Dangerous Beauty

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  Natasha stepped into the room, looking tired and sad.

  “The doctor just left?” Seth asked.

  She nodded in answer.

  He wanted to pull her into his arms, but hesitated. There was an air about her tonight that told him she would not stand for such things right now. Perhaps when he learned what had happened to Elisa, he would understand why.

  Natasha moved to the window and looked out into the night. “Elisa…lost the baby,” she said, keeping her back to him.

  Seth nodded. The news was not unexpected after Natasha’s revelation in the front hall, but he felt a grim sadness anyway. Vaughn would feel this loss keenly.

  “What happened, lass?” he asked softly.

  “If you don’t mind, Seth, I’d rather just tell it one time…when Vaughn comes back.” Her tone was remote. Ethereal.

  And still she kept her back to him.

  That was when Seth began his pacing again.

  Later, when the fire had begun to die again, Vaughn came into the room. He looked exhausted and his eyes were haunted.

  He went straight to Natasha and hugged her. Hard. His eyes closed as he rested his cheek against the top of her head and Natasha clung to him just as firmly.

  Seth quelled the tiny voice of protest inside him. Vaughn’s hold was nothing but a friend clinging to another. Finally, Vaughn let her go, and kissed her cheek.

  “How can I thank you?” he asked and his voice was a croak.

  Natasha looked back at him steadily. “By loving Elisa as much as you can.”her.”

  Seth felt another little shock. Something had changed in Natasha this long afternoon. She was facing and dealing with the world like a man—no compromise, no apology and no embarrassment.

  And suddenly his fear rose another notch or two. It was strangling him. He’d ached to know what had happened to Elisa. Now, as the cold fingers rippled down his spine, he would do anything not to hear what Natasha was about to say, for he knew with every superstitious bone in his body that somehow, this matter was his fault.

  Vaughn sighed in response to Natasha’s frank answer and sat down. But he did not sink into the wing chair. He sat on the edge of it, his arms resting on his knees. “Tell me,” he said to Natasha.

  She sat on the sofa opposite him and she, too, sat on the edge and leaned on her forearms. Unlike Vaughn, she kept her knees together under her stained, creased and torn dress.

  In a steady monotone, bereft of emotion, Natasha related the tale of Elisa’s abduction and her pursuit in the carriage. Although she gave few details about how she managed to overcome a coach and driver and drive it herself, Seth still marveled at this incredible feat.

  But Natasha’s narrative continued on, how she had raced along the lonely, narrow path in the park and how they’d found Elisa, a crumpled heap at the base of one of the old yew trees at the southeast corner of the park. They’d only found her because her white dress had glowed softly in the gloaming.

  The two women had been alarmed at the way Elisa’s dress had been slashed open, but Natasha had been more concerned about Elisa’s health. Blood on Elisa’s underskirt had confirmed her fears.

  While the driver blustered about Natasha scaring and shocking his mistresses, Natasha had thrown the horse blanket over Elisa, clambered back up to the driver’s seat and turned the carriage around to race for Vaughn’s home, the nearest haven she could think of.

  A log fell apart with a hiss of sparks, as Natasha finished her tale. On cue, Gilroy appeared and stoked the fire again.

  Natasha sat back, watching him. Seth knew she had more to say that she dared not speak aloud in front of Gilroy. It chilled him. The full meaning of this day would become clear when she spoke again, he knew.

  Finally, Gilroy shut the parlor door.

  Vaughn looked at Natasha. “What is it?” he asked.

  She pulled a folded sheet of parchment from her sleeve and handed it to him.

  “They stuffed this inside Elisa’s dress. I took it before anyone else saw it.”

  Vaughn unfolded and read the small sheet and his lips thinned. He glanced at Seth.

  “What does it say?” Seth asked tiredly.

  Vaughn held it out to him and Seth took it with a trembling hand. He drew in a deep breath and read it.

  Stop the investigation, or else.

  “God in his heavens,” Seth muttered, his voice hoarse. “I feel sick…”

  Vaughn reached up and tugged at his forearm. “Sit down before you fall down, man.”

  Seth sagged onto the sofa. The trembling in his hand had spread throughout his body. “I feel a chill to beat the depths of a Harrow winter…”

  A glass was pressed into his hands. He looked up. Vaughn had risen and poured him a whiskey.

  Seth clutched the glass with both hands and drank. The glass chattered against his teeth. “It’s all because of me, don’t ye see?” he told them both. “My past, my lousy bloody past. The only reason Elisa lies upon that bed up there now is because of me. I should’ve just…stayed away. I should’ve been content with my lot these past fifteen years. Sailed off to Ireland and lived a simple existence. But instead…oh god, instead…”

  He gulped down the last of the whiskey and gritted his jaw as his stomach rolled in protest. He clutched at his temple, where the steady thumping had turned into runaway horses galloping through the halls of his mind, the beat reverberating through his head, each beat a flare of pain. “I should leave this place.”

  Natasha looked over at him. Her eyes were enormous in her pale face. “Why?”

  “D’ye not see that if I stay, I’ll only bring more trouble down upon yer heads?”

  “Natasha is quite right. How will leaving help?” Vaughn asked.

  “If I’m not here—”

  Vaughn shook his head. “This is not your fault, Seth. I will not have you thinking it is.”

  “Yes, it bloody is!” Seth stood, facing him. “Don’t go giving me any of the blarney about fate and all that rubbish, because the only reason—the only reason this happened was because I talked you into investigating that black bloody night in Harrow, fifteen years ago. D’ye not know how much I wish that night hadn’t happened? How much I wish I’d stayed nice and cozy in my bed that night? D’ye not understand how much I regret the last fifteen years, how much I—” He couldn’t help himself. He glanced at Natasha. “How much I wish I could still lay claim to the title that’s rightfully mine? I swore I’d do anything to change all that, but I did not mean this. Never this.”

  “But it’s done now,” Vaughn said softly. “And while your Irish charm might work on the ladies, don’t ever think you talked me into doing this. I did it of my own free will.”

  Vaughn took the empty glass from Seth’s nerveless hands, crossed the room and poured three drinks. He gave one to Natasha. “It’s neat whiskey,” he warned. “But it will steady you.”

  He handed Seth his glass back. Behind him, Natasha tipped back her glass, swallowing the shot in one mouthful. She put the glass aside with the same gentleness she might return a teacup to its saucer and sat back.

  Vaughn sipped his own drink thoughtfully. “In fact, this note is an encouraging sign, Seth.”

  “And how could that be?” The pounding in his head seemed to be taking away his ability to think, to even speak steadily.

  “We must be digging for information in the right places, or they would not have reacted this way. This is simply meant to push us away from investigating further and to scare you into running away. They’re expecting you to run back to Ireland or perhaps even Australia.”

  “But who are they?” Natasha asked.

  “I don’t know. But I intended to find out,” Vaughn answered.

  “Vaughn, ye cannot—” Seth began.

  Vaughn held up his hand, demanding silence.

  Seth swallowed his protest. He remembered the ruthless expression on Vaughn’s face from their days at Eton, but he’d never seen it so clear and hard before.

/>   “They want us to walk away, our tails between our legs,” Vaughn repeated. “So, we’ll do the opposite. We will step up the investigation. I have twenty-five men at my disposal. I’ll have them sniffing in every corner of England and Ireland before sunrise.”

  “Are you sure, man?” Seth asked, feeling a burgeoning blossom of hope stir in his heart.

  Vaughn met his gaze. His eyes glittered, not with the black, passionate fury that Seth suffered, but a cold, implacable anger. “They’ve pushed the wrong man.”

  * * * * *

  Natasha and Seth walked in the small garden behind Vaughn and Elisa’s townhouse. It was deep night, but still relatively early. Gilroy had sent a man to prepare Vaughn’s carriage to take her home. Soon, the carriage would be at the front door. Vaughn had returned upstairs to be by Elisa’s side when she awoke.

  Seth spoke out of the darkness, breaking the silence that had drawn around them like the night air. “You said that you loved Vaughn once. Do you still?”

  Shocked by the intimate question, Natasha met Seth’s intent gaze.

  She realized, too, that he’d spoken without the brogue—his words had been as stilted and correct as any English lord’s.

  In the dark of the night lit by a small moon, his eyes glowed with a warmth that heated the blood in her veins. He was such a beautiful man, in both spirit and body, this man who had endured so much for a crime he did not commit. The agony he had visibly suffered when he’d believed that Elisa’s misfortune was his fault had softened her heart.

  To return his kindness, she answered his question truthfully and without prevarication. “I love him as a friend. He will always be my dearest friend and so will Elisa.”

  “But you do not desire him?” Again, the proper grammar, the rounded, educated English.

  “No.”

  He watched her, his eyes narrowed a little, gauging her expression. She wondered what he looked for and how he had worked his way into her heart in so short a time.

  The sides of his mouth lifted a little and he nodded. “So tell me how ye came to be engaged to the lad.” Abruptly, his brogue had returned, almost as if he’d relaxed, or let down his guard.

  “Vaughn’s father and my parents are…were, friends, of sorts. His estate in the north adjoins our own, but I did not meet Vaughn until I was eighteen. I heard he’d been sent away from Fairleigh Hall when his mother died, when he was very young. It shocked us all when Vaughn came home after so many years. We had dinner with Lord Fairleigh, Vaughn and Elisa, and Vaughn charmed my father over and then my mother.”

  “But not you?”

  She laughed under her breath. “Of course he charmed me. How could he not? So young and handsome, and gallant. But it wasn’t only his looks and charm that I fell in love with. It was the way he talked to me, like no other man before or since. He asked me a lot of questions and would listen to my answers. Properly. I was not accustomed to that. Not at all. For the first time in my life, someone cared what I thought about.”

  “But he fell in love with Elisa.”

  Natasha shrugged. “Yes, he fell in love with Elisa.”

  “Did he break your heart?”

  Surprised at his intimate question, Natasha lifted a brow. “Yes, he did, but he didn’t do it on purpose. One can’t help whom one falls in love with. I know he would not have deliberately hurt me. If he could have spared me the embarrassment he would have.”

  She paused, then reached for the deeper truth. The harder truth. “I respect him for his courage, Seth. He faced the entire ton and spoke of his love for Elisa and that he intended to marry her. He told them all to go to hell.”

  The slightest hint of smile played at Seth’s lips. “As Vaughn tells it, it was your bravery that saved the day for them.”

  “Really? He said that?” To be thought well of by Vaughn and the man before her gave her a warm glow of happiness.

  He was staring at her. In the moonlight, she could just see his face. Her mouth went dry. She knew that look—the dark, heavy-lidded expression.

  His gaze shifted to her lips and she licked them, suddenly self-conscious. Her heart began to beat more swiftly.

  “You are so beautiful, do ye know that?”

  She spread her torn skirt ruefully and touched her hair. She’d not had time to do anything but pull the front hair up into a crude knot at the back of her head. The rest of her hair hung loose. She would have to fix that before she returned home and spare herself endless questions from her parents. “Even torn and dirty?” she jested.

  “They’re badges of courage, lass.”

  “Are they? I was simply trying to help Elisa because Vaughn could not.”

  “You did what must be done and didn’t turn from the hard task. I’ll remember it all my days.” Seth’s voice was low, with a timbre that vibrated up and down her spine.

  She took a deep breath, searching for the courage he declared she owned and curled her hand around his neck. “Kiss me, Seth,” she murmured, glad of the night that hid her warming cheeks.

  Seth looked startled, then smiled, his white teeth flashing in the dark. “Anything for my lady,” he murmured and swept her into his arms. But she lifted her head the slightest bit and met his lips with her own. She kissed him gently, tentatively and felt his fractional pause. Was he shocked? Pleased?

  She remembered what Elisa had told her and encouraged, she continued to explore. She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, feeling their softness, urging him to open them and he did. “Taking a warrior’s reward, my lady?” he murmured against her lips.

  He smelled of sandalwood and musk, a pleasant scent and she could taste a trace of whiskey on his lips and breath. All of it was overwhelmed by his heat and size, which dominated her thoughts and made her feel weak and very feminine.

  “Hush,” she told him. She brought his mouth back to hers with her hand on his head and pressed herself against him. She liked the feel of him against her, along the length of her body. She closed her eyes and savored the scent of him, the warmth of him, the taste of him. She probed with her tongue, sliding it over his lips and was enchanted with the sensation.

  She let her hand slide down his back, lower, to his tight buttocks. She slipped her hand beneath the coat he wore and laid it firmly over the mound of muscle, spreading her fingers to explore the shape and feel of it.

  Seth jerked his head up, to look at her and even in the dim moonlight she could see a little of his shock. “M’lady, your courage still burns, I see.”

  She smiled a little at him and pulled him tight against her with the hand on his buttock. “You speak truly, Seth.” And her heart gave a great leap as she realized that she could feel him pushing against her—his thick cock. It was a hard lump against her hips that she could feel even through three layers of dress and petticoats.

  She couldn’t help it, she moved her hips a little, to explore the shape of it. Seth gave a great groan and his hands tightened around her waist. “What is it ye intend, Natasha? To drive me mad?”

  Yes, exactly that, she thought, with a wicked mental chuckle. Confidence blossomed in her, along with a hot swirl of excitement. Elisa was right, she could have her revenge. She slanted her head a little and gave Seth a lazy smile. “I merely wanted to kiss you.”

  She heard a cough behind her, from the verandah. “My lady, the carriage awaits,” Gilroy added.

  “Thank you, Gilroy—I’ll be in at once,” she called over her shoulder. She rose up on her toes to kiss Seth one last time and this time, she let her hand slide around his hip to brush lightly across the bulge at the front of his trousers. Even that light touch imparted a sensation of hot, rigid flesh and an answering quiver swept through her.

  Seth sucked in his breath in a gasp.

  A thrill ran through her at the sound. “Good night, Seth,” she bid him and ran lightly for the verandah where Gilroy stood with one of Elisa’s bonnets and a shawl and gloves for Natasha to wear home.

  As Gilroy dropped the shawl aroun
d her shoulders, Natasha looked back. Seth stood still in the moonlight, his hands on his hips, watching her. From her perspective, she could see nothing but dark shadows over his face, but she knew his eyes were narrowed, even as his body pulsed with the shock and tiny touch of pleasure she had given him.

  She hid her smile and moved into the house.

  * * * * *

  Vaughn sat at Elisa’s side, holding her hand as she slept. There was a hot, hard mass of pain sitting in the middle of his chest and he didn’t know how to rid himself of it. The longer he sat, the harder and larger the mass grew. He could feel it building inside him, and he knew that if it continued to build, there would come a moment when he could no longer hold it inside. It would spew from him, in scalding words and violence.

  He almost welcomed that moment—it would bring a small measure of relief from this acid ache. How badly Elisa had wanted this child! They had all welcomed it—even Raymond had come to him and confessed his delight.

  He brushed back a pale curl from her face and she stirred. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times as she focused on him. The pain in her blue eyes made his heart lurch. If only he could take away the hurt.

  “I am sorry, my love,” he said and kissed her gently.

  Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Heedless of the doctor’s advice that she not be moved, he slid onto the bed, pulled her into his arms and let her weep.

  He brushed a hand along her spine, as each quiet sob added to the mass in his chest.

  “I will find who did this, Elisa. I swear I will find them.”

  She looked up then, her eyes red-rimmed. “But what about the note? They will kill you if you try.”

  The pain in his chest cracked and split open, sending sharp shards through him. This was the heart of the matter.

  “Elisa, we must do this. You and I…we have faced monsters before this day and together, we found a way past them. Those monsters tried to dictate the course of our lives. They held you outcast and kept your son from you. They tried to keep us apart. But we won through and my love, I would not exchange these last years with you even for the sake of my life. They are far too precious to me.”