on Hudson.

  When Tempest’s eyes fell on Hudson’s dowager’s aunt isolated manor, it was all she could do not to gasp out aloud. The house stood tall on a high hill like a towering giant. It was surrounded by promenades bordering flowers splashed all around.

  Tempest gulped at the sight of what would become her prison unless she found a way to leave it before the wedding took place. Her heart beat a steady rhythm as the conveyance drew to a stop in front of the terraced stone steps.

  “Welcome to your new home, my sweet,” Hudson announced gallantly, preceding her from the carriage.

  He reached for her, and she recoiled as if he were a snake about to strike. With satisfaction, she saw his jaw tighten, and then for a silly moment, she wondered what he would do if she refused to leave the chaise. He would most likely drag her out by the hair screaming and kicking while the servants watched with horror and amusement.

  Sighing in defeat, she pushed aside his hand and stepped down from the carriage. Hudson refused to move, so it was a squeeze. She raised her hand to push him. At that instant, he moved away, and she pushed forcefully the air which got her surging forward.

  Hudson stretched out a hand to steady her and hissed into her ear.

  “This is my home, Tempest,” he ground out with barely restrained anger, “please behave yourself according to your status, or I’ll treat you like the spoilt child you are. You might enjoy being the subject of gossip for your servants, but I do not share such pastimes. Be warned, do not cause a scene.

  Tempest, unheeding, jerked her hand from his and strode forward. She climbed the stone steps just as a butler opened the door.

  Nostalgic memories hit her when she recognised the man. She wasn’t in the least surprised that the man who was now grey-haired was still in the Danvers’ employ. Most loyal employees stayed on till death.

  As the man smiled at her and welcomed her, a thick bulge formed in Tempest’s throat. Vague memories plagued her of visiting the manor house as a child and playing with Hudson in the gardens. She desired to see the gardens where she had played hide and seek with Hudson. A smile tugged at her lips when she remembered the time she pushed him, and he fell on a bed of lilies, ruining them.

  Grudgingly, she acknowledged that it was good to be here again after so many years. Pleasant memories had been made in this house even though she was presently there against her wish.

  Tempest hastily schooled her features when Hudson came up behind her. A gasp left her lips when Hudson deftly swept her in his strong arms, not minding that the butler was there.

  “Welcome home, the bride of my heart.”

  Chapter 16

  “Put me down this minute, Hudson,” Tempest curtly demanded as the butler gave way, and Hudson crossed the threshold into the impressive hallway.

  When he didn’t comply, she added bitingly, “I’d rather die than be your bride!”

  With a wry smile on his lips, he replied. “That can be arranged.”

  “Why, you!” She folded her hand into a fist and was about to give him a black eye when he unceremoniously dropped her feet to the ground. Tempest had to quickly grab his shirt to keep from falling. Hudson’s arms immediately went around her, drawing her close.

  “That was quite gentlemanly of you,” she tartly reprimanded him as she pushed to be set free.

  “I was merely acceding to your request.”

  When he wouldn’t let her go no matter how she struggled, she lost her temper. She launched into a tirade that would make a nun blush.

 

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