by Meara Platt
She walked into the dining room feeling quite foolish even to care about Caleb or his whereabouts. Perhaps he’d taken a walk down to the beach for a final inspection before his men arrived. He might have gone for a ride around the countryside. After all, his magnificent beast would have needed the exercise.
Caleb was cavalry, which meant he and his horse rode into battle together. They worked as one to pull each other safely through each engagement. She thought it was rather spectacular how man and horse understood each other so well, instinctively sensing what the other was feeling as though they shared a single heart.
Would she ever experience that same sort of bond with Richard?
She hoped so.
Perhaps she ought to ask Caleb about this bond of love.
She seriously considered ordering her horse saddled and had begun to concoct in her head what to say to Caleb on their “chance” encounter once she had hunted him down so they might ride together…or do something together.
Something improper?
“No,” she muttered, chiding herself for the ridiculous idea. “Besides, he doesn’t want your company.”
She was to become engaged to Richard in a few days.
So why this burning ache to spend more time with Caleb?
“Faith, you are mad.” She forced herself to remain seated at the table. But she was alone with her thoughts in turmoil. She had no appetite. The salvers of eggs, kippers, and assorted cold meats set out for them on the buffet did not look at all appealing.
Fleming strode back in, noticed her distraction, and frowned. “Will you have nothing to eat?” He crossed to the buffet and pretended to wipe a spot of dust off it.
“I’m not hungry, Fleming.”
“Neither was General Brayden when he rode out this morning.”
What did it signify?
Her butler’s gaze softened as he regarded her. “Mrs. Fleming made your favorite scones.” He placed one on a plate and handed it to her. “She’ll be quite put out if you waste away to nothing.”
Faith laughed. “Oh, I doubt that shall ever happen. I promise to devour this scone. I’ll thank Mrs. Fleming personally later. Do tell her she prepared a splendid meal for us last night.”
Fleming nodded in satisfaction and quietly left the room.
Faith nibbled on the scone. It was good. She poured herself a cup of hot cocoa and returned to her seat.
She still felt very much alone, but did not wish for company.
She hadn’t touched her cocoa before she heard the front door open. A moment later Caleb strode in. “Good morning,” she said, the breath snatched from her at the sight of him.
He looked big and handsome in his uniform. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were rosy.
“I didn’t realize you were awake,” she said with feigned surprise.
“I rode Pharaoh down the length of the beach and back.” He slid into the chair beside her and ran a hand casually through his hair to put it back in order. “Good morning, Faith. What has you up so early?”
You.
“Oh, I’m usually up at this hour to attend to household chores. My uncle, as you may have guessed, prefers his books. He isn’t the sort to bother with the practical details of running a home.” She caught the scent of salty sea air on him as he leaned toward her. It mingled with the clean, male scent of him and the subtle musk cologne he wore.
She tried to remain unaffected by his nearness, but it was impossible. He made her tingle and her heart skip beats. She took a sip of her cocoa, afraid to look into his dark mahogany eyes for fear she would lose all reason and do something quite wanton and idiotic.
What was happening to her?
Why was he smiling at her and making things more difficult? The “things” being only one thing really, and that was the effect he was having on her heart.
That he was handsome and hard muscled should have meant nothing to her. She’d met several handsome men, Lord Hawley for instance. But none of them put wicked thoughts into her head. What was it about this man that made her want to lick her tongue in a long, slow arc along his body?
She took another sip of her cocoa and choked on it.
“Faith, are you all right?” he asked, moving even closer.
“Perfect. Went down the wrong way, that’s all.”
He eased back and began toying with the coffee cup at his place setting. “Faith, there’s something I–”
He broke off when her uncle joined them at the breakfast table.
Drat.
What was Caleb about to say to her?
“Thank goodness you’re awake, Faith.” The old dear nodded in Caleb’s direction to acknowledge his presence and immediately began to complain about his aches and pains with surprising vigor for a man who insisted he was in very ill health. But Caleb was a new audience for him and he meant to take full advantage.
Faith smothered her disappointment, knowing she’d never learn what Caleb meant to say now that her uncle had every intention of dominating the conversation. “Good morning, Uncle Winslow.”
“Is it?” he muttered and took a deep breath before continuing to complain. It was the same routine every morning.
She was prepared for it.
She set down her cup of cocoa and cast him a doting smile as he plunked himself in the seat opposite hers and recited his list of ills. “We must replace my mattress, Faith. My back is stiff as a board. My neck creaks whenever I turn it. See? Ouch,” he groaned and showed her again, seeming to move it with no discomfort. “Ouch.”
“Stop turning your neck and the pain will go away. How are your knees?”
“Awful. They creak too. Like an old, squeaky door. Which reminds me, have Fleming fix our front gate. Have him put a lock on it, too. A solid iron one.”
She spared a glance at Caleb and grinned. “Shall I have him set traps as well?”
“Good idea. We’ve had enough trespassers to last me through the year.” He turned to Caleb. “Present company excepted, of course. I like you, General Brayden. You’re intelligent and thoughtful. You don’t make noise. Speaking of which, don’t forget to tell Fleming to attend to that squeaky gate first thing, Faith.”
“I’ll see to it this very morning.” She smiled again as he rose and she watched him pile eggs, meat, and biscuits on his plate. “And how are your legs?”
“Swollen to the size of tree trunks.”
She frowned, for that was not one of his usual complaints and could be something serious. “Sit down and let me have a look at them.” She came around and knelt beside him to run her hands up and down his calves and ankles. “They’re not swollen. You’re fine.”
“I’m not fine. My boots are too tight. That’s how I know my legs are swollen.”
She sighed. “Your socks are too thick for these boots. I’ve told you, they’re for cold nights in bed. You ought to be wearing your leggings.”
“Speaking of cold, I feel a cold coming on. Have Fleming light a fire in my study.”
“You’ll roast from the heat. It’s August, Uncle Winslow. I’ll bring a shawl downstairs for you once we’re through with our meal. You can put it about your shoulders if you feel a chill.” She dusted off her gown as she rose and returned to her seat.
Caleb’s smile was irresistibly tender. “You’re a fortunate man, Lord Boscombe. Your niece obviously adores you.”
“She’s a lovely girl. We’ve had a lot of good years together.” His expression turned wistful as he turned to her. “But you’ll be married soon and I shall never see you again. What shall I do without you, my dear Faith? I knew this day would come and here it is upon me. My heart is breaking. I shall miss you so very much.”
She felt the same. She fought the tears now gathering in her eyes.
Caleb placed his hand lightly over hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think when I passed the remark.”
Faith shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. We’ve been talking about this for weeks now. Ever since Lord Hawley proposed t
o me. I want Uncle Winslow to come with us to London. I’d like him to live with us.”
Her uncle frowned. “No, Faith. My home is here.”
She turned to Caleb in dismay. He’d removed his hand from hers and she wished he would take it again. She found his touch comforting. “See, it is always like this. I don’t want him to be alone, but he won’t join me in London.”
“And what is there for me to do there? Richard will keep you busy entertaining every night. Then you’ll have children to tie you down. Lots of them.”
“Indeed, at least a dozen,” Faith teased, shaking her head and laughing. “Can you imagine? I’ll bring the little horde up here and we’ll stay the entire summer. Won’t that be fun, Uncle Winslow? I know how much you’ll enjoy their dripping and drooling faces. They’ll climb all over your furniture. They’ll knock over your books.”
“Shows how little you know me,” he grumbled. “I would put up with them because they’re yours. It’s all these other people I don’t want around me. Richard, for example.”
Faith curled her hands into fist under the table to stem her irritation. “What do you have against him? Oh, I know he behaved abominably toward General Brayden last night, but he’s really a good man. Besides, he’ll be the father of my dozen or so children.”
Her uncle stared at Caleb. “Young man, are you going to let this happen?”
Caleb cleared his throat, obviously surprised he was drawn into the conversation. “I beg your pardon?”
“Richard behaved like a dolt last night because he was jealous of you. Does he have reason to be?”
“Are you asking me what my intentions are toward your niece?”
Faith shot to her feet with a gasp. “I will not have this conversation. Nor will I allow any of you to discuss me. I control my own fate. I make my own decisions. I shall kiss whomever I please.”
Her uncle was still staring at Caleb. “Who said anything about kissing?”
“I wasn’t suggesting…” She turned to Caleb in dismay. “I shall marry…”
She turned on her heels and fled into the garden.
“LORD BOSCOMBE, YOU’VE upset your niece.” Caleb frowned at the man, who did not appear in the least remorseful.
“I know, but it’s for her own good. Hawley is at times full of himself and insufferable. I suppose he isn’t a bad sort, on the whole. However, he isn’t right for her. She won’t be happy in London.”
“That does not allow you to toss her at me in a purposeful attempt to sabotage their wedding plans.” He rose and followed Faith out to the garden. She was standing beside a weeping willow and weeping, of course.
He took out his handkerchief as he approached her. “Dry your tears, Faith. He’s just goading you because he’s angry at your beau’s plan to carry you off to London once you’re wed. He’ll get over it.”
“It is ridiculous. Why must I choose between them? Uncle Winslow knows he’ll always be welcome in my home. I want him with me. I’ll make certain he has every comfort.”
“But he’s comfortable here. He loves living in Scarborough. So do you, I think.”
She nodded. “Very much. But I’m willing to try a new place, so why can’t he?”
“He isn’t marrying Lord Hawley. Nor is it in his nature to change. He’s the sort who likes things just as they are.”
“Why must I suffer for it?”
He couldn’t resist running his knuckles along her cheek in a light caress. “Faith, call it what you will. But we each have our own choices to make. We make them at every turn in our lives. Every hour of the day. Mostly simple choices. What shall I wear? What shall I eat? Shall I go into town? Shall I play whist?” He cupped her chin in his palm and turned her face upward toward him while he dabbed her tears. “Then there are the difficult ones.”
Faith inhaled lightly and groaned. “The choices you must have had to make every minute when engaged in battle. Who do I kill? Who do I trust to protect my back? Who will send word to my family if I don’t make it home? Oh, Caleb. I’m so sorry for my outburst. I know it is petty and thoughtless.”
“It isn’t,” he assured her. “You love your uncle. You worry about how he’ll fare when you’re gone. You’re angry that he’s behaving like a stubborn donkey. And angrier that Richard is behaving no better.”
“I hope Richard will be calmer this morning. But I still won’t forgive my uncle. How could he ask you what your intentions are toward me? How could he suggest that I want to kiss you?”
Caleb ran his thumb across her cheek again to dry the last of her tears. Mostly, he just needed to touch her. “Do you want to kiss me, Faith?”
Silence suddenly reigned between them.
He wasn’t breathing.
Neither was she.
Her lips parted, as though in invitation. “I can’t.”
But she leaned her body closer and the air suddenly felt charged between them.
His hand was still tucked under her chin, he had only to tip her face upward and bring his mouth down on hers. “Faith,” he said with an anguished groan and crushed his lips to hers.
This was their destiny, for he was the dragon about to devour her heart.
He drew her into his arms, never wanting to let her go, for she had devoured his as well. She had devoured all of him. Heart. Soul. Body.
He wanted Faith. He needed her to feed his empty soul, to nourish his battle-weary body.
“Wrap your arms around my neck.” He hoped she wouldn’t hit him instead. Her mind was a whirl of confusion, it had to be. Her path hadn’t merely taken a new turn. This kiss was about to turn the path of her life upside down.
But he had her now and wasn’t about to let her walk out of his life.
“Lord, forgive me,” she whispered, throwing her arms around him and returning his kiss with sweet abandon. The innocently urgent press of her lips felt incredible, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He’d had his share of women, but none had ever roused such a fire within him. Faith’s kiss tore through him with the force of an inferno, laying waste to all of his carefully laid plans.
She was demolishing all the paths he’d meant to take.
Only one mattered now.
The one that led to this beautiful girl in his arms. Faith.
“Caleb, dear heaven. What are we doing?” She tried to pull away, but she was struggling with herself more than with him.
He reluctantly eased his grip, for he’d never hold her against her will.
She remained molded to him, her head resting against his chest and her soft hands clinging to his shoulders. He felt the wild beats of her heart, for their bodies were that closely pressed together. “This is wrong. I can’t. I can’t.”
She was his now, just as he was hers. It mattered little whether she understood it yet or not. “We just did and I won’t let you make excuses for it.”
“Then I shall admit my shame. Is that what you want? To know you’ve conquered me as you have countless other women?”
“Do you believe this kiss means nothing to me?” He wanted to give her time to accept him, but there was so little left. Only a few days and he’d be gone, perhaps forever if his next assignment came quickly.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he was the boy who’d given her the amulet. He was her Caleb.
The fortune teller had warned she wouldn’t remember him.
He could tell her and she would believe him, for he knew details only her Caleb would know. But it was more important that she see him for what he was now, a military man who could offer her a life of comfort, but never grandeur. She would never be a marchioness if she married him. She would never ride in fine carriages or move among the ton elite.
He was General Caleb Brayden and could only offer her a soldier’s life. When he proposed to her, he did not want her to see the magical dragon slayer she’d built up in her dreams. He did not want her accepting his marriage proposal only to regret it later.
As dearly as he wanted to
reveal his identity, he could not do it.
He wanted her to accept him for who he was. The soldier she’d known for a day. Hopefully, the man she would love forever.
“Faith, I’ll never hurt you.” He brought his mouth down on hers once more and lost himself in the warmth of her lips, in her sweet, lavender scent, and the passionate heat of her body. He ached to take her to his bed and feel her bare, silken skin beneath his palms, hear her breathless moans of pleasure as he loved her.
And when he held her in his arms afterward, he wanted to stroke the wild tumble of her hair as it fell across her shoulders and onto his chest.
He wanted her in his life, for she was destined to be the love of his life.
“Caleb, I can’t do this.” Her arms were still around his neck and her body was still pressed to his as though she wanted to melt inside of him.
“It’s done, Faith. My beautiful Faith. You can’t make this feeling go away.”
“I must. I’m supposed to be married soon. I–”
“Lady Faith! Lady Faith! Lord Hawley is awake and asking for you!” her maid called out, making her way toward them as she searched for her mistress.
Caleb released her and stepped back.
“I’ll be right there, Harriet!” Faith turned to him, a mask of anguish etched on her face. “I must go.”
He took her hand before she darted away. “Follow your heart, Faith.”
“I dare not.”
He held fast to her hand. “Faith–”
“Oh, please let me go. How can I follow my heart? What if it leads me to you?”
She ran off before he could respond.
Was she worried that he didn’t love her?
Or afraid that he did?
Caleb decided not to return to the manor house while Hawley was still there. Faith was already overset by their kiss. She’d be inconsolable if he and Hawley were to go at each other’s throats in front of her.
He rode Pharaoh into town to await the arrival of his regiment. His men soon appeared over a small rise in the road and it put his heart at ease to see them in good spirits. He took time to greet each one, especially taking note of those injured and asking how their wounds were healing. There were a handful with flesh wounds, broken arms, or sprained ankles who had been deemed fit enough to sail home with him on the first ship.
