Mystified

by Renee Bernard

  But the woman he most wished to assume that title continued to be scarce the following evening. She didn’t show up in the drawing room before dinner, nor did she come down to eat with the family. Chad might have worried that she’d taken ill, but it was more likely she was just trying to avoid him. And while Chad was a patient man, he found that his patience was running out.

  Tonight, he sat next to St. Giles at the dinner table. He seemed rather thick with Lady Samantha’s sister—perhaps he could find out what had happened to the woman he’d proposed marriage to the other evening.

  “Are you headed to Vail’s gypsy wedding tomorrow?” he asked, at a loss for any other way to open the conversation. Of course, most were not inclined to participate in a gypsy ceremony, even if they were invited, but Chad thought it sounded like quite a nice diversion from his current worries.

  “I beg your pardon?” St. Giles said, seeming to snap from a daze.

  “Vail’s gypsy wedding tomorrow. Are you planning on attending?”

  “After attending a gypsy funeral earlier this week, I think I’ve had my fill of the lot.” St. Giles wasn’t in the lightest of moods, but Chad pressed on.

  “You’ve taken an interest in Lady Cassandra, have you not?” he ventured.

  St. Giles leveled him with a pair of storm-gray eyes. “I hardly see why that’s any of your concern.”

  Chad swallowed. He didn’t want a confrontation, but he needed to know more about the woman who had consumed his thoughts for the last five days. “Just curious what you thought about the family.”

  If St. Giles thought anything odd in his asking about the Priske family, he didn’t say so. “Like anyone else, I suppose.” Then he smiled. “Though, Toby Priske reminds me of me at his age.”

  “Really?” Chad had known St. Giles for many years—he was curious what connection he felt with the young boy.

  “Loves tormenting his sisters. Convinced him to leave them alone the first day they arrived.”

  Chad chuckled. “How did you manage that?”

  St. Giles gave a little shrug as he tipped his wine glass to his lips. “Told him his skills were better suited for causing havoc for any fellows chasing after his sisters, instead. It was his duty to keep them safe, and all that.”

  “You weren’t worried about him causing havoc for you?”

  St. Giles gave a mischievous smile. “I’m the one who gave him the idea. He trusts me. Though I would hate to be any other fellow chasing after a Priske sister.”

  Chad choked on the piece of pheasant he’d just put in his mouth. There couldn’t be…it couldn’t have been…

  Good God, had Toby been the door slammer and the acorn thrower? And for that matter, the door locker? Well, he would deal with that tomorrow, but tonight, he had a mission to see a certain redhead, whether she wanted to see him or not.

  “I brought you some dinner, miss,” came Betsy’s voice from outside Sam’s room.

  Of course, this came after she’d shouted at her maid to go away. She didn’t want to see anyone. She was too ashamed of what she’d done, and far too embarrassed to show her face to her relations. Well, not so much her face, but her hair.

  Oh, why had she listened to that beautiful, bewitching woman? She should have known better. She should have left well enough alone! As far as afflictions went, it wasn’t the worst sort to have. She was whole and hearty and sort of pretty, she supposed. Mr. Kendall thought so, it seemed. Or he had thought so. How humiliated she’d be if he ever saw her like this.

  “I’m not hungry,” Sam replied, her tone as morose as she felt.

  “But ya haven’t eaten hardly a thing all day, my lady!” Betsy rushed across the room and placed the tray of food onto the bench at the foot of the four poster. “You’ll waste away to nothing and then I’ll be forced to take in all your gowns. You don’t want to put me through that, do you?”

  She was trying to cheer her up, but Sam didn’t want to be cheered. “I’m sorry, Betsy,” she sighed. “I just don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “Oh, my lady,” Betsy breathed, and Sam could hear the sadness in her voice. “It’s not that bad, really. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “Not that bad?” Sam laughed as she padded to the mirror to look at the disaster that was her hair once again. “Look at me! I look as if I’ve dunked my head in a vat of yellow cheese!”

  Sam stared at her reflection, which consisted of pasty white skin surrounded by hideous orange hair. It was unfathomable that hair could even be this color.

  “No!” Betsy rushed to assure her. “It’s…it’s…”

  “Hideous!” Betsy winced at Sam’s outburst. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so agitated. I’m just angry with myself for falling for that woman’s promise.”

  “I know, my lady.” Betsy patted her gently on the shoulder. “But it’ll wash out soon, I’m certain. Just have a little patience.”

  Sam nodded and turned away, dragging herself back to the bed where she collapsed with a sigh. “Perhaps I will try to eat a little something,” she said.

  “Atta girl.” Betsy eagerly brought the tray to the bed. “I’ll come back later to check on you, but ring if you need anything in the meantime.”

  Sam looked up at her maid. “Thank you, Betsy.”

  Chapter 20

  Ducking out of dinner early wasn’t nearly as difficult as he’d thought it would be. Shortly after the main course, Chad turned to St. Giles and announced he had a headache and that he was going to skip dessert and all the festivities after. St. Giles looked at him as if he were mad, for what difference did it make to him whether Chad was going to linger about this evening or not.

  So, trying not to draw attention to himself, Chad left the dining room as quickly as he could, avoiding eye contact with anyone along the way. In the corridor, he sucked in a deep breath, realizing he’d been holding it in for quite some time. And then, with determined steps, he set off for the guest wing.

  After a few wrong turns, he finally found himself on Lady Samantha’s corridor, but as he grew closer to her room, her door swung wide open, sending Chad into the window alcove and behind the thick, damask curtain. He peeked through the slit to see a maid bustle out and close the door behind her, then set off in the opposite direction, disappearing into another room—presumably Lady Cassandra’s—further down the corridor.

  Perfect. Heart racing, Chad jumped from behind the curtain and practically ran to her door, looking left and right before barging in and shutting the door behind him.

  “Did you forget—” Lady Samantha cut herself off with a loud gasp, drawing Chad’s attention to the bed. He caught only a glimpse of something orange before she disappeared beneath the covers. “What are you doing here?” she called in a muffled and somewhat panicked voice.

  “You’ve been ignoring me,” he said plainly, getting straight to the point.

  “I’ve been ignoring everyone,” she called back. “Please try not to take it to heart.”

  “Should I not take your rejection of me to heart, then?”

  There was silence beneath the covers, and then, “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Well, that goes without saying, but I had to see you.”

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

  Chad gave a little chuckle. What in the world was she talking about? “Not really,” he quipped back. “All you have to do is pull down the covers.”

  “Yes, but that is never, ever going to happen.”

  Throughout their conversation, Chad had been inching toward the bed, and now he stood at the end, leaning against one of the four posters. “Why not?”

  “Don’t come any closer!” she shouted, clearly sensing his presence.

  “At least offer me an explanation,” he pleaded, wondering what the devil was going on.

  “I can’t.” Her tone had changed from panic to almost a whimper. “It’s far too humiliating.”

  Whatever it was, Chad wasn’t leaving this room unti
l he saw it for himself. Curiosity had truly gotten the better of him now.

  Gently, carefully, he moved to the bed and placed a hand on what he assumed was her back. She jumped a bit, but then went still as a statue. “Come now,” he said in his most cajoling tone, “it can’t be all that bad.”

  “Worse!” she called back. “So much worse than one could ever imagine.”

  “Will you allow me to be the judge?” Now he dared to sit on the edge of the bed, and as her body began to shake with what he assumed were tears, he slowly pulled the counterpane away to reveal…

  Oh, dear God! What had she done? It took all his strength and every ounce of will power not to burst into unmitigated laughter. Her hair! Her beautiful red hair was now the most ungodly shade of orange he’d ever in his life seen. And it was in this moment, this shocking and laughable moment, that Chad realized just how much he cared for this girl.

  “Don’t look at me,” she begged through strangled tears. “I’m hideous.”

  “Oh, my darling girl,” he murmured as he pulled her out of her imitation of a mushroom and gathered her into his arms. “You could never be hideous.”

  She sank against him, sobbing into his evening coat, as he stroked her orange hair. “The woman promised me it would turn my hair just a bit lighter. She promised!”

  The sadness and frustration in her voice made tears smart at the backs of Chad’s eyes at the same time a laugh bubbled in his chest. “What woman?”

  “At the apothecary!” she wailed as a fresh set of tears overtook her.

  Chad held her tighter and rocked back and forth, all while trying to keep his composure. The poor girl had been taken for quite a ride by the apothecary, it seemed. “Well, hopefully it didn’t drain your purse.”

  “That’s the thing,” she said, pulling away all of a sudden and staring up at him with tear-stained cheeks. God, she was beautiful, even with orange hair. “She told me to put my money away. I didn’t pay single penny for the potion.”

  Chad reached up and brushed a tear away with his thumb. “Well, good. And I must say, I’m relieved to hear it wasn’t just me you were avoiding.”

  She stared at him, with her big, brown, watery eyes, and her lip began to tremble again. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “But I want to be.”

  “And what if I said I didn’t want you to be here?”

  “Then I would ask if that were really true.”

  After a long pause, she shook her head. “It’s not true at all.”

  That was all the encouragement Chad needed to press his lips to hers and push her back to the pillows. She went willingly as their tongues intertwined and their bodies molded to one another. God, she was sweet and wonderful, and God help him if she didn’t agree to become his wife. Which reminded him…

  “I’ve figured out who’s been trying to sabotage our budding romance,” he breathed between kisses.

  “You mean…the ghost? Ah!”

  He’d found the sensitive part of her, right where her neck met her collarbone. “You like that, do you?” he teased, just before he pressed another kiss there and then followed it with a bit of tongue play.

  “Oh, Lud,” she mewled. “Don’t ever stop. Please.”

  “But don’t you want to know about the ghost?” he said, still kissing.

  “Not really.”

  Chad had to laugh. He loved that she was losing interest in anything but him. “It’s not a ghost at all…it’s your brother, Toby.”

  At this, Samantha pressed against his shoulders and stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Toby?” she repeated.

  “St. Giles gave him the idea to sabotage us.”

  “St. Giles! But why?” Her brow furrowed with confusion.

  “To keep the focus away from him and Cassandra, it seems.”

  “Why, that little devil!”

  “Which one?”

  “Both of them!” She tried to get up, as if she were going to go and paddle both their hind quarters right then.

  Chad shushed her and held her still. “Toby is fast asleep, and St. Giles is probably attempting to do the same thing I’m attempting to do right now. Only with your sister, of course.”

  “I knew she and St. Giles had embarked upon something of a courtship, but…do you really think he’s there right now?”

  “If not now, then later, for certain.”

  Samantha sighed and her body seemed to sink further into the mattress. “What is it?” he asked, toying with a piece of pumpkin-colored hair.

  “It’s just that I’ve missed nearly two whole days, being cooped up in this room. Normally I like being alone with my books and things, but now I feel as if I’ve missed out on important happenings.”

  An idea sprung to Chad’s mind and he leapt off the bed to sweep her a bow. “Then may I ask that you accompany me to a gypsy wedding tomorrow?”

  Samantha came up to her elbows. “A what?”

  “Your cousin Charlotte is to marry Mr. Adam Vail at the gypsy camp tomorrow.”

  “See?” She shot up and gave a little harrumph. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  She was adorable when she was frustrated. Chad looked forward to getting to know all her moods and expressions. “Will you go with me?”

  “How could I possibly go anywhere looking like this?”

  “Because it is not uncommon for the Romany women to cover their hair,” he replied, feeling rather clever about this idea.

  She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling in the firelight. “They do?”

  He nodded. “They do.”

  “I’m not certain my parents will never approve of me attending such an event.”

  “Surely they will understand your desire to support your dear cousin.”

  “She is the closest I have.”

  “Then you’ll try?”

  She nodded her silly orange head. “I will try.”

  Chad was quite done with talking all of a sudden, now that their plans were settled. He returned to the bed and pressed her down into the mattress again, before taking her lips in a passionate kiss. She was sweet and delightful and he never wanted to stop kissing her.

  Feeling a bit more daring, he caressed her side, which he hadn’t realized until now was rather scantily clad in nothing but a thin chemise. God in heaven, she was driving him mad. Especially when he found her breast, unbound, swollen with intimacy. She moaned when he took the hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth until his mouth grew jealous of his fingers. He pulled away from their kiss as he tugged down the counterpane, exposing her torso and plump breasts to him.

  “You beautiful creature,” he growled before he cupped his mouth over her nipple and then sucked it to a peak. “My God, you drive me mad.”

  She felt the same, clearly, but it seemed she’d lost all powers of speech. Instead, she mewled and moaned and writhed beneath him. Did she know this kind of intimacy? Did she know what pleasures awaited her? Chad was most eager to show her.

  Chapter 21

  If Samantha had any sense left in her body, she would shove Mr. Kendall off her immediately and send him away. As it was, he had kissed her completely senseless, and she could hardly remember her own name just then. Good heavens! His mouth, his hands, the hardness of his body against hers—it was a sensation like she’d never felt before in her entire life. Though she certainly hoped this wasn’t the last time she’d feel it.

  Just now, his mouth was toying with her nipple while his hand caressed the sensitive flesh of her side. At once she wondered how far things might go and if she should stop him. She might have done if she felt any reservations at all, but in this moment, she had none. Her only thought was that she never wanted this to end.

  “I can stop if you want me to,” Mr. Kendall—Chad—said, as if reading her thoughts. Though, by the sound of his voice, it wouldn’t be a terribly easy thing for him to do.

  She grabbed him about the neck and pulled his lips to hers. She kissed him like a bl
asted wanton, and then said, “Never. I never, ever want you to stop.”

  And with that, he kissed her more thoroughly, more deeply than she ever imagined she could be kissed, all while divesting himself of his trousers. Sam wanted to see more of him, and so she tugged and pulled at his cravat until it loosened enough to remove it from around his neck. The shirt was next, finally leaving him bare to her. Sam had never seen a man without a shirt—not even her brothers—and the sight was more than arousing. It was intoxicating. Her eyes couldn’t get their fill of him. She rather thought that if she had to choose only one man to look at for the rest of her life, Chad would be the one she’d most like for the position. All long and lean with finely sculpted muscles rippling down his arms and his torso, his chest hard and firm with a fine dusting of hair that matched what was on his head.

  Sam reached up to touch the springy curls and then splayed her hand across his chest. “Goodness,” she breathed. This was madness, and she’d be ruined before it was all over—goodness, she was practically ruined already! Yet, she couldn’t find the will to stop it.

  When he pressed himself to her again, she could feel his manhood against her belly, and it ignited something fierce and desperate within her. She knew all about that part of a man’s anatomy, but she’d always thought it rather odd, bizarre. And yet, with it pressing against her, it seemed there was only one, natural thing to do with it, and she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

  “Tell me to stop,” he breathed against her ear, but it was clear he’d never be able to. And she didn’t want him to.

  “I won’t,” she moaned back, and that must have been all he needed to hear, for he lifted up a bit and moved so he teased at her opening. “My God!” It was pleasure like she’d never known.