by Monica Burns
It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to become so enthralled with a woman as to lose his head as he had just a moment ago with Rhea. The voices grew louder now, and an expression of dismay crossed Rhea’s features. Percy frowned and turned his head toward the gazebo’s archway.
“If possible, you’re even more autocratic than you were before you left England, Lord Foxworth.”
“And you’ve grown more stubborn,” Foxworth snapped. “Time might have altered us somewhat Beatrice, but you cannot deny you still desire me.”
Percy raised his eyebrows in amusement as he glanced at Rhea. It appeared Foxworth had decided to renew an old love affair. Percy’s amusement changed to puzzlement at the consternation on Rhea’s face. Her expression triggered a sluggish part of his brain. Beatrice. Rhea’s aunt was the woman with Foxworth. Clearing his throat loudly, Percy looked at Rhea and jerked his head toward the gazebo doorway.
“If you are fully recovered from the heat of the ballroom, Miss Bennett, I suggest we return.” The strength of his voice rang out through the air in such a way that there was no doubt the approaching lovers would know he and Rhea were in the gazebo. A look of relief and gratitude softened Rhea’s features as she matched the volume of his voice.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Rockwood. I’m feeling much better now.” The moment she took a step toward the gazebo’s archway, Percy quickly caught her arm and brought her to a halt.
“Careful, this floor is quite uneven. I wouldn’t want you to take a spill.” His words caused her cheeks to darken with color, and he bit back a grin. Rhea Bennett might present the façade of a woman unmoved by his kiss, but she’d just betrayed she’d not been quite as unaffected as he’d thought.
“Why on earth don’t you have this floor repaired,” she bit out in a low voice.
“Because my brother and I built it when we were younger. The somewhat perilous footing has been a family joke for years.”
“Has it never occurred to the two of you to correct the problem?”
“That’s no longer possible. Caleb died last year,” Percy said with an almost crippling sense of sorrow he’d not felt in months. Her hand touched his arm in a consoling gesture.
“I’m terribly sorry, Percy.” The gentle way she said his name was pleasing to his ear. “I would never have…”
“You didn’t know. How could you?” he said with a shrug. “Come, I’ll see you safely back to the house.”
Together they walked toward the arched opening of the gazebo. In the moonlight he saw Foxworth and Beatrice Fremont walking toward them.
“Rhea, dear, what on earth are you doing out here.” There was a somewhat breathless note in Beatrice Fremont’s voice as she looked at the two of them, but there was disapproval in her voice as well.
“I have a small headache and felt a bit faint in the ballroom,” Rhea said quietly. “Mr. Rockwood was quite accommodating in finding me a place to sit down away from the heat and noise. I’m surprised to see you as well. I know how much you love to dance.”
“I convinced your aunt to take a walk with me in the gardens,” Lord Foxworth said.
“Ordered is more like it,” Beatrice Fremont said fiercely beneath her breath.
Beside him, Rhea made a small sound that Percy thought might be laughter. It made him want to hear what her real laugh sounded like. Beatrice frowned as her gaze flitted from Rhea to Foxworth to Rhea again. Like her niece, Beatrice Fremont could mask her emotions with great skill. Clearly it was a family trait.
“If you’re feeling unwell, dearest, perhaps we should go home.”
Beatrice Fremont’s suggestion made Lord Foxworth frown with irritation. The sudden thought of not being able to hold Rhea again, if only on the dance floor, sent disappointment shooting through Percy. He didn’t care for the sensation. It meant something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
“And ruin your evening?” Rhea shook her head slightly. “No, I’ll manage.”
“Might I offer a solution,” Foxworth said silkily as he cast his gaze on Mrs. Fremont. “I’ll escort your aunt home later, which will allow you to leave without worrying that you’ve interrupted Beatrice’s enjoyment of the evening.”
“I couldn’t possible stay knowing Rhea is ill.” Beatrice Fremont had the look of someone attempting to avoid a punishment. The viscount’s recommendation clearly appalled the woman.
“I think it’s a perfect solution, Aunt Beatrice,” Rhea said quietly as the merest hint of a smile touched her lips. “It would make me unhappy to know I was taking you away from the party.”
“But I—”
“It’s settled then,” Lord Foxworth said with satisfaction. “If it makes you feel better Beatrice, we can see your niece to the carriage.”
“No,” Rhea said with a pained expression that made Percy wonder if she might really have a headache. “I can fend for myself.”
“I’m happy to see your niece to her carriage, Mrs. Fremont.” At his offer, Beatrice Fremont narrowed her gaze at him. She studied him for a moment before she nodded.
“Very well.” Beatrice turned toward Rhea and stretched out her hands. “Are you certain you wouldn’t like me to go home with you?”
“No,” Rhea said as she clutched the older woman’s hands and kissed her cheek. “I’ll feel better in the morning, and I won’t feel guilty for having made you leave early.”
With a sigh, Beatrice Fremont nodded then locked arms with her niece and urged her down the path leading back to the house. Left behind to follow the women, Foxworth muttered something beneath his breath. The man was exhibiting the same frustration Percy had been experiencing with Rhea. A wry smile twisted Foxworth’s lips as met Percy’s gaze. The viscount shook his head and grimaced with exasperation.
“Beatrice is far more stubborn than I remember. Does Miss Bennett possess the same trait?”
“Although I’m newly acquainted with Mrs. Fremont, I would be willing to stake money that Rhea’s tenacious manner is the same as her aunt’s.” His reply made Foxworth nod as a thoughtful expression darkened his face.
“It’s not just their temperaments that seem quite similar. They look a great deal alike,” the man murmured softly. Percy arched an eyebrow in contemplation.
“Now that you mention it, I would have to agree,” Percy said quietly. “They could almost be mistaken for mother and daughter. However, it’s not unusual for aunts and nieces to be so similar in looks and temperament.”
“Yes, and I understand her sister Olivia looked remarkably like Beatrice,” Foxworth said with an odd note of skepticism echoing in his voice.
Although Percy didn’t question the man, his curiosity was aroused as he watched the two women in front of them step onto the torch-lit path leading to the house. Rhea’s head was bent slightly, and her aunt had wrapped her arm around her niece’s waist. It was a clear sign Rhea was feeling unwell. Guilt nudged at Percy. He was certain the inquisition he’d subjected her to was the cause of her distress. It couldn’t have been easy for her to be interrogated the way he’d questioned her.
“It would appear you find Miss Bennett quite interesting.” The man’s quiet observation made Percy glance at the viscount who was studying him with a narrowed gaze. Puzzled by the sternness on the man’s distinguished features, Percy tipped his head slightly.
“I’ll not deny that she intrigues me.”
“Intrigue where a woman is concerned can be a dangerous path, Rockwood,” the viscount said in a voice that made Percy think the man was issuing a warning. Puzzled he frowned as he saw a calculating gleam in Foxworth’s eyes.
“I think any path where Rhea is concerned could be treacherous in more ways than one.”
“All the same, I urge you to tread lightly. While I’ve only been back in England for a few months, I’ve heard you have a particular reputation for breaking hearts,” Foxworth said quietly. This time Percy was certain the man was issuing a warning to take care with Rhea’s feelings.
“My intent
ions are quite honorable where Rhea is concerned,” Percy said in a stilted voice.
It irritated him that Foxworth was cautioning him to take care where Rhea’s feelings were concerned. He’d been more than considerate of her emotions tonight. A voice in the back of his head immediately decried that conviction. He shoved the thought into a dark corner of his mind. If anything, he was Rhea’s best chance at redemption.
She might not realize it yet, but he knew he could help her break free of the hold Ruckley had over her. Rhea might think that being out of Ruckley’s reach meant freedom, but it wasn’t. That kind of freedom would only be achieved when she no longer feared Ruckley, which meant one of two things had to happen, either the man ended up incarcerated or dead. Somehow he didn’t think either option would undo the harm the bastard had done. Beside him, Foxworth cleared his throat.
“Forgive me for speaking so bluntly, Rockwood. I have feelings for Beatrice. Therefore, I am protective of her and anyone she cares about even if Beatrice hasn’t granted me that right as of yet.”
“I understand completely,” Percy nodded in acceptance of the Viscount’s apology.
It was clear that the man was determined to make Beatrice Fremont his, but also obvious that the woman would not accept his suit willingly. Whatever the past history between the two, Foxworth seemed determined not to let it stand in the way of obtaining the woman’s surrender. As they reached the top of the steps to the terrace, Percy quickly strode forward to stop Rhea from entering the ballroom. As he caught her elbow, she turned her head toward him. Self-reproach tightened his muscles. She was clearly unwell, and he knew his interrogation was responsible. Fear was a draining emotion, and he’d dredged up her past in all its ugly glory.
“Why don’t you say your goodbyes here. I can take you through my brother’s study to the front hall. It will save you from the noise and heat of the ballroom.” At his offer, relief swept across Rhea’s pale features, and she nodded.
“Thank you.”
When Rhea and her aunt had kissed each other’s cheek in farewell, Foxworth bid Rhea good night as well. The man’s remark as to a horse he was loaning her made Percy tuck the odd fact away in his brain. A few short moments later, he guided Rhea through Sebastian’s study and into the main entryway. Here the music was still loud, but not as clamorous as in the ballroom. Percy ordered Rhea’s carriage brought to the front of the house then turned to face her. Wan and forlorn-looking, she sank down onto one of the Queen Anne chairs situated against the entryway’s wall. Frowning, he moved to her side.
“Are you feeling faint again?”
“I’m fine,” she said with just a hint of annoyance. “I don’t faint.”
“Perhaps,” he acknowledged with a bob of his head. “But you came close to doing so earlier.”
Rhea’s only response was a sniff of exasperation. The wait for her carriage was a short one. When the footman informed them her vehicle was ready, Percy escorted Rhea out the front door to the vehicle. As he opened the carriage door, her hand lightly touched his arm.
“Is it really your intention to find Ruckley?” There was a small note of panic running beneath the quietly spoken question.
“Can you blame me?” Percy said with suppressed anger at Ruckley’s callous, cowardly act. “The man shot me in the back. That’s not something I’m willing to walk away from.”
“I understand your desire for justice, but you’ll not find it. Not where Ruckley is concerned.” There was a conviction in her voice that infuriated him. He wasn’t about to let Ruckley escape responsibility for any of his crimes, and he found it damned frustrating that Rhea was unwilling to bring the man to justice.
“I don’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on protecting a man who clearly forced you to do things against your will.”
“I am not protecting Ruckley.” Her sharp reply held the sting of a whip cracking through the air between them. “I’m trying to save lives.”
“Elaborate.” His demand made her features become devoid of emotion.
“I don’t deny the terrible crime Ruckley inflicted on you, but you were one of the lucky ones. He’s done far worse than you could possibly imagine to others,” she said fiercely as a look of horror flickered in her gaze. “There are lives at stake. Lives that are precious to me, and I’ll not help you if it means jeopardizing their safety.”
With a sharp gesture Rhea silently asked for his assistance to enter the carriage. The moment her hand slid into his, an intense need to keep her with him crashed through him. There was a possessiveness to the sensation that startled him. He’d experienced the desire to keep Nellie safe from harm, but that emotion paled in comparison to what he felt where Rhea was concerned. It was primal and territorial at the basest of levels. The knowledge made him uneasy.
Percy caught a glimpse of a decidedly feminine ankle and calf as Rhea entered the carriage. A knot formed in his throat until he was forced to roll his head slightly to alleviate the pressure his collar was applying to it. Every inch of him was taut with tension, and he suddenly realized his fingers were wrapped tightly around the side of the carriage door. Vaguely, he noted his knuckles were white before he met Rhea’s violet gaze.
Her icy expression had softened to one of resignation. As they stared at each other, color rose in her cheeks. Once more the need to pull her from the carriage and keep her with him barreled through him like a wild bull. Rhea leaned forward slightly to touch his hand that still gripped the vehicle’s door frame.
“Finding Ruckley isn’t the problem, Percy. It’s what will happen when you do,” she said softly. There was a look of concern on her face that said she wasn’t simply worried about others. She was apprehensive for his safety as well. “Ruckley is not to be underestimated. He won’t hesitate to shoot you a second time, and this time he will kill you.”
“Your concern for my safety is appreciated, but unwarranted,” he said as he heard the fear in her voice. It pleased him that she was worried about him.
Percy released his grip on the carriage door to capture her hand in his. With his gaze locked with hers, Percy carried her hand to his mouth. He caressed her fingertips with his lips before he slowly turned her hand over. As his thumb brushed over her skin then pressed down to feel her pulse, Rhea inhaled a sharp breath.
The sound stirred the devil in him as he proceeded to kiss the inside of her wrist. A tremor reverberated out of her and into his hand. He looked up at her to see an expression on her face that said she’d enjoyed the caress. The moment her gaze locked with his, she tugged against his grasp, and he released her with great reluctance.
“I shall remind you of your concern for my welfare the next time we meet.” Percy stepped back and closed the door of the carriage.
“There will not be a next time, Mr. Rockwood,” she snapped.
“Oh, you can count on it, Miss Bennett,” he said mockingly before he ordered the driver to move along. The carriage rocked forward, and he saw a look of dismay on Rhea’s face as the vehicle disappeared into the dark. Rhea Bennett would be seeing a great deal more of him than she realized. The cheerful thought made him grin as he returned to the house. He was looking forward to paying a call at Green Hill House tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Rhea pressed her fingertips against her temples as the hackney cab rolled toward Arianna’s London townhouse. The headache she’d developed last night after her confrontation with Percy still throbbed, although lack of breakfast was no doubt contributing to the pain. Rhea knew Aunt Beatrice would find her early departure odd, simply because Rhea had not planned to leave for London for another three days.
At least her aunt knew her primary reason for traveling to London was to meet with Ashford. The private detective had made arrangements for Peter’s escape from Ruckley’s street gang, and she insisted on shepherding her charges back to the country. They’d been taught to trust no one. They would be skittish enough with Ashford if she wasn’t there to reassure them.
She coul
d only hope the note she’d left for her aunt would make the older woman believe she’d wanted to visit with Arianna for a couple of days. But if Percy Rockwood held true to his word appeared at their front door, her aunt was certain to believe otherwise.
Instinctively, she knew the man had no intention of leaving the issues between them unresolved, which meant he would call at Green Hill House. The last thing she wanted was to be there when he paid a visit. She needed time to collect her wits.
Last night he’d been an unstoppable force that had buffeted her senses on every front. He’d been a mixture of anger, kindness, and seduction. It had been easy to shield herself from his anger. Seven years of bearing the brunt of Ruckley’s foul temper had taught her to remain silent until the storm had passed.
She’d even managed to block herself off from Percy’s kindness, although that had been far more difficult. What had been the most alarming of all was her reaction to the man. Ruckley had sold her body many times, but Rhea had never allowed the men who bought her to kiss her. It had allowed her to distance herself from the horror of being used for a man’s pleasure. The handful of men who objected, had found a knee pressed threateningly between their legs or her fingers pressed into their jugular. Their protests had died quickly.
But last night Percy had broken through that barrier. When he’d kissed her, she’d experienced no repugnance. For those few moments in the Melton Park gazebo, she’d believed herself capable of giving herself to a man without hesitation—freely offering herself in a mutual exchange of pleasure. The realization had haunted her through the night. She’d slept fitfully with Percy intruding her dreams in such a way that it frightened her.
This morning, the memory of that seductive kiss to her wrist when they’d said goodbye had only reinforced her need to flee. While Percy frightened her for what he knew about her, it was the feelings he aroused in her that were even more terrifying. She liked the way his touch warmed her. Something about his strength made her feel safe, and that made him dangerous. She couldn’t afford to believe someone else could keep her safe. Not even Percy Rockwood.
