by Amelia Grey
She stood in front of her dressing mirror, combing out the longest, most beautiful hair he’d ever seen. She wore a simple, sleeveless, white cotton shift.
She spun and gasped.
Bloody hell! He still wanted her, knowing she might have played him for a fool as no other person ever had. He still wanted her, and that tore him up inside.
“Race,” she said and threw down her brush and rushed toward him.
He held up his hand, stopping her, hating himself for his lack of control where she was concerned. “Stay where you are, Duchess.”
Her wide eyes searched his face as if she had no idea why he was there.
“But you’re bleeding,” she said.
He looked down and saw several scratches on his chest. One had a long, thin line of blood running down his ribcage.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered. “What happened to you?”
“You are what happened to me, Duchess. I think you drew me to your bed with the pretense of wanting my favors, and all the while you had planned with someone to steal my grandmother’s pearls.” He extended his hand out, palm up. “Hand them over.”
She gasped again. “What?” Her eyes narrowed, and she took a hesitant step toward him, her mouth gaping. “What do you mean, hand over the pearls?” she questioned anxiously. “Don’t tell me you don’t have them.”
“And don’t pretend to me that you don’t know I no longer have them,” he said, louder than he intended, but the feeling that she could have betrayed him in such a manner had hit him like nothing else ever had and his anger burned hot. “Innocence is not looking very good on you right now.”
“Please keep your voice down before someone hears you, and tell me what is wrong. Are the pearls missing?”
A grim chuckle passed his lips. “Not simply missing, Susannah, stolen. I’m finding it hard to believe right now that you don’t know the pearls were taken last night while you had me all wrapped up in your arms and in your bed.”
He was amazed at how easily she managed to look horrified.
“Who took them?”
His eyes locked on hers as he took stock of her shocked attitude. “You tell me. You were the one who invited me to your bed. You must have known I’d hurry over here and leave the door unlocked. Is that why you were so eager for my touch? You knew you would soon have possession of the pearls.”
“You think I had someone take them?” she snapped, anger replacing surprise on her face. “That’s preposterous! Why didn’t you have them under lock and key?”
“I did. Someone picked the lock and took everything in the safe.”
“I can’t believe you think I had anything to do with that,” she said, looking stunned.
Race heard footsteps running down the corridor, and Mrs. Princeton bounded through the open doorway, dressed in a black robe with a white nightcap covering her hair. She gasped and jumped back at seeing him standing in her mistress’s bedchamber with both of them only partially clothed. The air between the three of them crackled with raw tension.
“I heard voices,” Mrs. Princeton said breathlessly, her rounded eyes darting fitfully from Race to Susannah. “Your Grace, what is wrong? What is the marquis doing here? How did he get in?”
Susannah lifted her chin, and after taking in a deep, solid breath she calmly said, “I’m not sure yet, but it appears the marquis rushed through the bramble bushes to get over here this morning because he failed to keep my grandmother’s pearls protected and someone has stolen them from him and of course he believes that thief to be me.”
Mrs. Princeton gasped in outrage again. “How dare you, my lord. The duchess is no thief. I insist you leave Her Grace’s room immediately. You are not properly dressed, and neither is she. You have violated her sensibilities.”
Race didn’t bother to look at Mrs. Princeton but instead kept his gaze firmly fixed on Susannah as he said, “I assure you, Mrs. Princeton, that neither your mistress’s sensibilities nor any other part of her have been violated.”
“I can vouch for the fact the duchess was in her bed all night after she arrived home.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” A rueful chuckle rumbled past his lips. “But quite frankly, woman, I have no more faith in your assertions than I do hers. Now, where are the pearls, Susannah?”
“I do not have them,” she stated again, his rage provoking an equal measure of anger from her.
He eyed her skeptically once more and curtly said, “But you know who has them and where they are.”
“I do not know,” she countered fiercely.
Mrs. Princeton marched between Race and Susannah and faced him like a general before his troops. “My lord, leave this bedchamber immediately. Your being here is highly improper, and you are endangering Her Grace’s reputation.”
“I will handle the marquis, Mrs. Princeton,” Susannah said. “You may go.”
“But Your Grace,” she countered as she swung to face Susannah.
“I understand why the marquis is so upset about the theft that he stormed out of his house like a madman and rushed over here without thought to his appearance. If I had had the pearls in my possession and learned they were stolen from me, I might run out of the house half dressed as well.”
“But he has compromised you,” she said in exasperation.
“If that be the case, nothing can be done about it now. But I believe I’m not fully compromised unless someone other than the three of us learns of this. I would like for you to go below stairs and keep the other servants off this floor until the marquis leaves. Hopefully, what little reputation I have left can remain intact. Failing that, I survived ruin once before and I’m much stronger now than I was twelve years ago.”
Mrs. Princeton didn’t move. She stood rigid with her nose in the air, breathing so heavily her bony chest heaved.
“Do it now, Mrs. Princeton. Blast the saints in heaven, I have been married and I know what a man’s chest looks like, and so do you. The marquis and I have seen each other now, so how long he stays here does not matter at this point. I assure you, contrary to what you might think about him he will not harm me, and the only danger I am in at present is if the servants see him here in my room with us dressed like this. They will spread it to all the gossipmongers in Town. Your job is to keep that from happening, so I suggest you hop to it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Susannah’s companion walked out the door with a huff and so stiff that Race was sure she would have snapped in two if anyone had tried to bend her.
Race took in a deep, raspy breath, feeling calmer than when he arrived. He hated himself for his lack of control where Susannah was concerned, but last night she had moved him like no other woman ever had. After his time in her bed, he was thinking about words like love, forever, and marriage, but today all those words had been stripped away.
It had been so good between them. No, better than good, it had been the best ever. It had been right. For the first time in his life, he thought he’d actually made love to a woman and not just had sex. He’d thought she trusted him to come to her, to satisfy her, and now he was thinking that all the time he was only a means to get what she had really wanted. The Talbot pearls.
The hell of it was he still wanted her. He still had those desperate, unexplained feelings for her, even more than before if that were possible.
“You may say anything you want to me, my lord, but please keep your voice low.”
Race noticed the tilt of her head, the rigid set to her shoulders, and unspent tears brimming in her eyes. Suddenly he felt as if a fist had landed in his stomach. Even if she had duped him, he didn’t want her reputation ruined.
He walked closer to her and quietly said, “You could easily have arranged the theft with Spyglass, Winston, or someone else.”
She held her ground and didn’t flinch as he neared her. �
�I do not have the pearls, but I do find it rather fitting that the man who had stolen pearls in his possession now has had them stolen from him. Leave my room, leave my house, and never come back. You are not welcome here.”
She seemed so resolute, it stunned him. Was he being unreasonable to accuse her? “All right, for now I will. But know this, Duchess, if I find out you do have them, I will follow you to Chapel Gate, or the gates of hell, to get what is mine.”
Without saying another word, Race turned and left her room. He had to sort through his jangle of emotions, and he couldn’t do it in her presence. What little evidence he had pointed to Susannah as being an accomplice, but she had done a good job pleading her innocence.
A heavy knot of anger and confusion radiated throughout Race’s chest and he uttered an oath as he hurried down the steps. He stomped back through the untended garden to the tall hedge. He added fresh scratches to his chest and back as he once again crawled through the man-made hole in the yew, but Race didn’t wince.
If Susannah was involved in the theft, she had wounded him much deeper than the shrub.
Twelve
My Dearest Alexander,
My dear friend Lord Chesterfield always was ahead of his time. This quote proves it. “It is most certain, that the reputation of chastity is not so necessary for a woman as that of veracity is for a man, and with reason; for it is possible for a woman to be virtuous, though not strictly chaste, but it is not possible for a man to be virtuous without strict veracity.”
Your loving Grandmother,
Lady Elder
Susannah felt shattered as she watched Race walk out of her bedchamber, leaving the door open. She couldn’t move. If she did, she would break into a million pieces. How could he believe she would betray him in such a fashion or that she would betray him at all?
She needed to think about what she should do now, but her mind was blank. Her body was incapable of feeling, or moving, so she continued to stand in the middle of her room and simply stare into the empty hallway, willing herself not to fall apart.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before her shoulders sagged, her chin lowered, and her chest heaved with a deep, painful breath.
After her compromising affair with Lord Martin all those years ago, she should have seen this end with Race coming. It seemed as if fate had once again dealt harshly with her concerning men. But how could she have had any idea of what loomed when just this morning she had been so caught up in the rapture of their lovemaking that she felt as if she had finally stepped out of the darkness of the past and into the sunshine of the future?
Even now, after the angry accusations, she still had an overwhelming feeling that they belonged together.
But why?
What made the Marquis of Raceworth so compelling that she still felt love for him in her heart?
Somehow, she had lost her perspective once again and had been fooled by a handsome gentleman. She hadn’t intended to fall in love with Race, but unfortunately that was exactly what she had done.
With her eyes shut, memories of their shared passion spun wildly in her mind, and she had no desire to resist or temper them as she relived every breath, every kiss, and every whisper. She would never forget the strength of his embrace, the thrill of his touch, or the weight of his body on hers. It was the most magical night she had ever experienced.
She now knew that Race had felt none of the loving emotions that had filled and consumed her, lifted her to heights of joy she could never have imagined and would never feel again. To him, she had simply been a woman willing to share her bed with him, therefore proving he was nothing but a rake. But no matter what he thought of her now, she would never be sorry for their night together. He taught her how truly blissful intimacy could be between a man and a woman who desired each other.
She would not beg Race to believe she had nothing to do with the disappearance of the pearls. Susannah had begged only once in her life, even though doing so had gone against every fiber of her being. She had been beside herself with grief over Lord Martin’s rejection after he compromised her. But not even that had compared to the desperation she felt when she learned it had been arranged for her to marry the Duke of Blooming. She had begged her father not to force her to marry the fifty-six-year-old stranger. But her father and the duke came to the conclusion that marriage between Susannah and the duke would be a good match. What she wanted no longer mattered. At that time, Susannah had vowed never again to beg for anything.
Now that she was thinking more clearly, she could see why Race thought every finger on his hand pointed in her direction as being the thief. She had stated plainly she wanted the pearls, and she had asked him to come to her bedchamber the very night they were stolen from him. When she thought about it like that, Race was right; she looked guilty.
Susannah had two choices. She could fall apart, pine for Race, and deride herself for falling victim once again to a charming man unworthy of her love. But she had been down that road before, and that choice would lead her to nothing but greater misery. On the other hand, she could pull herself up for a time and forget what had happened between her and Race last night and accomplish what she had come to London to do in the first place. Get the pearls.
That was definitely the better of the two choices.
As Susannah continued to focus on what had happened, she realized she was wasting precious time. She needed to dress and get busy, as she had a lot to accomplish. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a royal-blue carriage dress, chemise, and drawers. She then went to the washbasin and poured fresh water into the bowl. As the cool, wet cloth touched her heated skin, she realized she understood why Race came to the conclusion she was the thief, but she was still deeply hurt by his anger.
She supposed there was some justification for his belief she had duped him by inviting him into her bed. And perhaps if she had been in his position, she might have concluded the same scenario Race had. Once he had time to think things through, she hoped he would see the improbabilities of her having arranged for the necklace to be stolen on the slight chance his door would be left unlocked.
Susannah pressed her face into the cloth. She mustn’t allow Race to occupy her thoughts any longer. The only important thing was to find the thief. Race was only a distraction to her real purpose in London. Thankfully, he would now be locked away in her heart to be dealt with when she returned to Chapel Gate and presented the pearls to her mother.
At that time, Susannah would logically look at what had happened between her and the marquis, settle it in her mind, and move on. So she had given her heart to and trusted another man who disappointed her. She would live through it, and perhaps in time the heartache in her chest would heal and her extraordinary feelings for Race would fade.
She must discover who had the pearls before they skipped London. But where should she look first: for the pirate, the prince’s representative, or the antiquities dealer? She didn’t know anything about the men, how or where to find them. But she had an idea who might be able to help her, and she had no time to waste.
The pearls had been stolen from her family, and now they had been stolen from Race. It seemed if she wanted them, she was going to have to find them and steal them herself.
The thought of being a thief should be more distasteful to her than it was, but she couldn’t worry about that.
As soon as she finished dressing, Susannah hurried below stairs. From the doorway of the drawing room, she saw Mrs. Princeton sitting at the desk with several pieces of paper in front of her.
“Mrs. Princeton,” Susannah said, walking into the room.
The woman rose quickly and faced Susannah. Her cheeks were pale, her brown eyes uncommonly red and irritated. Her bottom lip shone bright pink as if she’d been biting it.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Susannah winced inside. Perhaps she had been too hard o
n the woman earlier that morning. Susannah knew Mrs. Princeton had been quite upset that she had been forced to leave the bedchamber without the marquis accompanying her, but Susannah couldn’t deal with an irate lover and an irate companion at the same time. She didn’t want or need Mrs. Princeton’s opinion of Race, and she hadn’t wanted her in the middle of their argument.
“I’m sorry you had to witness the uncomfortable confrontation in my room this morning,” Susannah said, moving farther into the room.
Mrs. Princeton blinked rapidly. “Please, Your Grace. I must be the one to apologize to you. I failed you miserably, and I’m so very sorry I was unable to do more.”
Susannah’s throat tightened. “So you were unable to keep the rest of the staff from knowing that the marquis stormed into my bedchamber this morning.”
Mrs. Princeton’s eyes widened. “No, I did that. I immediately sent your maid and the cook out for fresh vegetables and meat for dinner. They’ve just returned, neither of them the wiser. I told Benson to leave at once and go to the stables and prepare your carriage for an outing. I’m certain he didn’t hear anything, either.”
Relief flooded through Susannah. Mrs. Princeton’s efficiency was impressive. “Good. Thank you. I appreciate your quick thinking in accomplishing that. But how did you know I wanted my carriage this morning?”
“I didn’t. But I thought it was worth the few coins to get Benson away from the house quickly.”
Susannah took a deep breath, feeling better that the other servants were not aware of Race’s appearance in her room. There was hope that this scandal would not be spread to every house in London.
“Thank you, Mrs. Princeton. That was clever of you. Your quick thinking may have saved me from ruin. I do appreciate that, and you acted most appropriately.”
Her thin lips quivered, and she held her arms stiffly at her sides. “Yes, Your Grace, but I’m sorry I failed to take proper care of you. I feel I should resign my post so you can hire someone more capable than I.”
Susannah’s heart softened. She’d had no idea that the woman was so distressed over what happened. “Mrs. Princeton, it is not your job to take care of me. You are my companion, not my chaperone.”
