WitchofArundaleHall
Page 5
Heat snaked through his veins and he tightened his hold on her. Madame de Laval had been right. Sarah belonged only to him tonight. Another time he might show her the delights of coupling with more than one person but this was a special evening.
Sarah stopped at the bottom of the stair and gripped his arm. “I…must change before—” She bit her lip and focused her gaze on his boots.
He tipped her head up and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. “I will give you a few minutes.”
Her lips trembled and she searched his face. What did she need to see? “Perry, I am afraid,” she whispered.
What could he do? He wrapped his arm around her waist and cupped her face with his other hand. With determination and force he captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, a taste of what was to come. When he broke away he was pleased that her eyes were clouded and her body was pliant against his. “I am yours, Sarah. I will protect you and keep you safe.”
Her gaze cleared and she cocked her head to the side. “And who shall protect me from you, sir?” Her voice was filled with warmth and amusement.
He nipped at the tender flesh under her ear and whispered, “I promise you will beg me tonight and like it.”
She shuddered and he stepped back to give her room. “Be ready, Sarah.”
He watched intently as she fled up the stairs, her skirts rustling wildly.
On the count of ten he raced up the steps after her.
* * * * *
“May I get you anything else, miss?” the maid asked her with a sweet smile. Sarah could only shake her head, her stomach churning and rolling, her pulse jumping.
It was sweet of Madame de Laval to send a maid to help her undress. Sarah was well aware that her new husband awaited her in the next room, a sitting room off the bedroom where she stood with her hands twisted and her heart pounding. The bed seemed too large and the room too quiet.
The maid, whose name Sarah had forgotten in her anxiety, must have closed the door loudly enough that Perry knew she was alone.
Was she ready for the evening Perry had in mind? Her body was warm and desperate for the sensation of his touch. Her heart was panicked.
A gentle knock, barely noticeable, made her jump. “Come in.”
Perry opened the door and closed it quietly behind him. When he turned, her mouth went dry. Years of drink and revelry should have marred his perfection. In spite of those years he was handsome beyond belief. His hair was a little longer than fashion demanded and the raven color seemed to have a bluish tinge in the dim candlelight.
He stalked her, his movements slow and deliberate, his eye color the luminous blue that indicated the beast was close. Arousal and fear rose, her throat tightened and her heart pounded. He knew it all, she was sure. His senses were sharpened when the wolf was close. Though his appearance was human, she recognized the beast beneath that demanded its mate.
She bolted. Silly, really. He captured her easily and growled in her ear. Was she afraid of him? Not because of the wolf. It was the man who terrified her. The beast wanted her body, her submission. The man owned her heart and could destroy her. Hadn’t she seen it happen?
Even as his mouth traveled over her skin, nipping at her neck, his grip bruising, she struggled. She could not allow him to control her with this…this obsession. Her body was on fire, wanting those things that appalled and frightened her. She wanted him to strip her, strike her as he had before, bind her to the bed and fill her with his cock.
“No,” she cried, and pushed him away. No. She could not do this. If he had her again, touched her body with the rough caresses she craved, she would never leave him. She would beg him to do the very thing that would trap them both in a dismal future.
“You only wish to addle my thoughts so I’ll give in to your lust and you can Claim me.”
His eyes narrowed, the dangerous luminous blue revealing the beast beneath. “I gave you my word.”
Her resistance weakened. She had to keep him from touching her. “Your word,” she said, putting every ounce of contempt into her tone that she could, “why should I take your word?”
He had not moved from where she had shoved him, his face pinched with unspoken pain and his fist clenched. The luminous blue shade was gone and the gray, hurt-filled gaze only wrenched her heart more.
“Have I been that unreliable, then?”
It had to be done. She could not trust herself with him and had to drive him from her. “Do you think I don’t know you? You’ve been a wastrel, a drinker. You allowed Elizabeth to support you. And now, after six months, I’m to believe you’ve changed?” Sarah’s heart shattered as she noted the way he flinched at her accusations, but it was for the best. “I have married you as you insisted but that is all.”
The silence between them was painful. He was still, as if frozen. When he spoke, his words were slow and careful. “That is all? You are my mate. Do you deny it?”
“I deny anything so barbaric.” She inhaled a sharp breath at the defeated, hurt expression that flitted across his face and was gone.
Stiffly he bowed at the waist. “As you wish.”
“Perry,” she said, trying to heal the hurt she knew she’d caused. “We mustn’t yield to temptation.”
His gaze narrowed. “You are my wife.”
“You cannot promise me you will not Claim me. If you touch me—” She would surrender. Couldn’t he see that? No. All he could see was that she wouldn’t let him have her.
“You make no sense. I can see that you want me,” he said arrogantly, and reached for her.
She darted away from him and winced at the shock on his face. “Lady North said—”
“She’s a liar.”
“Will you take that chance? If I submit to your lust and I am unable to break the curse, then—” She didn’t want to say the words.
“What? Is it so horrible to be mated to a man who carries a beast beneath the surface that you would rather break the curse than be with me?” He clearly didn’t understand.
“There’s more at stake than our lust, Perry.” She inhaled deeply and spoke. “I can’t do this. Any child I bear will die.”
“I promised I would not Claim you. Without my seed you won’t get with child.” He lifted an eyebrow mockingly. “You do know where babies come from, don’t you?”
“Lady North said—”
Perry threw up his hands. “Why do you believe anything she says? Is that woman to control everything, including my bedchamber?”
“She showed me copies of scrolls from Bayeux. That’s why I must go there to see them. That’s why—”
“None of this explains why I am not bedding you on our wedding night,” he interrupted her in a flat tone.
“I cannot take that risk.” She knew he would never understand how important it was for them both that she resist.
The harsh expression on his face made her despair. His tone was expressionless. “So you don’t believe me.”
How could she deny it? She trusted him but the beast beneath was unpredictable. “Can’t we remain friends? Can’t we—”
She stopped at the steady, numb-looking expression on his face. “Friends? My word would count for something then, wouldn’t it?” He shook his head. “We were never friends, Sarah. But I will not force you. I could convince you but you would hate me in the morning.” He stepped closer and gripped her arm. She shuddered, her blood pumping and her heartbeat erratic. When he jerked her into his arms she could only stare at him.
His lips pounded hers, a wild, frantic kiss that melted away any thought of resistance or abstinence. When his tongue swept inside her mouth she tangled hers with it. When his hands threaded through her hair she moaned. His cock pressed against the fiery juncture between her thighs that ached for him, needed him. She was lost.
Then he tore his mouth from hers and released her. She stumbled backward, her knees like water. She couldn’t bear to see the wretched hurt in his gaze or the anger in his tightened lips and clenched fists.
“Perry—”
He gave her a jerky bow and left the room, slamming the door behind him with a solid bang.
Sarah collapsed on the bed, tears streaming down her face.
Time passed but she paid no attention. Her candle had burned down low and her eyes were swollen and sore from crying. She was a fool. Why couldn’t Perry understand that she could not bind them irrevocably together like that? Why did he force her to push him away?
She’d hurt him badly, she knew. During the years spent as an invisible servant in his home she’d seen him when his spirit had been crushed by some careless word or callous treatment from his extended family. She had seen that pinched expression many times. Now she had been the cause of it.
Sarah lay facedown on her bed, her crying fit over, her head aching, and wondered if she was doomed to unhappiness. In the wee hours of the morning she reviewed every touch, every look Perry had given her. What else was a bride to do when she had turned out her groom and lay weeping on her bed?
The day they were scheduled to leave for France seemed an eternity away. How was she supposed to put on the act of a happy bride with things the way they had become? Worst of all, she and Perry were committed to attending a luncheon party in their honor. Invitations had gone out and there was no escaping it.
She stared at the ceiling of her room and wondered if Perry was asleep. It seemed hours since she’d tossed him from their bed. It was for the best. She had to break the curse and she was sure that could not be done if he Claimed her. The truth was that she was unsure she wouldn’t beg him to do just that, despite the consequences.
No. She had to remain strong. If the curse could be broken then they would be free of this…obsession. Yet what would it be like to be Claimed as his? To be marked, owned, possessed by him?
It aroused her like no other thought, no tableau she’d observed at Wolford House. The thought of his hands on her, restraining her, demanding her surrender made her wet with need.
She slid her fingers over her slit and stroked the nub there. Splinters of pleasure rippled through her. As she visualized Perry’s gaze on her, watching her fuck herself with her fingers, she gasped for breath. But she could not come. For what seemed like forever she rubbed herself, fucked herself with her hand, but she could not let go. She needed him to tell her to come.
“Bollocks,” she said out loud, and tossed the covers off. When she sat up she heard him just outside her door. It was him. It had to be. Her doubt was removed when an eerie, heartbreaking howl broke the silence.
She heard the agony, the desperation in his cry. Her own heart joined him in the sad loneliness. As she yanked the covers back over her head, she started to question whether it was really for the best. Or whether she was just afraid.
Chapter Six
The next few days were a torture and Perry knew his behavior left much to be desired. In truth he felt like a wounded animal, snapping at everyone and limping through his existence. Neither Madame de Laval nor Mr. Asher had asked any questions and that, at least, was a relief.
He believed none of the nonsense about Sarah’s children. It was another ploy by Lady North to torment them, to hurt the Arundale family. But he had his pride. He’d provided the protection of his name to his new bride and stopped the vicious rumors that Lord Robert had begun and Lady North had confirmed.
The news of his marriage had become the newest gossip, spread by Sarah’s selfish brother. The ton must be bored indeed to have found news of his marital state of interest.
Unfortunately callers stopped by the infamous Madame de Laval’s residence to visit the newly married couple. He had hoped to face them with confidence. Instead he was forced to sit coldly beside his wife, who refused to belong to him in any way except in name.
It made the calls by rejected women in his past painful. Unlike his father, Perry had refused to take titled women of the ton to his bed, since he had nothing to offer but blood and violence, and many of them had resented his…method of distancing himself. He had inherited a vicious tongue from his grandmother and it tended to let loose when he had been drinking. That had been, sadly, all too often.
Three days after Sarah had tossed him out of their bedroom, stating that she did not trust him or care for him, he sat in the drawing room with another successful woman from the ton, a Lady Bastworth. She’d been Miss Greenway when he’d ignored her innocent attempts to capture his attention. As he remembered it, and his memory was hazy, he’d been a complete cad, laughing at her seduction techniques and offering her a critique to help her.
Now she was Lady Mary Bastworth, visiting her distant relation Miss Sarah Ayers. Her bright brown eyes were filled with curiosity and animosity toward him. “I have received my invitation to the luncheon, of course,” she said, and smiled at Sarah. Could Sarah see that it did not reach her eyes?
“We would have had a ball,” Sarah answered with a cold smile of her own. “But we are bound for France in three more days.”
“Oh, a trip to the Continent.” Lady Bastworth clasped her hands together. “I’m sure Perry will be an excellent guide.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” She turned to him and he stifled a heavy sigh. “I did not think you’d been to France, Perry.”
Was he the only one who could hear the bitterness in her words? “I have not. Perhaps Lady Bastworth is thinking of my brother. He lived in Jamaica.”
But nothing was going to shut the woman up. “I was thinking of your…knowledge of the Continental ways,” Lady Bastworth said with a sly glance at him. “Perhaps I misunderstood you.”
Behind those sharp brown eyes was the young girl to whom he’d been so cruel. He tried to remember that. “Did you?”
“I’m sure I did,” Lady Bastworth continued, and gave Sarah a quick glance. “Your manners were so…different from all my rather gauche acquaintances.” She leaned forward and touched Sarah’s knee. “Once, when we attended the same ball, he explained the intricacies of…certain items. I was certainly shocked.” Then the woman smiled at him. “Perhaps he found me too…innocent.”
He’d had enough. “You are quite right to say my manners were different. I was a brute, drunk and angry at our last meeting, and treated you abominably. You certainly did not deserve my censure.” He rose to his feet and took the woman’s hand and kissed the air above it. “I can only offer my sincere apology for my behavior. But your resentment against me does not warrant any slurs against my wife.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I assure you that I am being reticent compared to what is said in general.”
Sarah clenched her hands together and stared at them in her lap. Perry felt helpless against this tide of antagonism, which was now directed toward her but was his to own.
“Perhaps you have not heard,” he said harshly, his gaze narrowed on Lady Mary’s face. “We are man and wife. That is all the ton requires for respectability.” He opened his mouth to say more, something that would end the conversation once and for all. Instead he remembered this woman as she had been—a young girl who had been humiliated by a cad. “I am sorry, Lady Mary, that I was a brute to you in the past. That is all I can offer. My wife is a woman deserving of your good opinion, the daughter of a gentleman and from a good family. I am well aware that I am the one with whom you have a quarrel. Perhaps my absence will remedy the situation. If you will excuse me.” Perhaps if he left, Sarah would not be subject to such animosity.
As he strode toward the door, Mary’s voice halted him. “Wait.”
He turned back and Mary stared at the gloves in her hands. “I thank you for your apology, Perry. I will not deny that I came here to seek restitution.” Her gaze met his.
He bowed and opened the door. “I hope that I have, for once,
provided you satisfaction.”
The woman shot a glance at Sarah then back to Perry’s face. “You once told me that a woman who threw herself at you held no attraction for you. At the time I believed you were criticizing me. But you weren’t, were you?” Mary’s head tilted, her expression one of curiosity.
“No,” he said. “Though I will admit I hoped my words would hurt you. I believed a woman interested in me was a fool. That I am married to Lady Sarah is due to luck, not merit.” When he met Mary’s gaze he twisted his lips into a smile.
She studied him seriously. “I find that I am getting no enjoyment from watching you in pain, Perry. I find it only makes me pity you both.” Sincerity rang in her tone. No, she had not been entirely comfortable in the role of vengeful woman. But he had been particularly cruel in his dealings with her.
It took effort but he forced another smile. “Clearly a woman deeply in love. I can only say that your husband is known to me and you are a very lucky woman. You deserve every good thing, Mary, and I wish them all for you.”
She held out her hand. “I forgive you, Perry. I do most earnestly.”
As it was much more than he deserved he accepted her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Lady Bastworth.”
The woman turned to Sarah and pulled on her gloves. “I was mistaken about you, Lady Sarah. I can see that. I can see that with you Mr. Arundale is much improved. You are a better woman than I.”
Sarah rose and curtsied. “Thank you, Lady Mary.”
When Lady Mary was gone Sarah would not meet his gaze. “I will make sure there will be no more callers.”
Perry nodded and went to the window to stare at the London street below. He had hoped to avoid these collisions with his past but he supposed they were inevitable. No wonder Sarah wanted nothing to do with him. His past was a strike against him.
“The luncheon is tomorrow at one,” she said as she returned to the drawing room.