Mischance

by Smith, Carla Susan

  Dropping her arms, Isabel turned on her seat to face him. The look on his face was the only invitation she needed, and she rose from her seat, and walked toward the bed. Every step was a calculated act of sexual provocation, rewarded by the gleam of lust in Rian’s eyes. A slight shrug and the delicate robe fell to the ground, where it shimmered in a red cloud about her feet. She heard his breath catch as he gazed at her, and she smiled. Isabel already knew what an engaging temptress she was.

  The normally muted emerald green of her eyes now sparkled with passion. Her cheeks were flushed and the quick intake of breath revealed her own desire quickening through her. Full rounded breasts sat high on a ribcage that gave way to a narrow waist and shapely hips. Her legs were smooth and silky, and she saw Rian’s gaze irresistibly drawn to the nest of tight, dark curls that cushioned the top of her thighs. She was the picture of voluptuousness and the scent of her sex filled his nostrils, teasing his own arousal.

  “Isabel,” he growled, in a voice that was low and husky, “I have a small problem that I think would benefit greatly from your expert handling.”

  Laughing, she pulled back the sheet that covered him. “Not so small I think, my love, but one that I agree would benefit greatly from my touch.” Her face was glowing and she looked almost feline, Rian thought.

  Placing one small, perfectly manicured hand against the wide expanse of his smooth chest, she gently pushed him down on the bed, and got on top of him, straddling his hips. A small gasp escaped her as she took him inside her, feeling him fill her completely. For a moment she remained quite still, savoring the sensation, while he lay without moving, content to have her demonstrate how skillful a lover she was.

  Leaning forward, Isabel moved her hands to his shoulders, and began to rock herself back and forth. Her hair fell free of the comb and it whispered erotically across his skin as she moved. Gently Rian clasped his hands about her waist and began to match her rhythm, feeling her heat increase as she slid forward to coat him with her own slick passion. A pearly sheen glistened on her skin, and she uttered a barely audible moan as she quickened the tempo. He kept pace with her, and just when he sensed she could no longer endure the sweet agony of their coupling, Rian thrust his hips upward, holding her to him hard and fast as they both exploded in a gratifying wave of sexual release.

  Later, after their appetites were sated, it was Isabel who lay back amongst the pillows watching Rian as he dressed. Her eyes roamed over him, drinking in every small detail from the width of his shoulders and well-muscled arms, to his hard, flat stomach and powerful legs. She recalled being trapped by those strong thighs when Rian had playfully pinned her on the bed before persuading her to open for him. Strands of silver threaded the thick mane of his hair, telling her he had known hardship in his life. His hands still bore calluses, and several scars stood out in stark relief against his tanned skin. She longed to know the story behind each and every one.

  A strong chin and firm jaw hinted at stubbornness, while his wide mouth gave his face a seriousness he didn’t always demonstrate. Isabel knew only too well how quick he was to smile, and, on the rare occasion he did sleep at her side, she hadn’t failed to notice a particular vulnerability when his features were relaxed. This was what she wanted to possess more than anything. This side of him she suspected very few ever saw.

  By comparison, Isabel now realized her previous lovers had been sadly lacking, and she wondered how she could have ever thought herself satisfied. None could ever claim the hold on her that Rian did, and she was determined no other man would.

  Dressed now, he came to her ready to take his leave. The dawn was less than an hour away, but he rarely stayed the entire night. Bending down he brushed a few stray curls from her forehead and kissed her tenderly.

  “When will your brother be in town?” she asked huskily.

  His forehead crinkled. “Later this week, I think.”

  “And will he be with you long?”

  Rian’s mouth curled in a sly grin. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just wondering how many days I have to be without you.”

  He laughed and placed a finger beneath her chin, raising her head so he could kiss her on the mouth. “In all probability this will be the last opportunity Liam and I will have to spend together before his duties as a husband claim him. It is his house, after all, and he will stay as long as he chooses,” he told her gently. “Besides, aren’t you invited somewhere with Charlotte?”

  Isabel gasped in mock horror at his familiarity. “Lady Maitling,” she said with exaggerated reverence, “has done me the honor of requesting my company while she makes a brief visit to her country estate.” She pouted and narrowed her eyes. “But if truth be told, I think she is only tolerating my presence so she may satisfy her curiosity about you.”

  “I have no doubt that a clever mind like yours will find something entertaining to share with her,” Rian said, straightening his cuffs.

  “Come back to bed. You know you don’t have to go.” Her voice took on a petulant tone, and to emphasize her point, she sat up and let the sheet fall to her waist.

  Sitting down next to her, Rian bent his head and took a tempting nipple in his mouth. Isabel arched her back as he gently rolled his tongue over its surface, licking and teasing until a stiff peak formed. He scraped the swollen flesh lightly with his teeth before letting go, and her eyes became glazed.

  “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my dear,” he said softly, “but there is a reputation that needs to be protected, and you have placed that burden squarely on my shoulders.” Giving a theatrical, exaggerated sigh, he stood and began backing away toward the door.

  “Reputation be damned!” Isabel shouted in frustration as she threw a pillow at him. “I care not one whit for my reputation.”

  Laughing, Rian easily dodged the missile and opened the door. “That is something I am all too well aware of, but it isn’t your reputation I’m trying to protect.” He blew her a kiss, leaving her to fume in her bed.

  Chapter 11

  The pale fingers of dawn made busy pushing back the mantle of night. The fog that had stolen through the streets earlier dispersed, although pockets still lingered here and there. And there was enough of a bite in the air to herald the forthcoming change of seasons, but it was not cold enough to discourage Rian from walking. It was, he decided, perfect thinking weather, and the distance to the townhouse was a comfortable stretch for his legs. Turning his collar up against the morning breeze, he set off. At this hour of the morning there was little to disturb him.

  His thoughts centered on the woman he had just left. There was no denying Isabel was a delightful creature, and he was quite taken with her, but he had also heard the rumors circulating about the two of them. According to the gossip, Lady Howard would not be opposed to receiving an offer of marriage were he to propose one. A change of attitude so remarkable it had raised many a painted brow, especially as Isabel had made no secret of her aversion to matrimony. That she would consider taking a husband had set more than tongues wagging. Wagers were being made on how much longer she would retain the title of Lady Howard. Acutely aware of the tales being spread, Rian knew it was time to address them, and so he pondered the question.

  Would marriage to Isabel be such a terrible thing?

  There was no denying she was beautiful. Blessed with a sharp mind and a quick wit. And she was an exhilarating lover. She was also the first woman he had met in a long time who made him realize how much he missed the daily interaction of female companionship. Perhaps it was a sign telling him to put the past behind him, settle down and take a wife again. But was Isabel the woman to fill that empty place in his life? Rian knew she certainly thought so. He was not so sure.

  A dog trotting down the street captured his attention. It stopped and looked at him, canine curiosity cocking its head to one side with ears pricked before deciding Rian was no threat. Ignoring h
im, the dog carried on, intent on his wanderings. Watching the animal go about its business, Rian smiled. Sometimes he wished his own life could be that simple, devoid of needless complications. He sighed. He wanted his relationship with Isabel to continue exactly as it was, but he already knew that would be impossible. Despite all her protests to the contrary, Isabel was subtly asking him for more. It was nothing overt on her part; indeed to an outsider their relationship had not changed a whit, but Rian could sense a certain restlessness growing within her. No longer content with the status quo, Isabel wanted to know whether he was going to make her a more permanent part of his future. Late night suppers and afternoon trysts, while still delightful, were a temporary diversion that would bring satisfaction for only so long. With Isabel it would have to be all or nothing.

  In the quiet of the early morning, Rian examined his own feelings with an honesty that was brutal, before considering the qualities he desired in a partner. He sighed with disappointment at the realization that, for all her charm and beauty, Isabel was not the woman he wanted as a wife. He couldn’t explain why he felt this way, or what necessary element she lacked, but he trusted the feeling within himself that said it was so.

  While many marriages, particularly arranged ones between great families, endured without the benefit of love, it was an understanding he had no wish to be a part of. He despised the idea of a loveless match. He wanted children, and he wanted to love them in a way his own father had never been able to do. How was he going to do that if he felt only a modicum of affection for their mother? Isabel teased his body and delighted his mind, but Rian felt nothing that made him want to open his heart and share his hopes and dreams with her. A long-term future with the dark-haired beauty was doomed. They would drift apart until they were nothing more than strangers who shared a house and politely greeted each other whenever their paths crossed. Any affection they felt now would fade until it was nothing but a bittersweet memory.

  Both of them deserved more.

  As the early morning breeze stiffened, tugging at the hem of his coat, Rian knew he could never love Isabel the way he believed a husband should love his wife, the way he had once loved. Without any reservations, and with a depth of feeling that would continue to grow as the years passed. The love that his brother already shared with Felicity. Liam not only loved his bride to be, he was also very much in love with her. To offer any woman less would deny both of them the chance of finding true happiness, and that was something Rian was not prepared to do.

  Finding the answer to a problem he didn’t even know he’d been subconsciously wrestling with, Rian acknowledged the necessity of ending his relationship with Isabel. He would be as kind as possible. He did not want to hurt her, but it would be a greater cruelty to allow her to think he might ask for her hand. For him she would always be a beautiful, cherished memory, but he could offer her no more.

  He could not have said what unknown hand steered him toward the docks, but he was not terribly surprised to find himself there. The sight of the great ships always stirred something deep within him, and he took a measure of comfort in their presence. They had provided the key to his freedom a lifetime ago. Now, standing quietly in the shadows, he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the wharf coming to life. No gentle bird song awakened those needing to be about their business. Instead the raucous shriek of gulls, dipping and soaring overhead, mingled with the sound of early morning human activity. In a short while the area would become a center of controlled commotion as people went about their daily lives, their purpose set.

  Rian’s mouth was fixed in a grim line as another problem poked at his brain, demanding his attention. What was he to do now he had returned home? He needed a purpose. Their father had kept true to his promise and disowned him. Oakhaven now belonged to Liam, though that was of little consequence to Rian. If their father had not taken charge of the matter, Rian would have found a way to legally renounce his claim to the estate. He had no need of the property or the income it provided, and his brother had more than earned the right to it long ago, but being a landowner was in their blood. Both his and Liam’s. They derived a great satisfaction from growing crops, raising livestock, and being responsible for the well-being of those who worked the land. It was something passed down the Connor line, and an occupation Rian was good at. Perhaps Liam knew of some land he could buy.

  With a satisfied smile on his lips, Rian took in a deep breath. The tang of salt in the air was strong, and he savored the scent like the sweetest perfume. There would be time enough to decide his own future after Liam and Felicity were settled; for now it was enough to enjoy the crisp freshness of the morning before it became polluted by the day’s wear. Listening to the rhythmic slap of water against the stone wharf, Rian let his mind wander as the water sang to him. He thought of everything, and he thought of nothing.

  * * * *

  Catherine had lost all concept of time. Her mind was now locked in a secret place, and she no longer possessed the key to free it. Moving almost mechanically with a will of its own, her body slipped in and out of the fog-shrouded streets and dark alleys. Instinct drove her as she heeded the overwhelming urge to flee and put as much distance as possible between herself and the nightmare that sought her destruction.

  Muddled, vague images floated before her eyes, but she could not tell if they were real or imaginary. Shadowy figures called out to her, their singsong lilt haunting, but the grip she had on reality was tenuous, and she did not trust herself to answer them. The ability to make sense of the past few hours, what little she was able to remember, was failing fast. The effort needed to recall the details was a struggle that threatened the last reserves of her depleted strength.

  In the beginning each step had brought spasms of pain that screamed up her legs and clawed across her back, but after a while the chill of the night acted as a balm, numbing her to the point where she now felt nothing at all, not even the sharp stones and pebbles that cut into her bare feet. What had happened to her shoes? When did she lose them? She vaguely recalled a kind face with gentle hands slipping them on her feet. A woman who’d helped her, but who she was, Catherine no longer knew.

  She told herself that it was important to remember why she hurt, but the harder she tried to grasp the reason, the further away it slipped until it disappeared entirely, and could no longer be brought to mind. She bit her lower lip in frustration, and winced at the pain. Gingerly she touched her mouth, staring at the bloodstains on her fingers in confused bewilderment. Had she bitten herself that hard? For a moment the memory danced just within reach, but it filled her with fear and so she let it slip away as silent tears spilled down her cheeks.

  She reeled like a drunk through the streets and back alleys of a city she did not know. Landmarks had no meaning, and she had no idea in which direction she was going. All she could do was trust her inner compass, hoping she would recognize her destination when she arrived. She cried, muffled sobs echoing off stone bricks, but no one heeded the distorted sound carried through the dense fog. Weeping was an all too familiar sound. A man, taking her for a whore, approached only to realize his mistake after seeing her bruised and bleeding face. She clung to the shadows, waiting until the sound of his boots ringing on the cobblestones had faded before trusting herself to move. Catherine saw no one else, and if others saw her, they stayed silent and kept to their own shadows.

  Onward she walked, obeying some involuntary pull, one bloody footstep in front of another until she found herself at the docks. Like a phantom she glided in and out of the shadows until she was standing at the far edge of the wharf, at the farthest point away from the ships, where she stared into the murky depths of the river. Dawn was breaking, and in a short while this place would be bustling, and people would notice her. But for now an eerie quiet filled the air, as if each block of stone beneath her feet shared her pain, and promised to act as her witness. Her body ached from the cold, injuries, and sheer, bloody exhau
stion. Catherine had never felt so tired. She needed to rest but her functioning eye refused to close, and a voice in her head told her to stay focused. There was a reason she was here.

  The small waves that slapped against the huge stone slabs commanded her attention. Catherine peered into the water and saw something shimmering just below the surface. Her brows knitted together as she forced herself to concentrate, but she was tired and it was difficult. But then she saw it again, and the watery reflection revealed itself. It was a face, and one that she recognized and could remember only too well. The countenance below the surface belonged to a handsome man who was strong and vital and in his prime. A man whose life held purpose. It was the way she remembered her father looking before her mother had died. A time when they had all been happy.

  Seeing her father smile at her, Catherine tried to smile back, but her swollen mouth could only produce a grotesque leer. She feared the image in the water would turn away from such ugliness, but it did not. Instead her father opened his mouth and called her name.

  Catherine…. Catherine….

  The sound of his voice carried on the waves slapping lightly against the wharf, whispering inside her head.

  Catherine…child…come to me…. Come…Catherine. Ease your pain….

  She shook her head as bewilderment and confusion sought to cloud his meaning. As if sensing her difficulty, her father spoke to her again, only this time his voice carried a shaper sense of urgency.

  One step Catherine…. One small step…. Then you will be with me. Come, child….

  William held out his arms, his intention perfectly clear. All she needed to do was step off the edge of the dock, and she would be carried down to the murky depths of the water below. Her bloodstained feet moved her forward until she could feel her toes curl around the rough edge of the stone block. The river would surely take pity on her. Carry her to a place where she would find peace, and someone who would love her.