A Kiss of Lies

by Bronwen Evans

  She sucked in a breath of indignation at his words. “No!” she cried. “I thought you were fate, an angel sent to save me. Besides, if you recall, I tried to hide my looks.”

  Reaching out a hand, she stroked his cheek. “I thought it was God telling me he was helping me, for I used to worship you from afar. I dreamed of becoming Lady Markham right up until the day I was married to Peter Dennett.”

  “I see.” The short, whispered words rushed from him on an exhalation, as though someone had punched him in the stomach, or perhaps stuck a dagger through his heart. “But now that you are safely hidden in England, I’m not such a catch, am I? Better to simply use me for protection, is that right?”

  “How can you even think that after all we have shared?”

  “How, my lady? You seemed quite averse to marrying me or remaining my lover only a few days ago. In fact, as soon as we stepped onto English soil, it’s as if you no longer needed me.”

  She swallowed hard. A trifle pale, but with a look of stony resolve, she took his hands in hers. “With every breath in my body, I swear I wanted to accept your proposal, but how could I? How could I become your wife without the world realizing who I was? Then I would have dragged your good name through the mud. I know you. You would have defended me. How could I let you fall in love with me and then let you watch me hang? It was better to hurt you now, before we became entwined too deeply.”

  He bent and kissed her lips chastely. “It’s too late for that. I’m already in deep. And you’re right. I will defend you until my dying breath. You killed in self-defense and are blameless.”

  Christian could still recall his mother’s anguished cries in the night. It wasn’t until he was much older that he’d come to understand what they had signified. His father had beaten his mother. His father had killed his mother. He’d not see another innocent woman die because of a brutal bully. Unlike his mother, Serena would not be left alone and helpless.

  “Oh, Christian, how on earth can I prove that? There is no way Sean Burcher will tell the truth. I cut him with a knife. I escaped. I humiliated him. My only other witnesses are slaves. What British court would take the word of a slave over a white man? Peter is the brother of a marquis!”

  “Sebastian can testify for you. He’s also a marquis.” He hugged her, pulling her tightly against his chest. “He knows of Dennett’s behavior. Dennett almost killed one of Sebastian’s lightskirts with his sadistic tendencies. I’m sure we could find other men willing to testify to Dennett’s debauched character.”

  “Lord Coldhurst did say that all I had to do was ask and he’d come to my aid.”

  “Ah, so he did know who you were when we were in Jamaica. I thought he was hiding something.” Christian couldn’t hide the stab of hurt in his tone.

  “Don’t think too badly of your friend. I made him promise not to tell you who I was. He was only protecting you. That’s why he interrogated me at the beach. He too thought I was abusing your good nature.”

  When she finished speaking, Serena met his stare with a look of guarded tenderness. Blue shadows from the moonlight sculpted his face as she searched it for signs of how he was feeling.

  “He must have believed you were genuine, for we came to blows over you, yet he did not reveal your identity.”

  “In York, when I entered your study that first day, I can’t explain my reaction to you. I was drawn to you in exactly the same way as I had been when I was a young girl. I inwardly cried when I saw your wounds, and wondered how anyone could mark something so beautiful. I knew in that moment we would be good for each other. I got the overwhelming impression that somehow we could heal each other.”

  “You were the first woman to look me in the eye since I received my burns. That was what impressed me.”

  “I saw past your injuries to the man underneath. You were still the good, honorable, and kind man I had worshiped from afar.” She cupped his cheek. “And you’re still my beautiful, sexy hero.”

  He could barely breathe. “You still think I’m beautiful?”

  Her gaze trailed lingeringly over his finely chiseled face and drank in his potent male beauty. “How could I think otherwise? You are beautiful, both inside and out. Look at what you have done for me. You have had the patience, kindness, and understanding to help a woman overcome her worst fears. I can’t imagine how empty and cold my life would have become without the touch of another human being—without your touch. And here you are protecting me even after you’ve heard about everything I’ve done, and that I had deceived you as well. I’ve never wanted any man the way I want you.”

  “Would you want me even if I couldn’t protect you?”

  “Christian, I never ever expected you to protect me. I still don’t. I never thought you’d be interested in me as a lover in the first place. I was more than happy to be Lily’s governess. After what Peter did to me, wanting to be intimate with a man was the last thing on my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to let any man near me. It was you who pursued me.”

  What she said was true. If she’d been trying to manipulate him into protecting her, she would have taken the opportunity to seduce him the first night she came to his room. Instead she’d simply stayed to ease his nightmare, to help him, not herself.

  But what would happen when she became free of the charges? If he aided her in getting the charges dropped, would she still stay with him? He wanted to help her regardless of what it might cost him. Once she became Lady Serena Castleton again, men would flock to her. Would her feelings for him turn to pity, and would she decide she could do better than an ugly, disfigured war hero?

  He could force her hand right now. Marriage! He’d help her if she married him. But did he want her on those terms? If he made marriage a condition of aiding her, he’d never know if she truly loved him or if she felt nothing more than pity.

  Christian struggled with himself. Did he still want to marry her? Could he protect her if she became Lady Markham?

  They would both be dragged through the courts, and the process would tarnish his name still further. Then, there was the situation with Barforte. Would the Duke use Harriet’s rape against him? Would Harriet’s accusations be listened to and believed? Was his word of honor still recognized by his peers? Would it be enough to protect Serena?

  He could never live with himself if he promised her the protection of his name only to discover that his name was now not enough to save her.

  Despite all this, he could not live without her. He knew that much. He had to think long and hard before deciding on a course of action. Her life, and therefore his own, depended on the decision he made.

  Lifting her tense hand from where it lay on his chest, Christian bent his head, closed his eyes, and slowly kissed it. He heard the unsteady inhalation of her breath as her tears fell upon their joined hands. Her tiny sob melted his heart, and he covered her hand in kisses, every movement strengthening his resolve to reach deep within himself and protect her for the rest of her life. She would not end up dying young because of the brutality of her husband.

  She was not alone, unlike his mother had been.

  “We will think of a way to clear your name. For more than anything in the world, I want you to become my wife and the mother of my children. I love you, my beautiful girl.” He rested a hand on her belly. “You might already be carrying my child, and I want that more than anything.”

  She put her hand on top of his and leaned in to press her lips to his scarred cheek. As she drew back she said simply, “I love you too.” At his look of disbelief she added, “Truly. It’s as if I’ve always loved you.”

  “I don’t care about the past, Serena,” he whispered in a surge of fierce loyalty. “I want you to forgive yourself for what happened. God must agree you’re innocent, because he was helping you when he brought you to me. And I will lay down my life before I see you hurt further. We will work out a way to set you free. But I need time, time to consult with my lawyers and to build a substantial case. I’ll not revea
l your identity until we are ready to win.”

  “What if we can never prove it?” she asked in a subdued voice.

  “Then we will retreat to Henslowe Court and live our lives in secret. I’m not giving you up, not ever. If we have to flee to the ends of the earth in order to stay together, we will. You, me, and Lily.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “I’d die for you!” he exclaimed passionately.

  “Even knowing what I have done and that I deceived you?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “You’re not a murderess. You’re a survivor. A woman who was brave enough, and clever enough, to escape her fate. For I’m sure that had you stayed with Peter Dennett, he would have eventually killed you, just like my father killed my mother.”

  “Brave? I’m not brave. I was petrified of him. The things I let him do to me …”

  She looked at him with overwhelming self-hatred burning in her eyes.

  “You’re brave because you took the risk of trusting again. You trusted me. I’m still humbled by that honor. You didn’t let a man like Peter Dennett destroy you or your life. What’s more, you have faced your fears. You let me into your bed. You trusted me with your body, and after what you’ve been through, that is quite an accomplishment. It’s something I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for believing in me.” She hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in this position. Perhaps it would be better if I left, just walked away forever. What will Lily think when she hears I killed my husband?”

  “We will explain everything to her. Like you say, women should not be kept in the dark about men such as your husband. A woman shouldn’t have to defend herself against such violence. There is no excuse for Dennett’s actions, but there is for yours.” They held each other tightly. “You gave yourself to me and you are mine, mine to protect and to love.”

  She leaned closer and kissed his brow. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.” She trailed soft fluttering kisses across his forehead, his eyelids, and his aristocratic nose. “I love you, Christian Trent. I hope you won’t live to regret this.”

  “I’d regret it more if I let you go. I’ve wanted you so badly these last few days, I thought I’d combust.”

  She moved to sit astride his lap. He’d believed her without any proof. He had accepted her deception as her right, given her situation. He still offered her his protection, and, most of all, he’d told her he still loved her. She wanted to prove how much his love and support meant to her. He had healed her and she was going to spend her life healing him and proving to him just how attracted she was to his radiant beauty, both internal and external. No man had moved her as much as he had. And no man had made desire flare with simply a smile. The pleasure he gave her when he worshiped her with his body, she would never take for granted. Tonight she wanted to make love to him. She wanted to give him untold pleasure with no thought to hers.

  She captured his glittering gaze and with trembling hands freed his thick straining phallus from the confines of his breeches. His breathing grew ragged as she stroked him with her hands. She briefly left off her ministrations and untied her robe, shaking it off. Grabbing her night rail, she lifted it over her head.

  He groaned and lowered his mouth to her breasts. She quivered as his warm hands clamped atop her thighs. She rose to her knees and guided him into her body. Her instigation of lovemaking, her willingness to take the lead, ignited something wild in him, just as his passion had set her soul on fire.

  “I would never let any other man be where you are now. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.” She set about proving how much he meant to her. She hoped by demonstrating how willing she was to make love with him, by loving him utterly, he would feel like a whole man again after the shattering blows to his pride of having not only his body but his face mocked and pitied by others. Each time she said she loved him she saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. She wanted him to know her heart and know she spoke the truth.

  She rocked slowly upon him watching the emotions play across his face. She loved the way he cupped her breasts; they fitted his hands perfectly. When he stroked her hardened nipples, she shuddered. He leaned forward and suckled each breast reverently. She rose to tease the tip of his cock before plunging down until he was buried to the hilt inside her.

  He leaned back, his head resting on the back of the chair, and closed his eyes in bliss. “This is heaven. I never want to be anywhere else.”

  His hand sought for the space between their bodies to find some part of her to pleasure, but she wouldn’t let him. “This is for you. I want you to enjoy me and think of yourself only for a change.” With lowered lashes, he accepted his gift.

  His hands gripped her hips, and he couldn’t help but begin to thrust up into her. He let out a deep groan. After a few more slow teasing strokes, he gripped her harder, holding her so he could thrust just the way he wanted. She let him take control, for this was for him.

  She could feel his breeches rubbing against her bare skin but did not dream of stopping him. Never in her life had she imagined that giving herself so completely to a man in this way—body and mind, heart and soul—could feel so wondrous.

  She watched him, drinking in the beauty of his tense face, observing how the muscles in his neck corded with the tension of his desire, and how his eyes were hazed with passion and need.

  His hunger for release grew and he thrust hot and hard between her legs, urgent and commanding with long, deep thrusts, almost dislodging her from his lap. She could feel her breasts bouncing with each deepening thrust.

  His eyes flew open and he clutched one of her breasts in his hand. “Oh, God, Serena!” he gasped harshly, then went rigid and on the next mighty thrust he was seized by his climax with thunderous force. She leaned forward to clutch his shoulders in order to stay seated. His groan was long and penetrated to her very soul.

  Afterward, only his panting filled the silence. He pulled her against him and hugged her tightly. She stroked his head. “I love you,” she whispered.

  Still holding her close, he answered, “I hope you always will.”

  She smiled into the dimly lit room at his pensive murmur. “I’ll keep saying it all my life until you believe it.”

  Christian’s hand splayed against her back, a finger stroking her spine. “Are you going to marry me, then?”

  She leaned back, disentangling from his warmth, and shivered. “Do you still want me, knowing you may never be able to tell the world about me and knowing you may be unable to ever acknowledge our children?”

  “I don’t care about any of that. I just want to know that you’ll always be mine.”

  “We don’t need to be married for me to promise that.”

  “So that’s a no?” She heard the disappointment and sorrow in his voice.

  She trailed her fingertips down his cheek. “That’s a yes, my darling. I would be honored to marry you.”

  She was delighted to see a fragile bud of true, deep trust begin to unfurl in the depth of his eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

  “No more secrets between us, Serena. Promise me that.”

  “You have my word,” she whispered as he gifted her with another kiss. “No more secrets between us, ever.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Christian awoke the next morning filled with new determination. More than anything, he had to clear his name. If he were to aid Serena, his reputation must be spotless. He could ill afford to have the Duke of Barforte step forward and blemish his character with false accusations, or worse, deliberately set out to hit back at him by ensuring Serena hung.

  He left the house early before she awoke, and headed directly to the meeting with John Farnham of the Bow Street Runners.

  As he drove through the London streets, he couldn’t get the terrible image of Serena dangling at the end of a rope from his mind. He’d had a nightmare again last night, but this time it wasn’t the smell of burned
skin tormenting him.

  Serena had been beside him in bed to comfort him, and she gave herself to him to help chase the bad dreams away. Little did she know they were dreams of her impending death. He’d forced from his mind the awful image of her eyes bulging and her legs waving in the breeze as the breath was choked from her body, replacing it with the pleasure he took from her. She’d offered her lush curves and silken skin to him to ease his suffering. She gave generously, whispering words of love and devotion in his ear.

  He couldn’t believe he’d found a woman he wanted to share his life with. On the battlefields of France, he’d dreamed of meeting a woman he at least liked the look of, and had hoped they would rub along well enough, and that he’d sire a son to continue his title. But to meet a woman who commanded his heart and soul was completely unexpected, especially considering his burns and hideous looks.

  He had recognized from the very beginning in Canada that this woman was different. The minute she’d walked into his study in York and hadn’t flinched when she saw his face, he’d known she was the one. His biggest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to save her. Would fate be so cruel as to send him the woman of his dreams, only to let her be ripped from his arms?

  Somehow Serena had given him back to himself. For too long, he’d been pitying himself. So what if his looks were gone? There were others far worse off than him—Serena, for one. At least he was perfectly capable of defending himself, of living a full and deserving life. Serena had had any chance of happiness ripped from her, first by her grasping father and then by her evil husband.

  How shallow he’d become.

  He was ashamed of his actions these last few months. He swallowed, deciding he would try to overcome his shortcomings.

  He couldn’t fail her. Serena had put her fate in his hands. The last thing he wanted to do was to fail her. For in failing Serena, he’d destroy any chance of his own happiness.