“You enjoyed yourself.” It was more a statement than a question.
“I…uh… Yes, indeed, I did.” She stood looking up at him, a bit stunned. He had kissed her. Actually kissed her!
For the first time in her life.
It had all happened so fast that she hadn’t time to react at all or to feel afraid. So what had she felt? Certainly it had not been unpleasant, but…
Rob returned her gaze soberly for a moment. Then he lowered his lips to hers again, this time more deliberately. Now he did not hold her tightly, but rather merely rested his hands on her arms. Iantha stiffened, but did not pull away. She felt his breath on her lips, smelled the smoky scent that surrounded him. For a moment she held her breath. Then she closed her eyes.
His mouth touched hers softly, very gently. She could hear him breathing. Feel his hands tightening on her arms. Even as she became aware of each sensation, he released her and stepped back.
“Well.” He took a deep breath and wiped a hand over his face. “I did not intend that, but it proved very enjoyable indeed. Thank you.” He smiled, a question in his eyes.
“I… Yes. That was very…very nice.”
He must have heard the hesitation in her voice, for he responded to it. “But it is enough for now?”
Iantha nodded thoughtfully. “Yes… Yes, I believe so.”
“Very well.” He turned and guided her up the stairs. “Enough is as good as a feast.”
Had that been progress or a reverse? Rob wasn’t at all sure. As twice before, his bride-to-be had relaxed in a moment of fun and physical activity, only to retreat even further the following morning. At breakfast she had been her former polite, withdrawn self, subtly moving away at the slightest touch.
She had let him kiss her. Twice. But she had been stiff as a poker the second time, which had been a distinct disappointment to a stiffening portion of his own anatomy. At this rate he might succeed eventually in getting her into his bed, but not as a willing partner. She would be, rather, a compliant wife who simply tolerated him.
The devil with that!
He hungered for her touch, her response, for her to desire him. Somehow he must find a way to release her emotions from the prison in which she so firmly kept them. Otherwise he would find himself, for the rest of his life, caged in his own prison of loneliness.
In spite of himself his thoughts drifted back to Shakti’s earthy warmth. His first wife had joined him with a beautiful natural enthusiasm that always left him weak with satisfaction. Strange how the physical exchange created that sense of acceptance and affection. Was he being foolish to think he could have that with this injured wraith?
The more he was with her, the more he wanted it. She kindled feelings in him that he had not had in two years. Of course, the first was the wish to protect her, to use his brawny body to shelter her from further undeserved harm and unhappiness. But a more physical desire grew stronger in him every day. For a brief moment last night he had relished the delicate feel of her, the tininess of her waist, the softness of full, high breasts. No two women could possibly be more different than his Iantha and his Shakti. Both were desirable in their own way.
And Iantha was in this world with him.
Most of the ladies were retiring for an afternoon rest in preparation for the ball Christmas night—the ball at which her father would announce her engagement to Lord Duncan. Iantha shivered as she climbed the stairs. Her betrothal was becoming a reality. She moved hourly toward a man and a marriage bed that she might not be able to endure. What was she to do?
Perhaps she should cry off now, Iantha thought, but she resisted the idea. She didn’t want to take advantage of his lordship, entrapping him in a cold bed, but neither was she quite ready to admit defeat. He was so kind, so understanding. If she relinquished this opportunity, she would never have another chance at the family and home she wanted. And on a hopeful note, she had weathered her first kisses none too ill. Of course, the first one had happened so fast she hardly knew that it had happened at all.
But then there was the second one.
The one she’d had time to think about. Thank God he had not held her as tightly as he had during the first one—as some of them had when… No! She would not allow herself to think of them, of her bruised, cut lips… No! Iantha stopped her thoughts again. She must never allow herself to be drawn back to that day.
Besides, Lord Duncan’s kiss had been nothing like what happened before. He felt different and he smelled different and he touched her with such gentleness. She might become accustomed to him. Yes, there was an excellent chance. She must rely on her intellect, not let herself think about…
Control. She would exert control.
Lost in her thoughts, Iantha looked up, startled when she perceived a figure lounging at the top of the staircase. “Oh! Good afternoon, Lord Kendal. I did not see you there.”
Kendal straightened and bowed. “I have been waiting for you. I heard you bidding the ladies goodbye and felt sure you were coming up to your room.”
Oh, dear. A most disquieting situation. Iantha searched for an unmistakable dismissal. “Yes. I am very tired, and I have the headache. If you will excuse me…”
She walked around him, but he turned to accompany her. Iantha could feel every muscle in her body growing tight. He placed a hand on her neck and rubbed. “I know an excellent cure for the headache. If you will allow me, it would be my pleasure to serve you.”
Serve her! As though she were a mare and he a stallion? Surely that was not what he meant. She pulled away from his hand and turned to glare at him. “That will not be necessary, I thank you.”
He quickly captured her fingers. “Come now, Miss Kethley, we both know you are no innocent schoolroom miss. I am sure I could be of service to you.” He turned her hand over and kissed the palm.
Damn him! He was not the first man to think that her experience somehow conferred a need on her that only a man could satisfy. She jerked her hand away, stepping back against the wall. “Sir! You forget yourself! Please allow me to pass.”
“Yes, Kendal. You also forget me.” Both Kendal and Iantha jumped and turned toward Rob, who was approaching down the corridor. “I am not accustomed to allowing ladies to suffer unwanted attention in my home.” He stopped a few steps away, holding Kendal’s gaze with his own.
Kendal stepped away from Iantha, but did not withdraw. “Perhaps you should ask the lady her preferences before you interfere.”
“I know this lady’s preference. I suggest you move on.”
Kendal continued to glare and did not move on. Rob shrugged. “There is a nasty storm brewing, Kendal. You wouldn’t want to find yourself out in it.”
The other man narrowed his eyes in speculation, then bowed, a knowing smirk on his face. “Of course. I always respect a lady’s preference.”
He whirled and went back down the stairs. Rob turned to Iantha. “I’m sorry you had to endure that. May I walk you to your sitting room?”
“Thank you.” She drew herself up, and cursing the blush she knew must be coloring her face, started down the hall, careful not to touch his lordship. Why must he see that episode? The very thought of what had just happened made her feel dirty. She didn’t want anyone to know that some men saw her the way Kendal did. And he had strained the precious control she was depending on to deal with Lord Duncan.
Rob was watching her closely as he opened the door of her parlor. As soon as he had closed it behind them, he turned to face her. “Why are you embarrassed? You are not responsible for Kendal’s behavior.”
Iantha walked to the window and stood looking out at the blowing snow. She could almost wish that Rob had put Kendal out into it. She felt Rob’s presence as he moved to stand behind her. Without turning around she said, “He makes me feel soiled.”
“You aren’t, you know.” His voice was gentle.
“You and Mama keep telling me that. But other people—people like Lord Kendal—clearly think I am. How anyone can think
that what I experienced made me want to repeat it I cannot imagine.”
“Men such as he would like to think that all women find them irresistible.” Iantha could hear the smile in Rob’s voice. She turned toward him, and he sobered. “But Kendal is cautious in whom he approaches.”
“So he chooses me—already damaged goods.”
“Don’t ever let me hear you say that again!”
At the thunder in his voice, Iantha jumped and stepped hastily back. His lordship did not move, but his voice softened. “Forgive me. I did not meant to shout. But I am serious, Iantha. Do not allow them the victory of your seeing yourself that way. Do not allow the likes of Kendal to make you view yourself in that light. Do not allow anyone to do that to you.”
Iantha stared down at her shoes. He was right, of course. “I try not to, but it is very hard.”
“I’m sure it is.” She sensed him reaching for her, then dropping his hand to his side. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that he had not touched her. Perhaps he didn’t want to. She lifted her gaze to his. The expression in his eyes surprised her.
There was a wanting in them.
Could he possibly really want her?
Chapter Seven
Rob looked down into Iantha’s upturned face. Her violet eyes were clear and deep and questioning. Something in him wanted desperately to step into them and soar with her into the mountain sky. To seek the highest pinnacle. To wrap her in his arms and make her no longer a wraith. To make her real.
But not today.
No, this was hardly an auspicious moment to indulge that lofty dream. Rob shook himself and came back to the reality of situation. He smiled ruefully. “Let us consign Lord Kendal and his ilk to the devil. This is Christmas.” He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small, wrapped parcel. “I have something for you.”
Iantha’s face brightened. “A gift for me? How kind of you.” She signaled that they should sit on the sofa in front of the fire and led the way. When they were comfortably settled, he handed her the package and watched her pull the ribbon and paper off, relieved and pleased when the happiest smile he had yet seen on her face appeared.
“An Anne Vallayer-Coster miniature! I would know her work anywhere. How marvelous! I would not have thought you could find anything by her in Cumberland.”
Rob grinned. “I didn’t. Sam went to London last week. I threatened him and told him not to dare come back without one. I had hoped for something larger, but this was all he could find on short notice.”
Iantha smiled. “This is perfect. I will set it on my bed table in a place of honor. But you are going to laugh. I have something for you, also.”
“Why am I going to laugh at that?” Rob watched the graceful sway of her hips as she walked to the desk and returned with a slightly larger package.
“Open it and you will see.”
Rob made short work of the wrappings, uncovering a folder of heavy marbleized paper. Opening it carefully, he revealed a small painting of a waterfall in full spate, done in strong glowing colors. Mounted on the opposite side of the cover was a short poem, written in a delicate script.
And chuckle he did. “Another painting. Well, they do say great minds run together.”
“Do you like it? I did the watercolor about a year ago when I went with my father to Crag Force. It… Somehow it seemed to suit you, so I added the poem.”
Rob cleared his throat and read aloud.
“Crag Force
O rush of water bright,
The very earth is cloven by thy might.
My poor senses thy thunder overwhelms,
Dizzied as in faerie’s realm.
Captive held is my enraptured gaze.
It is my soul the ransom pays.
Dare I rest here in this hour,
Or will I crumble, shattered by thy power?
“Iantha Elizabeth Kethley”
Rob slowly lowered the folder to his lap and, with one finger, wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He turned to meet her anxious eyes. “That is beautiful. You wrote it for me? I… No one ever gave me such a gift before. I am touched and flattered more than I can say.”
He reached out and stroked her face lightly with his big hand, relieved when she did not move away. Rob wondered if she realized the significance of her own words.
“…will I crumble, shattered by thy power?”
God! She was so afraid, and he couldn’t even enclose her in his arms to comfort her.
He would not, he vowed, be the cause of her crumbling.
Rob shut his eyes for a moment in a prayer for wisdom.
She had never really been to a ball. Had she made her come-out, no doubt it would have become a routine experience by now. Iantha should have been excited, but somehow her anxiety kept the excitement away. Tonight the world would come to understand that Lord Duncan planned to take the very questionable Miss Kethley to wife. Every person in the room would be thinking about what had happened to her, wondering what in the world his lordship was thinking, what his true motivation might be. And those who had heard the story of her sojourn in his house would be speculating even further.
Heaven help her.
At least she looked reasonably well. Through the mirror she watched Molly put the finishing touches on her hair. Her locks echoed the low-cut, silver ball gown and slender necklace. As Rob had said, she did look a bit like the powdered ladies of the last century. The effect was pleasant enough. She would not put her newly acquired fiancé to the blush.
A soft knock fell on the door. Iantha turned in that direction while Molly went to open it, pausing to pick up something lying on the floor in front of it. Rob, resplendent in formal attire, stepped in.
He was smiling his infectious smile. “Are you ready for the momentous occasion? I’ll escort you down.”
“I suppose I am.” Iantha rose and walked to meet him, a reluctant smile coaxed out by his. “Perhaps when this is over, I shall be able to relax.” She turned to her maid. “Thank you, Molly. That will be all.”
Molly curtsied, handed her the object she had just retrieved from the floor, and went out the door. The object proved to be a folded note. Iantha unfolded the paper and glanced at the message. Her heart sank, and she could feel the blood draining from her face. She whirled around and started for the fire.
Rob intercepted her in two long strides. “Not so fast. What is that? You are white as the snow.”
Iantha’s mouth dried up, and she tried in vain to find words to answer him. How could she describe the vile thing? Rob didn’t wait for an explanation, but took the letter from her and scanned it. As he read, his eyebrows drew closer and closer together until he finally let out a roar.
“Damnation!” He started toward the fire himself, took a step and halted, turning back to Iantha, his expression dark. “If anything deserves to be cast in the flames, this atrocity certainly does. But I think we should make a push to discover who sent it. We might be able to identify the writer by his hand.”
Rob stuffed it into his pocket and reached out to clasp Iantha’s arms. She continued to look down at her hands, shame taking her breath.
“How many of these bloody abominations have you received?”
Iantha shrugged. “I have no idea. I have gotten at least one a month for the last six years.”
“And you have hidden them from your parents?”
“After they became upset. Now I…I just burn the letters.”
“Dear heaven! Were they all like this one?”
“Yes…well, the language was the same. I can’t even understand much of it. Some are like this one, calling me vile names, reminding me of my condition and accusing me of a haughtiness to which I have no right. Others…” Oh, God, the others. How could she even think of the others?
Iantha drew in a long breath. Control. She reached for her control. “Some recount the…the event in great detail and tell me how much they enjoyed it. They—they…” Her composure was slipping. “They t
ell me that they will do it again s-soon.” In spite of her determination, Iantha dropped her head into her hands.
The sound that issued from her prospective bridegroom sounded more like the growl of a beast than the utterance of a man. His arms closed around her, and to her surprise, he was trembling. She could hear him gulping air, trying to contain his rage. Somehow the extent of his anger comforted her. For a moment its energy shielded her.
Several heartbeats later he released her, and she looked up into his face. “Why? Why are they doing this to me?”
“Because they are evil and cruel and desire power. They know how much their actions hurt you. It makes them feel powerful to stalk you, to remind you of it, to frighten you again. Damnation! And I invited one of them into your presence.”
“Oh, dear God! They are here! Someone is here, in this house. One of the men who did that to me is right here!” A wave of rising hysteria threatened to choke her. She gasped for a sustaining breath and gritted her teeth. Control.
Rob’s arm tightened around her shoulders. He stood silent for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. Finally he shook his head. “Perhaps. But not necessarily. This letter does not mention the specific event. The writer may just be someone who is angry with you.”
“Lord Kendal?” Iantha pulled away and begin to pace the floor.
“Hmm. That might fit with this afternoon’s incident. But I have the impression that his intelligence is not sufficiently lacking for him to do anything so obvious. Is there someone else you have refused?”
“No one who is here. No…wait. Long before the attack occurred, I slapped Cosby Carrock’s face, but that was just a boyish—”
“No.” Rob held up one finger. “That sort of behavior cannot be excused as boyish folly. I think I know you well enough to be convinced that you would not have struck him if you could have dismissed him politely.”
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