Beyond Love

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Beyond Love Page 16

by Glenda Diana


  “Ahhh, so you defend him as well as you do me.” Blake planted a soft kiss upon her lips. “I was only teasing. It took some time, but I find I like the man ... just a little, mind you. Now, come along.”

  Silently, Thorton went to her closet and picked out her clothing. Sitting at her table, she began brushing the tangles from her hair so she could pin it up. She knew exactly where Lucas had been. Her time had come.

  “I told Griggs to find a maid for you,” Blake said, coming up behind her. It still made him ache when he saw their images together in the mirror. Her with all her beauty, and him with...

  “I don't want one.” Thorton smiled at his reflection, then turned to face him. “You can be my maid,” she said, running her hands up his thighs.

  Blake laughed and stepped out of her reach. “If I was your maid, you would find yourself wearing nothing but the silky skin God gave you. Stop tempting me, you minx, and get on your clothes.”

  * * * *

  Lucas stood at the bottom of the stairs awaiting them. Blake felt unease when he saw the expression on Lucas’ face. When Thorton shivered at his side, he glanced at her. The sight of her enormous gold eyes made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning.

  “Sorry for the interruption, but we need to talk,” Lucas stated. “It shouldn't take long.”

  “Perhaps I should check with Cook and see if she has the menu prepared for me to approve,” Thorton said, turning.

  “Thorton.”

  Lucas’ one word brought her to a stop. Oh, God, her heart cried. What would Blake think? Last night he had gotten so mad at her. What would his reaction be today? She truly wished that the dark hours Blake and she had so recently shared could have lasted longer.

  “I take it this is serious,” Blake said to Lucas, without taking his eyes from his wife.

  “That all depends on how you look at it,” Lucas replied.

  “Perhaps Thorton and I should have a talk first.” Blake led her to the drawing room. As soon as they were alone, he pulled her to him. Silent tears rolled down her face. “Tell me, Thor.”

  She buried her face into his shirt, breathing deeply of his wonderful scent. This was her fault. Last night she should have told him. Instead she had put it off, and now it was too late.

  Lucas coughed from the doorway. Blake jerked up his head. He frowned at the sight of an elderly man standing at Lucas’ side. The man was short, overly round, with a shiny bald head. Blake guessed the man to be in his late fifties.

  “Mr. Anson Crawford,” Lucas said, leading the man forward, “may I introduce Blake Bradley, the Baron of Stonecrest, and his wife, Thorton Lynwood Bradley.”

  “Baron,” Crawford murmured without actually looking at Blake. His gaze was fastened on Thorton. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear,” he said, taking her hand. “Your father said you were lovely, but I see the word does not do you justice. You are a true beauty.”

  Thorton wondered if the man's rudeness to Blake was from fear or plain disrespect. Either way, she wouldn't allow it. “Are you always so rude?”

  Mr. Crawford heavy face turned a bright red.

  “You understand my meaning,” Thorton stated. “Either show my husband the respect he deserves or leave.”

  Crawford turned to Blake. After one quick glance at the hideous scars, he lowered his eyes. “I am your wife's solicitor.”

  “Solicitor?” Blake asked, looking at Thorton.

  “I've been with her family for more than thirty years,” Crawford answered. Turning to a table, he opened a packet he held and sorted through papers. He looked at Thorton. “Maybe it would be best if you left while your husband and I got down to business. I know how boring and confusing business matters can be to pretty little heads.”

  Thorton's watery eyes instantly heated to a boiling point. “Did you hear any tidbits about the Hillermans’ fête?” she asked sweetly.

  Crawford looked slightly confused, but shook his head. “Did something happen?”

  “My wife stays,” Blake stated and guided Thorton to the settee. “Behave,” he whispered.

  “I am sorry I missed the wedding.” Crawford sat down. “But to be honest, I'm relieved at not having to make a journey to Stonecrest. Now, shall we get on with our business? First off...”

  “I hope I'm not intruding?” Roger said from the doorway. Without an invitation, he closed the door and took a seat in a chair. At his son's silent glare, he smiled.

  “Mr. Crawford, this is my father, Lord Roger Bradley.”

  Crawford stood and gave a slight bow before sitting back down. “Can we continue?” he asked, impatience in his voice.

  Blake could not keep his mind on what the solicitor was saying. He was too busy watching Thorton. Her head was bowed; her hands twisted the ivory-yellow silk gown. Whatever this man was going to say had her worked up into a fine dither.

  As Crawford's voice droned on, Blake could not help but wonder if any of this was going to change what was between Thorton and himself. Just last night he had admitted he was falling in love with her. Would this news make him regret it?

  Roger's sharp, in-drawn breath brought Blake's wandering mind back to the present. Roger's face was white, his eyes as wide as saucers. Lucas sat with shock clearly written on his face. Blake had no idea what had caused such a reaction and scolded himself for not paying attention.

  “As I was saying,” Crawford sighed, “it was designed to protect his daughter from being left high and dry, if you get my meaning? Everything is to be shared. I told the Duke it was not the usual way things were done, but he demanded it was the only way she would have security.”

  Thorton took Blake's hand and gazed at him. “I would like to make a few suggestions, Milord. I'll tell you what I would like done. If you disagree, it will be as you say.” Standing, she took the paper from Crawford and handed it to Blake, then slowly started pacing.

  Blake read over the page. It listed her castle Rosewood. A cottage in Devonshire. A chateau in France. A townhouse in London-a house right down the lane from his. She owned not one, but five ships, that sailed from China to America. And fifteen-hundred acres in a place called West Virginia. Blake sat forward, staring at the last bit of property on the list. His gaze raised to Thorton. “Do you know every piece of property on this list?”

  “I had knowledge of only a few. Why?” Thorton stopped pacing in front of him.

  “There's a parcel of land between my property and that of Lord Peterson. For several years I have tried to find out who owned it, without success.” Blake stared up at her.

  Thorton's brow creased in confusion.

  “You own it.”

  Thorton took the paper. Her eyes widened as she scanned the list. Apparently, there were a few things she didn't know about her finances. “This property is to be immediately signed over to my husband,” Thorton told Mr. Crawford. “These others must be worth a fortune. Are they?”

  Blake wanted to groan. She was an heiress, had more money than he did, and didn't even know it. “You said you have plans ... what are they?”

  “I would have them transferred.”

  Blake wondered if he had heard her right. Transferred? To whom? Again, the thought came unbidden to his mind, her one dream. “What would you say if I told you I wanted everything on this list?”

  Thorton sank to her knees before him and smiled. “It's all yours.”

  Blake ran his finger over her soft cheek. “And if I should say do as you please?”

  Her smile widened. “I would give them to Lucas.”

  “No!” Lucas shouted, coming to his feet.

  Thorton never took her eyes off her husband.

  Blake swallowed. Did she need to complete this year of marriage so she could spend the remainder of her life with Lucas? They did not act like a couple in love, but neither did Thorton and he. He was certain of one thing ... he had been the only one to make love to her. He needed her to answer these questions.

  “Care to explain w
hy?” Blake tried to keep control of his rising temper. He was unsure if he really wanted an answer.

  “'Tis simple.” She shrugged. “They should never had been mine. Lucas was the firstborn.”

  Blake released the breath he'd held. Not once had it entered his mind Lucas was her brother. Relief flooded through him so quickly he thought he might pass out. Gathering his wits, Blake looked from Lucas to Thorton. “Would either of you care to explain?”

  “No!” Thorton and Lucas simultaneously replied.

  “How am I to decide, then?”

  Lucas placed his hands on his hips. “There's nothing to decide. Everything belongs to Thorton.”

  Thorton ignored her brother's outburst as she took a seat next to Blake. “All is needed is your approval.”

  “I expect you to explain this mess to me when we are alone, Madame. Do I make myself clear?”

  She gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, Milord.”

  Blake handed the paper back to Crawford. “Whatever my wife wishes to do with these properties is up to her.”

  “I won't accept them!” Lucas bellowed, storming from the room.

  Thorton ached for the pain she knew Lucas was feeling. “I would like all of them transferred to Lucas of Lynwood, except one.”

  “Which one?” Crawford asked.

  “Blake can choose,” she replied, staring at the closed door. “It will be kept for our firstborn daughter.”

  “I can provide for any children we might have.”

  “A mother should have something to give to her girl.”

  “A mother has undying love, which means more than any piece of property,” Blake replied. “But I understand your reasoning. We will keep the cottage in Devonshire. English soil for an English lass.”

  “Thank you, Blake.”

  It took more than an hour for Blake to sign the papers Crawford presented. With the solicitor's departure, Roger also left. Blake and Thorton sat in silence.

  He waited for her to speak. He could not seem to keep his mind from conjuring up images of Thorton heavy with his child. His imagination grew as he pictured a house full of children. He had never given it much thought before; he didn't even know if he actually liked children. But that did not stop the images. He wanted a daughter with Thorton's red hair, a boy filled with spunk and wit like his mother. Damn, he wanted several of each.

  Deafening silence pulled Blake from his musing. “Care to explain?”

  Thorton gave a weary sigh. “Lucas was born ten years before me. It should have been his to begin with.”

  “Go on.”

  “He's a bastard. Does that clarify it?” she said in a near shout.

  “Go on,” Blake repeated, holding back a smile as her protective nature lashed out. He did smile when he heard her mumble a soft “sorry.”

  Thorton took a calming breath. “Instead of the almighty Duke Robert giving Lucas what was rightfully his, he made him guardian over me. I've watched him struggle to ignore the fact that his sire ... our sire ... saw him only as a bastard.”

  Blake pulled Thorton onto his lap. “What did you see?”

  Tears fell from her eyes. “A man ... a brother. Lucas was more of a father to me than our sire. The last time I saw my father was when my mother died. A priest wrote a letter informing me of his death. Lucas is nothing like our father. Not once did he leave me, not even the times when I've made him so mad I thought he would surely turn his back on me.”

  Blake bit his lip to keep from laughing. Had she not driven him to the same kind of madness? Instead of admitting that, he cuddled her closer.

  For a long time, she was silent as she absorbed Blake's comfort. “I was going to tell you everything last night, but when we got to our room ... Well, you got me thinking about other things.”

  “I'm to blame, am I?”

  Thorton smiled. “Could I ask a favor?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Will you find Lucas? He's so upset. He'll not give me the chance to explain why I had to do it. I can't stand the thought of him leaving, maybe never to return. This will undoubtedly sound childish, but I've never been separated from him for long.”

  “You're married now, Thor. And someday, Lucas will find someone with whom to share his life. We all must grow up.”

  “But, not this way.”

  “In return for this favor, will you grant me one?” Blake emphasized each of his words with a caress of his mouth on her soft, white neck. His hands cupped her large breasts, gently squeezing them.

  Thorton pressed into his grasp. With one touch, her husband could set her on fire. “Yes.”

  “If your brother proves hard to find and I do not get in until late, wait up for me.”

  “Forever, if need be.”

  Rising, Blake let her body slide down until her feet touched the floor. His intentions had been to set her from him, but instead he found himself pulling her closer so that no space existed between them. “When I get back, I want the truth on everything. No more secrets between us.”

  She tried not to look startled, and nodded in acceptance. It would be better for her to get it over with, rather than prolong it. But she had one demand of her own to give when he returned. He would have to make love to her, before he heard the truth.

  Blake saw the emotions cross her face and almost ordered her to tell him everything before he left. He shook his head at that rashness. Likely he would need a small reprieve before he heard the rest of her confessions.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  After one last kiss, he released her. With a half-hearted smile, he left. He could not remember a woman ever telling him to be careful. It made him feel warm and, something else, a feeling he couldn't identify.

  It took Blake all day and most of the evening to find his errant brother-in-law. It seemed as though he had been from one end of London to the other, combing the waterfront and every brothel he came across. Finally, he found Lucas at the Harbor Inn. Lucas was sitting in the back of the dark tavern with three lovely wenches. One sat on his lap while the others were positioned on each side of him. Blake hated to interrupt him, but he had his lovely wife waiting at home.

  Blake ignored the gasps from the women as he drew nearer. He was amazed at how easily and how often he forgot exactly what he looked like. Repeatedly, Thorton had told him how handsome he was, he tended to see himself through her eyes.

  “Ladies, if you will excuse us,” Blake said, pulling out a chair. The three women scurried off.

  “I can't say I appreciate your timing,” Lucas said, reaching for his drink.

  “We need to talk.”

  Lucas drained his glass and poured himself another. “Go ahead.”

  “Before you drink yourself under the table.” Blake moved the bottle out of Lucas’ reach.

  “You take a lot upon yourself.”

  “This won't take long. The least you can do is talk to me. I'd appreciate an explanation on certain details.”

  “Come on, let's go,” Lucas said, tossing money on the table.

  Blake was right behind him, and that was the reason he slammed into his brother-in-law's back when Lucas came to a sudden stop.

  Lucas’ laughter echoed down the street. “Does he go everywhere you go?”

  Griggs was standing at the door to the carriage. He gave both men a curt bow.

  “It appears so,” Blake said with a mocking sigh as he climbed into the carriage. Leaning against the soft cushion seat, he studied his brother-in-law. It appeared Lucas was busy with his own thoughts, and not pleasant ones, by the expression on his face.

  “You did not know of Thorton's plan?” Blake said, breaking the silence.

  “If I had, I sure in the Devil wouldn't have brought Crawford to your house. I assumed she was handing it all over to you.”

  “Why? She said she was leaving me in a year's time.”

  Lucas stared directly into Blake's eyes. “By your decision. You're the one that ... Never mind. It all belongs to her.”r />
  Blake's temper got the better of him. “Thorton is the one who suggested a year. She is the one who formulated the plan, and rather quickly at that.” God, how he hated being reminded of her stipulation and of her one wish.

  Lucas stared at Blake, opened his mouth to speak, then clamped his lips shut.

  Blake pushed away his irritation. “Thorton believes the properties and ships belong to you. She says you are the rightful heir to the fortune. To me, all she is trying to say is she values and loves you. Would you throw it back in her face?”

  “I am not the rightful heir. She is. I'm the bastard the Duke produced with some poor besotted maid.”

  Blake laughed at the man's fierce expression. “I know a lot of bastards. Some by birth, others by nature. None of them are the man you are.”

  Lucas opened his mouth, but Blake cut him off.

  “You were a boy when your father gave you the major responsibility of guarding a babe. You stayed with your sister even though you knew she would inherit everything that rightfully should have been yours. Instead of hating her, you became her brother, her companion, and in her eyes, the father she never had.”

  “I thought you said you didn't know much about her?”

  “All I had to do was look in her eyes. The truth is there. At Stonecrest, you told me a lot ... I pieced some of it together. You know, it's most irritating trying to figure out that woman. Most of the time I feel as though her presence has made me completely daft. I seem to find myself floundering from anger to confusion back to anger again.”

  Lucas laughed. “She's been a confusion, an irritation, and a headache since the day she was born. But she's also tender, sweet, loving...”

  Blake hid his smile at the tender look that came to Lucas’ face. “She's worried you might be angry enough to leave her.”

  “Never,” Lucas growled. “She puts me in the same league as our father.”

  That one phrase made Blake understand a great deal. Animosity, bitterness, resentment-these things Lucas felt toward the man who had sired him. Had Blake not seen the same signs, heard the same tone, when Thorton had earlier spoken of her father?

 

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