She shrugged. “If you won’t tell me, I must think as I will.”
“Not enough of an enticement.” He ran a finger along his chin. “So, what will I get if I tell you my secret?”
Her breath caught. It sounded as if he were asking for something she didn’t know if she could give him. Then, her eyes fell to his lips. Twisted up in a smirk, and oh so kissable. That was definitely something she could afford.
“I believe the better question would be what you want of me.”
His hungry eyes burned into her and when his gaze fell to her lips, her mouth dried. Desperate for moisture, she ran her tongue along the seam, and the fire in his eyes smoldered. Suddenly, he looked away, closing his expression from her.
“No. That’s too easy. You have put a steep price on exchanging missives with me, and now you want me to tell you exactly what I want? No. I’ll take whatever you are willing to give.”
She relaxed her tense shoulders. The missives. That was what he was here for. Not for her. Not from a desire to spend time with her. He only needed a friend to exchange letters with.
“If you tell me—and you didn’t cheat—I promise to begin writing letters to you again.”
A light sparkled in his wide eyes, then fizzled out slowly. “No more impulsive acts? You’re done with me that easily?”
His face didn’t betray his feelings. Was he relieved or hurt? This was the exact reason why she began speaking her mind. Trying to determine what other people meant was too much work.
“You asked me to offer you something you want in exchange for what I requested. As we pointed out before, I don’t know you well. The missives are the only thing I know you wish of me.”
His smile returned. “For such a prize, my little bit of information seems insignificant. Is there anything more you desire from me?”
She clicked her tongue. “That’s not the way it works. Aren’t you supposed to guess what I want?”
His full-bodied laughter pierced through her skin and made her warm deep in her belly. “You are a cunning woman. So, how about a kiss? I do recall you mentioning wanting one.”
Every nerve ending in her body came alive with his one suggestion. He was right. Absolutely right. But, she couldn’t tell him that. Peering into his eyes, he didn’t look as though the idea bothered him in the least.
She shrugged, trying to present indifference. “I suppose an occasional kiss in exchange for letters sounds like a fair trade.”
“Occasional? I offered one.”
“I’m trying to negotiate.” She kept her voice even, as if the idea was as mundane as penning missives.
“Very well. I made it to the center of this maze by following the sun. With each turn, I knew the exact direction I’d taken, so I never became overly turned around. It did, however, take almost an hour to navigate.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That’s ingenious. I thought you found the path of petals I’d hidden near the edge of the walls.”
He groaned as his hand fell to his left knee, and he kneaded the flesh there. “You mean to tell me I could have simply followed a path and arrived in a fraction of the time?”
“I’m sorry, I— Does your leg hurt you? That’s all my fault. Perhaps I can help.”
“It’s nothing. Just a reminder that I would be wise to heed.”
She stood, intending to go to him, but he got to his feet as well. “Please, don’t stand. Let me ease your suffering, not add to it.”
To her relief, he sat back down. Nerves engulfed her at the thought of touching him. This was nothing like her half-brother. However, if she could help him, she would.
Stopping in front of him, she sank down to her knees. His wide eyes watched her, and she couldn’t help but notice his chest rising and falling rapidly.
When she reached out and touched his leg, he gasped, then grabbed her wrist.
“This isn’t right.” His raspy voice betrayed his feelings.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Why? You are in pain, and I can help.”
“You are not a doctor.”
She blew out a breath. “And, you are not a good patient. Now, release me and allow me to relieve the hurting, and my guilt at having put you through the maze.”
“I can see to your guilt right now. Keep in mind, I didn’t have to take you up on the challenge. Besides, I believe I owe you a kiss.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not until I have fulfilled my end of the bargain.”
Marcus tugged on her wrist until she was standing, then he pulled himself to his feet. “Are you saying you don’t want me to kiss you? Then, I must come up with something else to offer you. Or, maybe you need a reminder of what it feels like.”
The scent of him invaded her senses. He smelled of mint and spices. An aroma that tantalized her and made her mouth water. His lips were now a mere breath away. Surely taking one small kiss before delivering the first letter wouldn’t hurt.
Anticipation curled in her belly as he leaned closer. She remained still, not wishing to show how desperately she wanted him. After one more agonizing second, his warm lips were against hers. Silently rejoicing at the contact, she lifted her hands to wrap them around his neck.
“My lady!”
The muffled voice broke through the spell, and she jumped back from Marcus as if she’d caught fire. Honestly, with the heat singeing her face, she wondered if she had. She touched her cheek to verify if she had been burned or not.
“Who is that?” Marcus asked, his eyes darting toward the exit.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Isabella moved toward the sound. “She’s loyal, but she shouldn’t see you here. Follow the petals home after I have left with her.”
Before waiting for his response, she hastened through the pathway and found the girl much closer than she’d realized. If her half-brother had found out she had met Marcus in the maze, he probably would have the entire structure removed.
“Thank goodness I found you. The lordship is in a tear. Been looking for you for far too long.”
“I’m glad you came to get me. Now, hurry along before he catches the two of us together.”
Once the girl was out of sight, Isabella slowly made her way to the entrance. She knew she’d be punished, and the thought bothered her more than usual. After all, it would mean she would be forced to wait far too long before she had the opportunity to finish that kiss.
~ ~ ~
Marcus laughed as he clapped Christopher on the back. “I told you your mother wouldn’t take my appearance as a deterrent to find you a wife. At least the girl she chose for you was pleasant enough.”
“Don’t give me that. She was a mouse. A little, meek mouse. I like a little fire in my women.”
“Fire and passion leads to arguments and confrontations. That kind of behavior runs in my family, and I can tell you, having to deal with that type of woman every day becomes exceedingly tiresome.”
“I can see that with a sister or a mother, but wives are different. When she wants to let her passion out, I’ll just make sure to provide her with an outlet.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Not every problem can be solved in a bed.”
“So, you think I should marry the mouse? Is that what you are doing? Miss Ashford seems to be settling into Starsen quite comfortably.”
Reminders of his promise to the girl made him shift his shoulders as discomfort weighed heavily on him. How could he even consider marriage to her while he spent his time sneaking away to see Isabella?
Their incomplete kiss had been haunting him for two days now. So had her lack of letters. This was the second time he kissed her and one of them had run off. For once, he would like to talk to her afterward. Then, he wouldn’t have to spend his time wondering after her thoughts.
“Miss Ashford has every right to seek comfort in my home. She is family to my sister.”
“A convenient mouse already living in your home. Sounds exactly like your type of girl. The only trouble with her would be moving her bedch
amber.”
“What would be so wrong with that?”
Christopher let out a long sigh. “For years, you spent your life denying yourself. I don’t want you to do that with a wife as well.”
“That wouldn’t be denying myself. A wife is exactly what I want.”
“Don’t I know that?” Christopher chuckled. “What about the black-haired beauty with green eyes you spoke of the other day? You can’t marry until you have found her. I bet she would make a pleasing wife.”
It was Marcus’s turn to laugh. “What if the lady is completely unsuitable? She could turn my life upside down. Making outrageous requests of me and upsetting my mother. Life would be—”
“Unpredictable and glorious. Can’t you just see it? Chasing her around the bedroom? Making love in the fields? Wouldn’t it be nice to not be forced to temper your thoughts or tongue for fear of upsetting her maidenly sensibilities?”
The image ran all too clearly in Marcus’s head. He could see Isabella easily in all those places. And, a large part of him wanted her there. The very thought had his heart racing. He wondered what she would think of his current reflections.
“I suppose I can see the appeal—for some men—but not for me.” The words caught in his throat. Did he truly mean that? His experience with women was very limited. As a matter of fact, he could count the number of kisses he had shared on one hand. Beyond that . . . well, he didn’t need his hand to tally those experiences.
“Perhaps you need to try it first. I know your beliefs on keeping a mistress, but I know a few women who wouldn’t need that designation or any compensation beyond what you provide in bed.”
Marcus tried hard to keep from groaning. For years, Christopher had been trying to get him to bed one of his past conquests. The idea of using a woman in that way had never appealed to him. He respected them too much to seek one out simply for his gratification.
“Can’t you ever talk about anything else?” Marcus complained. “Your offers of women get tiresome.”
“If you experience the full delights, you would understand how it would be with different women. A dispassionate lady in her daily activities will not turn into a temptress in bed.”
“Perhaps there is something to having a sedate lady in your days and nights.”
Christopher laughed. “I believe you are the only man to ever say such an untrue statement. Well, I will leave you to your boring evening. I have plans.” With a wink, his friend left him standing there, alone.
~ ~ ~
The next night as Marcus sat in the drawing room with Miss Ashford and his mother, Christopher’s claims came back to him. The evening meal had been pleasant, filled with calm observations and light subjects. Nothing like the time Isabella had joined them.
“The fire is nice,” his mother remarked, stretching her legs toward the fireplace. “I must say, I am quite grateful for the warm weather that has been rolling in.”
“I, too, enjoy the spring. I have been pleased to be able to return to gardening. Annalise was right that the one here needed some care.” Miss Ashford gave his mother a warm smile.
The exchange didn’t spark anything in him. They were speaking of the weather, for God’s sake. It was as if his friend had purposely planned this night to show him what he would be resigning himself to if he married Miss Ashford.
His mother shot him a look that expressed her dissatisfaction with his silence. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to care. What could he add that would help this evening? If he stood and invited Miss Ashford to accompany him to the darkened garden, she would be appalled. Besides, it would only change the location of their insubstantial conversation.
“Well, I suppose it has moved past my time to retire. I find myself getting tired sooner as my days stretch on.” His mother’s voice was loud and exaggerated. “Would you two young people please excuse me?”
Miss Ashford got to her feet. “I can accompany you, my lady.”
As Marcus struggled to stand as well, he saw his mother’s disapproval aimed at him. What had he done now?
“That isn’t necessary. Besides, my son needs someone to keep him company. These past days, I’ve not seen the two of you spend much time with each other.”
Ah, yes. The ever-present matchmaker. Marcus wondered why Miss Ashford hadn’t told his mother of their arrangement. That would ease her concern and save them from situations like this. Especially considering his mother had forgotten to mention a chaperone. He wanted to groan, but suppressed it. Was her plan to tarnish the girl’s reputation?
Once his mother left, Miss Ashford settled back into her chair, seemingly unaware of the lack of chaperone. “I do hope she is all right. My father would go through bouts where he was unable to stay up until his normal time to retire. It typically happened before one of his sicknesses.”
Anger at his mother heated his cheeks and replaced his earlier concern. The girl had lost her father less than a year ago. His mother should have known better than to give an excuse that would lead Miss Ashford to this line of thinking.
“Don’t worry yourself. My mother is known for using that excuse when it suits her. Tonight, I believe she wanted us to spend some time alone.”
“I see. What do you suspect she hoped would happen?”
“My guess would be that she hopes we will discover similarities that would encourage us to wed.”
“That is unnecessary. If we wish to get to know one another, we can do so after we are married.”
Discomforted by her revelation, he squirmed on his chair. “I know how you feel, but it isn’t supposed to work that way. Don’t you think marriage would be so much more enjoyable if you shared interests with your spouse?”
“I suppose, but that’s not a requirement.”
“I disagree. You should at least have some kind of desire for the man you intend to marry.” Knowing he wasn’t getting through to her brought out his frustration. “Kiss me.”
Her shocked eyes widened as she gazed upon him. “What?”
“If you want to marry me, I want to know it is for me, not my house. You and I both deserve better.”
She laughed, a nervous sound. “My lord, this is highly inappropriate.”
Not willing to give up easily, he stood, crossed the room, and sat beside her on the sofa. The idea of kissing her didn’t inflame his skin the way it did with Isabella. Even Miss Ashford’s proximity did nothing to his ability to think. But, with Isabella . . .
“Not if we are considering marriage. I daresay that will entail much more than a simple kiss. Besides, I promise this won’t hurt at all.”
She swallowed. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Her hands worried at a ruffle on her gown. “Perhaps it would be best to wait until after I am your wife.”
Irritation sat heavily with him. “If you can’t kiss me now, we can’t wed.”
Determination flared in her eyes, and she turned to him, pressing her lips against his. The barest of touches, then it was over. Nothing. He’d felt nothing. Even when his mouth had touched Isabella’s briefly, he had felt a spark. Not to mention the itching for more.
Christopher had been right. The realization weighed him down. With Miss Ashford, he could never know true passion, and neither would she. However, with Isabella, he may never know peace. In the end, that one kiss had settled it for him.
“Are you satisfied now?” Miss Ashford demanded.
Marcus wanted to laugh. Not in the least. That kiss had managed to change everything he had ever wanted from his life. And, the one woman he needed to achieve his desires was someone who would never even consider him.
“Are you? Did you feel anything for me?”
“Besides anger, no. Honestly, your little display has helped me to know there is more I need to understand about men. I must accustom myself to your more unpredictable nature first.”
He let out a breath. “That’s not what this exercise was about.”
“I realize that. I also now see your purpose. You do wi
sh to drive me away.”
Feeling guilty, he grabbed her hand, drawing her attention. “I told you at the end of your visit, we would decide if we were still interested in marrying. I haven’t changed my mind. If I am what you want, then we will wed. I just need to hear you say it.”
“And, what of your desires?” Her voice was small.
Marcus took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
Chapter 7
Weariness tugged at Isabella’s feet as she moved through the forest to deliver her letter. Fighting both Henry and Raymond proved to be exhausting. Not for the first time, she wished being herself wouldn’t incur punishments.
When she arrived at the agreed upon location, she slid the letter in the pouch then straightened. She looked around with her hands on her hips. What should she do with her current freedom? She could visit Lady Burman, but then she would have to fight the viscount. At the moment, she didn’t have the strength to battle anymore.
Dropping herself down on a cool rock, she drew her knees to her chest and laid her chin on top of them. What was it about her new fascination with Marcus that made her so unhappy with her life? She’d never felt so displaced before. But, when she was with him, an ease existed between them that she couldn’t deny. She wanted so much more.
A shadow fell over her. “Isabella, are you all right?”
Marcus’s voice was the most welcome sound she’d heard in a long while. Her melancholy melted away as she drew her head up to look at him. She smiled at the concern on his face.
“I am now,” she admitted. “Would you care to join me?”
He sat next to her, his side pressing against hers in order for both of them to fit on the small space. Her heart pounded at the contact. Something about him made her feel jittery on the inside.
“After these past few days, I’d begun to think you’d changed your mind about writing to me. Then, it hit me.”
Ensnaring Lord Starsen Page 8
