‘No.’ The denial was automatic.
His cruel smile returned and he hauled her so close that she could see the night growth of dark hairs shadowing his jaw. ‘What happened to your passion, your willingness to deny your marriage vows?’
She flared in anger. ‘’Tis one thing to give everything to a man who loves you, another to have a man throw your youthful passions in your face and turn them to revenge.’
His mouth thinned into a hard line. ‘You are a fool.’
She saw no love or even liking in his eyes. He watched her with cold determination and it made her hands feel numb with dread.
Revenge, revenge and revenge. Nothing more. He would ruin her for revenge and in the process ruin himself. She would not let him do so.
Her resolve to resist him firmed, and she began to struggle in earnest. She kicked his shin and instantly regretted it as pain shot up her leg. She flung her arms out and at him. He released her waist in time to catch one of her wrists in each hand. He held her effortlessly as she panted from exertion and frustration.
‘I won’t go with you,’ she said between clenched teeth. ‘You cannot do this to me. You will ruin me. Us.’ Bitterness welled up in her. ‘As you very nearly did ten years ago.’
His eyes glinted in what light from the night sky remained. ‘And you have no de Lisle to save you this time. And I would wager in Brook’s betting book that your brother will not do so.’
She bit her lip and looked away, twisting as far to the side as his continued hold on her wrists would allow. He spoke only the truth, no matter that it hurt. This was a night for long-buried truths and long-remembered pain. She wished to inflict some of her own.
‘You are as cruel and self-absorbed as ever. Had you been a different man, my family might have let me wed you.’
She heard his sharp intake of breath and the satisfaction that she had hoped for eluded her. No matter what lay between them, she had never hated him. Far from it.
‘Had I been a rich man instead of a distant cousin that no one expected to inherit, things would have been different. Your family sold you to the highest bidder, a shrivelled-up prune of a man who no more knew what to do with you than a youth faced with his first woman.’
Still more truths. He was determined to strip her of the hard-gained pretense in which she had found refuge. He laid bare between them in the cold night air all their past, even as in the doing he laid waste to any possible future they might have had.
Tears stung her eyes, and she could do nothing to stop them or wipe them away. Her fingers were not hers to command.
‘Let me go,’ she said, trying desperately not to choke and alert him to her turmoil. ‘I promise not to run or give you further trouble.’
His hold loosened, but did not release her.
She heard a rumbling in the distance. It sounded as though a carriage came their way, but there was no light as that which would come from outside lanterns. She chided herself. If this were Perth’s coach, there would be no light for others to see. Her servants would be looking for her.
The carriage came into view, a darker shadow on the road. Perth released one of her hands and stepped into the path of the oncoming vehicle. The coachman’s sharp eyes spotted the Earl and the carriage halted. Without waiting for someone to approach them, Perth thrust her forward, yanked the door open himself and threw her inside.
She landed with a thump and a swirl of skirts that tangled with her legs. The cape that she had lost during her struggle with Perth quickly followed. She tried to get her balance to stand up, only to fall back against the seat when the carriage lurched forward. No sooner had the vehicle started moving than the door opened again and Perth bounded gracefully inside.
Lillith managed to get on to the seat opposite from where Perth deposited himself. Fine leather met her fingertips. Once Perth had been a captain in the Hussars, living only on his army salary. Now he was rich enough to squander money on any toy that took his fancy. Her fingers smoothed over the butter-soft leather. Had he been this rich ten years before, they would not now be sitting here, adversaries, each intent on hurting the other.
She sighed.
No inside lantern was lit, so the interior was too dark for her to see Perth’s face. Yet she felt the energy he projected—an energy that excited her as much as it scared her. He would command her attention and her love, and then he would walk away from her without a backward glance.
A chill ran the course of her back. Without taking her attention off him, she leaned forward and groped along what she could reach of the floor in search of her cape. She found it and hauled it up and around her shoulders, as someone might shield themselves from an attack.
‘Come here,’ he said, his voice soft and dangerous.
Chapter Two
Lillith sat frozen in place.
His command echoed through her mind: Come here. She hugged the cape closer until the soft muslin caressed her cheeks and tickled her nose. It did nothing to ease the cold that seeped into her bones. She bit her lower lip.
‘I think not,’ she managed.
‘We have a long ride, Lady de Lisle—Lillith.’ His voice was low and thick as sweetest honey when he said her name. ‘I think you will come over here sooner rather than later.’
‘You always were arrogant and too sure of having things your own way. Your besetting sins.’
He chuckled deep in his chest, a mirthless sound. ‘And what are yours, milady? Fickleness and faithlessness? I would rather have my own.’
She reared back as though he had slapped her. In a way he had. ‘I do what I must when I must.’
She put all the conviction of her past choices into her words, refusing to let him make her despise herself for what she had had to do. Her family had depended on her. She had saved them. If her own happiness had died because of their need, then it was a price she had been willing to pay, a price she would pay today if need be.
‘You do as you are bid to do,’ he sneered.
Anger flared in her, setting her chest pounding and her blood rioting. ‘You have overstepped the bounds of politeness, sirruh. What I did in the past and what I do in the future is none of your concern. Nor do you have the right to criticise me over something that was no concern of yours.’
‘No concern of mine?’ He leaned forward until she could feel his warm breath on her face. He smelled of cinnamon and cold night air. ‘Who did you leave at the altar?’ A harsh laugh tore from his lips. ‘My twin?’
‘I did my duty to my family. I could do nothing else.’
‘You were sold to save your brother from the River Tick and exile to a continent where Napoleon held reign,’ he said, disgust and loathing dripping from every word. ‘You were nothing but a piece of goods sold to the highest bidder. Unfortunately for me, I was not the highest bidder. I was not even a contender.’
Enough was enough, and she had tired of hearing things that she could not change any more than she could change the position of the stars. She drew herself up and let the cape fall from her shoulders.
‘Are you finished insulting me and my family, for I am certainly tired of hearing you?’
His eyes flashed in the dim moonlight that managed to flicker in through the window, but he said nothing. Instead, he grabbed the cane that lay on the seat beside him and rapped the end on the carriage roof, signalling the coachman to halt. The wheels had barely stopped turning before he was out the door.
Lillith’s sense of victory was fleeting at best. Without Perth she was left to her own thoughts and they were not pleasant. Too many things had happened and it seemed worse were to come.
The slowing motion of the coach woke Lillith. She blinked her eyes, trying to see better. She was not at her best upon first waking. The vehicle stopped completely, and she found herself tossed forward and caught by an arm around her waist. Her wits returned in a rush.
Perth. Abducted.
Vaguely, she remembered the carriage stopping once before, but she had fallen
into an exhausted sleep, her thoughts and memories twisted into nightmares, and had not roused so much as tossed about. Then warmth and security had enveloped her, and the dreams had eased and she had gone deeper into sleep. She now realised that Perth had entered and had taken her into his arms.
Now he released her before she said a word or even tried to free herself. She nearly tumbled off the seat, but managed to scramble across the vehicle and to sit up, facing him.
The inside was dimly lit from outside light. She guessed it must be some time in the early morning. They must have travelled some considerable distance since her abduction.
‘We are stopping here to change horses and get something to eat.’ Perth’s voice was deeper than usual. She wondered if he had just woken up. ‘Stay here. I will be back shortly.’
Before she could reply, he was gone.
Any lingering tiredness left. If she meant to flee, she had better start now. Grabbing up her cape, she scooted to the door, which she opened and jumped through. The step had not been let down, and it was a long way to the ground. She landed with a thump and twist of her ankle. Pain shot up her right leg. She sank backwards until she sat in the carriage doorway.
She took deep, slow breaths to try to still the pain. Any thought she’d had of escaping seeped away. She could not run and, from the looks of this inn, there was nowhere to run. It was a typical village pub, and a small village at that. From her limited vision, she could see several cottages, a village green and not much else. She had no idea where they were.
She gathered up her courage to try putting weight on her foot when Perth came into view. He moved with a lean looseness that she found intriguing. Dark hair, a little longer than fashionable, swept back from his high forehead. The scar slashing his cheek was pronounced in the dark haze of a face in need of a shave. His full lips were firm, with a hint of sensuality that made her remember how his kiss had felt—punishing, devastating, exciting.
He reached her, dark brows drawn in irritation. ‘I told you to stay put.’
She pushed the memory aside and stood. She ignored the shaft of pain streaking from her ankle up her leg. ‘I do as I wish. You are not my keeper.’
‘I am the keeper of your reputation. What if someone of our circle had been here and recognised you?’
She huffed in indignation. ‘And what if someone had? Is it not a little late for you to worry about my good name?’
In the heat of her ire, she stepped forward, intending to face him without hesitation. Immediately, her right leg buckled and a sharp intake of breath caught her unawares. His arms circled her and lifted her up before she could come close to the ground.
‘What in Hades have you done?’
She turned her head and glared at him. His eyes met hers. Lillith blinked, and blinked again. He was too close. She shook her head.
‘I turned my ankle.’
‘Because you defied me. Had you stayed in the carriage this would not have happened.’ His face inched closer to hers. His breath stirred a strand of her hair that had fallen over her eyes.
Fresh indignation at his arrogance swept away his appeal. ‘How typical. It is all my fault because I did not do as you ordered.’ She made an unladylike sound. ‘If you had acted like a gentleman and let the step down and helped me out, I would not have had to jump out and thus injure myself.’
It was his turn to shake his head. ‘Women. You have no logic.’
‘And you have no feeling,’ she shot back.
Fury mounted his features, but he did not reply to her taunt. ‘Since there is no one of our acquaintance here, I have bespoken a room where you can refresh yourself. Then we can have some breakfast before continuing on.’
She nodded, not sure enough of her voice to answer him.
‘I will take you to your room and look at that ankle. The last thing we need is for it to become severe and need a doctor’s attention.’
Again she did not answer. Her thoughts were a jumble. Nor did the press of his chest against the side of her bosom or his arms so intimately around her waist and thighs help her concentration. They might as well be naked for the lack of barrier her dress and cape and his greatcoat and jacket provided. To her eternal shame, she had always reacted this carnally to his nearness. When she was young, her feelings for him had scared her. Now only shame mixed with her ardor, and she was not sure that shame was enough to keep her from succumbing to him.
They entered the building to a smiling, bowing innkeeper. The man was young and thin as a whippet. Perth passed him by with a nod. She smiled.
The smells of eggs, ham and freshly baked bread assailed her nostrils. Her stomach growled.
‘Soon,’ Perth said, a genuine smile tugging at the side of his mouth for the first time since this adventure had begun.
He carried her effortlessly up a flight of stairs and down the hallway, ducking his head as the ceiling got lower. The building had been built a long time ago. Thatched roof and timbers spoke of an Elizabethan birth. The quaintness appealed to her.
Perth stopped before a door and kicked it open with his toe. He bent forward so that his chin was nearly in her bosom. Still, his head barely missed the lintel. But her nerves ran riot. She was sure his jaw had rested momentarily on the swell of her breast, leaving a hot brand and swollen flesh behind. He seemed not to notice anything.
He strode across the small room to the bed that nearly filled the space and set her carefully down. As his arms slipped away, she felt instantly bereft and vulnerable. If anything, she should feel safer without his body touching hers. Not so.
‘Which ankle is it?’ He knelt down and cocked his head up to look at her.
The hair sprang in thick waves from his forehead. The urge to comb her fingers through the rich mass was nearly her undoing. With a jolt, she realised what she was thinking. But it was too late. He had already seen her response.
His look turned knowing. His eyes took on a smouldering awareness that sent shocks coursing through her system. His hands slid underneath her skirt and his long fingers stroked down her left calf.
Her eyes widened as a tiny gasp escaped her. ‘Wrong ankle,’ she managed to say through the tightness in her chest.
His fingers shifted to her other leg, but not until he had thoroughly stroked the uninjured limb. His gaze never left her face, a face she knew betrayed every emotion she felt, every tremor of desire his touch elicited.
She felt heat mount her neck and flood her cheeks. Still, she watched his long, finely formed fingers skim over her injured ankle. He was gentle yet firm, watching her for every nuance. She winced when he pressed on a tender spot.
His attention shifted to her foot. ‘’Twould be best if you took off your stocking,’ he murmured. ‘Fetching as it is, I think there might be bruising with the swelling.’
She stared at his bent head and the proud jut of his jaw. He was a man many women desired. He looked back up at her, one dark brow raised quizzically. She started, caught once more in admiration of him.
‘Leave the room, Perth, and I shall do as you request.’ Her voice was husky, and she forced her jumping nerves to ease. ‘Send a maid to bind the ankle. You have done enough.’
‘Have I?’
He rose in one smooth, tightly controlled movement. The muscles in his thighs bunched and flexed, catching her attention as everything about him did. She turned her head away.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said, his voice low and rough. ‘I will bandage your ankle.’
Her head jerked back. ‘No, you will not. Surely the innkeeper’s wife knows better than you.’
‘I am more skilled than you think. Wrapping your ankle will take but a few moments.’ His eyes narrowed to slits when she opened her mouth to deny him. ‘The less contact you have with others, the less likely anyone is to find out what has really happened to you. I am merely thinking of your reputation.’
‘Are you?’
He gave her a ruthless smile that did not reach his eyes. ‘Yes.’
<
br /> ‘Do you honestly think my servants will remain quiet about what has happened? That no one will learn that I was abducted by a man?’ She shook her head, wondering how naïve he thought her.
‘I think that if they care for your reputation they will confide only in your family. With discretion, no one else need know.’ A mocking light in the black depths of his eyes told her what he thought of her brother’s ability to keep quiet.
‘Mathias is many things, Perth, but he has always been concerned for my well-being.’ That much at least was truth.
‘As he sees it.’ He left without another word.
Lillith instantly felt stranded, alone and vulnerable. She shook her head to clear away the inane thought. Better that she search for a way to escape than that she repine over Perth’s departure. He meant her no good.
She slid from the bed, careful not to put her injured foot on the floor. On one leg, she hopped to the single window. From its height, she could see for miles around. Nothing but fields. Nothing that looked familiar. They had travelled a great distance.
With a sigh, she sank into the nearby chair. Its overstuffed, chintz-covered cushions swallowed her. She leaned her head back and rested it on the well-padded chair, her eyes closing. Even were she uninjured, she would be hard-pressed to get away.
And did she want to?
He would hurt her. He would hurt her badly. Still, a part of her yearned unceasingly for what only he could give her. It had been this way since she first saw him, ten years ago. She feared the longing for him would never cease.
The sound of the door opening jerked her upright. Perth entered, his greatcoat gone and a laden tray in his hands.
‘I have brought tea and cold meats and cheese.’
He laid the tray on a nearby table, then shrugged out of his navy jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his fine lawn shirt. From one of his jacket pockets he took a roll of snowy-white cloth.
‘You play the servant well,’ she said, an edge on the words as she fought to maintain her emotional distance.
The Rogue's Seduction Page 2
