His mouth found mine again. I could taste the sweet liquor on his warm tongue as it lashed against my own. I threaded my fingers through the dampened ends of his hair.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
That did it. I was lost.
Sebastian yanked his shirt from his trousers and undid the last of the buttons. Pressing in, skin to skin, he ran his hands over the curve of her buttocks, kneading them. Lost in the moment, he quickly slipped back to where they left off in the library earlier. Lowering his hand, he slid it down between her thighs.
“I want you… now.” He throbbed to be inside of her, he was so close… again. He seized her mouth with his own, delving his tongue inside, tasting her sweetness. “…Marguerite…” he murmured hungrily as he slid his free hand up her inner thigh.
It felt like a slap and I tensed, mortified—devastated. Marguerite… not Katherine! I felt like someone had just ripped my freaking heart from my body and tossed it carelessly to the ground. It had the same effect as a bucket of freezing water would have had—freezing me, humiliating me. I was such a fool. He thought I was Marguerite, and even worse, I had an awful feeling that he had already done this with her.
I was envious of Marguerite and filled with revulsion at my own foolishness. Of course, he thought I was Marguerite. I now knew Marguerite was a better copy of myself with better clothes. I saw that much in the vision. I wanted to scream at him, at myself, for my own stupidity and the dumb, idiotic legend.
“I can not…” Pressing my hands against his chest, I pushed him away and then yanked the thin chemise gown back over my breasts. Tears filled my eyes and my vision blurred. I couldn’t breathe.
Sebastian did not move. Not an inch. His eyes searched hers in confusion. His body felt abandoned and aroused at the same time.
I stared up into the stormy gray depths of his eyes, and my heart squeezed at the thought of him and Marguerite in this very same situation—I couldn’t take it. Stifling a sob, I covered my mouth as my eyes filled with more angry, humiliating tears. My resolve faltered as his eyes burned into my own. I couldn’t stand it a minute longer. I hated myself. Why? Why couldn’t I be more like Janice? She wouldn’t care if he thought she was someone else. Or would she?
Yes, even Janice would have cared that much. I had to go before I lost it completely.
“I am sorry,” I tossed out in his general direction and made a run for the bathroom. Slamming the door shut, I twisted the lock and rested my forehead against the wood. “Stupid… Stupid… Stupid!” I bumped my forehead against the wood, letting the tears finally fall.
Sebastian stepped forward. He had no idea what had just happened. What he did feel, was absolute perfection. His mind could not have conjured a more seductive scene. He was so close… again. Then he was literally abandoned. He knew she felt it as well, or did she? Did she remember her heart belonged to another?
Angrily, he raked his hands through his hair and then rubbed them over his face. He could not believe his own stupidity. How could he have foolishly believed it was over between her and the rakehell she had left him for?
He turned and crossed the room and lifted the bottle from the table. He paused and looked at the closed door that now separated them from one another. It was a silly door, that was no more than ten feet from him and yet it could have been a continent, there was suddenly so much space between them both. He strode purposefully to the door and pressed his head against the wood. He lifted his hand to knock—it was the same door she had literally shut herself away from him behind. His hand hovered over the wood, he wanted to see if she was all right and then, he could not. He could not do it. Instead, he forced himself to leave before he did something reprehensible, like beg her to think of him and forget the scoundrel that abandoned her.
No, he would not let her see his vulnerability, not her, not anyone. He was an idiot. He strode out of her chamber without a backward glance, tempted to venture outside and toss himself into the nearest snow bank. “Bloody Hell!”
ONCE A THIEF ALWAYS A THIEF
HAWTHORNE MANOR
JUDITH held her skirts in one hand as she ran through the corridors of Hawthorne Manor. She only stopped long enough to grab anything of value she saw and stuff it in her ever-growing satchel. The bag thumped loudly on the stairs as she dragged it down to the foyer. To catch her breath, she leaned on the hall table and looked about for anything else that may be light enough to carry.
“Think, Judith!” Her voice echoed eerily through the halls.
She turned and looked toward the study. The portrait of Isabelle and her creepy brother was hanging over the mantel. He was not unattractive. Actually, he was quite the opposite, but something was unsettling about the way he looked… something about what the artist had captured in his expression. Well, it did nothing for Judith besides give her the creeps. She turned away, but not before she noticed Isabelle was wearing her jewels in the portrait.
“Ha! Ha! Isabelle!” She was suddenly filled with giddy excitement. Not wasting another moment, she lifted her skirts high above her ankles again and took off up the curving staircase. She knew she would have to be quick if she was to get the hell out of here before Devlin returned. He was not someone she would wait for again. She may have had some feelings for the man, but after he pushed her into the wall and raged at her like a lunatic… well… she did not sign on for that type of abuse.
He was a bloody idiot and at the rate he was going he was surely going to have his neck stretched while his body danced for the hangman. She may have shared many things with Devlin, but she was not going to share his fate that was served up from his own stupidity. Certainly not. She was a survivor and knew when to get when the getting was good. How else could she have survived this long, if she had not left when it was prudent?
Luckily, she had the wherewithal to make some emergency arrangements if the little game Devlin and she were playing went awry. She only wished she had more time to collect the items she needed so she could leave with a little less haste.
“Well, there is nothing to be done about that now.” She sighed and stuffed the last pieces of jewelry into the drawstring bag as she walked across the room to the wardrobe and opened it up to retrieve Isabelle’s favorite ermine-lined, dark green cloak with the hood and matching muff. She pulled it out and hugged the items closely against her body. They would certainly keep her warm on a night such as this. An image of Isabelle’s face popped into her mind. She tried to force it away, but it lingered.
“I am not going to feel bad for taking these, Isabelle,” she yelled out to the empty room. “Yo... uu... You… should not have been so stingy when I asked for one… Isabelle.” Her voice caught on itself. “But nooo, could not get me one could you?” She pulled the fine items closer to her body as she left the bedchamber and made way down to the foyer.
Once at the bottom, she took one last look around and reminisced for a moment. Oh, she and Devlin, they did have some good times here. Images of Devlin flitted through her mind. His penetrating gaze, his easy laughter, his longevity in the bedchamber. Oh, he knew how to pleasure a woman. He had proven he was rather good in bed, and Judith had her fair share of bedmates to compare him to. Yes, her Devlin was definitely at the top of the list. “What a damn shame.” She shook her head.
KEY FIVE
“Oh well, I suppose I will have to start anew.” She reached down and grabbed the satchel that was about to burst open. She knew she should leave it, she would travel faster without it, but as always with Judith, her insatiable greed won out. Hastily she donned the cloak and grabbed hold of the heavy satchel once more. Not looking back, she dragged it and her other newly acquired possessions out the door of Hawthorne Manor and into the snow- filled night.
REGREAT LEAVES A BITTER TASTE
RAVENHURST
THE bathroom door creaked open and I stuck my head out and looked around. The room was empty. I wasn’t sure what I expected, for obviously Sebastian wouldn’t still be here,
especially after the way I left him. But in my own defense what was I supposed to do? Sleep with him after he called me another girl’s name. Of course, it wasn’t his fault, really.
I tried not to think about what could have been… or how good it probably would have been as I made my way to the bureau. I opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a fresh gown. It was another pretty thing. All white and ruffled, with flounces at the hemline. It had darling mint-green leaves embroidered down the neckline and on the cuffs. The robe was decorated much the same. It was a sweet ensemble. I pulled it quickly over my head and walked over to the mirror. I made a face. A stranger with overly bright eyes stared back at me. I touched my lips that were still reddened from Sebastian’s kisses.
I looked wide-eyed, innocent, and naughty all at the same time. I felt sure this was how girls enticed the lords of the estate. Of course, I wouldn’t have minded enticing one particular lord. Oh, how I wished he didn’t think I was someone else. I couldn’t help but wonder how I would feel tomorrow if I decided to throw caution to the wind and search him out, anyway. He did not even know my name but that in itself was freeing… wasn’t it? There were no rules in this past. There was no one to judge me. And the more I thought about it, the more I talked myself into thinking I may have been a bit too hasty in my original decision.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have ended the evening with him. What would it have been like to be with someone like Sebastian? How would it feel to have him make love to me? I was getting warm and bothered all over again. I placed my cool hands against my flushed face.
Seriously, who would I prefer to be with for the first time? One of my exes? Or a gorgeous man in the past who just left my borrowed room after stealing my breath with his kisses? I had already kissed plenty of toads. Not one of them had ever made me feel the way he did. I wasn’t a child.
No.
I was an adult and I was perfectly capable of making my own choices when it came to rolling around in bed. There was no one to judge. Why not?
“Yes… why not indeed?”
With my newfound resolve, I grabbed the handle of the door and opened it up. “Well there is no time like the present or in my case… the past.” A burst of giddy laughter erupted from me as I braced myself to seek Sebastian out for a redo.
A burst of frigid air poured against my back. It felt like someone had just opened up a window behind me, which didn’t make any sense. I was headed out the door and the breeze was blowing against my back from inside. And I didn’t open up any damn windows. It felt like I was standing outside in the snow, in a freezer. It was that cold. Instinctively, I stepped back, the cold air was making me second-guess my decision.
Maybe I was being too hasty. Maybe I should find the source of the breeze first and think about throwing caution to the wind for a bit longer. Once the deed was done, there was no going back. So I had better be sure.
Trying to locate where the breeze was coming from, I methodically walked around the room. And of course, I ended up right in front of the “you’re giving me one hell of a creepy feeling” wardrobe. Bending down, I looked under it. There were carved gargoyle talons wrapped around clear glass balls… were those wheels?
“Oh great… perfect…” More gargoyle crap. I stood back up and stared at the wardrobe. Something looked odd. I could have sworn it was over to the left more, closer to the mirror. Was it crooked? I pushed against the doors. The entire wardrobe swung back and slammed against the wall. “What the hell?”
Turns out it was just like the door to the library… it looked heavy, but it really wasn’t. Reaching out, I pulled the wardrobe away from the wall once more.
There was a big ass hole behind it. Shivers of unease swept over me. Freaking out, I stepped away from the hole. What really freaked me out was my sudden temptation to investigate.
“OH, come on! When did I become a detective?” Of course, I’d seen enough scary movies to know you never, ever, go investigating alone. Seriously, who in the hell did I think I was… Nancy freaking Drew?
“Please. Not even close.” I was a chicken, as in Kentucky Fried. I took a step forward and looked down in the hole. It was black as pitch and so cold, my breath turned white as I released it. Holding onto the wall, I stuck my head into the opening. “Is anyone there?”
JUSTICE MAKES A CRUEL BEDFELLOW
SOMEWHERE NEAR RAVENHURST
THE wind tore at Devlin, whipping his greatcoat. He pulled the brim of his hat lower as he rode his horse further into the storm. The snow was falling in earnest now, making it almost impossible to see. He tucked his chin down into his collar and lightly chuckled at the irony of it all.
He was actually lying to the staff when he said a blizzard was approaching. Now he was out in the middle of one. He came upon a lone tree in the middle of the field and halted his mount under the heavy canopy of snow-laden limbs to get his bearings. The trail he was following had disappeared under another fresh blanket of snow. He reached down into one of his saddlebags and pulled out the bottle of brandy he took when he left, and dismounted. Leaning against the base of the tree, he took a hefty swig of the fiery liquid and held it in his mouth before finally letting it slide down his throat to warm his innards. Wiping his hand across his mouth, he looked across the horizon. He did not even feel the cold any longer.
Everything suddenly seemed so useless.
What a pity. He had it all so neatly tied up, too, but he let himself become too arrogant and self-assured. Truly, he knew better than to entrust Judith with anything, or anyone, for that matter.
Leaving her with the care of Isabelle had been his second mistake. The first was getting involved with her in the first place. She was an idiot. Repeating his earlier ritual, he took another long pull on the bottle. He lowered it back down and shook his head. No, he had been a complete fool and let his more basic desires control his better judgment, and to what end? Did his mother not fall into the same trap? She trusted a titled gentleman, hoping he would pull her from the drudgery she had lived in every day, and what did that get her? Nothing, but a life worse than the one she already had. She had foolishly entrusted him with all her wealth and money, and soon became nothing more than a street whore, just like Judith. Of course, his mother did what she could to care for him.
Unfortunately, the only way she found to make a life for herself was to lift her skirts for coin, while waiting in vain for his father to return. She did her best, he supposed. She schooled him to be a gentleman of means, which, she assured him, was his birthright, although he was never as convinced as she was. She had dressed him in finery and had made sure he was educated. She told him he was their equal, the upper class. Never once admitting to herself or him that he was no better than the very people they both disdained. She told him repeatedly that his father was a very powerful man and would someday come for them.
But alas, that never happened. He was sure his life would soon end in much the same way as his mother’s until the auspicious day he stumbled upon Isabelle. She was older by at least two decades, but she was attractive and had a way with men, especially younger ones. She so loved younger men. She did not care a whit that he had no money of his own, for she had enough for them both, which she often told Devlin in the afterglow of their lovemaking.
She was his one-way ticket out of hell. She was even married once and widowed quickly. Devlin never knew what malady took her first husband, and he really did not care, especially since his demise left her a very wealthy woman. As an eccentric, she had little use for the rules of society. She openly flaunted many of her younger lovers in front of the Ton, an elite group of her wealthy peers, the upper crust. She would pull him aside at balls and whisper about the harpies, as she called them, but they were really a group of her so-called friends. She would laugh and tell Devlin they were turning green with envy since she was able to bed her choice of virile partners, while they had to bed down with old doddering fools.
Devlin was no fool. He knew she used him in her own way to rebuff
the standards society had placed upon her. He could not complain, for she was a skilled lover.
He laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all.
Of course, she was skilled…she had had a lot of practice. But that never really mattered to him, as she was a means to an end, and wealth was what he so readily sought.
They were quite a pair, the two of them, and truthfully, he never minded that she was older for a moment. He was even starting to become quite fond of her and their arrangement. That was until he met Marguerite, who stole his breath from his chest the very moment he laid eyes on her. She was a beauty beyond compare and in turn, he was smitten at once.
Of course, Isabelle was no fool. She sensed a change in him after he met Marguerite. Isabelle simply could not satisfy Devlin as she once had, and in turn quickly arranged a betrothal between Marguerite and her nephew, Sebastian. It may not have been so bad but Isabelle was not one to let sleeping dogs lie. No, she rubbed salt in the open wound of his heart and constantly droned on and on about what a wonderful man Sebastian had become, and continually reminded Devlin that he, Sebastian, was an earl and had a vast amount of money and lands, and blah, blah, blah.
It made Devlin sick every time he thought about that blasted do-gooder Sebastian, touching any part of Marguerite. He could never appreciate her the way Devlin did. Why was Sebastian allowed to fill his heart’s desire, and he, Devlin, was not? It made him ill to think too much about it.
He snorted in disgust and took another long pull from the bottle. Mayhap that was the actual start of his undoing. Had he not reached beyond his means, or been satisfied with the cards dealt him, perhaps everything would have turned out differently. His life was not so bad, after all. Was it not enough that he had, not one, but two women, begging for his ministrations in bed? Or that he had all the money available to spend that he could ever want or need, if only he asked Isabelle nicely? She was not tight with her purse strings. Actually, she was quite the opposite. She purchased his clothing, bought him the finest horseflesh, and had a carriage made just for him.
A Knight Such as This: Enhanced with Interactive Content: (Time Travel Romance) Book 1 & 2 (Ravenhurst Series) Page 15
