Harlequin Historical February 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Texas Ranger's DaughterHaunted by the Earl's TouchThe Last De Burgh

by Jenna Kernan

  ‘I gave my word that I would not leave, for heaven’s sake,’ she said. ‘But you are making me feel like a prisoner.’

  His mouth tightened, and whatever amusement there had been left in his expression, it was gone now. ‘You are. Until we are safely wed.’

  ‘After that it won’t matter, you mean.’

  ‘It will matter. But not in the same way.’

  ‘Because there is no escape, once we are wed.’

  ‘I will do my best to make sure you do not feel the desire to escape.’ His rough voice caressed her.

  A delicious shimmer of desire warmed her, and infuriated her, at how easily she succumbed to his sensual wiles. ‘I wonder if your best will be good enough.’ She bit her lip at the flash of pain in his eyes. She had not meant to hurt him, just to maintain some distance, some control over herself, now he had taken away all her options. Petty, but necessary to her sense of self. Except it wasn’t his fault she found herself in this predicament. He hadn’t so much seduced her as fulfilled her every spinsterish dream and more.

  She deserved whatever fate awaited her, for giving in to those fantasies.

  She made to step past him.

  ‘Wait.’

  She looked up into his handsome face and once more her chest squeezed painfully with the knowledge he would never love her. She forced herself not to care. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  His mouth tightened as if he did not like what he was about to say. ‘I have to leave the house, on an errand of my own.’

  Her jaw dropped. ‘You intend to leave me to my own devices? I am honoured by your trust.’

  His expression became rueful. ‘You will do as I request and remain here or face the consequences. You have agreed to be mine.’ He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

  The possessive note in his voice gave her a delicious thrill low in her belly. A carnal response to the darkness in his voice she could not help. ‘Our agreement is a marriage of convenience. That is all.’

  ‘And as my affianced wife, you are mine to protect.’

  ‘You are the one I need protection from,’ she grumbled.

  He grimaced. ‘Perhaps. But you will not leave the house while I am gone.’

  ‘And if I do?’ she challenged.

  ‘You won’t.’

  He released the door and bowed her in. ‘Have a pleasant afternoon, dear Mary. I will see you at dinner.’ At his side, Ranger wagged his tail, looking up at his master with complete adoration. She knew how he felt, she just hoped she wasn’t quite as obvious. Not when his lordship had nothing to give her in return.

  She entered the room and was surprised when the dog followed her.

  ‘On guard, Ranger,’ Bane commanded.

  Mary swung around. ‘You are jesting?’

  An apologetic look in his eyes, Bane bowed slightly. ‘I am afraid not. Enjoy your afternoon.’ He left.

  ‘This is ridiculous. Bane. Come back here.’ When he didn’t return, she moved to follow him. The dog issued a low growl and lifted its lip, revealing large incisors.

  ‘Down,’ she said firmly.

  The hairs on the back of its neck bristled.

  ‘Bane,’ she shouted. ‘Blast.’ It seemed she was trapped. Again. What sort of game was he playing? She given into his demands and still he didn’t trust her. It hurt. Badly. More than it should, since she certainly didn’t dare trust him.

  The dog watched her with pricked ears, its red, wet tongue lolling from one side of its very large mouth. She knew nothing about dogs and she did not want to put this one to the test. She moved deeper into the room and it lay down across the threshold with its head on its paws, still watching her intently.

  ‘This is too much.’

  The dog whined and thumped its tail on the carpet.

  She once more moved towards the door. The dog growled.

  It seemed she had no choice but to find a book and read until Bane returned to collect his wretched animal. Was this to be her future with this man? Guarded and watched?

  If so, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Yet what was the alternative?

  * * *

  By the time Bane strode through the door, looking wind blown and purposeful, the candles had been lit, a dinner tray provided and Mary was too furious to read a word of the novel in her lap.

  Ranger bounded around his legs in joyful abandon. ‘Down, sir,’ he said, looking at Mary. ‘I am sorry I was longer than I intended. I hope you haven’t been too inconvenienced.’

  ‘Apart from being unable to go for dinner or attend the necessary, I haven’t been the slightest discommoded.’

  Amusement flashed in his eyes, annoying her all the more. ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘I see nothing to laugh about.’

  He sobered. ‘Nor I.’

  ‘Where were you that you must needs leave me here guarded by this animal, a source of amusement for all, especially your cousin Jeffrey?’

  ‘He was here, was he?’

  ‘He came for a book and left without one.’

  He patted the dog’s flank with a heavy hand. ‘Good boy.’

  A footman scratched at the door and Bane looked up.

  The young man coloured. ‘Mr Manners said you asked for me, my lord.’

  ‘Yes, Henry. Please take Ranger to the stables and see him fed, would you please.’

  The dog’s ears pricked and he attached himself to the footman immediately.

  ‘Cupboard lover,’ Bane murmured with a mock glower.

  ‘It’s as if he can understand every word,’ Mary said as the footman left with the dog lolloping along beside him.

  ‘He does.’

  ‘You still haven’t said where you were.’

  He frowned. ‘Among other places, I went to St Ives to arrange a ship’s passage for first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Ship’s passage?’

  ‘To London. The sooner we are married the better. I can arrange for a special licence there.’

  She swallowed. She had thought she had at least two or three weeks before they were wed. Another woman in different circumstances might have been thrilled by his desire for speed. To Mary it felt a bit like staring into a prison cell. ‘Why the sudden rush?’

  ‘I don’t like this house. I never have.’

  ‘Because of the ghost?’

  ‘I thought you too sensible to believe in such nonsense.’

  She sighed. ‘After what happened at the mine, I am not so sure.’

  He gave her a sharp look.

  ‘I had the strangest feeling of someone trying to help me.’

  ‘What? After pushing you down a shaft?’

  It really did sound foolish when he put it like that. ‘You know it has been a long day and I think I would like to retire now.’

  ‘I shall escort you to your chamber.’

  ‘It is not necessary. I can find my way perfectly well.’

  ‘Nevertheless...’ He held out his arm.

  She could either take it or he would follow her. She could see the determination on his face. And something else, a kind of bitter smile, as if he expected her to reject his offer.

  Had other women rejected him, knowing he was low born even though heir to a title? She could imagine they might, in the highest of circles.

  She made to place her hand on his sleeve, but he grasped it and drew her close to his side, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. A public demonstration of intimacy, even though there was no one there to see it.

  It made her feel wanted. A surprisingly warm feeling. It melted her insides, made her want to lean against his strength and let him do with her as he would. And therein lay the danger.

  If she came to rely on his caring too much, she would be heading
for disappointment, so she did her best to appear unconcerned. To appear as if gentlemen escorted her in such a fashion every day of the week.

  ‘What time do you expect we will leave in the morning?’ she asked, feeling obliged to break what felt like far too comfortable a silence as they strolled towards her chamber.

  ‘To leave St Ives on the first tide, we will need to leave here no later than six in the morning. Do you think you can be ready on time?’

  ‘I can. Are you sure we cannot marry from here? I have never set foot on a ship before.’

  ‘Afraid, Mary? I did not think you chicken-hearted.’

  ‘It is the middle of winter. I hear mal de mer can be very uncomfortable.’

  They had arrived at her chamber door and he turned to face her. ‘You are right. But it is the fastest way and, if it is any comfort to you, the weather is set to be fine for the next two days according to the ship’s captain.’

  She could see from his expression that no objection from her was going to change his mind.

  He opened the door to let her in. ‘Thank you, my lord.’ She dipped a little curtsy.

  He gave a short laugh. ‘I can see you would rather hit me over the head with your poker. Thank you for not pressing your objections.’

  ‘I can see it would do no good.’

  He looked surprised. ‘I think you and I will do very well together, my dear Mary.’

  ‘As long as I do exactly as you say.’ She shook her head. ‘I am afraid that, as a general rule, is not in my nature. Perhaps you should think of another way out of this dilemma.’

  ‘There isn’t one.’ His voice lost its teasing note.

  ‘Then I must bid you goodnight.’ She stepped into her room and was astonished when he walked in behind her.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Not letting you out of my sight.’

  ‘I promise you, I am not going anywhere.’

  He gave her a long considering look and then seemed to come to some decision. ‘Before I went to St Ives, I went out to the mine.’

  He reached into his watch pocket with two fingers and pulled forth a few strands of fabric. ‘I found these.’

  She frowned at them.

  ‘Strands of ribbon caught on an iron spike in the wall at the top of one of the deepest shafts in the mine.’ His voice was hard and cold.

  She raised her gaze to meet his and was surprised at the bleakness she saw in those metallic eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a voice as cold as ice.

  She shivered. ‘Sorry that I did not fall to my death?’

  He grasped her arm and pulled her hard against him, looking down into her face. ‘I would not see harm befall you, Mary.’

  ‘Not now we are to be married, at least.’

  He swung away with a soft curse, leaving her wishing he was still holding her and hating herself for that weakness.

  ‘I thought your story was a lie,’ he gritted out. ‘Finding you on the road, heading away from the mine, was all the proof I needed that you were running away.’

  Guilt nagged at her, forcing her to speak the truth. ‘I was. What fool would stay and risk their life?’

  ‘And you are not a fool.’ He let go a short sigh. ‘It wasn’t me who pushed you.’

  A rush of relief rushed through her, followed swiftly by logic and doubt. ‘If not you, then who? Only you benefit by my death.’

  He winced and scrubbed at his chin. ‘I know.’

  ‘Some friend trying to help you? Your friend Lord Templeton, perhaps?’

  Startlement entered his gaze. ‘Why would you say that?’

  ‘You employed his help to seek information about me.’

  ‘Templeton works for the government. He has access to information and informers. He is right now looking for your Mrs Ladbrook. I hoped she might shed some light on what it was my grandfather was up to with this will. I can assure you he was nowhere near the mine yesterday.’

  ‘Then who could it be?’

  ‘Jeffrey.’

  ‘Your heir.’

  ‘A true Beresford, despite his proclivities. A man my grandfather would have preferred over me, without a doubt.’

  Proclivities? She didn’t think she wanted to know. ‘But how would my death benefit him, when it is you who stands in the way of the title?’

  He looked at her for a long moment, as if debating with himself as to what to reveal. He took a deep breath. ‘If you die and I am found guilty of your murder, he will inherit.’

  The air left her lungs in a rush. If this was true, then neither of them was safe. She paced to the window and back. ‘Do you have reason to suspect him?’

  ‘I saw him near the brewer’s dray moments before the barrel broke lose. Someone in this house was making those noises in the room above your chamber and he and Gerald hung around the mine as lads enough to know it better than most.’

  When she looked at him, she saw there was trepidation in his eyes, as if he feared she would not believe him. Did she? Her heart certainly wanted to. But her mind was a whole other matter.

  It sounded logical. But only if he had not wanted her dead. She wanted to believe it, but—

  ‘I think news of our impending wedding made him desperate,’ he said.

  There was something in his tone which gave her pause. He was looking at her so intensely a hot shiver raced down her back. In two quick strides he was across the room. His fingers formed a cage for her cheeks and they were trembling. His expression was dark, almost murderous.

  ‘Bane?’ she gasped.

  ‘I looked into the abyss, Mary. Right into the bowels of the earth. It was impossible that you did not fall to your death.’

  The strain in his husky voice was a tangible thing. It swirled around them like the dark centre of a storm as if he held some deep emotion under terrible control.

  ‘Yet here I am,’ she said lightly, for it was light that was needed. Something to chase away this terrible darkness.

  ‘Yes. Here you are.’ Slowly he lowered his head, his eyelashes shielding his eyes, his mouth hovering above hers, waiting for permission.

  And wanton that she was, she wanted to feel the pressure of his lips against hers, to experience the wild sensations his kisses sent rippling through her body. And why should she not kiss her fiancé?

  She lifted her mouth to his and he brushed her mouth with parted lips, soft, warm, pliable, wooing. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back, hard and demanding, exploring his mouth with her tongue as she had learned so very recently. He growled low in his throat and her pulse jumped.

  She clung to him, tasting, exploring, giving in to riotous sensations. It all felt new again. Exciting. Novel. Not different, but fresh. His hand wandered her back in slow widening circles, while her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape.

  The warm caressing hand stroked her ribs, her buttocks, and the hand at her waist moved to capture her breast, the thumb gently grazing the nipple through her gown until she thought she would go mad with the tension building inside her.

  He was everything she had missed in her life, though she hadn’t known it was lacking. Male heat. Masculine strength. He had the power to stir up all the feminine urges she’d denied. He made her flush with heat from her head to her heels. To feel the blood pumping in her veins and her body thrum with desire was exhilarating.

  It was a kiss that lasted for ever, yet was over too soon. Their lips seemed to cling and on a groan, he tasted her jaw and nuzzled into her neck.

  ‘Once we wed,’ he whispered, ‘you will know nothing but pleasure, I promise.’

  A promise that made her insides clench.

  ‘Right now, though,’ he breathed gently, ‘you need to rest. I will sit here in the chair and watch over you.
’

  ‘To make sure I do not leave?’ She could not help the bitterness in her voice.

  He grimaced. ‘To bed, Mary. Now. Or I cannot be responsible for what I do. I will give you five minutes to prepare and no more.’

  His tone was so dark, so fierce, she undressed quickly and hopped into bed.

  * * *

  A scream. The sound of it echoed in his head. Filled the darkness. He couldn’t see, couldn’t get to her, but he knew they were hurting her.

  ‘No,’ she cried out.

  He struggled wildly in the folds of his coat, which they had pulled over his head. It held his arms pinned to his sides. He was panting, struggling for breath, and the one holding him was laughing.

  This was his fault. He should not have gone to the mine after she forbade him. Should not have lost his temper. Should not have made her come looking for him.

  ‘Let me go,’ he shouted. Tried to shout. The cloth muffled his voice, made it hard to breathe.

  And then they were gone. He fought his way out of his coat.

  Fought to find his way to the sounds of sobbing.

  Free from restraint, Bane shot bolt upright. In a chair. He was watching over Mary, not searching for his mother on a cold Welsh hillside.

  The damned dream had returned. Cold sweat trickled down his back. Why now, when he hadn’t had it for years?

  His gaze sought out Mary. She lay on the bed, still and silent, one arm flung above her head, her beautiful blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders. She looked too delicious for words. Too perfect to be true. And perhaps she was, but he wanted her. And so he would make her his wife in spite of his anger against his scheming grandfather. As long as he kept his distance, didn’t allow himself to form an attachment, the marriage could work to the benefit of both. Oh, yes, he could already imagine the benefits as his body hardened.

  A woman sobbed. Not Mary. His gaze shot to the chamber door. Another scream ripped through the air. His blood ran cold. Desire fled.

  Mary sat up, clutching the sheets to her breasts.

  ‘Its all right,’ he said softly.

  ‘The White Lady,’ she said, her voice trembling, pointing across the room. Bane stared at the apparition floating beside the red glow of the fireplace. Behind the eerie figure was what appeared to be a gaping hole in the wall.