Whisper To Me of Love

by Shirlee Busbee

  In the very short time that Chambers and the other servants had been at Lime Tree Cottage, they had been busy preparing for the master’s arrival; the most obvious sign was the huge, fresh floral bouquets everywhere one looked. After seeing to it that Royce, Morgana, and Zachary were made comfortable in the spacious and exquisitely furnished drawing room and that they had been served with appropriate refreshments, Chambers said quietly to Royce, “Everything is unpacked and your rooms are ready whenever you wish to see them. We have seen to it that the larder has been stocked, and unless you object, Cook will have dinner ready at seven o’clock. However, sir, when you have a moment, I should like to discuss with you the additions that I have seen necessary to add to the staff.”

  Lounging carelessly in a comfortable high-back chair of green leather, Royce took a sip of his wine and replied, “Tell Cook that I see no reason to change her plans, and as for the other, I see nothing wrong with right now.”

  Chambers bowed slightly and admitted hesitantly, “I have taken the liberty of hiring a few young farm girls to help in the house itself, and after making inquiries hereabouts, I have also hired some gardeners to keep the grounds in order.” Royce nodded, and seeing that his actions provoked no reprimand, Chambers went on smoothly, “Coachman, too, has found it necessary to hire several young men to work in the stables.” He ended uneasily with “I’m afraid, sir, that between us, we have more than doubled your staff.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Royce said mildly. “I was aware that the move to the country would entail more staff—I’m gratified that you lifted that particular burden from my shoulders.” An attractive grin tugging at his chiseled mouth, he added, “I trust your judgment, so have no fear you’ll find complaints from me!”

  Obviously pleased, Chambers answered warmly, “Thank you, sir. I have done what I could, and once the others arrive from London, we should be able to provide you with a modicum of comfort. Will there be anything else?”

  Royce shook his head. “Not for the moment.” He glanced around at the others and added, “Unless, of course, Morgana or Zachary require your services.”

  Zachary shook his dark head, but Morgana, who had been oddly silent from the instant of arrival, spoke up and said in a small voice, “I should like to be shown to my room. I am very tired.”

  Royce gave her a thoughtful look, then shrugged. “Whatever you wish, my dear,” he said dryly. “Chambers will be happy to show you the way ... and should you dislike the room chosen for you, you can, of course, change it.”

  Morgana was still in such a state of shock at the magnificence and size of the “cottage” that it wouldn’t have mattered which of the ten bedrooms available Chambers denoted as hers. She was vaguely aware that it was a large, lovely suite of rooms—a bedchamber, sitting room, and dressing room, much like those she had used in London, although these were far larger and in some ways more charmingly furnished, with less formal arrangements and a delightfully airy feeling about the furniture. Her rooms were tastefully decorated in pastel shades of lavender, rose, and cream, but she paid her surroundings little heed as she wandered unhappily about the gracious bedchamber, not even sparing a glance out any of the tall windows on two sides of the room which revealed enchanting views of the parklike grounds that encircled the house.

  Not conscious of her actions, she finally stopped pacing restlessly about the room at a pair of French doors that opened out onto an enticing little balcony, and flinging wide the doors, she stepped outside. Though it was late afternoon, the day was still sunny and quite warm, and spying an elegant Louis Quinze chaise positioned invitingly near the wide wooden railing of the balcony, she walked over and lay down on it.

  Staring blankly at the blue sky overhead, she wondered dully how she had gotten herself into this position. She would freely acknowledge that she had not been thinking very clearly when she had put a price on her favors, but that aside, she had certainly never expected that Royce would even contemplate, much less buy, a place like Lime Tree Cottage for her. She might have been able to still the pangs of her conscience and to rationalize any qualms she might have had about what she was doing if the house had turned out to be what she expected—a pleasant little property, perhaps an acre or two, with a cozy three- or four-room cottage—but this! She swallowed. This was obscene—utter insanity for a man like Royce Manchester to throw away a fortune on a mansion like this simply to obtain entrance to a woman’s bed ... even her bed!

  She sighed unhappily, feeling rather confused and angry at the same time. Her life of late seemed to have spun off on a wild tangent, and nothing seemed to be going as planned—she could not even embark on the only sensible course for a woman in her position without it evolving into something far more perplexing and complicated than she had ever dreamed! Morgana scowled. If only she hadn’t botched the simple picking of a pocket! From that moment on, she had been swept up into a treacherous whirlwind that showed no signs of freeing her from its wild and erratic gyrations, and she cursed a fate that had hurled her willy-nilly into Royce Manchester’s life.

  If she was being fair, some of the events that had happened to her since she had first looked up into Royce’s lean, dark face would never be forgotten or regretted. It would be hypocritical to pretend that she had not thoroughly enjoyed her stay in the house on Hanover Square, had not reveled in the novelty of her own bed or a myriad of other simple things that had been denied her until she had met Royce Manchester. Nor, though she tried very hard to act otherwise, was she completely indifferent to her elegant surroundings or the many lovely clothes and objects that Royce had bought for her. And most important of all—she could never regret having discovered the utter rapture of being possessed by the man she loved....

  And if she loved him, she thought painfully, was it right to put a price on the unadulterated joy his lovemaking gave her? She could reconcile with her conscience what he had done for her so far, albeit with difficulty, but if she accepted this house, then she sullied and made ugly every moment she had ever spent in his arms. Feeling exceedingly wretched, she finally admitted something that she had been trying very hard to ignore—she already had sullied the love she felt for him simply by allowing him to buy for her the things that he had these past few weeks.

  Her eyes filled with tears, but angrily she forced them back. She would not cry! She might be a greedy, grasping harpy, but she was not a sniveling, whining baby! She had gotten herself into this situation, and somehow she was going to bloody well get herself out of it!

  As she jerked upright on the chaise, her mouth took on a stubborn slant. She would renounce everything that he had given her! She would ask, no, demand that she be put to work with the other servants, she would insist that she be treated no differently from anyone else who worked for him! And as for the powerful current of emotion that surged between herself and Royce ... She swallowed with difficulty. Somehow, and she didn’t delude herself that it would be easy or painless, she would have to overcome this unwanted love she had for him, force herself to forget the rapture of his embrace. After all, she reminded herself bitterly, I am nothing but a thieving pickpocket he plucked from the gutter, and there is absolutely no future for me in his life!

  At present, Royce Manchester wanted her in his bed—but for how long? And loving him as she did, was she willing simply to allow him to use her and then, when she bored him, toss her aside? Morgana knew the answer to that question; she only wished she had thought more deeply about what she had been doing when she had so rashly plunged willy-nilly into this position. For the sake of the love she felt for him and her own decidedly battered self-respect, she came to the unhappy conclusion that it would be far better to be his servant scrubbing the floors of his kitchen than to humiliate herself night after night by sharing his bed.

  Unfortunately, in all her thoughts, Morgana had neglected to consider several aspects of her current situation. With the one-eyed man lurking around every corner, it seemed, ready to snatch her for his own nefarious p
urposes, she was not precisely in a position to merely walk away if the relationship with Royce rapidly deteriorated. Nor had she even considered what Royce’s reaction to her decision might be....

  An hour later, she faced him in the lovely, pastel-hued bedchamber. Royce had barely entered the room when, not giving herself a chance to retreat, she said jerkily, “I must talk to you! This state of affairs cannot continue!”

  “And what particular state of affairs is that?” he replied with an indulgent smile on his mouth. “The long nights in your chaste, lonely bed perhaps?” A glitter in the golden eyes, his gaze traveled hungrily over her slim form, fully appreciating the expensive simplicity of the apple green muslin gown. “I can assure you that with the purchase of this house, those nights have come to an end!”

  He reached for her, but Morgana eluded his outstretched hands, dancing nervously away from him, and she uttered despairingly, “I cannot accept this house! I do not want it! It is obscene!”

  Royce stiffened as if he had been poleaxed, and risking a wary glance at his frozen features, she muttered, “I think it would be best for all of us if you simply let me go back to the kitchen and if we forgot that there was ever anything between us but the relationship of master and servant!”

  The tiger eyes narrowed dangerously, and in a menacingly silky voice, he asked, “Thinking to cheat me, my dear? It damn well won’t wash—I’ve paid for you and you’re mine!”

  CHAPTER 20

  Her heart thudding painfully, Morgana stared dumbly at him. She could not believe that he had so stupidly misinterpreted her words. She had no intention of cheating him, the bloody fool! She was trying, and rather handsomely at that, she thought angrily, to do the honorable thing! Hanging on to her temper with an effort and still hoping to try to explain her feelings to him, she closed her mouth with a snap when Royce said cynically, “Sweetheart, if you’re attempting to raise your price, it’s a little late for that! You’ve made your damned bargain and now you will have to, er, figuratively, sleep in the bed of your own making.”

  The gray eyes darkening like storm clouds, Morgana gritted her teeth and spat, “I’m not trying to cheat you out of anything! I am,” she said loftily, “merely trying to tell you that I cannot—”

  “That you cannot go to bed with me?” he interrupted her dryly. “Don’t you think it’s rather late to start adding further demands?”

  While she stood there fulminating with wrath, he walked over to her, and tipping up her face, he looked down into her stormy features and murmured, “It’s far, far too late, my dear, for any more protestations. You agreed to become my mistress—you named your price and you made the bargain.” A steely glint in his topaz eyes, he added, “I have no intention of allowing you to change your mind, and nothing you can say will stop me from claiming what is already mine!” Insolently his gaze roamed over her body. “For the moment, I own you—you set the terms of our agreement, and by God, you’re going to live up to your promise!”

  Her eyes blazing, she jerked her chin out of his hold. “You don’t own me! No one does—not even the one-eyed man!” She laughed bitterly. “I stayed with you in London of my own free will, you buffle-headed lobcock! Do you honestly think you could have kept me a prisoner if I’d really wanted to escape? Don’t delude yourself—I stayed under your”—she spat the word out insultingly—“protection because it was safer to put up with your demands than to risk the fate planned for me by the one-eyed man!”

  Royce’s face paled at her words and he said bitterly, “And to think that while I was cursing myself for taking advantage of you and suffering pangs of conscience for my treatment of you, you were merely using me for your own ends! How utterly foolish of me to have wasted one moment of regret on you.” He smiled caustically into her stunned face. “Forgive me! I’ll not make that mistake again!”

  Catching her up in his arms before she had a chance to react, he crushed her mouth beneath his in a contemptuously brutal kiss. There was such fury behind that kiss, such anger, that Morgana was helpless, and there was nothing for her to do but suffer the barely controlled savagery of his embrace. Her lips stung from the pressure of his and she struggled violently to escape his brutal kiss, moaning softly in protest against the plundering invasion of his tongue.

  At that sound, low though it had been, Royce seemed to come to his senses, and with a muffled oath, he flung her from him. She half stumbled, half fell against the bed, and eyes wide with apprehension, she looked back at him, almost expecting him to fall upon her like a ravening beast. She had never actually feared Royce before, but she did this time, and it was evident in the depths of those clear gray eyes as she stared at him, her body tensed as if for a blow.

  The expression in her eyes, the almost cowering posture of her slender body, struck him like a sword in the heart, and in a shaken voice, he muttered, “Oh Jesus! I never meant to frighten you. I only ... I only want to lov—” The anguish in his voice touched her deeply, and she realized instinctively that Royce could never hurt her, would never hurt her. But even if he would not physically harm her, her love for him gave him the power to wound her in ways he could not even guess. He would never know how difficult it was for her to remain where she was by the bed and not fly across the room to him, to wind her arms about him and offer him comfort.

  For an endless moment they stared silently at each other, then Royce smiled sourly. “I had such visions of pleasure about tonight, but I find that my appetite for you has been effectively killed.” She blanched and he said cruelly, “Oh, you needn’t fear that it has been stilled for all time; it is just that for the present, I find the idea of sharing your bed rather distasteful.” In a dangerously silky tone he continued, “Actually, you are to be congratulated! You have managed to milk a small fortune from me and you have cleverly managed to keep me from enjoying what I have paid handsomely for—no mean feat, my dear.”

  Rosy flags of temper flying in her cheeks, she spat angrily, “You bloody fool! How dare you insinuate such ugly things about me! If anyone should feel put-upon, it is me!”

  “Oh, and why is that, my dear?” he asked coldly. “Are you disappointed in my generosity so far? Or perhaps you are displeased with my lack of ardor?” His mouth tightened. “Believe me, we can remedy that fact immediately, if you like!”

  The expression in his eyes and the set of his mouth suddenly reminded Morgana of a stalking tiger, and she shook her head, no, and stepped hastily away from him, almost as if she feared he would pounce upon her.

  He smiled, not a very nice smile. “You are wise—my temper where you are concerned does not seem to be very stable. But don’t worry, sweetheart, I have no intention of making you pay your debts—at least not tonight... .”

  Morgana stared numbly up at his dark face, wondering desperately how things had gone so terribly awry. Gathering her shattered courage around her, she tried one last time to explain and said urgently, “You don’t understand—it’s not what you—”

  “No,” he interrupted in that same silky, dangerous tone he’d used a moment before, “it is you who do not understand. You’ve gained yourself some time, my dear, but that’s all you’ve gained. No one makes a fool of me, and certainly not a little slip of a woman like you. You will share that bed behind you with me, and you will be my mistress for as long as I want you.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his topaz eyes. “You may try to escape if you wish; I won’t even try to stop you. Just remember that unlike the one-eyed man’s efforts to date, I wouldn’t allow you to run very far, and when I found you ...” His smile was suddenly very cold. “When I found you, let’s just say that when I was finished with you, you wouldn’t want to run away from me again.”

  Royce glanced at the bed sardonically before he murmured, “Enjoy your solitary slumbers, sweetheart—they won’t be for long, I promise you!”

  He walked arrogantly from the room while Morgana remained frozen by the bed for several seconds after he had left. Finally, letting her breath out in a s
haken gasp, she sank down on the soft, feather-filled mattress, her thoughts whirling chaotically through her mind.

  Royce had said cruel things to her—as she had to him, she admitted guiltily. But he had threatened her, insulted her, and treated her shamefully, she thought angrily as she remembered that ruthless kiss, but ... Her face softened. He had also said that his treatment of her had not set easily with his conscience, and from his words, it was obvious that he had not merely slaked his passion with her body and then dismissed her from his mind. Her mouth drooped. He had also stated that he regretted his actions....

  Sighing, she got up and wandered unhappily around the room. What a devil of a fix! She was in love with a man with whom there was no hope of any future, helplessly enamored of a man who regretted, by his own words, making love to her!

  Lifting her chin proudly, she looked blankly around the lovely room. He may have regretted those times she had spent in his arms, but she did not, and she was not going to let his cruel words tarnish her cherished memories of being possessed by the man she loved. Let him regret their lovemaking—she did not!

  It wouldn’t have occurred to Royce to regret making love to Morgana—what he regretted, and regretted fiercely, was the circumstances surrounding those wondrous moments when he had lost himself in the sweetness of her body. However, at this moment, he did indeed regret everything to do with Morgana; a black scowl darkening his handsome face, he virulently cursed the day he had ever laid eyes on her! Too lost in the welter of confusion within his own emotions, he never even considered that he might have misunderstood the situation with Morgana, might have leaped to some very wrong conclusions!