Lyon's Bride and The Scottish Witch with Bonus Material (Promo e-Books)

by Maxwell, Cathy

  “You appeared very obliging to her,” Thea had to say in the face of his reasonable explanation.

  He took a step back, as if he needed a hard look at her. His voice dropped. “What do you want, Thea?”

  She crossed her arms, suddenly needing a barrier between them. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Then why do you care which woman I favor?”

  “Because,” she said dragging the word out while thinking of a reason. “I never thought of you as a womanizer.”

  “A womanizer?” he repeated as if not believing his hearing.

  It did sound preposterous, yet Thea felt she had good cause to call him such. “Lady Sophie feels she has captured your affections. She believes you are very interested.”

  “You know how aggressive Lady Lila is. Yesterday, I used Lady Sophie to keep her at bay. This morning, you didn’t like that. So, today, I let Lady Lila have her lead and, yes, she plastered herself to my side. But what can I do without being rude? She is a very forceful young woman.”

  “So you are leading both of them on?” Here was a fault to support her accusation, although, yes, she knew she was being slightly unreasonable.

  “I’m not leading anyone anywhere, Thea. You know what I’m looking for. I don’t understand why you are being so crotchety.”

  “Crotchety?” She couldn’t believe he’d accused her of such a thing.

  “Difficult,” he amended.

  “Oh, no, you said crotchety.” She wasn’t letting him off on this one, and it felt good to have something firm and reasonable to explain her feelings.

  “I meant difficult,” he reiterated, punctuating the word with one finger aimed at her. “As in, not knowing your own mind, as in fussy, as in hot and cold. I haven’t known what to expect from you since we arrived here.”

  Thea took a step forward. “I’ve been very clear in what I’ve been trying to do. Marrying someone you do not like is the ridiculous notion. It’s not natural.”

  “Do I have to explain myself again—”

  “No, I don’t think I could stand to hear it again.” And that was true, but she wasn’t certain why. It was his life. He could do what he would. Still . . . “It’s not natural, my lord. It’s not sane.”

  “It’s what it is,” he replied bleakly, the anger leaving him. “It’s what it is.”

  They stood in the foyer, the door still open, the evening sun filling the room with light—and Thea wanted to grab him and shake him for all he was worth. He was too good a man to marry someone like Lady Lila or into the Carpsley family. He deserved better. Much better.

  He was a man of substance, a man who had values and was respected. A noble man.

  And yet he was so obstinate, so convinced he was right in his actions, that he’d throw himself into marriage with some ninny-headed, selfish chit—

  “I don’t want to see you trapped in marriage,” she whispered. “I know what it is like, Neal. I was trapped. And marriage is more than having children. It has to be.”

  “I don’t expect you to approve of my decisions, Thea.”

  “It’s not a matter of approving or disapproving,” she said. She raised a hand as if to take hold of his arm, to urge him to heed her warning, but then drew it back. “I just don’t want—”

  She broke off, suddenly uncertain of what she didn’t want. She didn’t want him in a loveless marriage . . . but did that mean she didn’t want him in a marriage at all? With any woman?

  For the past five minutes they had been circling each other. Either could have walked away at any moment, and yet they hadn’t. Worse, she’d been going on like a jealous fishwife—

  This could not be.

  They were friends, nothing more. Nothing more.

  He frowned, concerned. “Thea, is something the matter?”

  She was so aware of him, from the cowlick that gave his hair a little lift above his brow, to the shape of his earlobes, from the weave of the material of his jacket to the dust on his boots—and yet he was here to marry another. He didn’t hear the jealousy in her words.

  And he’d already walked away from her before.

  Neal wasn’t like her. He didn’t have to care.

  “Everything is as it should be,” she said, choosing her words carefully. She took a step away from him, and then another. “You are right. You are handling this whole situation well—”

  “Thea—”

  She held up her hand to block any more words between them. “I shall see you at supper.” She took off up the stairs, running from him as fast as she could.

  At the top of the stairs, she looked back. He was on the first step, as if he’d started to follow and then had thought differently of it.

  For a long moment, their gazes held. She understood. They could not be. He would not change his path.

  And then he turned away, walking toward the sitting room, where the other men were enjoying a drink.

  Thea waited until he was out of sight, and she felt defeated. This was not right, but it wasn’t her place to tell him. She had overstepped her carefully erected boundaries.

  She started toward her room and almost walked into Mirabel, who had come up behind Thea without her knowledge.

  Mirabel reached out and caught Thea before she ran into her. “I’m so sorry,” Thea said. “I didn’t see you.”

  “I am hard to notice,” Mirabel answered. “Are you feeling quite the thing? You look pale.”

  “I’m fine,” Thea said, moving past her friend. “Everything is fine.” She kept moving and didn’t stop until she reached the inner sanctum of her room, and there she collapsed.

  Sitting at her dressing table, Thea studied her reflection in the mirror. “You are a fool,” she told herself. “Twice over.”

  Of course, her reflection didn’t argue.

  But there was no time to waste feeling sorry for herself. Thea had to think of her sons. That traitorous yearning for someone special in her life, that desire for love and all it promised, were not for her. She’d had her chance, and she’d bungled it.

  And perhaps her words with Lyon hadn’t been such a bad thing. It brought him down to earth from her youthful dreams of “what might have been” to “what is.” Since everyone had their own self-interest at heart, including Lyon, with his talk of sons and curses, and Mirabel, with her social climbing, well, perhaps Thea should be mercenary as well. If the Carpsley connection could place Jonathan in Westminster, why shouldn’t she take advantage of it?

  In truth, the possibility of dirty play and troches from Lord Corkindale made Thea determined to keep the willful Lady Lila from becoming the next Lady Lyon.

  There, she now had a purpose.

  So determined, Thea dressed for dinner.

  Lady Sophie joined them at the table, and Lyon paid great attention to her. Thea decided over the creamed peas and her third glass of wine that they would make beautiful children—Sophie with her blonde beauty and Lyon with his dark handsomeness. Oh, yes, adorable children. She smiled as the footman refilled her glass.

  Thea didn’t usually drink more than one glass, but today had been a challenging day.

  And it continued to be a challenging evening. Lady Lila did her best to reclaim Lyon. He kept his distance. He, Mirabel, Sir James, and Lady Sophie were involved in a spirited game of cards that had all the others gathered around them. Thea’s presence was not needed, and it made her feel a bit alone.

  He also didn’t look at Thea. Not once.

  She knew because she kept her eye on him.

  Mirabel excused herself from the table, giving her card hand over to Miss Pomfrey. She wandered over to where Thea sat in a corner. “What is the matter with you?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Thea answered.

  “You are glaring at people.”

  “I am not.”
>
  “Yes, you are,” Mirabel insisted. “You are giving a cold, hard stare.”

  “You are being ridiculous.”

  In answer to that charge, Mirabel went away in a huff.

  But the exchange did make it clear to Thea that she was not fit company. She and Mirabel never argued. She excused herself and retired to her room, aware as she climbed the stairs that, yes, she was a bit tipsy—and she missed her sons. They kept her grounded.

  Of course, wine made one maudlin. As she wandered toward her room, she wondered if alone was how she would always be. She didn’t regret it. She was happier alone than in her marriage, but still . . . didn’t life have more to offer?

  “Apparently not,” Thea murmured to no one in particular. She didn’t wait for a maid but undressed herself, not bothering to braid her hair as was her custom, and climbed into bed.

  She was half asleep when there was a knock at the door.

  Thea rolled over on her back, annoyed. “Yes?” she said, half expecting to hear Mirabel’s voice, probably on some mission to chastise her more.

  “It’s Nessa, Mrs. Martin. I need to speak to you.”

  Assuming the maid wanted to help her undress for the night, Thea said, “I am already in bed, Nessa. That’s fine.”

  “I need to speak to you.”

  The hushed urgency in the maid’s voice penetrated Thea’s wine drowsiness. She came up on her elbows. “Come in.”

  The door opened, letting in light from the hallway’s lamps. Nessa hurried to Thea’s bedside and knelt. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said, her voice low, as if she was afraid of being overheard, “but there is something afoot that you should know.”

  “What is it?”

  “Lady Lila’s maid has become fast friends with one of the footmen. He told me she was bragging not five minutes ago that Lady Lila is determined to marry Lord Lyon.”

  This was not news. “And?” Thea asked.

  “She’s going to his bedroom this night and place herself in his bed. When Lord Lyon comes up to bed, her father will enter the room and accuse him of taking advantage of his daughter. Lord Lyon will have no choice but to marry her.”

  “What of his valet?” Thea asked.

  “He didn’t bring one. He’s been using one of the house servants. The maid said they’ve bribed him to make himself scarce while this all takes place.”

  “Not on my watch she won’t,” Thea said, anger bringing her wide awake. She jumped out of bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and grabbing her dressing gown.

  “What are you going to do?” Nessa asked.

  “I’m going to toss that little hussy out of his room,” Thea answered. “And then I am throwing both her and her conniving father out of Lady Palmer’s house. You might wish to distance yourself from this,” she advised Nessa as she went marching out the door. “It will become ugly.”

  Chapter Nine

  Thea nodded at the footman already at his station at the top of the stairs as she turned down the connecting hallway. But before she’d gone too far down the hall, a precaution struck her. She reapproached the servant.

  “Is everyone still downstairs?” she asked, knowing that he would answer because of her close friendship with Mirabel.

  “All but yourself, ma’am, and one of the young ladies.”

  “Which young lady?” Thea tried to smile and take the edge off her question.

  “I don’t know her title, ma’am, but she had dark hair.”

  Only Lila had dark hair. The game was on.

  “Thank you,” Thea said, almost relishing the challenge. She knew which room was Lyon’s. Mirabel would place him in her best suite.

  She knocked on his door.

  There was no answer.

  Boldly, she entered. A lamp burned on a side table. The sheets on the bed had been turned down. There was no one in it.

  That was a relief, although Thea had been looking forward to snatching Lady Lila up by the scruff of her neck and escorting her out of the room.

  Thea walked over to a chair beside the cold hearth and sat, her arms and ankles crossed. Lady Lila was going to be in for a surprise when she put her little plan in motion.

  The clock on the mantel ticked away the minutes. Thea waited, impatient.

  Ten minutes.

  Fifteen—

  The door opened.

  Thea rose slowly to her feet as Lady Lila backed into the room. The girl was trying to be very quiet and had her attention on not being seen by someone in the hallway, so she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone inside the room until Thea said, “Hello, my lady.”

  Lady Lila jumped straight into the air. Her dark, curling hair was down around her shoulders, and Thea doubted that she had anything on beneath the dressing gown she wore. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you,” Thea informed her smartly. “And now I’m going to escort you back to your bed.”

  “I’m not going,” Lady Lila announced. “The Lyon asked me here. We’ve been meeting every night.”

  “And I know that you haven’t,” Thea responded. “I have servants who will corroborate my story if you should be so unwise as to persist with your lies.”

  Anger flared in Lady Lila’s eyes at the mention of the servants.

  “Now,” Thea said, advancing on the girl, “if you are wise, you will return to your room and say nothing of this to anyone, because if you do, I shall put the word out about your schemes and you will be ruined. Do you understand—?”

  She wasn’t able to finish her sentence because Lady Lila doubled a fist and smacked her against the side of the head. Thea’s world spun. She couldn’t think, could barely see. She went to her knees and reached for the floor for balance.

  “No one tells me what to do. Especially if she is some ratty nobody who threw away her pride. No one cares about you. No one.”

  From the corner of her eye, Thea caught the movement of Lady Lila raising her hand to strike her again. Thea lifted an arm to protect herself.

  But the second blow never came.

  Thea turned to see Neal holding onto the hand Lady Lila would have struck her with. “What do you think you are doing?” he demanded in a low voice.

  Lady Lila started to shout, a sound that turned into a whimper when she saw who had her. She shook her hand free from him, backed up and charged out of the room as fast as her bare feet could take her.

  Thea wanted to tell Neal to stop her. The others should know how uncontrollable the girl could be, but her world was still spinning from the blow.

  Neal closed the door and knelt beside her. “Thea, are you all right?”

  She wanted to tell him that was the silliest question she’d ever heard. Of course she wasn’t all right. But she was so shaken that she couldn’t make her mouth work.

  He put his arms around her and she gratefully leaned against him for support. “Easy, easy,” he whispered. “Take deep breaths and relax.”

  Thea did as he said. She leaned her head against the strength of his shoulder and felt her whole body collapse against him. Her breathing became more normal, but she had a new terror to contend with—she’d started to cry, and she couldn’t stop it. All she had the energy to do was bury her face in the folds of his evening jacket and release all the pent-up doubts, fears and frustrations in huge, ugly-sounding sobs.

  And it felt good.

  How long had she been holding all this in? She was so tired of struggling to make her life meaningful, to provide for her sons, to overcome the disadvantages she’d weighed down upon them.

  Neal, God bless him, didn’t say a word. He was like a stone wall, strong, dependable, present. Thea couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned to a man for support. She couldn’t remember when she’d trusted one enough to be vulnerable.

  But this was Neal. She’d thought
his friendship gone from her life forever, but now he’d returned. Good, solid, kind . . . handsome . . .

  Thea didn’t know really how it happened. One moment she was leaning against him, crying her heart out, and in the next, his lips were right there, inches from hers.

  She didn’t know who moved first. She might have. Maybe he did.

  But at the first contact of his lips against hers, she was glad one of them did.

  Their kiss was tentative for all of four seconds, and then it became fuller. Deeper. More demanding.

  Thea had always enjoyed the intimacy of a kiss, and yet she’d sensed there had always been something missing.

  Here, in Neal’s arms, she found it.

  It hadn’t been just any man she’d wanted to kiss. She’d wanted this one.

  With stunning clarity, she realized what had been missing in her marriage. Yes, Boyd’s excesses had played a role in her disappointment. Their love had been shallow, a necessity, and, from her part, a bid for freedom.

  But she’d been searching in Boyd’s arms for what she experienced right now. She parted her lips, wanting to breathe Neal in.

  Their tongues met, touched, stroked. She tightened her hold around his neck. If she could have, she would have climbed right into his skin.

  And he felt the same. He was eager, hungry. His hand slid down her shoulder, rested on her waist a moment before slipping inside her dressing gown and cupping her breast. The touch vanquished all common sense, all taboos, all fears and doubts.

  This was Neal without the trappings or title, rank or responsibilities. This was the Neal she’d known all those years ago. She’d yearned for this man. She desired him. She wanted him inside her—

  “I say, what are you doing with my daughter?” Lord Corkindale’s voice shouted as the bedroom door was forcefully shoved open. The door hit Neal’s back, which was blocking it from opening fully, and threw him against Thea. She lost her balance and the two of them tumbled to the floor, Neal turning at the last moment so that he didn’t fall on her.

  The way no longer blocked, the door flew open and Lord Corkindale practically stumbled into the room in his enthusiasm, almost tripping over Neal and Thea.