Sebastian inclined his head, signaling to Margarita as she stood in the hall. She slipped inside his study. “Probably not, my friend. I hate goodbyes. Don’t let Hadley forget about me.”
“I won’t. I hope to see you in England soon.” He turned and began making his way up the stairs. “Say thank you to Margarita for me. She’s made Lily and Sarah feel quite welcome. But not as welcome as you, it would seem!”
Sebastian’s soft chuckle followed him up the stairs.
Christian halted outside Sarah’s door. The urge to enter and beg her for forgiveness made every muscle in his body tighten, but now was not the time.
He’d said at the beginning that the seduction of Sarah would take patience. Having to be patient hurt him greatly, but the need to see her was physical torture.
If it meant winning Sarah, it was one burden he’d stoically bear.
Sarah paced her bedchamber. She kept her hands clasped firmly behind her back, knowing she’d bite her fingernails to the quick if they got anywhere near her mouth.
What to do? What to do? What to do?
Christian had a temper. He’d frightened her tonight.
She could refuse to travel tomorrow. She could be a coward and stay here. Sebastian would help her if she asked. The only problem was, she’d already formed a close bond with Lily. Lily would not understand. She’d be hurt yet again. Someone else was going to desert her.
Lily also filled a hole in Sarah’s life. While running from her past, while fleeing toward Canada, she’d known the life she’d always wanted was forfeit. There would be no husband, no children, and no loving family. Yet, since looking after Lily, her future seemed not so bleak. Suddenly she could see a chance at belonging, a chance at, if not having a child of her own, at least having a substitute one. She had Lily now.
She would love Lily as if she were her own.
However, the Christian at the table this evening was a stranger. He had been filled with anger and hate. His temper had been barely disguised by a veneer of respectability. How destructive could his temper get? Sarah had sworn never to put herself in harm’s way again.
When hatching her plan to travel back to England as governess to Lord Markham’s ward, she’d never fully considered how tenuous a relationship with an employer could be. She needed stability, especially as it would be dangerous for her to seek employment elsewhere. Once at his estate, if he learned how vulnerable she was, she would be at his mercy. Trapped, unable to turn to the law or indeed anyone for help, she would always be dogged by the fear of being arrested.
Sarah had thought she’d chosen well, that fate had sent her to Christian. She’d thought she knew him, the war hero whom the ton used to love. But did she know the real man underneath? The man who hid under the scars and heroic veneer?
She would be alone on his ship, with his crew, a long way out to sea. Memories of her horror-filled voyage to Virginia following her marriage made her stomach churn. The nausea she’d lived with most of her married life left her feeling terrified. She couldn’t go through a voyage or experiences like that again. She’d been kept a virtual sex slave in their cabin. Her husband demanded that his customary rights be available constantly. He’d not let her out of bed until she’d gotten sick with cabin fever. Finally, after two torturous weeks, she’d been allowed up on deck for sun and fresh air.
It had been the start of her eighteen-month nightmare. A nightmare she’d escaped by creating another nightmare. She’d become a murderess …
A small, persistent whisper in her head told her Christian wouldn’t treat her like Peter had. Unless … What if she upset him? What if she declined his attentions? After allowing him to pleasure her last night, would he expect to be able to bed her at his whim? No! She’d not allow it. With her husband dead, only she owned her body.
Her stomach knotted further, and she sank onto the corner of the bed. The memory of the night she’d fled her husband and Sean, her husband’s overseer … The images were more vivid when she closed her eyes. Zachary had saved her just in time. Onboard the ship, could she rely on Christian? She’d rather die than let herself be exposed to a violent temper again.
Would Christian force her if she refused him? She doubted it, but could she take the chance? In the dining room, he’d behaved like any nobleman stymied in his quest to get whatever it was he wanted. Most of the peerage did not understand the word “no.” They did not respect the word “no.”
For the first time since leaving York, she questioned her plan. She didn’t really know Christian Trent, the Earl of Markham. She’d only ever seen him from afar. She’d formed a picture of an honorable hero, but who was he really? He’d admitted that he’d been accused of rape. What if it was true?
She needed to speak with Sebastian. He would know the truth about the allegations, and he wouldn’t lie to her. Sebastian had sworn that Christian would never hurt her. Would he? She needed to understand the inexplicable change in Christian’s behavior. What could be the cause of his temper tantrum this evening?
If Sebastian thought it was safe to sail with Christian, she’d continue on with the voyage.
She jumped to her feet, the need to find Sebastian as soon as possible propelling her toward the door. With her hand on the latch she halted. Damn. She’d have to wait until Christian went to bed. Sarah leaned on the door and pressed her ear against it. She doubted the men would be too late. She’d seen Margarita skulking in the shadows and knew the housekeeper was waiting for Sebastian.
If Sarah wasn’t mistaken, Margarita held more than the position of housekeeper in Sebastian’s household. She was a beautiful woman. Her chocolate-colored skin, jet-black hair, and eyes the same emerald green as Christian’s gave her an exotic look. Every man looked at Margarita when she walked by.
You’d have to be blind not to catch the looks shared between master and servant. Sebastian’s lust-filled gaze followed Margarita’s every step, and her eyes sparkled with blazing desire in return.
Sarah envied the couple. No one else in the household seemed to mind. The affair would be frowned upon in England. Household staff were a vicious and jealous lot—one of the reasons she could not be a governess and Lord Markham’s paramour. It would cause too much talk, and anyone envious of her position could cause trouble. If they chose to dig into her past …
Hearing no sound from the corridor, she opened the door—and stifled a scream as she stepped directly into a solid mass of muscled heat.
Christian!
He caught her and held her lightly. He immediately dropped his hands from her person when she gave a distressed cry and tried to pull away.
“I’m sorry if I startled you. I’ve come to apologize for my boorish behavior this evening. If it’s any consolation, I feel like an idiot.”
She stepped back into her room, all senses wary of his sudden contrition.
“May I come in and explain?”
She was about to shake her head, but his eyes, reminding her of a lost puppy’s, tugged at her heart. Would it hurt her to listen?
“You may enter, but the door stays open.”
“Of course.” He entered her room and moved to the windows. He stood with his back to her, his hands moving nervously, his shoulders tense. Why didn’t he speak? What was he waiting for? Perhaps he was still trying to find an excuse?
“When I came back from town this afternoon, I was informed you were still down at the beach.”
Sarah barely managed to stop the “Oh, no!” from slipping out of her mouth. He’d seen her with Sebastian! Understanding dawned bright on her face. He turned at her muffled squeak of comprehension.
An elegant eyebrow rose. “Precisely! When I saw Sebastian walk naked—”
“Naked? He was never naked.” She felt heat flare in her face. “At least, not while I was present.”
“I didn’t know that. I—”
She finished for him. “Jumped to the wrong conclusion.” He nodded. “Your display of bad manners this evening was what, jealou
sy?” she asked incredulously.
Christian’s face flooded with color, and he looked sheepish. “I thought what we shared the other evening was special. When I thought you’d been with Sebastian I was shocked, hurt, and angry. I thought you did not feel the same about …”
Anger slid over her, hanging about her body for protection. “You obviously think very little of me if you thought I could share myself so readily with another man one night after allowing you into my bed.” The room reverberated with the harsh, accusatory tones of her voice. “Did you think my reluctance and terror at intimacy were all an act?”
He turned his face toward her and struggled to express himself. “Since my burns, no woman has willingly shared my bed. I have to pay them. Even then they usually have to fill themselves with alcohol in order to bear my touch. I could not—” He paused, and she could see his Adam’s apple moving. “I still cannot believe you welcomed me into your bed, especially given the circumstances.” His shoulders straightened and he stood tall. “I am telling you this to gain not your pity or forgiveness but your understanding.”
And just like that, he crushed her bitter anger into little pieces. She’d been focused on her hurt and her injuries, but it appeared his injuries ran just as deep. His scars hid deeper internal wounds that he kept hidden from the world. He was a proud man, and she realized what it had cost him to admit this to her.
She reached out and stroked the battle-injured face, the face she could very easily learn to love. “The fact that I gave myself to you and trusted you not to hurt me should have told you how much I value your friendship. Didn’t that make you wonder why a man like Sebastian would appeal to me?”
He ran a finger under his cravat. “I used to be a man like Sebastian. I know what appeals to him.”
“I’m talking about me.”
He hung his head, reminding her of a naughty schoolboy. “I didn’t consider your feelings. A man with Sebastian’s experience knows how to seduce. And you’re a beautiful woman.”
She sighed. “Even I can see Sebastian has eyes only for Margarita.”
He looked even more sheepish. “I only noticed that tonight. I’d been too busy noticing you to see what was before me. I’m sorry.”
Heat flared in her cheeks. Inwardly she was flattered he noticed her more than a woman as beautiful as Margarita. “Apology accepted.” She saw relief wash over his handsome features, although he still looked nervous. She added, “Your behavior tonight proves that perhaps we are moving into our relationship too fast. You obviously don’t know me.” She shivered. “Unlike consummate rakes, I could never—that is, I would never—have an affair with more than one man at a time.”
“I should have known that about you. In fact, I did know that about you. I’m not sure what came over me.” Sauntering over to the daybed under the opened windows, he sat, resting his elbows on his knees, placing his chin on his fists. “I have the Markham temper. I’ve too much of my father in me. I’ve always kept my anger on a tight rein, and up until today, I’d always taken pride in my ability to control my emotions.”
Sarah furrowed her brow. “It isn’t good to bottle everything up. The sea is calmest before the storm.”
He raised his eyebrows and looked away. “Often, once unleashed, the storm becomes too wild.”
“Look at me!” Sarah walked to stand in front of Christian. “You were hurt, disillusioned, and angry tonight. You lashed out. But you didn’t stay angry. You didn’t let the anger consume you.”
“I frightened you.”
She smiled. “You did.” Moving closer, she sat next to him and draped her arm around his shoulders. “But if I wasn’t so damaged, I’d remember men have arguments. People have arguments and tempers flare. Not all arguments end in extreme violence, death, mayhem … As I said, sometimes it’s good to clear the air.”
He turned his face to press a little kiss into her palm. “You’re not damaged.”
She dropped her gaze from his and whispered, “You have no idea.” He cupped her cheek and raised her head. She shook free of his hold and smiled. “It was Sebastian you wanted to destroy, not me. Besides, you’ve shown that you’d never physically hurt me.”
He let out a low snort. “I’ve done nothing of the kind.”
Sarah gazed tenderly at him. “You could have forced yourself on me when I came to your room the very first night. At first I thought you were asleep the whole time, but now … you were pretending, weren’t you?”
“I thought you were a dream,” he said in stark, quiet honesty, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.
She giggled and slapped his knee. “Still, on the ship you could have taken advantage of me. You knew how fragile I was, how raw, how much I needed to be healed. But you behaved like a true gentleman, even when you were aroused.”
“Just looking at you arouses me.”
She ran her fingers through his silky hair. “Then we will have no more talk of apologies. We will start afresh. Let’s promise to talk to each other if we ever feel confused.” He moved his arm and placed it around her waist, drawing her closer. She pressed on. “Tell me about your father and this notorious Markham temper.”
Bleakness invaded his face. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this story. Anyone weaker or not in a position to fight an earl was fair game.” He hesitated before adding, “Especially women. Are you sure you want to hear more?”
She nodded. “I want to know the things that happened in your life. The things that shaped you into the man you are today. I already know about your valor on the battlefield. Lady Serena heard that you were considered a great commander and leader of men.”
“I had a lot to make up for. My father was the least honorable man I have ever known.” He laughed drearily. “He ruled with intimidation. The servants lived in fear of his rages and punishments.”
“What of you? Did he mistreat you?” she asked softly.
Christian briefly closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. “No. I never bore the brunt of his temper. He never once hit me or disciplined me. At first I was pleased not to incur his wrath, but then … I saw how the staff looked at me. They looked at me as if I were my father. They were too scared to speak to me, let alone befriend a lonely boy. I grew up in solitary confinement.”
“What about friends?”
“I had no friends until I was sent to school. All the neighboring families knew what my father was like, and refused to let their children come to the house. Occasionally I’d get invited to their homes, but the children would taunt me to try and make the infamous Markham temper explode.”
Sarah petted him, smoothing his black forelock out of his eyes, offering silent, uncomplicated sympathy.
He drew in a deep breath. “I hated the fact I was spared. I wanted to help those around me and shield them from harm, but I couldn’t understand how I could help when they wouldn’t let me. They branded me evil without giving me a chance to prove I wasn’t.”
“Your father must have loved you very much if he singled you out.”
“Hardly,” he said dryly. “It was guilt. I look like my mother.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I barely remember her,” he whispered bleakly. “I was six years old when she died. I can scarcely recall what she looked like, but I do remember her perfume—lavender—and the way she’d cuddle me close if I was ill or hurt. She lit up the nursery when she came to visit. All the staff loved her. She was gentle, quiet, and compassionate—all the things my father wasn’t.”
Sarah was quiet for a moment. Even though Sebastian had told her, she knew Christian had to say it, to speak of it. “How did she die?” Outwardly she sat very still, but inwardly she cried for the young boy he’d been.
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “At the hands of my father,” he said, anguish clear in every note.
“An accident?”
She flinched at the pain underlying his whisper, and she let him feel for her hand and grip it tig
htly. “I’ve never told anyone apart from Grayson and Sebastian. I was too young at the time to understand, but Roberts, my father’s butler, told me years later. Father beat her and then pushed her down the stairs at Henslowe Court.” Christian just looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. “When I reached manhood, I couldn’t confront him because of what he might do to Roberts. But Father knew I knew. He could not look me in the eye, and he began to drink even more, which made it worse for everyone. So, finally, I left. I left home and joined the cavalry. Fighting to help defeat Boney helped ease the anger and helplessness burning inside me.”
She pressed a chaste kiss on his lips and he pulled her onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and regarded him matter-of-factly. “You are nothing like your father. You take after your mother in more than looks. You’re gentle, kind, compassionate …”
“God, I hope so, because there’s more. He did terrible things. I pray every day that I don’t have his bad blood coursing through my veins.”
“What could be worse than killing your mother?” she asked in shocked surprise.
“I have at least one half sister that I know of.”
“Know of?” She knew whatever he was about to say was terrible, for his muscles tightened beneath her fingers.
“When I was ten years old, I used to play hide-and-seek with the governess. During one of the games I’d hidden in the linen cupboard, unbeknown to my father. He dragged a maid inside the room and raped her. He discharged her from service when she was big with his child. She threw herself off a bridge soon after the child was born.”
Sarah stilled in his arms, nausea churning in her stomach. His father was a rapist. Her mind rebelled at the thought of Christian being this man’s son, but they were very different. She admired how honorable he was, considering his upbringing. He’d been born to privilege and power but did not abuse it. He wore his status with pride and humility, knowing that being wealthy and a peer did not necessarily make a person a good man.
A Kiss of Lies Page 16
