The Rogue's Seduction
Page 17
‘Her ladyship is with her brother, and I’ve no desire to interrupt them.’ He strode past the butler. ‘Show me to a room where I can wait for her.’
‘Um…yes, my lord. This way, my lord.’ Simmons set off down the hall.
Perth soon found himself in a small room that looked like Lillith’s workroom. There was a desk littered with papers and a basket of mending set beside a large, comfortably overstuffed chair. A fire roared in the grate and the curtains were opened to show a winter garden. He found it a cosy place and made himself at home.
He and Lillith still had to discuss the terms of their wedding. He would wait patiently until she arrived, now that she was his. He did not have long.
She burst into the room, obviously agitated. ‘What are you doing here? I sent word to the inn that I accept your offer of marriage.’
He rose and made her a bow. ‘Your talk with your brother must not have gone well. I fear he was not in a good mood after the one he and I had in your driveway.’
She made her way to the window, her back to him. She had a slim, elegant back that the thick wool dress did not hide. He thought that perhaps there was just a little bit of widening at her waist, but that might easily be his own desire. He wanted the child she carried. The urge to take her in his arms was strong, but the tilt of her chin told him that that action would only make things more difficult. He could wait now that she was to be his.
‘Why are you here?’ she finally asked, her voice tired.
‘Are you getting enough rest?’ he asked, ignoring her question.
Exasperation pinched her brows together. ‘I get enough sleep, but there is not enough rest in the world to compensate for having my brother rant and rave at me over you and then finding out that you are here to do the same over something else.’
Her words gave him pause. He had been ruthless in his pursuit of her. Perhaps it was time to woo her. Theirs was not a love match, but he wanted more than a marriage of convenience.
‘I am not here to berate you, Lillith,’ he said soothingly. ‘I am here to discuss the settlement I intend to make on you and our child. I thought you would not want me to discuss it with your brother, given the circumstances.’
‘That is true enough,’ she said bitterly. Her hands unclenched and she turned to face him. ‘I want provision for our child should it be a boy or girl. I won’t have any child of mine being bartered like a piece of goods.’ Her mouth drooped just slightly. ‘I know too well what that is like. And I want a jointure independent of you. I trust you will not make my brother the executor.’
A hard smile split his lips before he nodded agreement. ‘You shall have all of that. I will also arrange for our future children to have financial independence. I also know what it is like to be considered a commodity instead of a person.’
She blushed at his words. He too had paid for her brother’s machinations. ‘And I will not sleep with you.’
He gave her a slow, sensual smile as his gaze roved over her. ‘We shall see.’
‘I won’t.’ Her voice rose. ‘Agree to that term or I won’t marry you.’
He turned away to conceal the anger that her insistence caused. But when he spoke his voice was cool. ‘I won’t force you.’
‘Nor seduce me,’ she added.
‘I cannot promise that,’ he said softly, turning back to her. His eyes held hers. ‘But you can always refuse me.’
He heard her sharp intake of breath and had some measure of satisfaction. He’d be damned if he would marry her, live in the same house with her and not sleep with her.
‘Well,’ she said, her voice raspy, ‘that is settled. We will be married tomorrow. Right now, I am tired.’
He stepped in front of her, causing her to stop her steps to the door. ‘I am looking forward to our wedding, Lillith. It is long overdue.’
Her eyes widened but she said nothing. She edged around him and he let her go. He could be patient. He would be patient. Tomorrow she would be his.
Chapter Fourteen
Lillith stood in the tiny church connected to her Dower House. She did not normally take services here, preferring to go to the church in the village where she could meet the people who worked the de Lisle land. Only the vicar was present from the congregation.
Now the early part of December, the building was dim inside even though candles were lit. Outside it snowed. She shivered.
Mathias stood behind her on the left. He had stayed the night with her in spite of everything. She had not had the energy or the anger to have her servants throw him out. She was too overwhelmed by this marriage and everything it meant.
Perth stood beside her in morning dress. She would swear she could feel the animosity between the two men as waves rolling over her.
The vicar cleared his throat. Lillith focused on him. The banns had not been called. Perth had a special licence. Everyone in the village still knew they were marrying. There was to be a reception this afternoon for the town folk, hastily arranged but something she wanted to do. It was her parting gift to the people she had taken an interest in and helped where needed for the last ten years. She would miss them like she already missed the servants in London that she had had to let go and the servants here who would not be accompanying her to Perth’s property. Simmons, thank goodness, would come with her.
She refused to cry.
There had been no time to have a special gown made even had she wished it. She had found a wool dress in palest pink that she had worn several winters before. It had been tight in the bust, that seeming to be where she had gained weight with the child, so she had spent several hours letting out the seams. Agatha had asked to do the chore, but Lillith had declined. Sewing soothed her. The rhythmic in-and-out of the needle calmed her frayed nerves. Tomorrow she would start on clothes for the baby.
The vicar cleared his throat again, as though something were lodged in it. He began the ceremony.
She said the words required of her and vaguely heard Perth agree to take her as his wife. No one objected.
‘The rings.’
She looked at the vicar. ‘I have no ring.’
He cleared his throat once more and looked away. Perth was paying him a handsome fee to perform this ceremony so quickly.
‘I do,’ Perth said, his voice deep and sure.
He took her by surprise.
Fitch reached into a breast pocket and pulled out a ring that flashed in the yellow light of a nearby candle. Opals and diamonds formed an oval larger than the first knuckle of her thumb. She gazed at it. Opals were bad luck if not your birthstone. They were her birthstone.
She put out her left hand so Perth could slip the ring on. It slid on as though it had been made for her finger.
‘It was my mother’s,’ the Earl said quietly. ‘I know she would want you to wear it.’
His warmth was not something she had expected. He was marrying—no, had forced her to marry him for the sake of the child they had made. She had agreed for that child’s sake. The earldom of Perth was not something a woman could easily give up for her unborn child. Especially now.
‘You may kiss the bride,’ the vicar said, his voice wavering.
She had not expected this. She felt Perth’s hand at her waist like a brand, turning her and pulling her toward him. She heard Mathias snort in irritation. Then she heard nothing as Perth’s mouth touched hers and the roaring in her ears drowned out all else.
It was not a light, impersonal kiss of acknowledgement. It seared to her bones. His fingers bit into the small of her back and held her tightly to him so that she could feel his arousal. His lips moved over hers and his tongue slipped inside her. She could taste the whisky he had drunk before coming here. Surely he was not nervous? The scent of cinnamon and musk filled her nostrils. It was a lip-tingling, thigh-melting kiss that left her wanting more.
He released her and she stumbled back so that Mathias had to put out an arm to steady her. ‘Your reaction is disgusting,’ he hissed in her ear.
Somehow, she pulled her emotions together and edged away from Mathias. She lifted her chin and took the arm Perth extended. Side by side, they left the chapel. The others did not follow.
Safely away from curious eyes, Lillith snatched her hand back. ‘I must go and prepare for the festivities later.’ He took a step after her and she whirled on him. ‘Do not follow me. Remember what I said.’
His look turned hard. ‘Your words say one thing, but your body and every move you make say something different.’
‘I am in control of my body,’ she said, wishing it were so.
He gave her a mocking smile as though he knew how false her boast was. ‘Then I will see you later.’
She hurried away, trying to push him from her mind by running down a mental checklist of what needed doing for the party tonight. She needed to talk with Cook about the food, Simmons about the beverages and Agatha about what she would wear. All her clothes were uncomfortably tight. Something would need to be let out.
Her feet kept pace with her thoughts. And still she could not keep from remembering the feel of Perth’s mouth on hers.
She was doomed.
Perth raised his third glass of champagne in salute to the innkeeper who whirled past with his wife in his arms as they nimbly executed a move in the country reel being played. With sardonic amusement, he saw that Wentworth consumed as much drink as he and there was no gambling to be had. The man must be going crazy.
Seeing Lillith make her way around the crowded room, studiously ignoring him, he could easily understand what it was like to be crazy. He wanted her in the worst possible way.
She moved with a grace that few women possessed. And she was kind to everyone.
His mother had been like that. The daughter of a wealthy landowner, she had run away with the younger son of a younger son who was a career army officer. His parents had married for love and, to the best of his knowledge, they had never regretted it. He had been the only child.
Lillith passed in front of him, dancing energetically with the blacksmith. The man was twice her size and lumbered. She would be lucky not to have bruised feet.
She was well liked by the common folk.
Churlishness not being one of Perth’s traits, he pushed off from the wall and went to ask one of the town’s ladies to dance. He chose an older woman who would enjoy herself but not simper at him. He could not stand simpering.
Meanwhile, he would bide his time until tonight.
An eternity later, or so it seemed to Perth, he stood beside Lillith and said goodbye to the last of their guests. Wentworth had disappeared long before.
‘Simmons,’ she said, totally ignoring Perth, ‘please see that everyone is given extra wages for tonight and before they are let go. I have letters of recommendation for everyone.’
He nodded.
She turned away with a slump to her shoulders that Perth had rarely seen. The last weeks had been hard on her.
As though she sensed his attention, she straightened her shoulders and looked at him. ‘I am tired and I am going to bed. Alone.’
He crossed his arms over his chest and returned her stare. ‘This is our wedding night.’
‘We have a bargain.’
‘You have a stipulation. I did not say I would honour it.’
She gasped. ‘You most certainly did.’
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘I said that I would not force you, not that I would not seduce you or sleep with you. We are married.’
‘This is my house, and I forbid you to follow me.’ She spun on her heel and walked off.
Perth watched her, enjoying the sway of her hips and the elegant curve of her back. But she was very much confused if she thought he was not going to join her. He sauntered behind her, far enough away that she did not bolt.
‘My lord—’ Simmons materialised ‘—I will show you to your room.’
Perth glanced at the butler. ‘Thank you, but I know where my room is.’ He saw Lillith start up the stairs. ‘And I am going there.’
He headed off, but not before he heard Simmons sputter. However, the butler was in a difficult situation and there was nothing he could do but stand aside.
Perth sauntered after his wife, arriving at her room shortly after she did. He did not knock, and fortunately Lillith had not locked the door. He could almost think she wanted him to enter, but he knew better. She had thought he would not follow her after being told not to. She had much to learn.
He entered and closed the door behind himself. She sat sprawled on a settee, her feet up and her hair down. She made his blood heat.
She shot bolt upright. ‘What are you doing here? I told you not to follow me.’
He moved to a chair and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. His dancing pumps gleamed in the firelight. ‘And I told you that I would.’
‘Well, you can just leave.’ She pointed imperiously at the door. ‘Now!’
‘Lillith,’ he said quietly and clearly, ‘I have already told you. We are married. I intend to have my conjugal rights.’
She huffed and she flushed and she looked away from the desire he made no effort to hide. ‘You will have to seduce me then, for I will not walk into your arms.’
He studied her, noting the luminosity of her skin and the sheen of her hair. She held herself proudly. She was intelligent and she had spirit, both traits he valued. And he desired her with an ache that was constant and painful in its intensity.
But he was getting tired of these confrontations and recriminations. Perhaps wanting her was not enough any more. He began to think it would be nice if she would return his interest without him first having to force her into arousal.
‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘As much as I want to make love to you—and make no doubt losing myself in you is something I desire above all else—I begin to think that your resistance is growing tiring.’
Her mouth dropped. He nearly laughed at her surprise, but he really did not find this situation at all humourous, just her unexpected reaction.
‘You are growing tired?’
He nodded. ‘A little. You see, I am not used to working so hard for my pleasures.’
‘Oh.’ She picked at her skirts. ‘I did not think you did. That is all part of why I insist that our marriage remain one of convenience.’
‘A marriage of convenience usually gives the husband the right to enjoy his wife’s charms,’ he said softly.
‘You already have,’ she retorted. ‘And I am carrying your child. That is the focus of a marriage of convenience. We have fulfilled it.’
‘I see,’ he said quietly. ‘As far as you are concerned, if you bear my son then you have fulfilled your obligation.’
She nodded.
He stood abruptly, suddenly wearied beyond bearing. ‘Much as I want you, I find that perhaps it is time I spared you my unwanted attentions. After a while, even the most unobservant man realizes when his presence is not only not wanted, but dreaded.’
He had never thought he would reach the point where he would not do anything to have her. But he had.
He made her a curt bow and left.
Lillith did a slow turn, studying her suite of rooms in Perth’s London town house. Rich greens and golds and browns made the large area seem warm and inviting. Heavy furniture from another era filled the space and provided comfort. In all, it was not a very feminine room but she liked it. What Perth’s chambers looked like, she did not know and did not want to know.
Except that curiosity moved her towards the connecting door. She had heard him leave immediately after bringing her here, so there would be no one inside. She told herself it was not like she was invading his privacy. He w
ould be more than willing to have her in his bedchamber.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed open the door. The room was dim with the curtains pulled and no fire or lit candles. Still, she could see that it was as spacious as her own and done in the same colours and style of furniture. The two rooms were mirrors of one another. How strange.
Quickly, she stepped back and closed the door. She would never know why they were decorated the same since she could not let Perth know she had been in his room while he was gone, and she had no intention of going into his room while he was in it. Perhaps the person who had decorated the rooms was a man. It was a mystery she would never solve.
Agatha chose that moment to enter Lillith’s room, her arms full of gowns. ‘My lady, I am glad you are here. Mr Fitch just told me that the Earl is engaged to Lord Ranvensford this evening for dinner and dancing. You will need to choose your gown and we will have to let the seams out of the bosom.’
Not only was Lillith’s stomach growing, but her breasts were swollen and sore. Her nipples were constantly erect and rubbing against her chemise. Being in the family way was very disconcerting.
Lillith sank into the nearest chair. The last thing she wanted to do was face London Society. But she must. The sooner done, the sooner the talk of their rushed marriage would become yesterday’s old news. And there was only a week or two left before Parliament adjourned for the winter.
‘The white muslin with the pink overlay,’ she told Agatha. ‘While you are enlarging it, I will nap.’ She still barely showed her pregnancy, but she tired more easily and was more emotional. There was no other explanation for the way she had railed at Perth on their wedding night.
She took off her dress and put on a wrapper. But before climbing on to the high four-poster bed, she wrote a quick note to Madeline and asked Agatha to have it delivered. Nothing would perk her up like a visit from her friend. That done, she fell into a deep sleep.