“So sweet,” he whispered against her mouth. Chloe felt his words throughout her body; the blood warmed through her veins and her breasts tautened until they ached. She gasped softly for breath as his tongue swept over her lower lip.
She was drowning in desire…felt with parts of her body she didn’t know could feel.
Merrick’s body reacted with an explosion of desire.
It had been so long since he’d lain with a woman—so long since he’d wanted to. But she wasn’t just some woman, he reminded himself. She was a rare flower and he never wanted her to wilt—never wanted to be the cause of it. By her response to his kiss, timid, but eager, he knew it would be so easy to lay her down upon the bed and take her…but he wouldn’t…not yet.
He wanted her not just willing, but forever.
If he violated her now, she would regret the hastiness of their loving. But if he walked away now, it also meant he couldn’t search her for the ring.
It was a matter of priority.
The ring or Chloe?
Instead of taking it, he would have to coerce it from her…make her want to give it to him. For that, he needed her trust.
Knowing he would pull away after one last taste of her, he drank deeply of her mouth, feeding from the sweet nectar, and then, reluctantly, tore himself away, thoroughly ignoring the throbbing of his loins.
He couldn’t be alone with her tonight.
He couldn’t be trusted, he knew.
Aside from that, he couldn’t trust her to remain in the vicinity of the necklace.
His withdrawal left Chloe feeling both relieved and dashed.
If he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, she might have crumpled at his feet, so dazed was she by his kiss.
“I’m certain you’re not in the mood for an elaborate dinner after the ordeal you’ve been through,” he suggested, sounding suddenly curt. “The carriage will return soon.” He turned her to the door and gave her a gentle shove toward it.
Stunned by his sudden, obvious dismissal, Chloe allowed him to lead her out of the room.
Panic filled her.
She couldn’t leave yet!
She certainly couldn’t leave the cottage without finding the necklace! “Oh, but I’m ravenous!” she lied.
“Not to worry,” he countered. “I’ll see you safely home and then have a meal sent to your room.”
There was absolutely nothing Chloe could say to that. His tone brooked no argument. She hadn’t the first notion what she’d done, but it was evident by his demeanor that he no longer wished her to remain in his presence.
True to his word, it wasn’t long before the carriage arrived—or perhaps it had never left. Chloe was too confused to know.
Lord Lindale saw her aboard, then returned briefly to the cottage. Chloe suspected she knew why, but said nothing as he boarded the carriage and sat in the seat facing her.
He lifted up the rose before settling himself and handed it to her with a slight smile. “This, my love, belongs to you.”
But his look did not match his sweet words.
He’d called her my love.
Could it be that he used sweet words for every woman he knew? That was, for those from whom he wanted something?
Or had he meant it?
Chapter Thirteen
That very night, Chloe lay in bed twirling the rose in one hand, the ring in the other.
The evening had managed to thoroughly confuse her.
It seemed that Ian MacEwen—Lord Lindale—was not at all the man she’d supposed he was. She’d discovered more about him in the past week than she had in all the months she’d been in residence. And what she discovered was that he was full of secrets.
Had his wastrel attitude been entirely an act from the first day she’d met him?
Since his youth, Lindale was said to have had a greater taste for women than he did for his whiskey. Her belly turned at the thought of him wooing other women. It gave her a twinge of some emotion she didn’t dare confess to—jealousy?
Surely not.
Gossip would have it that he frequented every unseemly pub in the vicinity, flouting in the face of propriety. Chloe had to wonder now it if had merely been a cover for…other activities.
Could it be that he hadn’t wanted her presence at Glen Abbey solely because he hadn’t wanted her to unmask him?
Still, something about the situation did not add up.
I’ve wanted you from the instant I saw you…
Could it be true?
His words clung to her brain like the taste of him upon her lips.
At first Chloe had been invited to take her meals in the dining hall, along with Lord Lindale and his mother. Lord Lindale had repeatedly declined to join them, and then, the one day Chloe had not joined them, he’d returned to the table. It had sent a clear enough message to Chloe that she wasn’t welcome and from there on she’d declined to join them. Aside from that, however, he’d never mistreated her. In fact, he’d scarce talked to her. Like Edward, he’d barely acknowledged her presence.
And now he claimed he’d wanted her from the instant he’d spied her. It just didn’t ring true. The fall from his horse had obviously, in truth, rattled his brain.
She inhaled the sweet scent of the rose he’d given her and then set it upon the night table, turning her attention to the ring she held in her hand.
By the moonlight she studied its design. The stone was a richly colored ruby that bore the etchings of a family crest upon its belly. She couldn’t see it now in the dim light, but she knew it was there. The ring itself was gold and it, too, bore intricate carvings that were unfamiliar to her.
Why had he given her the ring to give to Lady Fiona? Would Lady Fiona recognize the jewel? And why hadn’t he simply handed the ring to his mother himself?
Chloe considered her best course of action. Should she give the ring to Lady Fiona? Or should she use it to somehow draw out Hawk?
Chloe fell asleep piecing together a plan.
Lady Fiona took the news well.
She assured Chloe that the loss of the necklace wasn’t her fault, but Chloe felt entirely responsible. She fully intended to see to its return, no matter the cost. She didn’t dare bring up the ring, but Lord Lindale did, indeed, give his mother Chloe’s ring—which only made Chloe wonder if she weren’t mistaken. Perhaps he wasn’t Hawk.
As they sat in the drawing room examining the strange gift, Lindale seemed properly perplexed by the ring’s significance. He scarce looked at her. His mother wasn’t able to shed any light upon it, either, though Lady Fiona cast Chloe a questioning glance.
Chloe’s face burned under Lady Fiona’s quick scrutiny. Judging by her expression, Fiona realized the ring belonged to Chloe. But she never revealed as much to Lord Lindale, and Chloe was beginning to feel Glen Abbey Manor was a house full of secrets.
After Fiona was settled in the garden, Chloe slipped out of the manor and ventured into town.
The one person Chloe knew who’d connected with Hawk was Emily. Chloe sought her out, discreetly sending a lad into the Pale Ale to ask Emily to meet her in the alley.
Emily emerged from the inn almost at once, her slim hips swaying beneath a faded blue dress. Her dark hair was pinned atop her head in a haphazard fashion. She was a lovely girl, not more than seventeen, though she looked and behaved far older than her years. Life had dealt her a brutal hand; the lass had been on the streets since the tender age of twelve.
Emily was obviously quite pleased to see her; she gave Chloe an eager embrace, then stepped back to examine Chloe. She said, without a trace of envy in her voice, “You always look so nice, Miss Chloe.”
Chloe thanked her, but she was anxious to enlist her aid and came directly to the point. “Remember how you told me that you’d met Hawk?”
“Aye,” Emily replied with a wink and a grin, eager for the opportunity to carry her romantic tales of the highwayman.
“I need you to get a message to him for me. It’s very urgent
. Do you think you could do that?”
Emily’s smile faded. She shrugged noncommittally, her expression suddenly uncertain. “Miss Chloe…I don’t know…you know I’m always grateful for your help, but I really don’t know if I should.”
“But you must!” Chloe urged her. If she must call in favors in the effort to find Hawk, she would.
“But he’s like the wind,” the girl said dramatically, waving her hand in a breezy motion. “No one can find him, he must find you,” she explained.
Chloe leaned close to whisper to the girl. “Emily, you must help me. You’re my only hope.”
Emily gave her a troubled look.
Chloe sensed the girl wanted to help, but her loyalties obviously belonged elsewhere. “I’m hoping that with all your…” she searched for a kinder word “…affiliations, you must know someone who knows how to reach him,” she reasoned.
Emily screwed her face. “I don’t know,” she said, but Chloe suspected she knew much more than she was admitting. “But for you, Miss Chloe…I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask,” Chloe said, relenting. “Please tell him that I have something he lost and that I wish to return it.”
Emily’s eyes lit up. “I see, so you want to help him?” she said.
Chloe nodded and withdrew a coin from her reticule as a gesture of thanks. She handed it to the girl. “If you merely try to get that message to him, that is truly all I ask.” Then, to ease the girl’s conscience, she added, “If you cannot, I will not be mad.” But she knew, somehow, by the look in Emily’s eyes, that Hawk would, indeed, get her message.
The carriage wheeled its way through nearly empty streets.
Merrick hadn’t the first notion where he was going, only that he needed to be away from the manor to think.
This town was hardly thriving, he realized. Nary a soul was anywhere to be seen. For that matter, he hadn’t seen Chloe since they’d presented Hawk’s gift to Fiona.
Of course, his mother hadn’t had the first inkling what to make of Chloe’s ring, but something in her expression had given Merrick the impression that she knew far more than she’d let on about Ian’s endeavors. She’d given Merrick a very questioning glance, as though she’d expected Merrick to supply the answer to the ring’s meaning.
Merrick had only given Fiona Chloe’s ring to divert Chloe’s suspicions. Now, he was almost glad that Chloe had stolen the real ring, because he may have just given away the goose if, indeed, his mother knew about Ian’s misadventures.
Chloe, for her part, had been guiltily silent, unable to look at either his mother or at Merrick directly. And she’d fled their presence the instant she was able.
Last night had been the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do…walk away when he’d wanted nothing more than to make Chloe his own.
She was beginning to occupy his every waking thought. He couldn’t think straight anymore. Even his purpose at Glen Abbey had somehow become skewed.
As he passed the inn, a skinny young girl with ratty hair beckoned to him. The look upon her face had been almost desperate, though she was as discreet as possible in her summons. She disappeared into the tavern.
Curious, Merrick rapped upon the carriage roof and bade the driver pull over. A glance into the smoky bar gave him the impression that every male in town was here with his whiskey and a smoke. He took a seat at a table and the ratty-haired girl came quickly to serve him. “The usual, my lord?” she asked him coyly.
Merrick raised his brows. Christ, perhaps there wasn’t much to choose from in this dying town, but Ian certainly hadn’t been picky about the company he’d kept. He nodded at the girl and prayed she was speaking of something other than herself.
She left him at once, returning swiftly with a stout glass of whiskey. The stinging scent of it cleared his nostrils from where it sat upon the table. Damn, but his brother must have a stomach made of stone. He withdrew payment for the girl and she smiled as she bent to quickly whisper something into his ear.
Merrick arched a brow when she was through speaking. “Really?” he asked, surprised.
The girl nodded.
He grinned and crooked a finger at her, luring her closer. “Tell her this for me…”
Chapter Fourteen
Chloe was quite pleased with the way her plan was proceeding.
Obviously she’d been right about Emily. The girl had quickly gotten word to Hawk. The very next day Chloe was to meet him in the grove where he’d robbed her carriage, but she was to come alone, no carriage, no driver.
She knew it wasn’t right to borrow things without asking, but she couldn’t very well tell Lady Fiona what she intended to do. Choosing a mild-mannered mare, one that was older, rarely ridden and wouldn’t likely be missed, she started out of the stables, but not before noting that Lord Lindale’s bay was missing from its stall. But that meant little for a man who was known to carouse the streets at night; he was rarely home at this hour.
Well, it was his life, she told herself. She wasn’t a part of it—nor would she ever be. He’d used her for a purpose and then had cast her away when she was no longer useful.
He’d kissed her and then had thoroughly dismissed her.
It was a good thing she wasn’t some silly miss who aspired only to become someone’s wife. She was too strong to be ruled by a husband. Not that Lord Lindale had wanted anything more than a dalliance.
Nor did it matter.
She wasn’t in love with him.
In fact, she didn’t even like him…
Much.
The problem was—she frowned—she was no longer certain who he was or what he stood for. He’d managed to thoroughly confuse her.
The only person Chloe had ever truly been close to was her father and he was gone now. She’d loved her mother dearly, but her mother had died when she was only eleven. Chloe had no one left in her life, save acquaintances, and that was perfectly fine with her. If one never allowed oneself to get close to someone, one couldn’t be hurt when they were gone.
Chloe didn’t need anyone to make her happy. Her greatest joy in life was the good she could do for others. And to that end, there was no room in her life for a husband who would enslave her to his every wish. Her father had always allowed her free reign, had treated her more as a friend than a daughter. He had joyfully shared his vast wealth of knowledge, completely disregarding her gender. He had acknowledged her mind and her abilities. For that, she was fortunate, indeed.
It was a good thing she never allowed her heart to falter.
The night was dark and once again bore a lowering fog, but Chloe was undaunted. She was determined to discover the truth about Hawk, once and for all.
Upon reaching the grove, she tethered the horse and chose a tree limb to hang the kerchief that held the ring. She wasn’t foolish enough to meet Hawk with the ring on her person, lest he decide to rob her again and keep the necklace and ring, as well, but she fully intended to return it if he produced the necklace. To that end, she’d come early to prepare. After having secured the ring in a place where it wasn’t visible, she hurried toward the road to wait, carrying a decoy kerchief in her hand.
It wasn’t until she reached the road that Chloe began to feel a sense of unease. The night seemed to grow darker by the instant.
And then he appeared as Emily had said he would, like the wind at her back. Though she hadn’t heard him approach, he tapped her upon the shoulder.
Startled, Chloe spun to face him, her heart leaping into her throat.
He’d come alone, as well. His men were either hiding in the woods nearby, or they hadn’t accompanied him at all. Good. In truth, she could only deal with one thief at a time.
He eyed the kerchief in her hand.
Chloe smirked slightly. She’d tethered the horse in a spot far from the road, where he couldn’t possibly have spied her hiding the ring. “It isn’t polite to spy upon a lady,” she admonished him in an attempt to cover her fear.
“We meet again,�
�� he said, and bowed slightly, ignoring her rebuke.
Chloe didn’t return the courtesy.
She’d come to barter, not to trade pleasantries.
“I expected you to come with the constable,” he confessed, and cast a glance about to make certain they were alone. He added, “My thanks to you for sparing me the task of having to dispose of the gentleman.”
Chloe eyed him dubiously. Surely he didn’t mean that he would murder the constable? Still, she took a step backward. “Enough banter,” she snapped with more mettle than she felt. “This is hardly a tea party.”
“Very well.” He glanced once more at the kerchief. “So I’m told you’ve something you wish to return to me?”
Chloe straightened, summoning her nerve, remembering the tales Emily had told of the men he’d supposedly killed.
She shuddered and said a silent prayer that it was, in fact, Lord Lindale standing before her. If not, what might he do if he thought she’d crossed him? Her heart thumped like a hammer against her ribs. She longed to rip off his mask and to expose him at last. She took a fortifying breath and lifted her chin defiantly, gathering her courage. “I would like to propose a trade,” she said.
“A trade, madame?”
Chloe studied him. He was the same height as Lord Lindale and his voice seemed similar, as well—perhaps a wee bit deeper. She wished she could better see his eyes…and his mouth… “Indeed,” she said, wavering in her convictions. “A trade.”
“Let me guess,” he said somewhat sardonically. “The ring for the necklace?”
Chloe nodded. “And something more.”
“Something more?” he echoed, his tone sounding amused. He took a small step toward her.
She nodded a little uncertainly.
Beautiful little vixen.
Merrick knew she was wary of him; he could see it in her eyes. And yet she stood there before him, making demands that most men wouldn’t dare impose.
Tanya Anne Crosby Page 12
