Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman

by Unknown

  "No, actually I think the air has been beneficial. I'm feeling much better."

  "Good."

  "Your mother is very kind."

  "Because she worried over your headache?" he asked. "She's a worrier and loves to defeat any kind of problem. She'll attack a headache, a splinter, or the plague with the same perseverance."

  "I like her. I like your sister, too. She seemed to be so much fun."

  "Then I can't wait until you meet Elizabeth."

  "Tell me more about your niece. What is she like?"

  "Elizabeth?" He smiled. "Sweet, unaffected, open and honest in the way only children can be. Somewhat"his voice grew softer"like you."

  "Me?" Charity wanted to argue, to say no, I am not open and honest! I am deceiving you!

  "You," he said. He reached across the short distance between them and took one of her hands in his. He held her hand and lightly ran the tips of his fingers across her palm. Charity wanted to pull her hand away, but she couldn't seem to accomplish that. His

  delicate touch sent a current of warmth through her, warmth and new confusion.

  She had planned to get Noah to trust her, to open the doors of his home to her so she could release Gregory from the terrible hold his enemy had on him. She had not planned on this strange weakening every time he touched her.

  He was doing nothing more than caressing her hand, and yet she could feel his will seeping into the cracks of her resistance.

  "Charity," he said softly, "have you ever been to London, to the royal court?"

  "Ah . . . no . . . no, I haven't." She tried to draw her hand away because she couldn't seem to concentrate on what he was saying. "I am afraid I was raised by a widowed aunt who cared nothing for the gaiety of court life."

  "I would love to show you how exciting and how much fun it can be."

  "That's impossible."

  "Why?"

  "Because"she motioned about her"here, in the solitude of the country, my . . . freedom . . . is overlooked. But, if I were to come to court alone"

  "But you wouldn't be alone. My mother is returning to London along with Kat and Elizabeth. I'm sure they would be more than delighted to have you as a guest."

  A guest in his home in London. It would be a perfect opportunity to continue her search if she did not find the letters here.

  "I shall have to think about it."

  "I know so little about you. You're an orphan, that I gathered, but beyond that you're a mystery."

  "There is little to know. I was an only child and was kept secluded because my aunt was rather . . . conservative. I was allowed to come here only because Beth promised to come with me. But . . . to go to London"

  "We would, of course, insist that Beth come along. Trust me, there is no better chaperone in captivity than my mother. As for me"he raised her hand and lightly touched his lips to the palm"I want very much for you to come."

  Again, despite her struggle, he had touched her vulnerability. She struggled to remember that this man was exceedingly clever, and exceedingly heartless and cruel. She knew what had to be done and she intended to do it.

  "Then," she said softly, "if you want me to come . . . I will."

  Noah looked intently at her. There was no teasing seduction in her face, no promising gaze of the temptress, no smile of invitation. There was just a steady gaze and a smile so soft and feminine and guileless that he felt some long-sleeping thing, deep within him, begin to stir.

  In a smooth, graceful motion he was beside her. This time his arms came about her and she was held against the solidity of his chest.

  "What a delight you are, Charity. You have a truthfulness about you that is so refreshing, it's hard to believe. I find myself caught up in you. You are a mystery, my sweet, that I must solve."

  Guilt tugged at her, but she pushed it aside. He was untruthful! He was the one who was deceptive! Why should she feel guilt? She moved out of his arms.

  "I am not a mystery, Noah," she replied. "Perhaps, because of my aunt . . . or my background, I do not find it appealing to be thrust into a life I do not know. I prefer to remain quietly among friends and those I can trust."

  If the words aroused any guilt within him, it didn't show.

  "It will be several days before we leave for London. I'm sure by now Elizabeth is looking forward to meeting you. I'll ride over tomorrow. It's not wise for a woman as beautiful as you to ride the distance between our homes alone."

  She smiled. Her plans for tomorrow were already forming in her mind.

  All the while she undressed and prepared for bed, she planned. If it were possible to spend the entire day at Whitebriar, perhaps even the night, she might find what she was looking for and be able to end everything.

  Once comfortably in bed, she lay on her side so she could look out of the large window and watch the starlit sky, which boasted a moon so huge and mellow she felt as if she could reach out and touch it.

  She closed her eyes and drifted into a dream, a confusing dream that fled with the morning sun.

  The next morning Charity was wakened early by Beth, who could not wait any longer to find out all about the dinner.

  "Gregory was there."

  "Gregory? He must be very anxious."

  "I don't believe that," Charity said. "I think he is worried about me and wanted to be with me for a while. He is that kind of a thoughtful person. I wish this was over so we could get married and go away for a while. I hate all this sneaking about and lying."

  "Charity, how are you going to carry this out? You have no idea where to find what you're looking for. Even if the letters are here, how do you plan to find them? You can't just search the house." Beth was frowning as she spoke, and Charity could see her anxiety.

  "I'm planning to spend the night there, in fact two nights if I can manage to pull it off."

  "How?" Beth asked.

  "A little accident, something that will require me to stay. Nothing that would call for a doctor."

  "An accident!" Beth was alarmed.

  "Not really," Charity soothed. "Just something that looks like an accident."

  "How do you propose to do that? You could really get hurt."

  "Now, Beth, you yourself told me you thought I was a good actress. Why can't I make Noah believe I'm delicate enough to need care if I have . . . say . . . a fall . . . a sprained ankle . . . or . . ."

  "And Noah believes you're so sweet and innocent that the thought of you deliberately getting hurt just to search his house would never come to mind."

  Charity's smile faded. Yes, Noah did believe just that. Beth's words brought pictures to her mind she

  would just as soon ignore. She had to hold on to the thought that Noah's kind actions, his soft words and interested manner, were all camouflage to hide the devious seducer and fraud that he really was.

  ''Yes," Charity said quietly, "as I said, I am a good actress and he does believe that. But one has to fight fire with fire. Gregory needs to be free of Noah's blackmail if we are ever to find any happiness. He has no weapons to use."

  "Except you."

  "Beth . . . why"

  There was a knock on the door before she could complete the sentence. Beth smiled and rose to go to the door, while Charity watched her with a frown. Beth had never been enthusiastic about the charade Charity was playing. She supported her because she was that kind of a friend. But her subtle questions irritated Charity.

  After Charity's experience with Charles, Beth didn't believe love like Gregory's could really exist. To her every wealthy man had an ulterior motive. Charity would prove Beth wrong. She would prove that when Gregory was free, her life would be changed. She would find a place of permanence and peace. Beth closed the door and walked back toward Charity.

  "It seems Noah Morgan is downstairs, waiting for you. Millie is all atwitter. Noah is quite handsome."

  "There is no denying that, Beth," Charity said dryly, "so you can stop teasing. He's handsome and he is also unscrupulous, so don't waste any of you
r worrying on him. No one is doing him any harm really. I'm just preventing him from doing harm to someone

  else. What is wrong with that?" She rose from her bed and rang for her bath. She meant to keep Noah cooling his heels while she made sure she looked her absolute best. Today was a very special day and she had to move surely and carefully.

  Beth left Charity to her preparations and went downstairs. When she entered the library where Noah waited, he was standing with his back to the door, looking up at a portrait Gregory had had hung to make the room feel as if it had been occupied by a family. Who it was and where he had brought it from, none of them knew.

  Noah turned when he heard the click of the door.

  "Good morning," Beth began. "Charity asked me to entertain you while she dressed. I'm afraid she slept late this morning."

  "Good morning, Beth. I suppose I have arrived a bit early. I didn't want Charity to set out on her own."

  "May I get you some tea . . . or any other refreshment? Have you had breakfast?"

  "Yes, I've eaten. No, I don't care for anything else, thank you."

  Beth walked across the room to a wing chair near the fireplace. As she crossed the room she could feel his penetrating gaze on her.

  Noah was, indeed, watching her closely, for he had the vague feeling he had seen her somewhere before. It was a fleeting thing. As she spoke, nothing about her voice was familiar. But there was something . . . something . . . He realized Beth was watching him. She was looking intently at him, and he was quite certain her eyes missed little. He was amused at the

  idea that her opinion should mean anything to him, but surprisingly it did.

  "You are a relative of Charity's?"

  "Yes, a cousin. I am really the only family she has."

  "I do hope you plan to stay for a while."

  "That's a decision Charity must make."

  It seemed clear that Charity had never mentioned his invitation to London. Perhaps she had changed her mind. He'd question her. He wanted to show her London, to watch her responses and share in a pleasure he hadn't known for a long timethat of seeing the great city for the first time.

  "Do you spend much time here in the country, Lord Morgan? I had heard most of your business is in London."

  So, she had heard, had she? From where, he wondered.

  "I spend as much time here as I can. Actually, I prefer the country. Court can become . . ." He shrugged and smiled.

  "Tiresome?" she offered with a responding smile.

  "Burdensome might be a more accurate word."

  "Charity has told me that your mother and sister are here."

  "With my niece, yes."

  "They don't enjoy being at court?"

  "They enjoy it," he laughed. "In small doses, which is about the best way to enjoy it."

  "And your sister is a widow."

  "She remains so by choice. Her husband was a fine man. When he died, Kathy was inconsolable. She's

  not found another to match him and she won't settle for less."

  "And you are a bachelor by choice?" She smiled to buffer the question a bit.

  "No, not really. My time is so limited I've hardly had time to consider a wife."

  "Or heirs?"

  "Every man wants heirs. But"his gaze met hers and his smile was knowing"it is necessary to find the right woman. Having children is not an indiscriminate affair. They must be guided properly, and"his smile vanished"I've seen too many political, loveless marriages that destroy the children born of them."

  "Why, Lord Morgan," Beth laughed softly. "Under that tough exterior beats the heart of a romantic. Who would have thought it?"

  "Don't bandy it about." He chuckled. "You would go a long way in destroying my hard-won reputation as a man determined never to marry at all."

  "Your secret is safe with me."

  "And just what secret is that?" Charity's amused voice came from the doorway.

  Noah turned to look at her, and Beth would have too, had not the look in his eyes caught her attention.

  He tried to keep his expression under control. Beth guessed he was a man who never let anyone know what went on behind the mask. But this time his eyes revealed more than he probably realized. And the revelation sent a streak of fear through Beth. If this man loved, he would love with the fierceness of a preda-

  tory male, and if he hated, he would hate with the same passion.

  Noah forced himself to remain still, clasping his hands behind him to control the urge to go to Charity. He wanted to grab her up in his arms and kiss her until she lost that cool, detached look she wore now and begged him to make love to her.

  She was lovely in an emerald green riding habit that matched the green of her eyes. She smiled at him with an open smile, and walked toward him.

  "Good morning, Charity, I hope you slept well."

  "Very well, thank you. Now"she turned to look at Beth"just what secrets are being kept from me?"

  "Secrets?" Beth said. "No one would keep a secret from you, Charity, at least no one in this household," she laughed. "Will you be home for dinner?"

  "Not if I can persuade her to stay," Noah said. His gaze had never left Charity. "I'm going to put forth every effort to do just that"he smiled at Beth"and I have a lot of reserve support. Charity has not met my niece yet. I'll trust Elizabeth into charming her to stay."

  "I have a feeling I'm outnumbered," Charity responded.

  "Then make a diplomatic surrender and agree."

  "All right. Beth, I won't be home for dinner." Or until tomorrow if I have any luck, she thought.

  "Then let's go while I still have you in this mood," Noah said with mock seriousness.

  Beth watched them leave, but then her smile faded and a look of worry replaced it. Charity was so con-

  fident, yet Beth had the feeling that she was playing with fire.

  Noah and Charity walked across the rolling green lawn toward the stable. He liked her free-moving stride, unlike the mincing steps of the ladies of the day. A quick and knowing glance told him that she had not hampered herself with rigid corsets. His imagination played havoc with him for an unrestrained moment. He knew from experience there was little between him and the graceful and luscious body that moved so easily beside him.

  A groom had taken his horse when he had arrived and now it stood beside Charity's impatient mare.

  His gelding pawed the ground and snorted, causing Noah to laugh. "Settle, you idiot," he said softly, "you're showing off. You don't have that good a memory."

  Once he had helped Charity into the saddle, he mounted and they walked the horses toward the path that led away from Stafford Hall.

  They rode side by side for several minutes before either spoke, and then suddenly both spoke at the same time and they ended in laughter.

  "You first."

  "I was just going to remark on how beautiful the view is from here," Charity said.

  "You're right," Noah said, his eyes on her. "The view from where I am is remarkably beautiful." He watched her cheeks flush, and another random thought came to him. Charity Gilbert was not used to such personal compliments. Was it the compli-

  ment that had made her blush or was it him? It pleased him to think it might be the latter.

  Noah was cognizant of the age gap between them, and of the innocence she wore without realizing it. He fought the gnawing desire that was eating at him. He knew all the very logical reasons he should keep his hands off of her. One was the deadly business in which he was involved: another reason was all the years behind him filled with women like Anne. When he compared Charity to Anne it only made him more conscious of the wrongness of pursuing Charity . . . but he went on gazing at her because a part of him could not forget the renewal of an emotion he had thought long dead.

  Sofia welcomed them with cups of tea and small cakes to refresh them after their ride.

  They had barely sat down when a squeal of delight heralded the arrival of a small bundle that flung itself into Noah's arms.


  Noah rose laughing, and again Charity was caught in a dilemma. This man, this devastatingly handsome man, was either a chameleon or he was the most devious human being alive. He hugged the child to him and laughed along with her.

  Kathy followed her little bundle, laughing herself. She spoke to Charity while she watched the two.

  "You'll have to forgive her, Charity. It seems Noah is the only other child she really likes to play with."

  "I resent that," he said with a grin as he came to stand close to Charity's chair with Elizabeth still in his arms. "Charity, this is the most perfect child in the world. Elizabeth, I want you to meet a very special lady, Charity Gilbert."

  Charity's eyes met a pair of curious ones the same magnetic blue as Noah's. Elizabeth seemed to be assessing her as piercingly as Noah had done.

  "Hello, Elizabeth." Charity smiled and received a timid smile in return.

  "Be careful"Noah smiled down at Charity"she's deceptive." Charity looked up at him with a suddenly shuttered look, and he fought the instinct to reach out and touch her. Again some misty grayness had come between them.

  Later Charity was given a tour of the house by Kathy, who, she felt, actually wanted to get her alone for a while.

  They walked together down the shady avenue between a double row of trees.

  "Noah tells me you might come to London."

  "I'm considering it."

  "Charity . . . would you be angry if I asked you a personal question?"

  "No, of course not."

  "What do you know of life at court?"

  "Nothing, I've never been."

  "Then . . . it's for Noah that you plan on going?"

  "That's part of the reason, his invitation. The rest is"she shrugged"because I want to see it for myself."

  "Things are . . . different there, people are different."

  "And Noah is different," Charity added softly.

  "He has no choice. You don't understand."

  "Kathy, I've only known your brother a few days. I'm much younger than he is, and I know sometimes

  he looks at me as if I were a child. I also know he has more experience than I. But don't misunderstand, or misinterpret what I'm saying. I'm not afraid of your ugly court intrigues, your two-faced people, your liars, or the people who plot and destroy. I have my reasons for going and I intend to go."