The Temptation of a Gentleman

by Jenna Petersen

  “Good night, daughter.”

  He turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. With horror, she heard him insert the key in the lock. She leapt to her feet and flew across the room, throwing herself against the door. But the lock was already bolted and she was trapped.

  “No!” she screamed against the wooden barrier. “Please, Papa let me out! Don’t do this to me!”

  Her only answer was her father’s footsteps fading farther and farther away down the hall. Marion slid to the floor in a pool, too shocked and in pain to cry or scream or even think.

  Chapter Seventeen

  How long had she been lying there? An hour? Two? Or perhaps only a few moments. Marion couldn’t say, but it seemed as if an eternity had passed since her father had bolted her into her room… her destiny.

  With effort, she pulled herself to her feet and crossed to the mirror at her dressing table. Already her face was red from the two blows her father had dealt her. In an hour or two they would be nasty bruises, reminders of what had been said and done that night.

  Tears collected in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wouldn’t cry. The best thing she could do for herself now was get out and quickly. At any moment Josiah Lucas could barge through her door and all would be lost.

  With deft movements, she put on her boots. As she pushed her hair back into a bun, she surveyed her options. The door was locked, there would be no escape that way this night. Her only other choice was the window. If Noah had come and gone that way, that meant she could do the same.

  Noah. The thought of him made the pain in her heart even greater. He had been so furious when he left her bed, the anger in his eyes had made them a piercing blue that had stabbed into her soul. But even though he was furious, he would surely help her now if she went to him.

  And there was nowhere else to go.

  With a shiver, she pushed the window wide open and looked down. She was three dizzying floors above the hard ground below with not even a bush or hedge to break her fall. If she couldn’t manage to get down by way of the tree, she would probably kill herself in the process.

  “What other choice do I have?” Staying and waiting for Lucas to return home and rape her seemed a fate worse than death.

  With her head pounding from her father’s blows, she slung her foot on to the outside window ledge. It was much narrower than she’d estimated and it felt as if her foot could slip off at any moment. She gripped the shutters and yanked her other foot out.

  “Don’t look down, Marion,” she whispered.

  Focusing on the nearby tree limb, she shivered. Noah made this exercise look easy, even fun, but she could see now just how difficult it was. The limb was a good body length away from the ledge. She had no choice but to jump for it.

  She fidgeted on the ledge, trying to get up the nerve to make the leap. It seemed almost impossible. She had almost decided to give up and go back inside when she thought of Josiah Lucas putting his hands on her, kissing her the way Noah had kissed her just hours before. Her determination returned threefold.

  “One.” She let go of the shutter. “Two.” She measured the distance in her mind. “Three.”

  Marion leapt and hit the tree limb with the entire length of her middle. The impact knocked the air out of her for a painful moment. She scrambled to get a hold on the surprisingly slippery branch and managed only after she’d torn three fingernails on her left hand.

  With her fingertips stinging and her lungs burning, she somehow managed to pull her body up further on the branch. Finally, after several failed attempts, she was able to hook a leg over and found herself sitting precariously, looking down at the earth far below.

  She was trembling as she inched her way toward the main trunk of the enormous tree. Though half her work was done, she still had to get to the ground, and the old trunk didn’t appear to have many foot or handholds.

  She clawed at the trunk for a handhold first, digging her ravaged nails into the wood and hanging on for dear life. Then she dropped a foot down and began the frightening task of finding a place for her boot to rest. Inch by terrifying inch, she worked her way down the tree, pausing when the sweat on her brow dripped down her forehead and into her eyes. But she never stopped for long because at any moment her father or Lucas’s face could appear in the window above and all her plans would be dashed.

  Halfway down, exhaustion began to set in. Her arms grew weak and trembled whenever she paused for a breath and her legs threatened to give.

  “Just ten feet more, Marion.”

  She heard the catch in her voice and hated the weakness that made her so afraid. Firming her right arm’s grip on a branch, she wiped her forehead and nose on the arm of her gown. She was long past behaving like a lady. Just as she was about to continue her flight, her foot slipped. With only one arm supporting her, her fingers lost their grip.

  And she fell.

  She scrambled to grab the tree, but couldn’t get a firm hold. With a twist, a grunt, and a painful crunch, she landed on her left side on the cool grass.

  For a long moment, she was too afraid to move. Too afraid that she wouldn’t be able to, or that a pool of her own blood would seep out if she breathed. With her mind racing, she began to test each limb. Her legs moved and though they ached from the fall, they didn’t hurt like they were injured. The same with her back. Her right arm moved fine and her left…

  “Ouch!” she barked out, biting back a loud curse. A sharp sting of pain through her left arm told her she’d been hurt.

  With effort, she rose to her feet and glanced down at her arm. Though it wasn’t twisted and no bone had pierced her skin, it hurt as though it had been pulled from the socket, then replaced none too gently. But despite that, Marion smiled. She was free.

  With a quick glance at the window high above and the life she was leaving behind, Marion hobbled into the woods toward Noah’s estate.

  ***

  Night was beginning to fade. The moon had already drifted down over the horizon and the sky in the East was turning a soft purple in preparation for the dawn’s approach. Marion had been walking for hours. Normally it wouldn’t have taken so long to cross the three or four miles to Noah’s estate, but between the cold of the night and her arm hurting so much, Marion stumbled more than walked. And at one point her sleep-deprived mind had become cloudy and she’d been lost for half an hour.

  But now she could see Linton Green rising up like a savior in the distance over the treetops. In just a few moments she would be there. Noah would be there. He would help her.

  Shivering and cursing herself for not wearing a heavier gown, she continued forward.

  Thoughts of Noah drove her. She would explain everything to him. She’d make him understand she hadn’t meant to trick him the way he thought. Yes, she’d told Sally to fetch her father to come to her room. But it hadn’t been to catch them in bed, but with the lie that Marion was running away with the Marquis.

  Marion thought her father would open the door and find Noah in her room, at worst kissing her. She’d never thought they would come together so passionately. That Noah would open her body to him with the same gentleness with which he’d captured her heart. And she wanted more. She wanted to feel them joined as they nearly had been when her father had burst in.

  If she confessed all that to Noah, he’d understand that desperation alone had driven her to such an act. He would understand. He had to.

  Her thoughts scattered as she passed through the gate and into the main part of the estate. It was strange that the gate was open, as if the house were expecting an early morning visitor. But it couldn’t be her.

  With a shake of her foggy head, Marion continued forward. Each step seemed more difficult than the last and the door felt like it was moving further away rather than nearer. Finally, her foot hit the first step of the marble stairs and she scrambled up.

  With tears of happiness and exhaustion falling from her eyes, Marion pounded against the hard wood until
her right fist ached. To her joy, she heard a flurry of movement from behind and the lock clicked open.

  On the other side stood Basil York, Noah’s kind butler. He was dressed completely unlike a servant in a long dressing gown and a nightcap. In his hand he held a long club, ready to strike.

  “Noah,” Marion whispered to the wide-eyed man.

  “Miss Marion?”

  Before she could answer, the world began to spin and she sank down to the ground in a heap.

  ***

  Noah dug his heels into Phantom’s sides, hoping the wind rushing against his face would do something to improve his mood. The hours he’d spent at a rundown pub just outside of Woodbury surely hadn’t. Even the buxom serving wench who’d plopped herself into his lap and made him promises of a night to remember had done nothing for him. He’d shoved her aside in favor of another round. It had been a long time since he’d been able to resist temptation like that.

  But it had also been a long time since he really cared for anyone else. He didn’t think he’d ever cared for anyone the way he did for Marion. He was consumed by her. He thought of her every day and all night. And it wasn’t just that he wanted her in his bed. When he saw her it was as if someone had lit a candle in his life.

  But she had lied to him. Not once, but over and over again. Even if he understood her motives, he hated her lack of trust in him.

  He rounded the bend in the road at a hard trot. Up ahead he saw Linton Green in the gathering dawn. Except instead of being dark and still, it was lit up like a beacon calling him home. Light streamed out of most of the windows and he could see shadows of servants bustling around in the chambers above and below. By the position of the sun he knew it was far too early for so much commotion. Something had happened.

  With a few soft words of encouragement, Phantom leapt to full speed, whisking Noah ever closer to home. His heart pounded as all the possibilities rushed through his head. The last time he’d found his home like this his father had died. Could his mother have fallen ill? Or perhaps there had been an accident and one of his sisters was hurt?

  As he rushed through the gate and moved up the drive, he saw a carriage parked in front. He swung himself down before Phantom came to a full halt and ran toward the door just as it opened and the shire’s physician, Dr. Fielding, came down the staircase with Noah’s butler and housekeeper, Basil and Myrna York at his heels.

  “Keep that arm in a sling for a few days and don’t allow her to use it. It’s not a break that I can tell, just a bad sprain,” he said.

  “Oh, yes, doctor,” Mrs. York said with a nod.

  “My Lord!” Basil’s face relaxed with relief as he peered over Dr. Fielding’s head to see Noah running toward the group.

  “Is it my Mother?” He panted for breath, anxiety taking his air more than as physical exertion.

  “No, my lord.” Basil shook his head. “Lady Woodbury is still at her party and is not expected back until late this morning or early afternoon. No, it was Miss Hawthorne who scared us nearly to death just an hour ago.”

  “Marion!” Noah stumbled back a few steps as he shifted his gaze to the doctor. “What happened to her?”

  Dr. Fielding smiled at finally being recognized. “Oh, she had a spill from a tree and a very long, cold walk in the night. But she’ll be fine after a bit of rest. And those bruises on her face should heal in a week or so. I should run along. Don’t hesitate to call on me if there should be any further complications.”

  Noah nodded mutely as he stared at his two servants. Surely they could explain what had happened while he’d been drinking the night away to forget.

  Mrs. York nodded at his pained expression. “She just showed up here, my lord. When she collapsed on the stairs, Basil had one of the footmen carry her up to Lady Audrey’s old room. I felt it would be most comfortable for her.”

  Noah was already pushing past them on a course for his sister’s old bedroom. He climbed the stairs two at a time, driven to find Marion, to see with his own eyes what her injuries were. What the hell had happened? By God, he needed an explanation. One only she could give.

  He burst through the door and came to an abrupt halt when he saw her. She lay on Audrey’s bed, covered by a thick blanket and coverlet to warm her cold skin. She looked small in the massive pile of blankets.

  With stealth, he moved ever closer. When he reached the bed, he sat beside her and stared at her face. The beautiful face he’d been taken with since the first moment he saw her in the woods was now puffy and bruised. Her arm was in a sling, huddled at her side. She was in deep sleep, probably from opium Dr. Fielding had given her. Noah silently thanked the man. He wouldn’t have been able to stand her being in pain.

  Being careful not to wake her, Noah reached out to run his fingertips down her unbruised cheek. She turned her head into his hand. In her sleep she whispered, “Noah.”

  His entire body clenched. Despite everything she’d been though that night, despite all the anger she’d faced from him and probably from her father, she still said his name as if she trusted him to save her.

  “I’m so sorry, Marion.”

  He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. As much as he wanted to stay, he rose to allow her the rest she needed. Later, he would ask her all his questions. Until then, he’d have to piece together what had happened from the accounts of his butler and other servants.

  He shut the door silently, then turned in the dark hallway. Now that he was sure Marion was alive, all his attentions turned to her father. The rage he’d tamped down in her bedroom roared to life. Hawthorne would pay.

  “Basil?”

  “I’m here, sir.” The other man stepped from the shadows with a grim nod. “I thought you’d want my account of tonight’s events after you’d assured yourself Miss Marion is unharmed… for the most part.”

  “Yes. What happened?” Noah’s voice cracked with emotion before he could calm himself.

  Basil looked at him with a sad smile. Noah knew what he saw. The butler had been with his family for years. He’d watched Noah and his sisters grow up. He was sure Basil saw a weak idiot before him.

  “Sir, you look exhausted. Perhaps some strong coffee will do you good. Would you like to speak in the Morning Room? Mrs. York is already preparing some food and drink to warm you.”

  Noah couldn’t help but smile. The kindness of his servants was overwhelming. If Marion couldn’t have found him home, he thanked God she’d found Basil and Mrs. York. Without even asking, he knew they’d treated her with the respect and affection she deserved after whatever ordeal she’d endured. Now he just had to find out what that ordeal was, so he could dole out the proper punishment to her father and to Josiah Lucas.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Drink that up, my lord.” Myrna York topped off Noah’s coffee and gave him a look more befitting a worrying mother than a housekeeper. He smiled at her order then turned his attention back to Basil.

  “Sit down, both of you and tell me what you know.”

  His butler nodded as his wife took a place beside him and began speaking first. “It was about four this morning when I heard a terrible pounding on the front door. I worried something had happened or that we were under siege, so I grabbed my club and told Myrna to wake a few of the bigger footmen. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find Miss Marion standing there.”

  “How did she look?” Noah leaned forward, gripping his cup in both hands. He flashed to that image of her lying on the bed, dark hair hanging around her bruised face. The picture in his head made him wince.

  “Not very well,” Mrs. York interrupted with a frown. “Her face was already bruised and it was clear her arm was causing her pain. She whispered your name and then fainted dead away.”

  Noah turned his head so his servants wouldn’t see how much he’d begun to care for Marion. She had come to the house looking for his help, his protection, and he hadn’t even been there.

  “Continue.”

  Basi
l nodded. “I had Rothschild carry her up to Lady Audrey’s old room, then run for the doctor. I realized summoning him would bring more attention to her being here, but we had no idea what was wrong with her.”

  Again, Noah winced. He hadn’t even begun to think about the ramifications for Marion’s reputation. Of course, Dr. Fielding, who wasn’t known for his discretion, would spread the word that a bedraggled Marion had come to his door in the middle of the night and had spent many unescorted hours in his company. She would be ruined, and not just in the eyes of her father and Lucas.

  “You did the right thing.” He choked out the words. “If she was injured, she needed a doctor, not to have her reputation protected.”

  Basil sighed with relief. “She was in and out of consciousness.”

  “Yes. She said your name very often.” Mrs. York smiled, ever the hopeless romantic. “And she cried out for her father to stop a few times as if she were having a vision.”

  He closed his eyes and measured his breaths. Anger wouldn’t solve this problem. Not yet.

  “And her injuries?”

  “Her arm was weak and hurt her when we were forced to move it.” Mrs. York frowned. “And of course the bruises on her face.”

  “Was she able to tell you how she was injured?”

  His housekeeper’s face fell. “She was lucid from time to time. She mumbled something about falling out of a tree when the doctor asked about her arm.”

  Noah pursed his lips. After years of practice, he was able to scurry in and out of rooms like Marion’s with ease. But the oak outside her window was tall and difficult to manage. She was lucky she hadn’t gotten killed.

  “So, her bruises were from the fall.”

  “No, my lord.” Mrs. York’s whispered reply shocked him back to reality.

  “No?”