Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

by Anna Campbell

  “You needn’t go, tesoro,” he said gently. “I can turn the carriage around and we’ll be back in Devon tomorrow. Or we’ll stay at Ferney. I won’t cavil at offering you a bedroom. Preferably mine.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Compared to her usual smiles, this one was a caricature. As if to soothe a headache, her free hand rubbed her brow. Guilt stabbed him. He had no right to torment her. She sighed, the sound inexpressibly sad. “You make everything sound so sensible when we both know it’s wrong.”

  His voice shook with sincerity. “What care I for scandal? What care you? Where has toeing the line got you? A damned thankless position as William’s drudge and Roberta’s cat’s paw. I’ve lived with scandal since my father’s marriage was declared invalid. Confront it with your head high and it cowers away.”

  Her hand tightened. “You promised a week before I have to make up my mind.”

  “You can do that at Ferney.”

  “You drive coherent thought to the wind.”

  Did that mean she’d stay? One glance at her determined expression confirmed his doubts.

  The coach rolled to a gentle stop before the ostentatious house. After Jonas grabbed Sidonie’s bag and helped her out, Hobbs continued to the stables. A footman opened Ferney’s tall doors with a flourish, but Jonas waved him inside.

  For the first time today, he read genuine amusement in Sidonie’s eyes when she surveyed the ornate Portland stone façade with its balustrades and pediments and columns. “You know, I’ve longed to see inside Ferney. The neighbors are agog at the extravagance. I was so disappointed when your hall at Castle Craven contained hardly a stick of furniture.”

  Without pleasure, he glanced at the house’s pillared portico and grand double staircase. “Buying it was childish.”

  She made no attempt to pull her hand from his. “Oh, I don’t know. It upset William mightily. I consider the money well spent.”

  Hell, he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. “Why not stay an hour? I’ll show you the house. The servants won’t gossip. They’re far too well paid to risk their positions.”

  She shook her head, lowering it so the ugly bonnet hid her face. When he burned the blasted cloak, he’d toss that straw contraption on the pyre as kindling.

  “Jonas, you don’t understand.” Her voice was subdued. He realized her composure was entirely superficial. Beneath the apparent acceptance, she was unhappy and unsure. “If I don’t go now, I fear I won’t go at all.”

  He gripped her hand as if he never meant to release her. “Then don’t go.”

  She raised her head and stared at him. Her eyes were dull and her face was pale. “You needed a week to seduce me into a state of insanity where I’m considering marriage. Give me a week to decide whether to change a lifetime’s intentions.”

  It sounded reasonable. Damn it, it was reasonable. “I’ll stay at Ferney. You merely need to cross the boundary.”

  She stroked his jaw in a tender gesture that recalled a hundred other tender gestures. He stifled the urge to bully her. She wouldn’t bend. His woman was strong and resolute. If she embarked on life with him, she’d have to be.

  Still she stared at him as though she’d die if she looked anywhere else. Did she know how close he was to sweeping her into his arms and racing her away?

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  She touched his lips in a gesture of farewell and he caught a glimmer of tears. Trapped in her fathomless brown gaze, he felt the fatal declaration rise. He beat it back, although she must know he loved her. Every action betrayed his feelings, however risky the words. “Sidonie…”

  “Oh, my dear…” Her voice cracked and she sagged, her strength failing. His arm circled her waist even as she straightened and focused upon him. “Don’t make this more difficult.”

  “At least eat something before you go.”

  Her smile was shaky. “You’re still trying to feed me.”

  “Something to restore you after the journey.” His pride revolted at how he begged another minute, another hour, but he was beyond caring.

  She shook her head. “No, Jonas.”

  “ ‘No, Jonas’ is all you ever say,” he responded with a hint of savagery. He knew he was unfair, but he was just so damned miserable.

  Her smile wavered into a warmth that calmed his anger. “Not always.”

  He shut his eyes as the memory of wild nights overpowered him. Good God, at this rate, he’d be bawling like a motherless calf.

  She touched his scarred cheek again. “Just kiss… kiss me good-bye.”

  He told himself she’d be back in a week. Surely she’d see sense once she faced lonely reality. Surely she’d miss him the way he’d miss her. But that wasn’t how it felt. It felt like she forsook him forever.

  He drew her into the shadow of the staircase to shield her from anyone in the house. Slowly he twined his arms around her, relishing how perfectly she fit his body. Her hands slid up his chest, trailing fire even through his clothing, and linked behind his neck. He stared down at her, memorizing each feature. The wide, shining eyes; the marked brows; the pointed, determined chin indicating stubbornness under the sweetness. Didn’t he know that to his bones? If she wasn’t stubborn, she’d still be in his bed. If she wasn’t stubborn, he wouldn’t love her so much, confound her.

  His head inched down. Her lush lips parted and passion surged, as it always did when they kissed. The world flared into heat and demand. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, staking the claim she denied with words but affirmed with every caress. She moaned and kissed him back voraciously, as though struggling to jam a lifetime into one embrace.

  All too soon, the kiss changed, its fire retreated until only banked embers remained. The recognition that this was farewell threatened to rip his aching heart in two. She whimpered at the back of her throat and slowly, reluctantly drew away.

  He let her go. What choice had he? He’d promised her freedom if she married him. If he compelled her now, he’d prove himself the tyrant she feared in a husband.

  Very slowly, she lowered her arms as if she hated relinquishing the contact. Tears glinted in her dark eyes, but her head was high and she stood straight. “Take me back to Barstowe Hall, Jonas.”

  Sidonie needed her key to slip into Barstowe Hall through the kitchens. At this hour, the small staff usually gathered there for tea. To her surprise, the cavernous, underground room was empty. She’d prepared tales about her visit to London, but nobody was present to hear. Nor did she need to make excuses about one of Roberta’s town friends dropping her off at the gates on an urgent errand elsewhere.

  Nor did she encounter any servants as she made her way through the house. The silence was uncanny, eerie. A shiver chilled her skin. The rooms were cold and shadowy as wintry evening closed in.

  “Hello?”

  The only response was the echo of her voice. What on earth had happened in her absence? Had William turned off the staff? She knew things were bad with her brother-in-law, but she hadn’t realized his finances reached quite that pass.

  She was walking toward her bedroom along the second-floor corridor when she heard a muffled bang from the schoolrooms above. Fear tightened her skin. Had a robber broken in? There wasn’t much to take. William had sold anything valuable. Whatever little remained after Jonas’s father had ransacked the house before his death.

  Quietly, she set her bag down and lifted a chipped earthenware vase from a side table. If it had been whole, William would have sold it long ago.

  She crept up the next flight of stairs. Carefully she inched the nursery door open and raised the vase above her head. Only to drop it in shock.

  “Roberta?” she asked over the crash of pottery on bare floorboards.

  Her sister whirled around from clearing the crammed and dusty shelves along one wall. At her feet sat two gaping valises. One overflowed with toys. The other was empty.

  “Goodness gracious, you frightened the life out of me.” Roberta rushed forward through the potter
y shards to hug Sidonie. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried about you.”

  Sidonie returned the hug, feeling Roberta’s trembling tension. Her sister’s manner was always brittle but this surpassed her usual nervousness. Something was seriously wrong. “I’m fine.”

  Robert drew back and surveyed her with a frown. “That’s a little pat for a woman who’s just returned from the monster’s lair.”

  “He’s not a monster.”

  “He didn’t hurt you?”

  What to say? “No.”

  “I’m so glad. Although I can hardly believe it. I must hear everything, but not now. Now you have to help me.” Roberta turned to grab another handful of toys from the shelves and stashed them into the empty bag.

  Apprehension stabbed Sidonie between the temples as she finally saw her sister properly. Roberta looked dreadful. Distraught and untidy, when Lady Hillbrook always appeared in public comme il faut. Dust hemmed her green muslin dress, grime smudged an alabaster cheek and her coiffure wasn’t far from collapse.

  “What in the world are you doing? Where are the servants?”

  With unsteady hands, Roberta pitched a cracked slate into the empty bag. “I sent them off for the afternoon. They’re all sneaks and spies.”

  From habit, Sidonie checked her sister for signs of violence, but she seemed unharmed. “Are you all right?”

  Roberta avoided her eyes and grabbed a worn set of lead soldiers that the boys hadn’t touched for years. She struggled to stuff them into the bag. “Of course I’m all right. Oh, for pity’s sake, why can’t these things fit?”

  Sidonie surged forward and grabbed her sister’s busy hands, holding them until she caught Roberta’s undivided attention. This close, she saw the blind panic that underlay Roberta’s confusion. Only one person terrified Roberta like this. “What’s wrong, Roberta? What has William done?”

  What in heaven’s name was going on? Had William found out about the losses to Jonas? Had the mental instability the duke mentioned at Castle Craven burgeoned into full-grown madness?

  Sidonie could see Roberta was too distracted to think beyond the present moment. Even the peril she’d sent Sidonie into didn’t really register beyond her current fear.

  “We can’t talk now.” Roberta flung off her sister’s grip and turned to snatch another handful of toys. “We have to go before William arrives.”

  “Are you leaving him?”

  Roberta dropped the toys willy-nilly. A cricket ball with a split seam missed the bag and rolled across the floor. “Yes.”

  Sidonie wasn’t sorry to hear the news, although she wondered just how she and her sister would survive until the legacy came into effect in January. “But why?”

  “The man’s a pig.”

  “He’s been a pig your whole married life. Why leave now?”

  “There’s no time to explain.” Roberta’s eyes glittered with spiraling dread. “For pity’s sake, help me pack.”

  Sidonie’s tone firmed in an attempt to calm her sister. In eight turbulent years of marriage, she’d never seen Roberta like this. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Nervously Roberta checked over Sidonie’s shoulder as if expecting William to appear like a bugaboo from a children’s story, rising to devour his victim. “Sidonie, don’t push.”

  “This behavior seems lunatic. And what do you want with the boys’ toys?”

  Roberta cast a fleeting glance at the overflowing bags. “Don’t be a slow-top, Sidonie. I’ll need money. Curse that blackguard for stripping the house of everything worth selling.” Her expression brightened. “Did you find anything valuable in the library?”

  Sidonie shook her head. “It’s all rubbish. What’s made you leave William?”

  Roberta finally stopped flinging toys about and looked at her, twisting her hands in painful distress. “I lost at cards.”

  Sidonie, still reeling from parting with Jonas, staggered back. Horror made her light-headed. Hardly believing what she heard, she pressed a shaking hand to her sinking heart. She was too appalled to be angry, although she’d be angry soon enough. “Roberta, you didn’t. After losing that fortune to Mr. Merrick?”

  Roberta had the grace to look abashed, but she rushed on before Sidonie mustered further censure. “A mere trifle. Two hundred guineas at piquet to Lord Maskell. The scoundrel pressed for payment, then threatened to tell William.”

  Oh, Roberta, no…

  The scale of this disaster beggared imagination. Sidonie had assumed her sister would be so chastened after skirting disgrace with Jonas that she’d change her ways. What a naïve fool she’d been. Roberta would never change. She was addicted to gaming the way a toper was addicted to brandy.

  “Roberta, how could you keep gambling after what happened with Mr. Merrick?” she asked through stiff lips.

  Roberta’s shrug was unconvincing. She’d known what she risked, but she’d gone ahead and gambled anyway. “I had a run of luck. Only a ninnyhammer leaves the table when the cards are kind.”

  “Until you lost two hundred guineas,” Sidonie said bitterly. Acrid rage curdled her stomach as she battled the impulse to wring her sister’s delicate neck. “Where do you intend to go?”

  Oh, Jonas, I wish I’d stayed with you. I wish I’d never left Castle Craven and your arms.

  “I thought Brighton or Harrogate. Somewhere amusing.”

  Sidonie’s lips tightened, but she resisted screaming. It would do no good. “Haven’t you had enough amusement?”

  Roberta’s lips started to tremble. “Don’t be cross.”

  “I can’t help it.” Sidonie sucked in a deep breath and sought some solution to this catastrophe. The clamor of competing obligations made her dizzy. The marriage lines gave her some pull over William, but that meant never telling Jonas about his legitimacy. And if Roberta hurt William’s pride, it was possible that out of spite, he’d insist on her continuing to live with him, title or no title. Sidonie also needed time to arrange for William to release guardianship of his sons. Roberta’s hysterical escape would make William so angry, he’d never negotiate. Sidonie knew from experience how unreasonable he was when taunted.

  She struggled to speak calmly. “William will find you in a fashionable town. You need to disappear. At least until my legacy comes due. Even then, William mustn’t know where you are. He has the law on his side if he wants you back.”

  The frenzy drained from Roberta’s eyes and briefly she became again the older sister Sidonie had always loved. “You know what my life has been. You of all people should support my bid for freedom.”

  “You haven’t thought about this.” Sidonie stifled the urge to say more.

  “I’ll think once I’m away.” With renewed agitation, Roberta reached for a set of spillikins high on the shelf beside her. “We must go. He’ll know I came here. It’s the first place he’ll look.”

  Through the red haze of anger, she saw Roberta’s expression change. Her sister went white as new snow, the dirt on her face standing out like a scar against her ashen complexion. As she faltered back, spillikins tumbled from her grip to clatter onto the floor.

  Like a deadly miasma, William’s oily tones oozed through the fraught atmosphere. “So gratifying you know me so well after eight years of wedded bliss, my dear.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ice thickened Sidonie’s blood. “William…”

  He slammed her against the wall when he shoved past, forcing the air from her lungs in a painful whoosh. As he strode toward Roberta, his boots crunched on broken pottery. Using his bulk to intimidate, he loomed over his cowering wife. “Tried to scarper, did you, bitch?”

  “I… I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, dear heart,” Roberta stammered, edging away until she bumped into the empty shelves behind her.

  Dread tangled Sidonie’s belly into painful knots. One look at William’s slitted eyes and swelling cheeks, and she knew the moment she’d fought so long and hard to avoid rushed toward them. William was abou
t to kill Roberta.

  On trembling legs, Sidonie surged forward to force herself between Roberta and William. “Don’t you touch her!”

  “Get out of my bloody way, you useless slut!” Keeping his gaze on his wife, William grabbed Sidonie’s arm with bruising force and flung her to the floor. As she went down, she banged her head. Agony overwhelmed her and briefly her world turned black. Frantically she fought to clear the fog of pain from her vision. Voices echoed weirdly as she sprawled at William’s feet, words only gradually making sense through the ringing in her ears.

  “Don’t hurt my sister!” Roberta cried, flinging herself in front of Sidonie.

  “Shut up, you useless cow.” Hazily Sidonie watched William seize Roberta by the hair and force her to her knees. He tugged roughly until her neck strained at an awkward angle, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “William, please, I beg of you!” Tears cascaded down Roberta’s ashen cheeks.

  William’s face was scarlet and spittle collected at the corners of his mouth. He raised one beefy fist over his wife. Sidonie’s belly lurched with sick horror. “Maskell told me what you’d been up to.”

  “Please don’t hit me!” Roberta struggled to break free but came up short when William savagely wrenched at her disheveled chignon.

  “Let her go!” Sidonie screamed.

  Clumsily Sidonie staggered to her feet and threw herself at William. Hissing, she dug her fingernails into the hand gripping her sister, deep enough to draw blood. For a few blind seconds, she wasn’t attacking Roberta’s violent husband but the jackal who had disfigured Jonas and laughed while he did it.

  “Fucking hell! You little cat!” With a wild swerve, William released Roberta, who subsided gasping to the floor and turned on Sidonie.

  William was heavy with fat, but he was still a big, powerful man and more than a match for a woman Sidonie’s size. Ruthlessly he pried her fingernails off him then cuffed her. Pain exploded through her body as she smashed again onto the bare floorboards amid broken pottery and scattered toys. Her hands clasped over her head, she curled into a ball to protect herself. Fighting unconsciousness, she braced for William to kick her. Behind her, she heard Roberta edging across the littered floor away from her husband.