Harlequin Historical May 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Sarah Mallory

  He lowered his gaze to her mouth, watching as she ran the tip of her tongue over her moist, parted lips. Lust hit him with such unexpected force that he could not move. He tried to say something, anything, but he made the mistake of looking down. She was wearing nothing but her flimsy nightdress beneath her open robe, her body visible beneath the fine fabric. She seemed blissfully unaware of the view he had of her, the delicate curve of her breasts, the slenderness of her waist and the gentle swell of her hips.

  He tore his gaze away from her body and looked at her face as he strove to regain control. Normally he would deny himself nothing he could take without hurting others, but that was not the case with Lucy. A stolen kiss was harmless, but he was not fool enough to interfere with the innocent and inexperienced body of a girl he had befriended and protected from the moment she had turned to him for help.

  ‘You little fool,’ Christopher said furiously, seeking refuge in anger to quell his burgeoning thoughts. ‘Suppose someone other than me had opened the door—what do you think would happen?’

  ‘I don’t know. I never thought...’ she answered, trying to brazen it out. ‘I suppose they would ask me to leave.’

  Christopher’s eyes dropped once more to her semi-clad body, following the line of her throat down to her tantalising swell of flesh exposed to his view above her chemise, emphasising the undeniable fact that she was an alluring young woman and not the child he had tried to convince himself she was.

  ‘I doubt very much they would do that.’ Shrugging himself away from the door, he moved to stand in front of her. ‘I will show you what would happen,’ he snapped, pulling her toward him none too gently. ‘But first I’d like to know how brandy tastes on your lips. Would you like me to kiss you, Lucy? You did not seem to mind earlier,’ he breathed, pushing the hair back from her face.

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘I—I would like you to.’

  He bent his head, yet to Lucy’s surprise he didn’t kiss her right away. His mouth hovered just above hers, heating her lips, caressing them with his breath and the heady fumes of brandy. His gaze dropped to her breasts straining beneath her nightdress, scrutinising them intently as he slowly curved his fingers around the tender flesh swelling out of the bodice. He felt her entire body tense. The tips of her breasts hardened under his warm fingers and, as much as he wanted to continue touching her there, he moved his hands away and drew her into his arms, his lips finding hers, parting them in a deep, languorous kiss.

  ‘You’re very lovely, Lucy,’ he murmured as his hands boldly caressed her back, one settling in her nape to press her head close to his, capturing her lips once more, his mouth hard, his tongue plundering the softness of her mouth. As if sensing something was wrong, Lucy squirmed against him, trying to drag her mouth away from his and break free. Her struggle only seemed to make his arms tighten about her and he deepened the kiss, his lips moving on hers with hungry ardour, insistently shaping her lips to his own. At last he released her and thrust her away. She staggered back.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked, her eyes wide and bewildered. ‘I suppose it was my fault for coming to your room.’

  ‘When a woman comes to a man’s bedroom at this time of night, scantily clad, it can mean only one thing. You should not be here.’

  ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But...’

  ‘Don’t say anything else, Lucy.’ His voice was soft, but the stern note of authority underlying it brought the silence he had requested. His eyes continued to study her and when he spoke again his voice was gentler. ‘It was a mistake for you to come here, I grant you. This one was mine. Next time you decide to visit a gentleman in his rooms, you must consider the consequences. Consider yourself fortunate that I am not in the habit of seducing naive innocents.’

  Lucy stood unmoving. Christopher’s silver eyes were narrowed on her body, reflecting the glint of the candlelight. ‘I—I don’t know what to do,’ she said in a small voice, feeling undressed, naked, even, though she was partially clad.

  ‘Don’t you? Then let me tell you,’ he said, taking the hanging ties of her robe and drawing it tightly about her delectably body and concealing those delicious breasts from his line of vision. His desire for her was hard driven, but he couldn’t overstep the mark. ‘You will return to your room and we will forget this ever happened. Do you understand, Lucy?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’ She clung on to her dignity as she backed away, her hair spilling over her shoulders. ‘You are right. I shouldn’t have come, I know that now,’ she whispered, her voice shaking with her emotions as she tried to maintain her self-control. ‘Please don’t be angry.’

  Her straightforward, ungrudging apology caught Christopher completely off guard. ‘I’m not. However, I am truly sorry if I scared you just now. Despite how it might have felt, it was never my intention to hurt you.’

  ‘You didn’t, but don’t ever kiss me like that again.’

  Turning from him, she went to the door. Christopher followed, halting her by catching hold of her arm and speaking close to her ear from behind. ‘Of course you must leave, but before you do, Lucy, I will give you a warning. Just one,’ he enunciated harshly. ‘Call it advice, if you prefer. I don’t normally receive guests in my bedroom—and should it become known, then your reputation will be beyond salvaging. Remember that.’

  ‘You seem to have forgotten that I’ve been in your bedroom once before—not too long ago—when I ran to you for help and you took me there yourself.’

  ‘That’s true, but the circumstances were entirely different.’

  ‘Then why did you kiss me? Was it a desire to humiliate me for having the audacity to come to your room? If so, I will never forgive you for that. Please don’t touch me again.’

  Her words scorched Christopher’s soul with its fierce, despairing passion. ‘You won’t fight me, Lucy. I know you. I know how you feel.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ she cried, her cheeks and eyes blazing, her fists tightly clenched as she struggled to contain her rioting emotions. ‘No one knows how or what I feel. No one.’

  * * *

  Trying desperately to control her raging emotions, in helpless misery Lucy opened the door and slipped out, closing it quietly behind her while wondering what on earth had possessed her to come to his room in the first place. Now she could only feel the pain and humiliation of what she took to be a form of rejection. The tight tension of regret was beginning to form in her chest that she had dared to come here. This wasn’t what she had wanted when she had sought him out. This wasn’t the same man who had kissed her before with so much tender passion that she had wanted him to go on kissing her for ever.

  The pleasure they had taken in each other suddenly seemed fragile, like thin ice, too easily shattered. Why must happiness always carry with it the burden of doubt—that it cannot last? Despite her foolishness in going to his bedchamber and their bitter altercation, she wanted him to hold her, to seek his comfort and reassurance, but already, insidiously, she had started to feel within herself the beginnings of anxiety and apprehension, and a kind of sadness. Her godmother would be here soon. Where before it had seemed to be of no consequence, now it appeared she had not enough time left at Rockwood Park.

  * * *

  Christopher’s room felt surprisingly empty now Lucy had gone. When she had opened the door, helplessly he had stretched out his hand to stay her, but she had gone. He longed to go after her, to take her in his arms and slide his knuckles over her soft, silken cheek, but it was too late. Lifting the glass holding the remains of the brandy, he drank it in one swallow to dull the ache inside him, filling it up when it was empty. Combing his fingers through his hair, he threw himself into a chair, disgusted with himself and contrite.

  Angrily he attacked his sentimental thoughts until they cowered in meek submission, but they refused to die down. His attraction to Lucy was disquieting—in fact,
it was damned annoying. If he wanted an affair or diversion of any kind, he had a string of some of the most beautiful women in London to choose from—so why should he feel this insanely wild attraction for an eighteen-year-old girl who had hardly left the schoolroom?

  He tried to put her from his mind, but failed miserably in the effort. The sweet fragrance of her perfume lingered everywhere, drifting through his senses, and the throbbing hunger began anew. He cursed with silent frustration, seized by a strong desire to go after her and cauterise his need by holding her close and clamping his lips on hers. But common sense told him that now was not the time for either of them to even contemplate forming any kind of union.

  Hard logic and cold reason had always conquered his lust—with Lucy it was different. She was too much of a disruption. He had to purge her out of his mind before he was completely beaten—and if she were to remain living close to him then he would lose the battle. He was in danger of losing his heart to her and he would not permit that. The stakes were too high.

  * * *

  The solution to his dilemma produced itself in the form of Lady Caroline Sutton. Lucy had been at Rockwood Park two weeks when she arrived mid-morning.

  A tall attractive woman with light brown hair and bright blue eyes, not only was Lady Caroline Sutton highly respected among society, but her late husband had been a skilled politician who could claim the friendship of some of the most powerful men at home and abroad.

  His grandfather had taken Lucy on yet another guided tour of the estate in his carriage so Christopher had the pleasure of receiving her alone.

  ‘I have been in Milan. When I returned to Paris I found Lucy’s letter waiting for me. I cannot tell you how alarmed I was when I read the contents and I came as soon as I could. There was also another letter—from America.’

  Christopher looked at her sharply. ‘Her father?’

  ‘It was from her father’s lawyer. As Lucy’s guardian he wrote to me to break the news of her father’s death—these three months past.’

  ‘Lucy already knows. Sofia told her prior to her coming down here.’

  Lady Sutton was surprised. ‘Oh, I see. Lucy mentioned in her letter that Sofia was in London. She must have set sail as soon as her husband died.’

  ‘I imagine she did—along with a companion by the name of Mark Barrington. I’m afraid the pair schemed to get their hands on Lucy’s inheritance. Barrington’s closeness to Sofia Walsh and her husband’s death was an unexpected windfall that they were both swift to use to their advantage. Lucy was devastated when Sofia told her about her father.’

  ‘I imagine she would be. She has only seen him once since he sent her to England for her education. They were very close. He came three years ago. That was the last time she saw him. I must thank you for taking care of her. London is a dangerous place for an innocent.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, which is why I took the liberty of bringing her down here.’

  ‘Before Lucy comes back from her walk, I would like you to tell me exactly what happened and just how it will affect her future. How badly has she been compromised?’

  With the minimum of fuss Christopher explained all that had occurred since the day he had met Lucy. He also told her about Barrington’s connection to his own family. Lady Sutton listened in silence.

  ‘That is a terrible story. I am so very sorry that your sister was driven to do what she did. So in different ways both you and Lucy have been touched by the evils of Mr Barrington.’

  ‘Yes. He makes his living out of dishonesty and deceiving people. With Barrington still out there it will be sensible to take her away. I believe he still poses a danger.’

  ‘You think he might try to contact her or—heaven forbid!—that he might try to kidnap her?’

  ‘Believe me, Lady Sutton, that man is capable of anything—but I believe he will move on to some other unsuspecting rich young woman to try to get his hands on her cash.’

  ‘Whatever his intentions, I will not let her out of my sight. Since Lucy came into her inheritance she has become a very wealthy young woman—and a desirable one, but I fear it will be for the wrong reasons. You say she has been compromised by her association with Mr Barrington. How dare he announce their engagement to all and sundry at the ball. How dare he do that to Lucy.’

  ‘My sentiments exactly. Where I am concerned, the last thing I wanted to do was compromise her in any way. I find it hard to understand why so much ill feeling was directed at Lucy instead of Barrington after he was ruined at the card tables.’

  ‘Which was down to you.’ She sighed. ‘It is a terrible situation. We will leave for France as soon as it can be arranged—quietly and with no one any the wiser.’

  ‘If it will help, I will put the word out that she has left for Louisiana.’

  ‘Yes, I think that would be for the best. I do not want her to be worried by all of this. She will be in mourning for her father for a while yet, so some time out of the public eye will be sensible, but eventually I want her to enjoy herself as a young woman should. The mere thought of people pointing fingers at her, gossip that will follow her around for ever, horrifies me. It was not what her father wanted when he asked me to take care of her. And it must be put out that she rejected Mr Barrington—not the other way round. I will not have it said that she was jilted by that—that blackguard. She has already endured the shame of being betrothed to him and assaulted by him. I will not have her being a source of scandal among the elite.’

  ‘I agree,’ Christopher replied, becoming thoughtful, not for the first time thinking that, in his determination to protect her, he had actually managed to do her harm. ‘We will both do what we can to rectify any damage done to her reputation.’

  ‘You have been very kind to Lucy, Lord Rockley. Without your protection I dread to think what might have happened to her. I regret that she has been exposed to society already and it is unfortunate that she has already been compromised by association with Mr Barrington—and residing for a short time in your house, but don’t worry. I’m not going to insist that you do the honourable thing and marry her. She is still young and I want her to experience everything a young woman of her age should before she settles down. But what about Mr Barrington? If you have reason to fear for Lucy, you must think he’s still in London.’

  ‘I have people looking out for him. They will keep me informed. When he is located I will have him kept under surveillance.’

  ‘And if he’s fled back to America?’

  ‘I’ve put word out among the captains of vessels in the pool. They will inform me if anyone tries to buy a passage who resembles him. I have spent years commanding my own vessel, Lady Sutton, not as a gentleman of leisure. I possess an awareness that is only found among men forced to live by their wits and their cunning.’

  ‘I am so sorry—and I am deeply sorry for what happened to your sister. I hope I can be introduced before I leave.’

  ‘I will make a point of it. Amelia has warmed to Lucy’s presence and is more relaxed and approachable than she was when she first came here. However, she still has some way to go before she is back to what she was before.’

  ‘That man has much to answer for. But it only confirms my fears concerning Lucy’s future. She is a lovely young woman and, because of the way she looks and the large fortune she has inherited, she is vulnerable to fortune hunters. I promised her father when he was last here that if he should die, then I would see her introduced into English society and see her suitably wed. Lucy is like a daughter to me—the child I never had. Her mother and I were close. I spent some time in Louisiana when I was growing up—that was how we came to meet. When I met my husband I came to England. I am impatient to see Lucy.’

  * * *

  Ever since the night Lucy had sought Christopher out in his room there was tension between them that she had tried to pretend didn’t exist. His handsome face held a f
orbidding look that kept her at a distance. She was determined that he should not see how she agonised inside herself and took refuge behind cool politeness, her mask of reserve slipping only when he smiled, only to be put back in place when she saw the smile was not for her. He was deliberately reminding her that the time was fast approaching when she would have to leave Rockwood Park.

  When she arrived back at the house she was delighted to be told that Aunt Caroline had arrived. Lucy was to her godmother the child she had never had. It worked well. Lucy loved her dearly and there was no doubt whatever that Aunt Caroline loved her. It was to her loving arms that she went in moments of crisis, the arms she had longed for when Sofia and Mr Barrington had arrived to take her away from the academy.

  When she entered the drawing room, Lady Sutton rose to her feet in one sinuous movement to glide across the carpet with her arms outstretched.

  ‘Lucy, my dear, at last.’ She embraced her goddaughter in a cloud of expensive perfume. ‘Why, just look at you,’ she said, holding her at arm’s length, gazing at her fondly. ‘No longer the schoolgirl, but a fashionable young lady. Now come and sit beside me and tell me what you have been doing. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,’ she said, drawing Lucy down on the sofa beside her. ‘When Lord Rockley told me of all you have suffered at your stepmother’s hands—and that truly awful Mr Barrington—I was horrified. I never met either of them, but I can imagine how they used your dear father’s death to draw you into their web of deceit. I want you to know that if I had been home I would not have allowed it.’

  ‘You weren’t to know, Aunt Caroline.’

  ‘But I should have. You were on the point of leaving the academy and I should have been here, but I had no idea you would leave so soon. It was arranged that you remain at the academy until I retuned or sent someone to chaperon you to Paris.’