by Meara Platt
“How so? I thought you meant to marry only for love.”
“I do. I…” Her face suffused with color. She appeared to stop breathing.
Blessed saints!
Was she in love with him?
She tore out of the room before he had the chance to ask. She’d left her walking stick behind, taking off as though a raging fire was about to envelop her and she was fleeing for her life.
He strode out after her, knowing she wouldn’t get far without her walking stick. She’d already tired herself out walking up here from town. He caught up to her not far from his home as she was cutting across a nearby copse of trees and already limping.
He grabbed her by the waist and drew her up against him, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her tight to keep her from struggling. “Prudence, I’m not letting you get away. Stop fighting me.”
“Please let me go, Your Grace. Have I not humiliated myself enough?”
He turned her to face him, noting the hot tears spilling onto her cheeks. “My name is Bhrodi. I gave you permission to call me Bhrodi.”
“That was before you knew how I felt about you. I’m so dense. I never realized it until last week when I sprained my ankle and you had to lift me into your arms. I came undone.” She said the last with a quiet sob, using the back of her hand to rub away the moisture on her cheeks. “My insides turned to pudding. My heart… well, it still hasn’t recovered.”
He released her suddenly and stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell me that.”
“I can’t help it,” she said with a sniffle, once again using her hand to wipe away the stray tears. “I don’t know how to be anything but truthful.”
He shook his head and gave a mirthless laugh. “I know. You are too often brutally honest with me.”
She cast him a pained smile. “You often leave me no choice. You’re quite highhanded, even for a powerful and arrogant duke. However, I will admit that I can be the same, at times.”
“Certainly when it comes to protecting your birds.” He wanted to reach out and take her into his arms again, but knew it would only make matters worse. He liked Prudence’s strong will and independent spirit.
He could resist his attraction to this girl when she was fearless and determined. But she now stood before him so innocent and vulnerable. This softer Prudence, this girl who trusted him with the secrets of her heart, was devastating to his resolve. If he took her into his arms now, he would never let her go. “Prudence, I didn’t have to carry you in my arms that day. Did it ever occur to you that I wanted to do it? That despite your constant defiance and every other quality about you that I found insufferably irritating, that I wanted you? Did that ever occur to you?”
Her eyes were wide as saucers. “No, quite frankly. It didn’t.”
He shook his head and gave a groaning laugh.
Her hand went to her throat and she let out a soft gasp. “Are you suggesting that you love me?”
“No, Prudence. Good grief, where did you get that idea? Lustful desire is not the same as love.”
She regarded him with confusion. “Then you desire me? Even though I’m as thorny as a bramble bush?”
He nodded. “But I’ll never act upon that desire.”
“Why not?”
Hell, he wouldn’t act upon it because what he felt was something much more than that. He couldn’t possibly love her. She was just as she’d said, all brambles and sharp thorns. But he wanted her with an ache that he’d never felt for anyone before. An agonizing ache, if he wished to be honest about it. Which he didn’t. He was the Serpent’s scion, not some pasty-faced romantic. He controlled his heart. How could he surrender it to Prudence? “I respect you too much to dishonor you. To seduce you would also dishonor your family. Your father is a good man. One of the few honest men around.”
“I know. I’m very proud of him. I wish to find a way to make him proud of me.”
The soft quiver of uncertainty in her voice tugged at Bhrodi’s soul. “I’m sure he is, Prudence. You have many commendable qualities. You are clever and compassionate, for starters. You fight for the things that matter to you. I admire that about you, even though it often puts us at odds.”
She cast him a hopeful glance. “Thank you. You’re the first man besides my father who’s ever told me that. Perhaps this is why I fell in love with you despite your attempts to toss me off your property. You see beyond my outward appearance. You think of my intelligence as a strength and not as a flaw to be subdued. It feels nice to be seen for the person I am and not to be broken and twisted into somebody I’m not.”
Hell, she was doing it again, destroying his resistance. She would surely conquer his serpent heart if he ever let down his guard. “You can’t blame others for admiring your beauty. It is hard to overlook. I also like that you don’t rely on your looks to get your way. In truth, I’m not certain you realize just how beautiful you are.”
She cleared her throat. “Are you certain you don’t like me enough to marry me? Because it sounds as though you might. Would you give it additional consideration? It would mean a lot to me if you did.”
“Are you proposing to me, Prudence?”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “I suppose it must have sounded that way.”
“I don’t mind that you did. But what I wish to know is whether you proposed because you love me or because you love your birds more and wish to save them?” Why wasn’t he ranting and raging and angry at this girl who didn’t have the sense to realize that one did not propose to a duke. One waited for the duke to propose. Which he wasn’t going to do. Dukes did not offer for magistrate’s daughters.
“Why can’t I love you and my birds? Must I choose one over the other?”
No, of course not.
Why were they even speaking of love? Worse, speaking of marriage. They had smugglers to catch. He needed to destroy the Mongoose.
He needed to keep Prudence away from that villain and safe.
“Prudence, no more of this romantic nonsense. Do not let your guard down around me. While I may recognize your other fine qualities and have held off out of respect for you, my feelings toward you are not honorable.”
“They’re not?”
“Not in the least. I want to kiss you. I want to take you into my bed and hold you in my arms. I want to keep you in my bed and bury myself in your delectable body. But I want to do those things to you because you rouse my base desires. Don’t mistake my lust for love.”
He’d spoken with outrageous bluntness and would not have blamed her if she’d slapped him. The notion did not appear to have crossed her mind. She smiled wryly at him instead. “I won’t make that mistake. In truth, I never have and never will. But I’m not certain that all you feel for me is lust. What if you do love me back?”
He growled low in his throat. Why did this girl always have to push him to his limit? “I don’t.”
“I think you’re wrong. Do you wish to know why I think you love me back?”
“No.”
Her smile faded in disappointment, but she was obviously not ready to give up. “Very well. I won’t tell you. I’ll keep quiet about it and not say another word. However, it is a terrible shame that–”
“Prudence, you’re still talking.” He lifted her into his arms because she was limping and her leg appeared about to buckle out from under her. He couldn’t bear to see her in pain. He wanted to protect this girl. He knew he would give up his life without a moment’s hesitation to protect her.
But it didn’t mean he loved her.
Serpents did not fall in love with bird ladies.
That he wanted to crush his lips to hers, to kiss her and taste her until he’d satisfied himself of his craving for Prudence, did not mean he loved her. That he wanted to feel her soft curves beneath him when he took her into his bed and settled his body over hers, merely proved he was craven in his desires.
He did want to explore every inch of her lithe body. He did want to ru
n his hands and lips along her silken skin until she was writhing with pleasure and calling out his name. He ached to touch her and taste her and spend himself inside of her.
But to do so outside of marriage would crush the life and spirit out of Prudence.
He’d never forgive himself for that.
He wanted to do all of those things to her, but he would do them only in his dreams. Of course, he could have sated his lust elsewhere. He had only to cast a glance and a dozen women would eagerly come to him. But he didn’t want other women. He wanted the woman with flame-red hair and jade green eyes who filled his wildest fantasies.
No other.
He couldn’t believe it.
Prudence?
But what he felt for Prudence was exactly as she’d suggested, something more than lust. No one but Prudence was ever going to satisfy that feeling. It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. Love grew slowly and over great lengths of time, didn’t it? Love did not strike as swiftly and lethally as a serpent’s bite.
That would be quite the ironic jest, the Serpent caught unaware by love’s swift bite.
“I’ll take you home,” he grumbled. “I need to look at your bird sketches.”
He hoped those drawings would reveal the identity of the Mongoose.
His life would then be simplified.
Destroy the Mongoose.
Then close up Pembroke Hall and return to London.
Then try like hell to forget Prudence.
Chapter Four
“MY NOTEBOOKS ARE gone,” Prudence said, hurrying back downstairs to her parlor where Bhrodi had been pacing ever since their arrival. She ought to be thinking of him as His Grace or the Duke of Pembroke. But he’d captured her heart and she couldn’t think of him as anything but Bhrodi now.
Her Bhrodi.
Assuming he’d ever admit he felt the same way about her.
It was unlikely.
He was perfection.
She was the irritating bird lady who’d trespassed on his land.
Her heart pounded through her ears. “Someone has been through my bedchamber. They’ve searched everywhere and ransacked my bureau. That’s where these notebooks are supposed to be.”
Bhrodi’s eyes darkened and he cast her a familiar frown. “Are you certain? Perhaps you moved them and simply forgot.”
“No, I didn’t. Someone took them.” She rushed into the hall and went in search of Eleanora, finding her and several maids tidying up her father’s library. There were empty glasses everywhere and the chairs had been moved around. “Eleanora, was Father here?”
“Why, yes. With members of the town council. They left only a few moments before you returned home. What’s the matter, Prudence? You look overset.”
“My notebooks are missing.”
Eleanora’s fat, grayish curls bobbed around her ears as she shook her head in dismissal. “You must have moved them and forgotten,” she said, repeating Bhrodi’s comment.
“I didn’t. I am always careful with these sketch books. Who was here with Father?”
Eleanora motioned for the maids to leave them when Bhrodi entered the library to join the discussion. “Your Grace.” She bobbed a respectful curtsy.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Pertwee. It is important for us to know who accompanied your husband.”
“Well, most of the town council was just here. Let me see,” she said, her voice high pitched as her nerves got the better of her. “There was Squire Bennett. My nephew, Joshua Crompton. He took over my first husband’s seat on the council. He’s a charming young man and quite besotted with Prudence.” She paused to frown lightly at Prudence. “I do wish you’d give him a chance.”
Bhrodi cleared his throat. “Who else, Mrs. Pertwee?”
“Oh, yes. Sir Reginald Hawley. There was also the blacksmith, Charles Frayne. Oh, and Sir Emrys de Courcy and his son, Dylan de Courcy.”
“Lucinda’s father and brother,” Prudence explained. “But they must be ruled out. Why would they want my notebooks? Lucinda has her own.”
Bhrodi’s expression turned thoughtful, for he was obviously running through the names in his head, hoping to discern who belonged and who was out of place. “Only those men?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Oh, dear me. I almost forgot. There were two other gentlemen that Sir Emrys and his son brought along, but I did not recognize them. They weren’t local men. I’d never seen them before. Now, what were their names?” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Oh, dear. I can’t recall. But I think they were from Aberystwyth. No, that isn’t quite right. No, but it was Aber… something?”
She sighed and shook her head again before continuing. “Not very nice men, if you ask me. They were standing in the parlor while the council members were discussing something or other, no doubt concerning them. But I overheard them talking to each other. I couldn’t quite make it out. They were whispering. That’s when they mentioned Aber… something.”
Bhrodi’s gaze intensified. “Aberffraw?”
“Yes, it could very well have been. Indeed, it was Aberffraw. I’m sure of it. But that’s all I heard, Your Grace. As I said, they weren’t friendly chaps. What have they to do with Prudence’s lost books?”
Bhrodi shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps nothing. Did those two strangers ever leave the parlor? Or mention anything else to you?”
Eleanora shook her head. “Leave the parlor? I don’t think so, but I was attending to my household duties and not paying particular attention to the council members or those men.” Eleanora’s expression turned into one of dismay. “I did hear someone go up the stairs, but I assumed it was my husband. Oh, dear. I ought to have looked, but I thought nothing of it at the time.”
“Eleanora, you’ve been most helpful.” Prudence patted her hand to calm her as she became agitated. “Please don’t distress yourself.”
Eleanora nodded and then turned to Bhrodi. “I’m sure my husband will know more about these men. Or Lucinda’s father may be of help. I think he and Dylan returned to their house after the meeting ended. They did not follow the others back to the magistrate’s hall so they ought to be at home now.”
Prudence rushed to the window and glanced across the garden to the neatly maintained house behind her own. She and Lucinda often cut across the grassy expanse instead of using the road whenever visiting each other. “Let’s pay a call on them right now. I wonder if Lucinda is home. We must warn her before her books are stolen.”
The duke nodded. “Lead the way, Miss Pertwee.”
Prudence tried not to look as eager as she felt. Bhrodi always managed to look so calm, but she was leaping out of her skin with excitement to solve this mystery. She had to find out who was killing her birds. She’d leave it up to him to address the matter of smuggling. She didn’t care about that. Everyone in Wales smuggled goods or was related to someone who did. It was a harmless enough way of exerting independence over their English dominance.
What was not harmless was the murder of her birds.
She led the way to the de Courcy residence. “What is the significance of that name you mentioned? Aberffraw? Isn’t that the name of the old Welsh ruling family? But the House of Aberffraw died out in the late thirteenth century when Llywelyn ap Gruffud was defeated by your English king.”
“My king? He is yours as well. Wales has been a part of England ever since that victory.” He paused a moment in his step and held her back as they neared the de Courcy home. “Do you still consider yourself Welsh and not English?”
She tipped her chin up. “Should I forget my heritage? Are you any less at fault for thinking of yourself as English when your title is one of the oldest and proudest in Wales? Pembroke means land’s end. That’s what the dukes of Pembroke were installed to protect. This land. You were the first line of defense from attack by sea. From any foreign force that attempted to step onto the green hills of Wales. Your ancestor was the Serpent. The bravest defender Wales ever had.”
“I know my family history.” H
e furrowed his brow in thought. “Tell me about the de Courcy family. Do they feel as you do? They’ve kept their Welsh names. Father and son. The father’s name, Emrys, means immortal in the old Welsh tongue. The son’s name, Dylan, means son of the waves.”
Prudence’s eyes narrowed. “What are you suggesting? That they are traitors to the Crown? We all have pride in our lineage. It doesn’t mean we seek to overthrow the English king.”
She searched his expression and gasped. “This is why you’re really here. This is why you don’t want me on those cliffs. You think there’s a plot afoot to do just that. But why attempt to overthrow the royal family here? Why not in London? Or is this plot merely a fight to toss the English out of Wales? Does it extend beyond our borders?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “That’s what I need to find out. I don’t know who is behind this treachery. But your sketches may contain a vital clue.”
He turned and took the final steps to reach the de Courcy front door.
Prudence’s heart tugged as she realized the impossibility of her situation. Bhrodi was not of her world. He was a powerful duke with royal connections to one of the oldest ruling houses of Wales as well as England. De Sherra and de Wolfe. Why would he ever admit to loving her, the local bird watcher? To hold out hope that he would was pointless and foolish. “What will we do if those scoundrels have already grabbed Lucinda’s sketches?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ll have to rely on you to tell me what you and Lucinda drew and you’ll have to show me the cave in question.” He glanced at her foot and frowned as the de Courcy butler opened the door in response to his knock. “You’re still limping.”
She ignored the pain in her foot. Her birds were more important than any minor discomfort. “I’ll manage,” she hastily muttered. “You’ll just have to help me along the slippery parts.”
