by HELEN HARDT
Her cheeks turned crimson at the sight of us. “My lady, I do beg pardon.”
I smiled. “Please bring the tea in, Hattie. Monsieur Bertrand and I would love to partake of it later.”
Hattie walked toward the table, her gaze cast downward, and set down the tea tray. She turned.
“Hattie dear, do not leave yet.”
She stopped but did not turn around.
“Please, dear Hattie, come here to me. I have told Monsieur Bertrand all about you, and he is very excited to make your acquaintance.”
Hattie turned, her cheeks still crimson, her bottom lip red and pouty.
“Do not be fearful,” said I. “Please, do come to me.”
As Christophe continued to loosen my corset, Hattie moved forward. When I could reach her, I pulled her to me and kissed her sweet red lips.
She sighed into me and opened, giving me her tongue. I still wonder at the differences between men and women, dear Amelia. While the kisses I have shared with men are succulent and amazing, those I have shared with you and now with Hattie are sweeter and gentler, so very innocent. Once she warmed up, we passionately kissed together. She wasn’t wearing a corset, and when Christophe divested me of my own, her nipples hardened against my bosom.
Oh, Amelia, how much I wanted to taste that sweet little quim! But I was determined to let Christophe have his reward that I had promised him a few lessons go.
I broke the kiss. “Dearest Hattie, would you please help me undress Monsieur Bertrand?”
“My lady…”
“Have I ever made you do anything you didn’t want to do?”
“No, of course not, my lady.” She cast her gaze downward once again.
I tipped her chin upward. “And you need not do anything you don’t want to do now,” said I. “You are free to leave. If you want to.”
She trembled beneath my touch. “I do enjoy it when you kiss me, my lady. And…I do not think…I want to leave.”
“Do you find Monsieur Bertrand pleasing to the eye?”
She smiled shyly. “Oh, yes, my lady. He is quite handsome, indeed.”
“I can assure you he looks even better without his garments. Now, would you please help me undress him?”
Hattie ran her tongue over her lower lip. “Yes, my lady.”
Chapter 16
Ally trembled as Evan rose from the bed, fire in his eyes.
“I confess my undying love for you, and you tell me you’re going to marry another man?”
Ally gulped. “Well, I must marry Mr. Landon. He has compromised me. You witnessed it, and so did several others once you punched him.” Her voice shook.
“I compromised you long before that rogue Landon ever laid a hand on you.”
“And what if you didn’t?” Ally said hotly. “What if you were not my first? Perhaps Mr. Landon was.”
His face reddened and his nostrils flared. “How dare you? I know you were a virgin when I took you. I’ve been around the block enough times to know when I’m deflowering a woman. And you told me last night that he hadn’t touched your breasts. Were you lying to me?”
Ally bit her lower lip. “No,” she said shakily.
“You told me you love me.”
She nodded. She could not lie to him about that. “I… I do love you, Evan.” And she did. It had come to her last night, as Mr. Landon’s lips hovered over her breast. She didn’t want him to touch her. She didn’t want anyone touching her but Evan. He invaded her thoughts night and day. She loved him. She could no longer deny it. She no longer wanted to.
She longed to be with him, but she’d made a promise to herself long ago. She would marry for money and nothing else. She had to make sure she, her sister, and her mother were taken care of. Mr. Landon could make that happen.
As much as she loved Evan, he was still a second son—a son with no inheritance. Sophie would say that didn’t matter. No, it shouldn’t, but Ally had gone without for long enough. She wouldn’t risk ending up with nothing. And she would never be a burden on another person, especially not Evan. When Father had died, she, Mother, and Sophie had been supported by Lily and Rose’s parents, the Earl and Countess of Ashford. The Countess was Mama’s younger sister.
Ally had hated being a burden. She would not do it again, and certainly not to someone she loved.
Evan’s eyes still glared, but something new and hollow had invaded them. Sadness?
“You love me, yet you’d marry someone else?”
“You don’t understand—”
He grabbed her wrist. “I understand perfectly. You’re lying to me. You don’t love me.”
“No.” She vehemently shook her head. “I’m not. I would never lie about something like that.”
“But you’d lie about something else? About what then?”
“No, no, no.” That had come out all wrong. “I… I have a plan. I’ve had it in the works for months, and I—” Fear slammed into her when she recalled the ominous note she’d received earlier. It could have two distinct meanings, and she knew not to which it referred. “You don’t want to marry me anyway. I’m not…good enough for you.”
She was right about that. All she’d been through… She was damaged. Part of her head might never be right due to the abuse she’d suffered. She still had nightmares, the horrid dreams she’d probably never shake.
“Not good enough! What the fuck do you mean by that?”
She shook her head, willing the threatening tears away. How many years of her life had she spent berating herself? Her father had blamed both Sophie and her for not being boys, the heir that he wanted. But once her father had died, she had become goal-oriented. She was smart, attractive, strong. She’d make a good partner for the person she chose. And that person would have so much wealth that Ally would never have to worry about anything again.
She’d never thought she would actually fall in love. It had sneaked up on her, invaded her senses, personified in the man with whom she’d felt most likely never to fall in love. She’d always appreciated Evan’s male beauty, his strength, his quiet demeanor. But his seriousness and adherence to convention had racked her nerves.
Here she was, completely in love with this beautiful man, and miracle of all miracles, he seemed to love her as well. She did not doubt his sincerity, and their physical attraction and chemistry was beyond obvious. But what she felt for him went so much further. She felt at one with him—at peace with herself.
And that was a new feeling. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
Part of her was broken. Her father had seen to that. Evan deserved better.
She’d never felt guilty about her desire to marry only for money. She would use her husband, and he would use her as well, for the physical necessities of marriage as well as to bear him children. She had plans to be a good wife. She would be by his side at all social gatherings, looking her absolute best and attending to all social graces. She was prepared to be a whore in the bedroom if that was what he required. She would earn her keep, and she would earn it well. The fact that she was broken in some ways wouldn’t matter because she didn’t need her husband’s love, and he would not have hers.
No, she could never be with Evan.
Evan’s eyes, though still clouded with anger, misted. “Are you going to answer me sometime this century?”
Ally hedged. “I’m not sure how to answer you, Evan. I’ve known for some time that I would never marry for love. There are certain things I may never be able to give you, and you deserve everything.”
“I love you, damn it. You are all I want and all I need.”
Ally shook her head. “You only think I’m what you want. We have a good time between the sheets. Don’t mistake that for love.”
Evan scowled. “You honestly think I could mistake sex for love? You ought to know by now that I am by no means inexperienced in the act. I have had many women, and never have I fallen in love with any of them. I courted your cousin, a beauty by anyone’s standards, yet I could not
fall in love with her. I’ve never said those words to anyone, Alexandra, and I do not say them lightly. However, it appears that you do.”
Alexandra swallowed. She did not say the words lightly either. But she had made a mistake in saying them, even though they were true—most probably the truest words she’d ever spoken. She could not say them again.
“I intend to marry Mr. Landon,” she said, willing her voice not to shake.
“Then leave my chamber,” Evan said, the words like ice.
She stood. In a white haze, she gathered a linen around her, retrieved her garments, and did as he bid.
* * *
Sophie rose, took a light breakfast, and decided to take a morning walk about the grounds of the estate. Graves had informed her that Evan and Alexandra had gone to London, and the mansion was quiet. But Sophie didn’t mind. She was an introvert by nature, quite content in her own company. Though she missed Ally, she found it nice not to have to make constant chatter with her sister.
Sophie adored her alone time. She could go to the conservatory, play the pianoforte, and sing to her heart’s content, not worrying that anyone other than servants might hear. She could sit on the divan for hours at a time with her nose in Mr. Dickens’s latest book and worry not about being interrupted. Or, like this morning, she could enjoy the crisp morning air, the summer blooms, the light breeze as she walked about the grounds, admiring the greenery and the lushness of the scene.
No one followed her. No one was around to follow her. She smiled and opened her mouth to croon one of her favorite ballads.
She jumped when a hand clamped over her mouth.
“Do not scream, my lady. Do as I say, and you will not be harmed.”
Sophie tensed, terror coursing through her. What was going on? She was alone on the estate, and now, with the stranger’s hand over her mouth, she couldn’t scream. Would anyone have heard her anyway? She was far away from the mansion and the stables. Most of the servants were at either of those two places. She had no choice but to do as her captor bid. She was held so fast that she couldn’t turn to see who he was. Her heart beat quickly, wildly, and her knees threatened to give way. The captor forced her forward, and she took jagged steps for another mile or two before they came to a horse tied to a tree.
Before she could get a look at him, her captor blindfolded her, gagged her, and set her upon the horse. He mounted behind her.
Surely someone would see them. Someone would wonder why this man was riding along with a blindfolded and gagged woman. But after riding for a bit, the horse stopped, and Sophie was forced into a waiting carriage.
Now no one would see her or hear her.
Where were they taking her, and why? She shivered, and nausea threatened to overtake her. She couldn’t take a deep enough breath through the gag.
Within a few moments, blackness descended upon her.
* * *
Evan seized with anger. Had he truly thought Alexandra could return his feelings? After what they had shared, how could she be so intent on marrying someone else, especially a rake like Nathan Landon?
Love.
He was near twenty-seven years old, still a young man, but a few months ago he felt it was time to get married, so he had begun courting Lady Rose Jamison. They ended their relationship when they both decided to hold out for real love. Rose had said he would know when he was in love, and she’d been right. It had hit him like one hundred stones. Alexandra. She was a pain in his arse, yes. Headstrong and impulsive, socially inept, disrespectful of authority and convention. But strong, so strong. And intelligent and beautiful. No flower, that one. Evan had been surprised to find that he didn’t want a wilting flower. He wanted an equal, a woman who would always challenge him, a woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. And a woman who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted behind closed doors either.
He had fallen hard. Why had she lied to him? Why couldn’t she have just admitted that she did not love him?
Was it possible that she did?
But if she did indeed love him, how could she even think of marrying someone else?
Alexandra had not had an easy life, he knew, and what he did know probably only scraped the surface. His heart ached for what she had gone through as a child and teenager.
Now, she expected him to go to Nathan Landon and force him to marry her.
It would be easier to cut his heart out with a jagged blade.
But he loved her despite himself, and if Landon was what she wanted—truly wanted—he would get him for her. The rake would marry Alexandra. Evan would make sure of it. And in so doing, he would resign himself to a life of bachelorhood. A life of bachelorhood on the continent, for he couldn’t stay in England and watch his beloved bear another man’s children.
He threw himself on his bed, his heart aching, his body numb. The wild berry scent of her still permeated his bedding. He inhaled, closed his eyes…
A few hours of sleep would do him good. But he only tossed and turned.
* * *
Sophie awoke in a dark room. Her blindfold had been removed, but her gag was still in place. She was lying on a hard cot. Though she tried to scream for help, the gag muffled her words.
She jerked upward when the door of the small room opened. In walked a woman dressed modestly in grey. Her garments resembled mourning clothes. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back severely into a tight bun. She held a tray containing a sandwich and a cup.
“I see you’re up. Good.” The woman set the tray on the table next to the cot. “I have to take your gag off so you can eat. But you’re to say nothing, do you understand?”
Sophie nodded, shaking.
The woman removed the gag. “Here you are. It ain’t much, not what a genteel lady like you is used to, I’m sure. But you reap what you sow, don’t you?”
Reap what she sowed? Sophie arched her eyebrows and opened her mouth.
“I told you, don’t say a word. I’m not interested in what the likes of you has to say. Now eat your luncheon. I’ll be back to clear it later.” She swiftly left the room, locking the door behind her.
Sophie worked her jaw and massaged her cheeks. She ached where the gag had been. In fact, she ached all over, although they had not hurt her, thank goodness. She had taken her share of beatings in her short lifetime, and she wasn’t anxious to begin again. What could they possibly want with her? She truly was nobody.
She was too frightened to be hungry, but who knew when she would be allowed to eat again? The bread was slightly stale and the roast beef flavorless. Still, she forced it down, hydrating herself with the glass of watered-down wine.
How would anyone know she was missing? Ally and Evan were gone in London. No one would notice she was gone until evening, and then it would be too late to do anything about it until the next day. Her eyes misted, and a tear fell. What would become of her?
* * *
Evan banged on the door to Mr. Nathan Landon’s townhome.
The door opened, and a butler appeared. “Yes, sir, may I help you?”
Evan barged past the man. “I need to see Landon. Now.”
“I beg pardon, sir, but the master is still abed.”
“I don’t give a bloody damn if he’s in bed. I will see him now. If you do not get him for me, I will find him myself. I’m sure this huge mansion is full of bedchambers, but if I keep looking, I will eventually find the correct one.” And he’d no doubt find a woman there as well.
“I’m afraid I cannot disturb the master. He left explicit instructions—”
“Did you not hear me, man?” Evan grabbed the butler’s collar. “I will see him now. And if you think I won’t pummel right through you to get to him, you can think again. He has compromised my stepsister, and I am here to see that he does right by her.”
The man cleared his throat. “Sir—”
“It’s ‘my lord.’ I am Lord Evan Xavier, son of the Earl of Brighton.”
“I beg pardon, my lord. But I assure you, th
e master cannot be disturbed.”
“I assure you that I will physically remove you to get to him. Do you think me incapable of such?”
The mousy man eyed Evan up and down. “I suppose you are more than capable, my lord.”
“I assure you that I am. Now are you going to get Mr. Landon, or should I?”
The butler nodded. “Yes, my lord. Please wait here.” He left the foyer, his heels clicking on the marble flooring.
Evan looked around. So this was what one million pounds could buy. It was huge—marble flooring, sculptures gracing every corner, Oriental rugs, and silk brocade covering the chairs and settee. And this was only the foyer.
It was the money. How had Evan been so blind to the fact? Alexandra had come from near poverty, and the stars she saw when she looked at Landon were not stars at all but pound signs.
Evan paced the large foyer, glancing at the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway every couple of moments. Ten minutes passed, and then fifteen. His anger intensified. What on God’s green earth was taking so damned long?
After a half hour had passed and the butler had not returned, Evan left the foyer and walked toward the large staircase. He walked swiftly upward, passing several shocked maids on the way. He tried all the bedchambers on the second floor, to no avail.
Up to the third floor he strode, walking toward the end of the hallway where ornate double doors stood. Yes, he had found Landon’s lair. He grasped the ornate crystal doorknob, but it didn’t turn. Locked, of course. He clenched his teeth and banged on the door.
“Landon, goddamn it, open the door this fucking minute.”
Nothing.
“I’m not kidding, Landon. I will kick the door down myself if you do not open it.”
Evan clenched his teeth and tensed his muscles, ready to give the door a swift kick, when it opened. Nathan Landon stood there, wearing nothing but a red silk robe.
