by Glenda Diana
Thorton appeared to be listening attentively to whatever the child was saying. Several times Blake saw her nod. He watched as she caressed the child's hair. It was clear Aggie was enjoying the attention. When Thorton gave Aggie a kiss beneath her chin, the child's uproarious giggles reached through the window. A contagious sound, for Blake caught himself smiling.
Quickly, he yanked the curtain closed.
Remember your plan, he scolded himself. He could not afford to let this woman get to him. She was a Lynwood. Beauty was skin deep; he of all people knew that. Beneath her beauty ran the blood of her sire. She had come to uphold the hated bargain, making her no different than her father. She had come to make his life hell, just like her sire had done to Blake's sire. The sorry part was, that in less than half a day, she was doing a fine job.
Blake closed his eyes. Damn, he would have to accept her proposal; he had no other choice. But, he'd be damned if he would sink further into this pit of injustice. He would give her a year ... nothing more.
Yes, it would definitely be one hell of a long year, but not only for him. He would make sure it was just as long for Miss Lynwood. The lady was about to find that, in his household, he had strict rules, rules she would follow. While in his house she would comport herself as a lady. She would not wear outlandish outfits that fit her body like a second skin. Unbidden came the image of her soft, full, feminine lines so brazenly displayed in her scandalous attire.
From deep within, a groan escaped Blake. Would he be able to make it through twelve months? He would not lay with her, could not risk planting his seed in her womb. No matter how much his body wanted to accept her offer, he could not take it. He would not risk the chance of getting rid of her.
Perhaps, it was time to visit the nearest inn. There was always a willing wench available for a price. Once his hunger had been fed, he would be able to face the forthcoming days. Or so he hoped. At the fierceness of the hunger pangs radiating from his lower region, he wasn't sure if one visit to the tavern would be enough.
Damn the woman!
* * * *
Thorton listened as Aggie jabbered on about the litter of kittens. It took three promises from Thorton that she would venture to the stable to see this wonder before the gray-eyed, auburn-haired girl would leave.
Peacefulness settled on the garden. The air was slightly warmer than usual for March; only a touch of a cool wind blew. Thorton sank down on the nearest bench and raised her face to the sun. She wasn't sure if she could call her session with the Baron a success. He was fierce. But from the time she had first faced him, she felt she had known him forever.
Looking at the heavily draped windows, she couldn't help but smile. She had confused him. Why should he be any different? Most of the time she confused herself. Her life had always been simple. Now, what would her life be like? Would she be able to fit in here? Would the Baron give her a chance?
She shook her head. What good did it do to ponder “what ifs.” Things would either work out or they would not. She needed to concentrate on her goal. If he agreed, she had only one year to achieve it, and it would be harder than anticipated. Giving a weary sigh, she pushed herself up and headed for her room.
She was surprised to find a young maid waiting there. From what Thorton could gather from the girl's rapid speech, Griggs had sent her to help Thorton bathe and dress. The girl became distressed when Thorton thanked her and sent her on her way. For as long as she could remember, Thorton had never allowed herself to be pampered. But it wasn't just the thought of being pampered that bothered her; it was the irritating fact of someone intruding on her privacy.
As she closed the door behind the maid, Thorton caught her reflection in the long mirror. She giggled aloud as she recalled the Baron's horror when he realized she was a woman, then later when he realized she was his betrothed.
When she and Lucas had arrived, the housekeeper had first shown them into the drawing room, then, minutes later, they were ushered into the library. Thorton laughed at the memory. Obviously, Griggs had anticipated the Baron's reaction. The resounding bang of the drawing room door being slammed open had made her jump a good foot. Silently, she thanked the foreknowledge that had saved them from that scene. Doubtlessly, the Baron had not been pleased with Griggs’ thoughtfulness.
Lucas had given his ‘get ready’ look as they listened to the Baron's footsteps echo down the hall. She had whispered for Lucas to behave ... then the door opened, introducing her fate.
The first words out of the Baron's mouth, the timber of his voice, had made Thorton tremble. When she finally turned to face her future husband, she thought she might have swayed. He was just as she had envisioned-big and broad-and wasn't sure how he fit through the doorway.
A legion of men could not have stopped her from venturing closer. A magnetic pull forced her feet to move across the room. Standing next him, she'd felt so ... tiny. But what captured her, what she noticed above all else, was the way his ebony eyes had the power to hold her spellbound.
There was only one word to describe him. Thorton knew enough about the Baron to realize he would not like being called that word. Nonetheless, he was ‘gorgeous.’
Chapter Three
Blake dressed in his usual manner for dinner later that night. His dark brown pants fit tight over his muscular thighs. The white shirt gleamed in stark contrast with his smart tan waistcoat. He had never been one who spent a great deal of time on his attire. In truth, he much preferred the rustic country life and its casual dress. When the need did arise and he had to attend business in London, he dressed as his station demanded.
He never found much use in merging with the so-called haughty ton. Naturally, while in town he received several invitations, but he knew it was not out of friendship that they were sent. It was his title, a title older than most, that prompted the unwanted requests.
Since returning from the war he had attended only one such gala. It was a night of humiliation that still haunted him. Young chits gaped open-mouthed at him, some hid behind their equally rude and boorish parents. One silly, witless girl had actually fell face down in a swoon. After that Blake called an end to the ‘social life.’ Not that he had ever cared for the whole business anyway.
He was content to rusticate. He liked working alongside his tenants, managing the land, watching over his prime stock of cattle. His efforts had paid off; Stonecrest flourished under his care.
Blake did not see if his guest was waiting in the drawing room. Instead, he headed straight for the dining hall. If Griggs wanted to chase down the unwanted company and make a formal announcement regarding dinner, it was up to him.
Pushing all thoughts of the intruders from his mind, Blake concentrated on the soft clicking his Hessian boots made on the marble floor. His destination was in sight when her husky voice brought him to a stop.
“Are you not going to escort me to dinner, Baron?”
Blake could feel her presence, the electric arc that seemed to charge between them. A rush of spiteful words formed in his mouth, but he bit his tongue to stop them. He recalled the promise he had earlier made to himself. How hard could it be to ignore one woman?
Her small hand came to rest on his rigid forearm. An intense heat seemed to penetrate his shirt. Blake tried to disengage her hand, but when that failed, he turned to face her. For the first time, he noticed just how small she was. Her head barely reached the center of his chest. He felt monstrous beside her ... like the Beast he was called.
Monstrous. Realization washed over him as he stared into her topaz eyes. Always, the knowledge, the memory of pain, was foremost in his mind, making him conscience of his deformity, especially in the presence of women. What power did this wench wield that made him forget his disfigurement, if for only a brief second? Again he felt disgusted with himself. He started to turn away, but made a fatal mistake by glancing down.
His breath caught in his throat. She was exquisite in the gown of emerald-green silk. Frothy black lace trimmed her déc
olletage, drawing his complete attention. The neckline was cut far deeper than appropriate. It was scandalous. His thoughts turned against him, as if taunting him for noticing. His mind reasoned that the dress would not be so disgraceful on another. It was her full bosom that made the material fall below its intended mark.
He hated the natural male detection that brought this bit of unwanted knowledge to mind. He recalled how his gaze had been drawn to the junction of Thorton's thighs when she'd worn the skintight pants. The way they had hugged her round bottom. This was a fully-rounded woman ... a woman created for pleasure ... a woman who brought an intense burning to his loins.
Blake watched in fascination as her pearly white skin turned a light pink. He battled the primitive instinct that threatened to overtake him. Lust was not his friend, only a painful reminder. A valuable lesson he had learned on the battlefield was to endure and overcome any obstacle, but war had not prepared him to withstand an obstacle such as this. In the back of his mind, he heard the whisper asking him if he would ever be able to endure and overcome this enemy.
“I believe your maid forgot the rest of your gown,” he said, breaking the prolonged silence. “Mayhap you should return to your room and have it repaired. Or was it your wish to display yourself for any and all to see?”
Thorton's cheeks burned hot. Score another one up for him, she thought, as her embarrassment increased. The obnoxious man was beginning to irritate her. By God, she would not let him shame her. Shyly, she lowered her gaze, peeking up at him like a dimwitted schoolgirl.
“My goodness,” she whispered, breathlessly. “This is hard for me to understand. Most of my life men have said sweet, tender words to me. A few even wrote poems about my beauty. Though it's probably shameful and cruel to admit, at the time, I thought it all rather childish.” She stepped closer. “If only they had known that a few crude words could set my heart pounding ... I dread the thought of what might have happened. Be careful, Baron,” she said impishly, running her hand up his arm. “Such talk may make me stay forever.”
A look of astonishment came to Blake's face, making Thorton laugh.
“I was jesting, Milord. Can we call a truce at least until after we've eaten? Personally, I'm too famished to do battle.”
He guided her into the dining hall. “Where is your guardian tonight, Miss Lynwood?” he asked, pulling out her chair for her.
“Lucas has decided to dine in his room.”
“How convenient.”
Thorton started to ask what he meant, but stopped. He was shrewd, the type who liked to hook his victim with cynical comments, then hoist them in for the final thrust of his sharp, hypocritical tongue. She was not about to become his next victim. Instead, she gave an indifferent shrug.
Blake was slightly disappointed she did not continue their verbal attack. He was unsure if he was impressed by her natural self-sure wit. He would tell everyone else otherwise, but in truth he was indeed impressed. There was at least one part of her he might actually enjoy.
He found he had to correct his wayward thoughts. There were several areas she possessed that he immensely liked. Savagely, he pushed away his lustful notions as he dutifully reminded himself the beauteous lady was his foe ... no matter how much he might desire her.
Desire? That one word nearly ruined his appetite. Desire for his enemy. In less than twenty-four hours he had fallen prey to her charms. At this rate he would definitely betray his plans.
Hell and damnation, he should have Griggs shoot him now and get it over with. How had the chit gotten to him in such a deadly way? It was his own fault, Blake reasoned. For the past few years he had lived a celibate life. It was impossible to find a mate who did not express her revulsion.”
Countless times he found his gaze returning to Thorton. From the way she had been earlier attired he had assumed she was ill-bred as well as ill-dressed. He was surprised to see she did have impeccable manners at table and could dress almost properly. That he could actually mark a couple of points in her favor did little to improve his appetite.
Thorton felt his burning gaze. The blasted man made her nervous. If the Baron knew just how well he was succeeding in making her feel unwanted, he would probably gloat or charge at her until she cried defeat. She tried to think of something to say, but declined one idea after another. No matter what she might utter, he would undoubtedly rise to the occasion with some vile remark. Perhaps, if she strayed to some neutral subject...?
“You have a lovely home, Baron.”
“Thank you.”
“In a way, it reminds me of my home. Rosewood is most tranquil. I have a flower garden where I spent most of my time. I can sit for hours and listen to the sounds of nature. Perhaps, someday you may see it.”
“Unlikely. Stonecrest requires all my time. But I'm not so heartless that I would deprive you of your cherished home. I would not object if you need to depart for home come first light.”
“That didn't last long, did it,” Thorton murmured, patting a napkin against her mouth. “What I said before entering the dining hall was useless. As you wish. But your words are just as futile. We have a contract. In the eyes of England, we are already wed. It's pointless to repeat this every time we have to spend a few moments together.”
“You're right, of course. Perhaps, it would be best if we refrain from joint meetings.”
“Then you wish to remain strangers. I never thought a man with your reputation would find a simple girl such a formidable adversary.”
Blake lifted his glass in mock salute. “I find your attitude as offensive as your code of dress.”
Thorton returned his false toast. “Bravo for us. We make a commendable couple. Just think of the blissful years we could share. Years of ignoring each other, of throwing insult after insult, of waiting to see which of us will crumble first. I know,” she paused, holding up her hand, “undoubtedly, it would be me who first surrenders.”
Blake smirked. “Should I applaud? You can be quite dramatic. Another trait? I never imagined a Lynwood would stoop to becoming so theatrical.”
Thorton ignored his remark. “I thought I might meet your father tonight. Doesn't he reside with you?”
Blake stiffened. “My father is no concern of yours. Stay away from him.”
She arched a brow. “If he's anything like you, it will be my pleasure.”
“We will not discuss this again!”
“Damn, you are devilish. To think my father could condemn his only daughter to such a fate.” Thorton stood and tossed her napkin on the table. “I've had enough of your interrogations and insinuations. I was under the impression we had called a truce for the duration of our meal.”
“Sit!” Blake snapped. Actually he wanted to laugh. She was a loud one. It had taken longer then he had expected, but his baiting paid off. The Lady had a temper, not a quick fiery one like his. Her flames kindled slowly before bursting into full form. “Truce.”
Thorton studied him for a few minutes. “No more insults?” she asked, sitting down.
It did not appear she held a grudge for long, Blake decided. But then he had already confirmed she was not quite right in the head. Now, she thought him insulting. In truth, he had not even come close. He could feel her watching, but was unsure if he could trust his wayward tongue so gave a slight nod.
“I'm so glad.” She gave him a teasing smile. “Arguing and fussing is not good for digestion. And besides, I hate to bicker.”
The slight pressure his teeth applied to his tongue kept his immediate words from bursting forward. The smile she gave him was that of a well-fed feline who had devoured her unsuspecting prey. He motioned for the so-far silent Griggs to refill his glass.
Thorton took encouragement from his silence. “I know you think I'm unorthodox. In this day and age, honesty is a rarity, and you may find sometimes I can't help what slips out...”
Blake held up his hand and waited for Griggs to leave the room. He was pleased when her rambling instantly stopped. He cut off a bi
te-size piece from his succulent pork, not bothering to look at her. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“You look handsome tonight. Of course, you're probably vain like most men, what with your dark, good looks. Still, I have to say how pleasing you look.”
When Blake's face turned a fatal red, Thorton knew something was wrong. Jumping to her feet, she ran to his side. Her heart halted when she heard his gasping. Not stopping to consider the best course of action, she looked over her shoulder and let out a shrilling scream.
Griggs raced into the room, pushed her aside, and pounded Blake's back.
“Enough,” Blake croaked. It felt as though Griggs was trying to beat out what little life he had left. Raising his glass, he took a sip as he glared at his beautiful attacker. She had run to his side when she realized he was choking. Hell, his ear still rang from her ungodly scream.
In the face of her concern, he almost concluded he might not have heard her right. No ... he'd heard her perfectly. In fact, her words still echoed, vibrated through his body. Had he actually considered liking her quick-wit and spunk? Now, he seriously considered forcibly removing the false look of alarm from her lovely face. She was kneeling at his side, giving her best performance. Abruptly, he came to his feet and glared down at her angelic face.
How shrewd of her not to have shown a sign of disgust for his disfigurement. What a fool he was for his adolescent speculations. The very notion that she did not see the ravishment and destruction had just been a delusion. Nothing more than a fruitless expectation ... a human one ... one he hated. Now he knew the truth. Grabbing the remnants of his pride and courage, wrapping them around him like a cloak of steel, Blake pushed his way past her.
Thorton grabbed the table to keep from falling. She came to her feet, her stunned gaze staring at the now-empty doorway. His look, filled with nothing short of animosity, had unnerved her. Oh, he'd made it clear at their first meeting he didn't like her, wanted her to leave, but what she had just glimpsed shining in his eyes was a different hate than what he had earlier shown.
