Her Dark and Dangerous Lord

by Anne Herries

  Anne’s laughter rang out, drawing Stefan’s attention. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself and found her neighbours good company. She looked very beautiful, completely at home and happy. Their eyes met and she smiled at him in a way that made his throat catch and set up a burning desire to hold her in his arms.

  As the evening wore on, Stefan increasingly realised that he had been neglectful. For Anne’s sake he must either make more effort to find her family or he must wed her. It would be wrong to let her stay here and drift into the position of being his mistress simply because she had nowhere else to go. The musicians had begun to play and the guests called for the dancing to begin. Stefan walked to where Anne was standing with her friend, Maria, and made his bow. He held his hand out to her.

  ‘Come, Anne, as my hostess, you should lead the dancing with me.’

  Anne took his hand. Her heart leaped as she allowed him to lead her into the centre of the floor. For a moment she worried that she would not know how, but then as Stefan bowed to her and lifted her hand with his, she found that her body understood. Dancing was natural to her, and she followed him instinctively, knowing that this was a pleasure she had always enjoyed. And yet there was something special about this dance with this man, something she knew instinctively she had never felt before this evening.

  When their dance was over, Stefan took her back to where Maria and the Chevalier Renard were standing. He bowed to Maria and led her on to the floor, and the Chevalier asked Anne to partner him.

  Anne enjoyed her dance with him, but it was not quite the same, and she could not help her gaze straying to Stefan and the young woman who was clearly enjoying her dance with the master of the chateau.

  Smothering her slight pangs of jealousy, she danced with other guests. Stefan danced with all the ladies, but he did not ask any of them more than once.

  Anne woke early the next morning. The night had been warm and she felt sticky, her body damp with sweat. Pulling on a loose wrapping gown, she went down the stairs, through the house and out into the garden. It was so early, the sun hardly risen, and she was sure that no one would be about. The servants had worked hard for days to get the house ready for guests, and would take their time about beginning the new day. If she was quick, she might have time to bathe in the pool.

  No one was about as she made her way through the garden. Slipping off her robe, Anne walked down the steps to the shallow water and dipped down below the surface. The water felt so cool against her skin. She had kept her night chemise on, but in a spirit of recklessness she pulled it off and began splashing about in the pool. Anne could not swim—she had never been taught—and she thought that perhaps swimming in the river would have been a forbidden pleasure for young women. However, the pool was shallow and she was able to walk on the bottom and splash in the water to her heart’s content.

  It was only as she turned to leave that she became aware that someone was there. She instinctively covered her breasts with her arms as Stefan bent down to pick up her wrapping gown and hold it out for her.

  ‘Come out, Anne. I wish to talk with you.’

  ‘Put the gown down and turn your back.’

  ‘Do you not think it a little late for that?’ he asked, a gleam of what she thought was amusement in his eyes. ‘I did not come here to spy on you, but the night was hot and I thought to cool myself—as you clearly did too.’

  ‘I am not coming out until you turn your back.’

  Stefan laughed, laying the wrapping gown on a stone bench by the pool and turning his back. Anne rushed up the steps and slipped it on, tying the sash at the front.

  ‘Very well, you may turn now,’ she said. The gown immediately became wet and clung to her breasts and wherever else it touched, making her aware that it revealed more than it hid. ‘I thought it was your habit to bathe here at night and that everyone would sleep late after the feasting.’

  ‘Most are still sleeping,’ Stefan said, letting his eyes travel over her as he turned. Her hair was wet as it hung down her back, for she had immersed herself completely in the water as she played. ‘I come here whenever I am not able to rest. The water helps me to relax.’

  ‘Are you disturbed about something?’ Anne asked, her eyes wide and innocent as she gazed at him. ‘Were you not pleased last evening? I think our guests enjoyed the feast.’

  ‘I am sure they did, but they are all wondering about you, Anne. I am not sure that some of them believe you are my cousin. The speculation will multiply unless we do something about it now.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She caught her breath, her heart beating wildly. ‘Are you going to send me away?’

  ‘Would you prefer to leave? I could send you to the nuns. If I gave you a dowry, they would take you in.’

  ‘No! No, please do not send me away,’ Anne said desperately. ‘Have I done something to make you angry?’

  ‘No,’ he said, his voice soft and caressing. ‘Nothing but keep me restless in my bed each night. You haunt my thoughts, Anne…’ He moved towards her, reaching out to catch her and draw her close. His eyes seemed to burn with a dark flame and then he bent his head and kissed her. It was not the gentle kiss he had given her before, but a hungry, passionate kiss that seemed to draw her soul. She felt the heat and the hardness of his arousal pressing against her body; the thin material of her wrapping gown was no protection as his hands found and cupped her buttocks, clasping her to him as the kiss went on endlessly. When he let her go at last, she felt her senses swim and gasped. ‘I cannot go on this way. I have tried to ignore my feelings, because you deserve more than I can give, Anne. I am not a gentle or a good man and I am not sure I know how to love—but I want you in my arms, in my bed.’

  ‘What are you asking me?’ Anne said, her lips parting softly on a sigh of relief. He was not angry with her. He did not mean to send her away from him. ‘If it is to be your mistress—’

  Stefan put his fingers to her lips. ‘I shall not so insult you,’ he said. ‘I do not know your name or where you came from, but I do know that you are a lady. I cannot offer less than marriage, and it must be soon, otherwise your reputation will be lost. I had thought to wait, because I had not planned to wed. You must know that in the past I have found women to be deceitful and unworthy of trust, but I think you honest, Anne. I am not worthy to be your husband, but I shall do my best to make you happy—if you will wed me?’

  ‘Oh…yes,’ Anne breathed. She would have agreed to anything rather than be sent away to a nunnery where she would never see him again. Thoughts of home and family were far away. She knew that she would regret her lost identity sometimes, but her feelings were too strong to be denied. ‘Yes, I shall marry you…but when shall it be?’

  ‘If I pleased only myself, I would summon the priest and have him wed us today,’ Stefan told her. His fingers trailed her cheek, down her throat to the open V of her wrapping gown. He went further, his hand moving beneath her gown, caressing her breast, feeling the nipple harden beneath his touch. ‘I want you now, this instant, but you shall be my wife before I take what I desire. We shall invite the guests we entertained last night, and the banns shall be called in the village church so that all shall know it is my intention to wed you. Even those that have wondered if you were my mistress will not be able to slander your name—and our first child will not be born too soon and give them the satisfaction of thinking they were right.’

  ‘But how shall we marry when I do not know my own name?’

  ‘I have given you my own,’ Stefan said. ‘You are Anne de Montfort and you shall be Lady de Montfort as soon as I can arrange it—if you truly wish it?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, happiness spreading through her. Perhaps he did not love her as she loved him, but he cared for her, he wanted her. At that moment all that mattered to Anne was that he would keep her with him for always. She would be his wife, live in his home and bear his children. She could ask for nothing more— except to know the name of her family. Even if she knew it, knew w
here to find them, Anne was certain she would never want to leave this man. ‘Yes, please, Stefan.’

  He smiled oddly. ‘I am hoping that the feud between Lord Cowper and myself can be settled soon, Anne. If he will agree to return to England and give up this fight, I shall try to forget that he and his cousin murdered my brother and father.’

  ‘You will give it up?’ Anne asked, looking at him uncertainly. ‘But you swore that either he or you would lie in the grave before the year was out.’

  ‘Could I come to you with blood on my hands?’ Stefan asked. ‘I have killed in battle and innocents have sometimes died, but not by my hand. I did my best to save those I could. I do not count myself innocent of their deaths, but I am not a murderer. If I kill Cowper in revenge, I shall have his blood on my soul—and I could not come to you, Anne. I could not soil you with the knowledge that I had done murder. So I shall meet with him and give him the chance to make a truce. He may keep the lands he stole from me, for I have all I could want here.’

  ‘Oh, Stefan,’ Anne cried and pressed herself against him. ‘I love you so…’ The fire rushed to her cheeks, but she would not let herself feel shame. Her confession was instinctive and could not be denied. ‘You may not love me yet, but I pray that you will one day, for I love you.’ She was so innocent, so sweet that it tore at his heart, yet he did not say the words he knew she longed to hear. He wanted her, desired her so fiercely that his body burned for hers, but love made men weak. He did not want to love her in the way she wished.

  Stefan bent his head and kissed her once more. ‘Go in and dress before the household rouses. If you were seen with me here, some would think the worst. I have been careless of your reputation, Anne, and I must be more circumspect in future. We shall be wed as soon as I can arrange it.’

  Anne impulsively kissed him once more and then left his arms, running towards the house. When she reached the door she turned and waved to him before disappearing inside.

  Stefan stood staring after her. He had lain all night torn between wedding her and sending her away so that she should not lose her good name. Seeing her in the pool had broken his resolution. He could not let her go therefore he must take her to wife—and that meant he must try to make peace with Lord Cowper if he could.

  It would not be easy, for his hatred was still fierce. Yet he must kill the man or make peace with him, and for Anne’s sake he would forgo his revenge. He began to walk back to the house. He would summon the priest and make the arrangements for his wedding.

  Watching from the shrubbery, Fritz pondered over what he had seen. He had not dared to get close enough to hear what they were saying, though he had found a breach in the thick thorn hedge that formed a part of the boundary where the wall had been allowed to fall into neglect. Normally, a guard patrolled the walls, but for some reason this morning he was missing from his post.

  Fritz was certain now that Lord de Montfort would pay anything for the return of his mistress, for his mistress she must be from what he had seen of their kisses. She must have come to bathe at the pool, but he had not been in time to see her, only the embrace they shared. Now that he had discovered how to enter the grounds of the chateau, it would be an easy matter for a few of his hand-picked comrades to come at night and snatch her when everyone was sleeping.

  He had thought to seize her when she was out riding with her friends, but his new plan was even better. He would lie in wait in the early morning and when she came to bathe he would capture her. He smiled as he crept back the way he had come. There might be a guard the next time, but one man was easily disposed of and there would be at least six of them. He had tested them out and they were all willing to betray Cowper in the hope of getting their hands on Stefan de Montfort’s gold.

  Once he had the gold he could return to England, take his sister and parents and go far away. They would go somewhere that Cowper would never find them. He knew that the lord was his master and perhaps his father, but he hated him with a fierce passion. If he thought he had the chance he would kill him, but Cowper was too well protected. Revenge for all the slights Fritz had suffered could be won in quite another way.

  Chapter Five

  ‘The banns will be called this Sunday for the second time,’ Stefan said as they walked together in the gardens some days later. ‘It will not be long to our wedding day, Anne. Are you still content that it should be so?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, gazing up at him, her eyes reflecting her inner beauty. ‘I shall be happy to be your wife and live here with you, Stefan.’

  ‘And you will not regret all that you have lost?’

  ‘I should like to know who my family are and to let them know I am well,’ Anne told him, and there was a wistful look in her eyes. ‘But even if I knew where they were to be found, I should still wish to be your wife.’

  ‘Then I am content,’ Stefan told her. He reached out and touched her cheek, smiling in the way that set her heart racing. ‘But if ever you should remember and wish to change things, I would set you free from your promise, Anne.’

  ‘No, no, I wish to be your wife, your lady,’ Anne told him.

  ‘You know that many think of me as a mercenary?’

  ‘I know what you have been and what you have done,’ Anne said. ‘It makes no difference to the way I feel.’

  ‘I have had a message from Lord Cowper,’ Stefan told her. ‘He will come to the meeting tomorrow and we shall talk. I hope that the quarrel between us may be settled, for I wish to have peace at last.’

  ‘I pray it may be so,’ Anne said and smiled. He bent his head and kissed her softly.

  ‘Go in now, Anne,’ Stefan said. ‘I have things I must do and I dare say you have work enough.’

  ‘Yes, I have,’ Anne agreed. ‘I shall see you this evening, my lord.’

  ‘St Orleans, I was told you were in England,’ the Comte De Vere said as the gentlemen were shown into his sumptuous salon that evening. Two whole weeks had passed since the evening he had spent as a guest of Lord de Montfort and something was hovering at the back of his mind. ‘I understand Claire is to be married?’

  ‘That is true and she is indeed with Lady Melford. Lord Melford and I have made the journey here to discover what we can about the disappearance of his daughter.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ De Vere said. ‘Mistress Anne Melford. Sir Harry was here a few days ago. I do not wish to raise your hopes only to see them dashed again, but I was on the point of writing to you, Melford. I could not help Sir Harry then, but something has happened since then.’

  ‘You have news of my daughter?’

  ‘I am not certain,’ De Vere told him. ‘I have seen a lady I think might be her. I was not sure enough to say anything at the time, but it was in my mind to send a message. Now that you are here, the matter may soon be resolved.’ De Vere smiled inwardly. If the girl was Melford’s daughter, he might be angry enough to do what Cowper and his idiots had so far failed to achieve. De Vere would then lay claim to the chateau and lands that de Montfort had bought from King Louis of France, and which he had long coveted.

  ‘Where is this lady?’ Rob asked. ‘And where would I find her? Her mother is beside herself with worry and I have promised to do whatever I can to find her. I did not think there was much hope, but now—’ He stopped as De Vere shook his head. ‘Please tell me as much as you can, sir. I shall not hold you responsible if it comes to naught.’

  ‘She is calling herself Anne de Montfort. I met her two weeks ago at the Chateau de Montifiori, where she is the guest of the man she says is her cousin… I am not sure why I feel there is some mystery about her, and I am not sure what she is to de Montfort—but there was a slight resemblance to the man who came inquiring for his sister. She does not have the same colouring as Sir Harry, but there is something about the eyes and mouth.’

  ‘Anne…my God! What has this man done to her?’ Rob said and his expression was murderous. ‘When I heard that she might have been rescued I praised the Lord for His mercy, bu
t if she has been forced into a life of shame as de Montfort’s mistress—’ He broke off, for he could not contemplate something that horrified him so much.

  ‘I am not sure that she is his mistress. There are whispers of it, but she seems an innocent to me. I believe she may have some feeling for Lord de Montfort, but I do not know if he returns it or even if she is the lady you seek.’ De Vere smiled inwardly as he saw the anger in Melford’s face. He had said enough to ignite the fires, but he would not interfere further. Until de Montfort was dead he must live in peace with his neighbour, unless he wished to storm the chateau and take it by force, which might bring King Louis’ wrath down on his head.

  ‘Where does he live—this Lord de Montfort?’ The pulse throbbed at Rob’s temple. ‘If he shamed my daughter, he will answer to me.’

  ‘He is some ten leagues or more from here,’ De Vere answered. ‘But there is no point in going there at this hour. The house will be locked and the guards will not take kindly to anyone who approaches under cover of darkness. Stefan de Montfort has lived as a mercenary for some years. There was some tale of his being attacked on his return from Cherbourg some weeks back. I understand that there was some bloody fighting. It would be wiser to go in the morning. I will accompany you there and we shall conduct this in a gentlemanly way.’

  ‘If he has seduced my daughter—’ Rob began angrily, but the Comte St Orleans touched his arm.

  ‘I know this is painful for you, Melford, but you must think of Anne,’ St Orleans said. ‘If she has indeed become his mistress, it might be better if a marriage could be arranged discreetly.’

  ‘I would see him dead first!’

  ‘As any father would,’ De Vere agreed smoothly. ‘But her affections may be engaged. Besides, we do not know that any force was applied—or even if the rumours are true. It may be that she has been merely an honoured guest in his home. I have heard stories about him, and I know he has acquired some odd servants, but I know little of the man. Had I seen any sign of distress in her I should have spoken out, but she seemed content… and she may be Anne de Montfort for all I know. Had Sir Harry not visited me, it would not have crossed my mind to doubt her.’ Some of those odd servants had escaped the Spanish Inquisition, which had not pleased De Vere’s masters. Stefan de Montfort was no friend of Spain. The Inquisition would no doubt reward him if they learned that Stefan de Montfort had been dealt with satisfactorily.