Beyond Love

by Glenda Diana

  “If you were Thorton's guardian since she was a babe, how did you control her for all those years?”

  Lucas laughed. “Easy. She never left Rosewood. But don't mistake me, I have never been in control when it comes to her. She holds her own reins.”

  “What a thoroughly, frightening thought.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I think she's trying to drive me crazy. Perhaps, that is her goal. To push me beyond my limit, to have me locked away in Bedlam.”

  Lucas watched as Blake raked fingers through his hair. Part of him felt sorry for the Baron, for he knew how Thorton could push a person beyond rational thought. But, another part of him didn't feel one iota of pity for Blake. One thing was certain-before it was all said and done, the Baron was going to do some pushing of his own, and when he did, Lucas was going to be there for her.

  “She's just being Thorton,” Lucas assured him. “Give her time. She'll settle in.”

  “If that was supposed to make me feel better, it failed,” Blake sighed. “Come, I'll show you to your room while the old men bicker.”

  “The more I listen to them, the more I begin to like them. It must have been entertaining to grow up listening to that. How come you lack their sense of humor?”

  Blake cast him a side-glance. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “It that what you call it?”

  Blake stumbled to a halt.

  “I said I was beginning to like the old men. I didn't say I appreciated their humor.”

  “You're in on the scheme to help her drive me crazy.”

  Lucas laughed. “She does know how to keep a man on his toes.”

  * * * *

  Within a week of their arrival Blake thought he would go mad with all the people trekking through the house. And he was tired of arguing with Thorton over her new wardrobe. They had sent for London's most popular seamstress to design and procure all the clothing the Baroness of Stonecrest would require.

  Thorton was appalled by it. She argued that there were too many items in a woman's wardrobe and had refused to wear a good number of the needed parts. But Blake handled it in the same manner he handled everything ... he commanded her to wear each one of the undergarments.

  Blake, Roger, and at Thorton's demand, Lucas, were all fitted by Stultz for new clothes. After being pinned and poked, dressed and undressed, all Blake longed for was to return to a quiet life in the country.

  Roger, on the other hand, seemed to change right before his son's eyes. Gone was the sickly man whose clothing hung loosely on his gaunt body. Now stood the man who Blake could vaguely remember from his youth. Roger looked like the rest of the gentlemen of the ton.

  But what worried Blake most was the growing bond between his father and Thorton. The old man seemed to have forgotten Thorton was a Lynwood. Blake was not immune to her charm. Hell, he was in deeper than his old sire. But, it was never far from his mind just who his wife was and how she had become his wife. Each night as he lay beside her, the knowledge was there to plague him. Thorton could drag a man's soul to the depths of purgatory only to have him shout his joy that she had brought him to that point.

  Blake sat back in his leather chair and closed his eyes. That was another problem ... their bed. He thoroughly enjoyed his rights as her husband. She was his addiction. He would ache with a need so great he would search her out, dragging her to their chamber or any dark corner he could find along the way.

  But he still did not trust her. She was like a thief in the night, trying to steal his heart, soul, and mind. She was a goddess, a witch. He wanted her, craved her, no matter how often he reminded himself she was his nemesis.

  “There you are,” Roger said when he spotted Blake in the dark study. “I've looked high and low for you.”

  “What's the matter now?”

  Roger laughed. “I just wanted to tell you that Lucas and I won't be in till late tonight. I'm going to visit some of my old haunts. Going to show the boy around, let him get his first taste of London at night.”

  Blake studied his father. “You seem to be getting chummy with Lucas ... and with Griggs.”

  “Nonsense. The young man needs time away. He sticks to Thorton like a shadow. It ain't good for him.”

  “You noticed? Makes one wonder exactly what their relationship is.”

  “Makes me glad I'm going out,” Roger retorted dryly. “You're in one of those moods again. I'll convey my condolences to Thorton. She'll need them in order to stomach your attitude tonight.”

  “Quite the knight in shining armor,” Blake murmured as he stood. “What makes you think the damsel needs rescuing? Maybe it's I who needs deliverance from her.”

  Roger was just about to tell his son the only thing he needed was a swift kick in his proud arse when Thorton entered.

  Her long red tresses were pulled back in an amber bow, matching her silk gown. She was a vision of loveliness no matter what she wore, from the bizarre costumes she preferred, to her bare essentials. Blake wasn't sure if he should be considered a fortunate man or a man truly cursed.

  “My, you two look exceedingly handsome tonight,” she said as she headed straight to Blake. She placed a small kiss on the tip of his chin. “Good evening, Milord.”

  Roger coughed to cover his laughter. His son could protest all he liked, but Roger wasn't a fool. His son was falling in love with Thorton and it irked Blake to no end. “I'm taking your guardian with me,” he announced, turning away.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “I thought we'd have a nice evening at home. Perhaps play a game of chess or read.”

  Roger cleared his throat. “We've had a week of nights since we arrived. We won't be gone long.” He seriously hoped she couldn't detect his lie.

  Thorton pouted. “I'll tell Cook we have all decided to journey out. Blake and I will join you and Lucas.”

  “No!”

  “Of course we can. Can't we, Blake?”

  “We can't.” Blake shook his head just in case she did not understand.

  “Why not?” she asked angrily. “It would be nice to mingle with others.”

  Blake issued a long, tiresome sigh. “Women are not allowed where they are going.”

  “How rude,” she huffed. When she began pacing, Blake knew he was in for one of her tantrums. She didn't disappoint. “Maybe it's time these haughty, ‘strictly gentlemen’ establishments changed their views concerning the female gender. Maybe they need to be instructed on the proper way of things.”

  “That would be enlightening to us all,” Blake stated dryly. “Instructions coming from the most ‘improper’ female alive.”

  Thorton raised her chin. “I have some senses.”

  “You certainly are not showing them. Apparently you need a translator. My father and Lucas are going out for an evening of, shall we say ... copulation.”

  Thorton's fury instantly died. Her face flamed red.

  “Leave now while she's speechless,” Blake instructed his father. The old man's face had turned as red as Thorton's.

  “Good night,” Roger mumbled, before practically running from the room.

  Blake wished he hadn't been so blunt. Thorton looked like a dejected child with her head bent low and her small hands fidgeting with her skirt. “It's not that bad.”

  Thorton turned on him in fury. “How can you say that? I embarrassed your father. He'll likely not look at me for days, if not forever.”

  “You are a confusion, Madame Wife.”

  “I try not to be confusing.”

  Blake pulled her into an embrace and kissed the crown of her head. “You try, do you?” he murmured against her fragrant hair.

  “It seems the more I try the more confusing I get.” Her hands found their way inside his evening jacket in search of his heated skin.

  Blake groaned when he felt the first touch of her cool fingers against the skin of his stomach. Just one touch from her and his manhood could grow rock hard. She was as insatiable as he was. Blake smiled, in this aspect o
f their marriage, they were evenly matched.

  “Is dinner ready?” he asked, trying to regain some control.

  “Yes, Milord, it is,” Griggs announced from the doorway. He smiled when Blake jumped. “Should I tell Cook you and the Baroness are at the moment ... occupied?”

  “Yes,” Thorton murmured.

  “No,” Blake groaned.

  “Fine, sir.” Griggs shut the door, leaving the couple to their game.

  Blake managed to break free of Thorton's eager hands. “It's time to eat.”

  Thorton reached out for him again. “I'm starving. Let's retire to our room.”

  Blake wanted to throw her over his shoulder and do just that. Did the woman realize just what she was doing to him with her suggestions? He studied her, looking for a sign of falseness. Was it an act, her lustful nature? Did it matter? Mentally he shook his head. He would take what was given and worry about the consequences later. For even though it was treachery, his body still craved for the sweet torture only she could deliver.

  “Thor,” he groaned when she plastered herself to him again. “Cook will be displeased if we let her fine meal turn cold.”

  “She doesn't like me anyway,” Thorton said, trying to get his trouser buttons undone. “Better the food to grow cold than us.”

  “It just makes the joining more enjoyable,” Blake whispered. “All through our meal we can tease each other before retiring to the seclusion of our room.”

  Thorton's hands stopped. “I can't imagine it being any more enjoyable.” Stepping back, she gazed up at him with a puzzled expression. “Are you sure about that, Baron?”

  Blake thought he could lose himself in her molten gold eyes. “Quite sure. We have only just begun our long trek through the dark, lusty, erotic world of lovemaking. Together, we will explore all the corridors. Areas where the fires of hell will be licking at your luscious body. Places where you will feel like a shooting star soaring through the Heavens. There is so much more we have to learn and teach each other.”

  Thorton took a minute to ponder his words. “When you put it that way, I can't help but agree. I definitely think dinner should come first. We will undoubtedly need all the energy we can get before beginning this tantalizing journey.”

  Blake smiled as a light pink blush covered her cheeks. “Take my arm, Madame Wife, and we shall partake of the feast Cook has prepared.”

  Thorton reached out to place her hand on his arm ... then hesitated. “You're not making this up, are you?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.

  “Never.”

  “You've managed to make me curious, Baron.”

  “Curiosity, wonderment, astonishment, all of these emotions will you feel before this night is over,” he whispered as he led her from the room.

  Her fine brow raised quizzically. “We shall see. If...” Her words stopped when she saw Griggs standing a few feet away.

  “Excuse me,” Griggs said, stepping forward. “You have visitors, sir.”

  “Tell whoever it is to come back tomorrow.”

  Griggs hesitated. “Mr. Wellsbrough, Mr. Garrick, and Mr. Waldom, have come to welcome you to Town.”

  Thorton felt Blake's arm stiffen. He wore a chilling expression. “What is it?” she whispered.

  Blake fought the anger pressing down on him. The gentle squeeze on his arm brought his gaze to Thorton. The tender concern shining on her face surprised him. Had she gotten to know him so well? She was remarkable.

  “Nothing,” Blake mumbled. “A few men I haven't seen in awhile. I served with one during the war. I'm surprised they would come to visit.”

  Thorton detected a hard tone in his voice. “Do you call these men your friends?”

  “Some yes, others no. I have known them for many years. Time has a way of changing people.”

  “Not you.”

  “You don't know me.” Blake voice became cutting.

  “I know you better then you think.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “You don't have to see them. Griggs can toss them out on their ears, for all I care.”

  “It would be a pleasure, Milady,” Griggs piped in.

  Blake couldn't believe what he was hearing. Thorton was, in her own way, trying to protect him. His arms came around her and he placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head. “First, I will see what they want, then I will send them on their way.”

  Feeling as if there was nothing else for her to do, she nodded in acceptance. She turned to Griggs. Raw emotion filled the elderly man's face. The look made his normally hawkish face soften. In his way, he was thanking her. Thorton felt her eyes prickle with tears.

  “Where are they?” she asked, giving him a sly wink.

  Griggs tugged at his coat. “The front sitting room, Milady.”

  “Send them to the library.” Standing on tiptoes, she brushed a kiss along Blake's jaw. “Now you have the advantage. Await your guests and I'll inform Cook to keep our meal warm.”

  Blake was amazed at her quick thinking, she was skillful at this game of strategy. Before he had time to thank her, she disappeared through the doors in a fluff of amber silk. Thorton did not know his history with these gentlemen. Why did she seem to care? Shaking his head, he made his way to the library, taking a seat behind his desk.

  Lance Wellsbrough, Alan Garrick, and Neil Waldom. At one time, each had been his friend. Alan was the only one with whom Blake had never argued. But Alan was Lance's closest friend these days. When Blake and Lance's friendship ended, Alan chose Lance's side.

  Looking back, Blake realized just how foolish his and Lance's dispute had been. Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to become chummy with either man, but he could at least show them he held no grudge.

  Then there was Neil Waldom. Blake hadn't thought of Neil in more than three years. He wondered what a serpent like Neil wanted. He hadn't been aware Lance and Alan were friends with Neil. Time had a way of changing everything, Blake thought, but people were the worst lot when it came to changes. Some were like the wind.

  Blake wiped all emotion from his face and took a calming breath when he heard footsteps. Griggs opened the door and ushered in the gentlemen.

  “Will there be anything else, Milord?” he asked in his haughtiest tone.

  “No.”

  Blake's cold, hard gaze ran over each man. They all looked the same, he thought sourly. Lance was tall, broad-chested, brown hair with matching eyes, and he still had an infuriating frown plastered on his face. He had used that ploy for years, trying to chase away fortune-hunting women. The scowl was as much a part of him as the dimple in his chin.

  Alan stood a few inches shorter than Lance and was not nearly as big in build. In some ways he was Lance's complete opposite; instead of wearing a scowl, Alan wore a smile. Rumor said his reddish brown hair and sparkling green eyes hid a devilishly mean temper.

  Of course, Lance was the one who had started the rumor years earlier as some sort of revenge. That was the kind of friendship that existed between the men. They could jest, prank, and slander each other without the least bit of regret or mercy, but no one else dared such liberties. To Blake's knowledge, there was only one thing they had never fought over ... women. Which was the one thing that had brought Blake and Lance's friendship to an abrupt end.

  Blake's gaze moved to the last man. Neil stood at six foot, his lean, wiry frame straight and tall like when he was a soldier. He still wore his arrogance for all to see. His short blond hair curled around his ears. His hazel eyes shone with what Blake took as humor, and his white teeth gleamed in his perfectly handsome face.

  A dreadful feeling washed over Blake ... Thorton. He suddenly had a powerful, uncontrollable urge to shout a warning to Griggs. He wanted Thorton kept out of sight until these men left. He knew he was being foolish, but he had grown accustomed to Thorton believing him attractive. One look at these men and she would see her error.

  “Gentlemen,” Blake finally said. “What an ... unexpected surprise.”

 
Lance was the first to step forward. “Garrick and I heard you were in town. We did not mean to intrude. We can return another time if it would be more convenient.”

  “Wait,” Alan said, his boyish grin in place. “Is the rumor true? Did you get married?”

  “Rumors spread as fast as always in Town,” Blake murmured. “In this case, rumor is right. I've been wed almost two months.”

  “Congratulations,” Lance and Alan said in unison.

  “Thank you.”

  “It was most thoughtless of Garrick and I not to consider there would be others stopping by to welcome you to Town,” Lance said, glancing at Neil. “We should have sent a note.”

  Blake almost smiled over Lance's none-to-subtle way of saying Neil was not with them.

  “It's been a long time,” Neil stated, looking around the room. “Everything looks the same.” His hazel eyes came to rest on Blake.

  “Did you also come to deliver congratulations?”

  “I'd heard you were in Town. I missed the rumor about your wedding, however, but you have my congratulations.”

  Blake didn't buy any of it. These men had never before visited him on his trips to London. Why the sudden interest now? Several answers came to mind; none of them pleased him.

  “I'm honored. Can I offer you gentlemen a drink?”

  Neil laughed. “What sort of visit would this be without the customary drink of peace? Remember, Bradley?”

  Blake poured three glasses of brandy, then leaned back in his chair. “I remember a lot.” He had the pleasure of seeing all three men look ill at ease.

  Alan cleared his throat. “Pour yourself a glass, Bradley, and we'll toast your marriage. Or is it the type of marriage that doesn't deserve a toast? Like poor Henry Hunnington. He wed in order to save his estates. He married a regular hag, he did.”

  “I heard Lady Hunnington keeps Henry on a short leash,” Neil added. “Henry had to sign a contract that she would remain in control of her money before she'd wed him.”