“I have already told Daniel that I will marry him,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, then ran a trembling hand down his face. He could not believe his ears. He stared at her, hoping she would tell him she did not mean what she said. Yet as the seconds ticked by in silence, he realized she told him the truth. She would marry Daniel. Fury quickly replaced the disbelief.
Unable to look at her a minute longer, he strode for the door, but stopped short of it. “I’ll see that your things are packed. You’ll be on your way to Whitley within the hour.”
* * * * *
Dominic’s country home, Whitley, was a gorgeous, extravagant Gothic manor, made of large gray stones. The manor’s whimsical towers and turrets had reminded Arlie of a French Chateau in a much-loved book.
Although the manor was lovely, the moment Arlie stepped foot into the marble foyer, she knew it missed one very important element—Dominic.
The ride to Dominic’s country estate had been agonizing. She cried for the first few hours, then finally fell into a fitful sleep where she envisioned her life with Daniel. She knew she could do far worse than the handsome American, yet she had a hard time convincing herself that she would ever stop loving her guardian.
Dominic’s grandmother had become a great friend, doing her part to keep Arlie’s mind off of Dominic. They both liked to garden, and often times would spend the better part of the day tending to the roses and rare flowers.
The dowager talked often of the family that once lived together at the old manor. Her eyes would twinkle with laughter at the mention of a young Dominic’s antics, but then she would grow sullen once she brought up her son. Arlie wondered what regrets the older woman had being estranged from the family she loved—yet resented at the same time.
Late one evening Arlie was resting in her room when the dowager entered without knocking and announced they had a guest.
In her heart of hearts, Arlie secretly hoped the guest would be Dominic, but to her chagrin, it was Lord Malfrey, coming to offer congratulations on her upcoming nuptials. The dowager sat in the same room during the visit, working on her needlepoint, though Arlie could feel her gaze upon them.
The moment Lord Malfrey left, the dowager sat her needlepoint aside and plainly remarked, “That man has every intention of making you his lover. You must be wary of men like him, for they wait until you have a ring on your finger, and then charm you until you cannot say no.”
“I will never be unfaithful to my husband,” Arlie replied, meaning it.
The dowager smiled. “Do you love Mr. Butler?”
Arlie could feel her cheeks burn as the older woman stared at her. “I care for him.”
“But do you love him?”
Arlie shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
The dowager let out an unsteady breath. “It is as I thought. Perhaps you should reconsider his offer then.”
How could Arlie tell the dowager that she loved Dominic? That she would never be happy with anyone, save him? And that she could never have him, because she was a lowly commoner and that because of the dowager herself and the rest of the ton’s rules they could never be together, bound in marriage at least.
And Arlie would never be happier with less.
* * * * *
Dominic sat back in his chair and motioned for Joseph to refill his glass.
“My lord, you have had much to drink. Perhaps you would prefer—”
“I would prefer you keep your mouth shut and do as you’re asked.”
Joseph lifted his chin and poured the brandy. “You will get no sympathy from me come morning when you are so sick you can scarcely stand.” Setting the glass decanter down on the corner of the table with more force than necessary, the butler let out an exasperated breath and headed for the door, but just short of getting there he turned. “My lord, if I might—”
“Say it!”
Joseph flinched as though he’d been slapped. “Why don’t you visit her? It has been four weeks and two days, and you are plainly miserable. Perhaps if you just visited her—”
“What good would it do?”
He shrugged. “Maybe she feels as you do. Perhaps together you can come by a solution.”
“I have already asked her to be my mistress.”
Joseph sighed dramatically. “And you are surprised she left you?”
“What more can I do?”
“May I suggest marriage? After all, the way you two have been behaving, she deserves as much.”
Dominic drained the brandy and slammed the glass on the table. “I have no desire to marry. Plus, you know as well as I do that my grandmother would never stand for it. No, Joseph, I cannot marry. Not now, perhaps never.”
“Well then, what do you expect her to do—stay underfoot until you are ready? I think not, my lord. She is a woman who has much to offer a man. She has a combination of youthful innocence and a sweet spirit that can capture the heart of any man. She made you laugh, my lord, a feat unto itself. And her beauty surpasses any I have seen in a—”
“Enough!”
“As you wish, my lord.”
As Joseph shut the door behind him, Dominic thought how long the weeks had been without Arlie. How he missed the sound of her voice, her laughter, her anger, her kisses…her body. He had even gone so far as to visit a brothel with Langley, hoping a warm body would make him forget about Arlie, but instead he’d ended up getting drunk and sleeping it off on a couch.
More than once he had dreamt of Arlie’s wedding. She looked so beautiful in her flowing white gown as young Daniel took her hand in his. Then they were dancing, laughing…so in love. The image shifted to the two of them making love. Arlie’s cries of passion, the look in her green eyes as she stared up at her husband.
A knock at the door brought him abruptly out of his unwanted thoughts.
“My lord, Mr. Butler is here,” Joseph announced from the doorway.
The name of his rival pushed his anger up a notch. “Send him in,” he replied, taking a deep breath just as the young man came in.
“Rochford,” Daniel said with a triumphant grin—one Dominic yearned to wipe from his face. “I have come to ask a favor of you.”
Dominic lifted a brow.
“I would like to visit Miss Whitman at Whitley.”
Dominic opened his mouth, but Daniel held up his hand.
“Before you answer, I would request your presence there as well. In my letters from Miss Whitman, I get the distinct impression that she misses you. I would like to surprise her.”
It disappointed him that Arlie had written to the young man and not himself, yet he couldn’t help be delighted she had mentioned him in correspondence to her fiancé.
“Does she write you often?”
“Only twice.”
“And does she fare well?”
Daniel smiled. “Yes. She says your grandmother is a most gracious hostess. They take long walks together, and Miss Whitman rides every day. Oh, and she particularly enjoys gardening. You made an excellent choice by sending her there. Already the gossips have ceased their chatter.” Daniel clapped him on the back as though they were life-long friends. “So what do you say—will you go?”
Dominic needed little time to think about it. He’d been wanting to go to Whitley for weeks now, and up to that moment had no legitimate reason to visit. Now he had reason: he’d been invited to visit, and he would also serve as chaperone…since Dominic knew his grandmother favored the match, she would do little to deter Daniel.
“When will you be leaving?” Dominic asked.
“Saturday. I plan on staying until the following Monday—unless I’m called back on business before then.”
“I’ll leave tomorrow and give the servants time to prepare for your stay.”
Daniel nodded. “Excellent! I’m hoping this will give us all an opportunity to get closer. I’ve a lot to be sorry about. I know now that I’ve judged you unfairly.”
* * * * *
It took th
e better part of the day for Dominic to get to his country home by horseback, and it gave him the time he needed to prepare himself to see Arlie again.
It had been years since he’d last been to Whitley, and though he’d yearned to return, always he found an excuse to stay away. Now as he entered his country estate, memories of his childhood, particularly times with his mother, came rushing to the forefront.
His mother had been a beauty. A woman devoted to her husband, who had in turn, been a philanderer of the worst sorts. The poor woman tried to keep him from straying by always looking her best and making herself accessible for his short visits. Unfortunately, he proved he was beyond control. He bedded the servants and even Dominic’s fiancée.
He flinched at the memories still as strong now as they had been in the first weeks after the events. Never would he forget the sight that greeted him when he opened the door to his father’s chamber, a place he had always stayed away from until that fateful day.
Having been unable to find his beloved fiancée, Dominic raced through the manor in the hopes to surprise her with the bouquet of flowers he’d hand-picked to celebrate their upcoming marriage. Hearing the unmistakable sound of lovemaking coming from his father’s quarters, he’d ground to a halt. His mother was gone, which meant his father was with another.
Dominic walked silently to the door and pushed it open to find his father having sex with his betrothed, his grunts filling the room along with her soft sighs of surrender. Numb with shock, Dominic had been torn between ripping his father off her, or slamming the door, alerting them to his presence—yet he did neither. He stood watching until they finished and his father rolled off her, his chest heaving from the exertion. His fiancée saw him first, her horror-filled gasp burning in his ears as his father turned to the door. Never in his life would he forget the look on his father’s face—the surprise, then the triumphant smile.
From that moment both his father and his fiancée were dead to him.
He never thought much of his father’s philandering, until as a young man himself, he began to use women in the same manner. He figured if he didn’t give them his heart, then what damage could it do? Two people coming together for sexual gratification couldn’t hurt anyone. Yet when one person loved more than the other, the results were disastrous. In the end it had killed his mother. And his father, though saddened by his wife’s death, took no responsibility. He believed she killed herself because of a mental disorder.
But in truth, she died from unhappiness, knowing she would never be enough woman for a man like her husband, no matter what lengths she went to. Hell, the bastard had had a passion for making others miserable.
Shaking his head of the unwanted memories, Dominic walked down the hallway, passing rooms he had chosen to forget. Despite his effort not to feel any emotion, a wave of sadness and melancholy washed over him.
“My lord, what an unexpected surprise,” a booming voice said from behind him, nearly startling him out of his skin.
He turned to find his housekeeper, Mrs. Mitchell, watching him with a delighted smile on her face.
“Mrs. Mitchell, how are you?”
“I am very well. Thank you, my lord, for asking. I dare say, your grandmother will be most pleased to see you.”
Dominic managed a smile. “I’m sure she will be,” he replied, doubting very much that his grandmother would ever be happy to see him. Particularly in “her” home where she reigned supreme. “Is Miss Whitman at home?”
The woman’s round face split into a wide smile. “Aye, my lord. She is in the garden. How she loves it there. Such a love for flowers I haven’t seen since your dear mother, of course. And she’s such a lovely young lady, so kind and courteous. You’ve done a superior job, my lord, if I should say so myself. And the dowager is quite grateful for her company. She gets so lonely at times, my lord. I wish that you would come more often.”
“I shall certainly try. Now, I would like to see Miss Whitman. Thank you for your help, Mrs. Mitchell.”
Dominic walked through the kitchens, saying hello to the staff before stepping out the back door, wanting to take Arlie by surprise.
For a moment he didn’t see her, then he caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair swept up in an untidy bun. A current of excitement raced through him at the sight of her. Dressed in a plain cotton dress with no corset beneath, she knelt. A streak of dirt ran across her cheek and nose. She had never looked more adorable, digging in the dirt while humming a song, her voice as light as an angel.
She glanced up abruptly, and dropped the spade at her side.
“Hello, Arlie,” he said, walking toward her, and as he did, she slowly came to her feet, brushing the dirt from her skirts.
“I did not know—”
“I thought I’d surprise you.”
“You did,” she tried to smile, but her lips trembled, and he wished above all else to know what she was thinking.
“Daniel asked that I come. He will be here in a few days. He thought it wise that I play chaperone.”
She nodded. “You look well.”
He smiled. “As do you. How do you like it here in Whitley?”
She grinned and he realized how much he’d missed that smile—how desperately he’d missed her.
“Your grandmother has been most kind to me. I’ve enjoyed her company immensely. You have a beautiful estate, and I ride most every day. It is a splendid home you have.”
He was glad she liked it, but a part of him wanted to hear that she hated it and wanted to come back with him. Only then would Rochford Manor be a home again. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I wished I had known you were coming. I would have changed,” she said, her cheeks turning pink under his stare.
“You’ve lost weight,” he said, noticing the stark planes of her face, and the protruding bones at her hips. “Is my grandmother starving you?”
“On the contrary, she all but feeds me herself, but I find that I have no appetite.”
“Are you ill?”
Arlie shook her head. “No.” I miss you desperately, she wanted to say. I want you so badly that I lay awake at night and think back on the nights we made love. And every time I think I’m over you, visions of you with another woman fill my mind, and they drive me crazy to where I can’t eat or even sleep.
“Then what plagues you?”
As if you didn’t know… Oh, but he was a sight for sore eyes. For weeks now she had yearned to see him, but settled with feasting on the family portraits in the hall. Even as a boy he had been handsome, with a look of arrogance and self-assuredness others lacked. Every time she passed one of those pictures, she found it hard to resist the urge to touch it, wishing that it was he in the flesh, rather than oils and canvas. Yet now he stood before her, flesh and blood.
“Lord, how I have missed you,” she whispered, surprising even herself.
His eyes instantly softened and as he took the few steps that separated them, she felt compelled to step back. Why did he have to look so wonderful when she looked haggard? And why had she expected differently?
“I hate how we ended things between us,” he said, his eyes warm. “I want you to know that I have accepted your engagement to Daniel. He is a nice young man and I think he’ll make you very happy.”
Not the words she had been hoping for.
Finding it hard to smile, she simply nodded, her gaze falling to his shoulder, not wanting him to see the hurt in her eyes. Their time apart had done nothing but confirm her as just another one of his lovers—nothing more. “I am glad that you approve of him. He will make me happy.” This time she forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine.
Chapter Thirteen
The two days that followed were hell for Arlie, namely because Dominic was her constant companion. They rode together, ate together, she played the piano for him, and once they even danced while the dowager played for them. Dancing had been the most difficult—standing in his arms, smelling the heady scent of him, so masculine and sexu
al, remembering the ecstasy she’d felt in his arms…an ecstasy that would no longer be, especially with Daniel on his way to Whitley.
The morning of Daniel’s arrival, Arlie had tea with the dowager. The older woman talked about the upcoming nuptials as though it was her own wedding. Since Dominic’s arrival, the dowager appeared younger, and more at ease. From time to time Arlie would glance over at the older woman and see her watching them, a strange expression on her face. Did she guess what had happened between the two of them? Arlie certainly hoped not.
With every day that passed, it had grown more difficult to hide her feelings for Dominic. Arlie wanted Dominic as much as she always did. Now that they’d had time by themselves, far away from London and the ton, her feelings were even stronger. The knowledge that soon she would be married to a man she didn’t love unsettled her so. She wanted to run far away from everyone and everything.
Arlie closed her eyes. What she wouldn’t give to have her father here now, to hear his advice on what to do.
Lifting her chin, she let out a deep breath. Now she would show Dominic that she could be impartial as well. When Daniel came she would be attentive, loving, kind, and perhaps a little passionate. Maybe she hadn’t given Daniel the chance to stir her desire. She’d been so caught up with Dominic, she had no desire to try. But now—now she was ready.
Hearing a horse approach, Arlie stared out the window, her mouth splitting into a smile as she recognized Daniel. He raced toward the house on the back of a white palfrey. Arlie ran down the steps, anxious to see him again, and hoping to put her fears to rest.
He dismounted and she ran toward him and into his open arms. She needed to know that marrying him was the right thing to do.
“Arlie, it seems like an eternity since last I looked upon your beauty.”
Dangerous Desires Page 17
