Gabby held still, praying he would continue.
“There were times during our courtship that I found her petulant and difficult, but I ignored the signs that we didn’t suit. Her father was pleased she was marrying into the upper ranks, and I assumed she was happy with the match as well.”
Gabby swiveled on the seat to face him. “Camilla didn’t want to marry you?”
“It seems not,” he said with a grimace. “Perhaps that answers your question, but I suspect what you really wish to know is the reason I chose her over you.”
Her breath caught in a noisy wheeze.
He smiled ruefully and pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek. “I didn’t mean to shock you, but that is what you wish to know, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” It seemed pointless to deny it.
“You were still a girl.”
She had been fifteen. “I was old enough to know my mind.”
“And young enough for me to think you didn’t. Your likes and dislikes changed frequently. One day you preferred Mozart. The next Beethoven was your favorite. Besides, dangling after your best friend’s little sister isn’t right. I thought it was best if I found a lady closer to my age.”
Even now, his words cut deep. He hadn’t even acknowledged her letter. “And was it for the best?” she asked, a note of bitterness creeping into her tone as she eased away from him.
His arm tightened around her back and pulled her back in place. Lifting her chin up with the tips of his fingers, he traced her lips with his thumb. “You already know the answer.”
A crack of thunder echoed on the air, but it barely registered as she stared into his eyes.
“I never meant to hurt you, my love. Had I known my wedding would bring you pain, I would have arranged for a private ceremony.”
She frowned. “But you still would have married her.”
“I was young and stupid, Gabby. I can’t change the past.” Another loud boom startled them. His hand fell to his side. “It doesn’t appear we’ll make it to the next village in time. I’ll have Geoffrey look for someplace close to wait out the storm.”
Twenty-five
Even from a distance, the forbidding structure on the hill appeared abandoned. Lightning reflected off remnants of broken glass left standing in the windows of the crumbling walls as the carriage bumped along the overgrown road. Charring marred the ruins.
“Fire,” Anthony mumbled.
They might not find shelter in the castle, but perhaps an outbuilding would keep them dry and out of harm’s way. As the carriage rounded the last curve, a second wing came into view, the roof still intact.
Hopefully, the fire damage hadn’t spread beyond the west wing.
The carriage rolled to a stop outside the iron gate and Anthony climbed out. He needed to determine if it was safe before bringing Gabby inside.
She shivered when he assisted her from the carriage. “It’s eerie to see a place like this abandoned. What do you think happened to everyone?”
Anthony playfully tweaked her nose. “Don’t let your imagination run wild. It’s hard to maintain a home this size. I’m certain it made more sense to leave than try to restore it.”
Unruly shrubs scraped against the walls as the wind kicked up, and dark clouds rolled like ocean waves, bearing down on them. There wasn’t time to stall. “Wait here while I determine if it’s sturdy enough to enter.”
He and the outrider pushed through the gate and headed for the intact wing, passing through a large arch to reach the weathered door. A quick walk around the outside revealed no cracks in the stone exterior.
“Let’s look inside.”
After a couple of good pushes, the sticky door gave way with a loud crack. Inside, debris littered the bare floors and a smoky smell hung on the air, but at a glance the wing appeared to have been untouched by the fire. Anthony made a round of the lower floor, looking for sagging ceilings or defects in the rafters. When he was satisfied the structure wasn’t going to cave in on them, he returned to the carriage to collect Gabby.
The wind whipped her skirts at her ankles and a strand of ebony hair blew across her face. She pushed it aside, her eyes questioning.
“It will do,” he said.
She shuffled closer to him as they approached the front door, but her death grip eased once they passed through the threshold. “It’s not as bad as I expected. Just a bit chilly.”
“An imagination can be a dangerous thing,” he said with a wink. “Come this way. The drawing room is warmer and there’s a place to sit.”
He led her toward the room he’d discovered on his prowl through the first floor. Dim light trickled through the bank of smudged windows to cast the area in shades of gray. Dingy sheets draped the furniture as if someone expected to return when the home had been abandoned, but the thick layer of dust suggested no one had been there for a long time.
She released his arm and moved farther into the room. “Do you know who owns the house?”
“No, and I didn’t see evidence of anyone living in the caretaker’s cottage.”
Gabby wandered the room, inspecting the contents. “What do we do now?”
Anthony ripped a sheet from a fainting couch, slumped down on the lumpy piece, and rubbed his gritty eyes. “We wait.”
Gabby may have gotten a good night’s sleep, but he hadn’t. Every rut in the road had jostled her against him and kept his body alert and at the ready. The blasted traitor.
She glanced over her shoulder. “You look tired. Perhaps you should rest.”
“And what do you propose to do?”
“I’ll find something to entertain myself.” She opened a drawer to the writing desk and dug inside. “Aha! Paper.” The single sheet was curled at the edges and yellowed, but she beamed as if she’d uncovered treasure. She rifled through the other drawers, frowning. “But I don’t see any ink.”
Anthony lugged himself from the couch to search the fireplace. Finding a stick that hadn’t burned all the way, he retrieved a letter opener and whittled one end. “In lieu of charcoal,” he said as he handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She held up the stick for inspection and wrinkled her nose. “I suppose I can’t afford to be choosy. I’ll sketch while you rest. Go lie down.”
Needing no further encouragement, he stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes. Gabby’s skirts rustled as she moved around the room until she finally settled.
His arms and legs were as heavy as lead, but despite his exhaustion, sleep didn’t claim him. Rain pelted the windows; just a few pings at first, soon followed by the steady drumming of a downpour. Thunder shook the ground, but nothing to cause him concern.
An odd sensation, as if he were being watched, made his eyes flicker open. Gabby’s gaze slid over him, a fine line of concentration between her arched brows. She pressed her lips together as she turned her attention to her paper and made light, careful strokes.
Was she drawing him?
His heartbeat sped up. He closed his eyes and lay still so she wouldn’t stop working. The crude charcoal scratched against the paper, each sound vibrating in the room. His breathing shifted, becoming as volatile as the weather outside.
To have her gaze on him, knowing she took in every detail of his form, was arousing. How long would it take her to notice that rather telling detail? Well, he could do nothing about it. He imagined her hands exploring his body instead of her eyes, and his fingers itched to touch her. When he could no longer resist looking, he found her staring back with stormy blue-gray eyes.
He cleared his thick throat. “Are you sketching me in the nude?” he teased.
She answered with a sly smile and abandoned her drawing. “Perhaps.” She lowered beside him on the couch and wound her fingers in his cravat. Her thigh pressing against his hip made his blood simmer. “It would be easier”—she untied the first knot—“if you had on fewer clothes. For the sake of art, of course.”
His laugh sounded g
ruff. “For art,” he agreed.
He forced himself to stay still while she fumbled with his cravat. Her inexperience made him smile, even as she tried to hide it behind a flirtatious smile. When she moved to the fastenings of his waistcoat, a low groan escaped him.
“Do you really intend to draw me in the nude?”
She shrugged one shoulder, shyness showing in the hesitation of her fingers. “Shouldn’t I at least be afforded a peek? We are to be married soon.”
No, she most certainly shouldn’t be allowed a peek. That was for their wedding night. Her brothers would kill him otherwise. At this point, he was only risking permanent maiming for stealing away with her. But she looked so damned alluring with her mussed hair and flushed cheeks.
Oh, hell. He could hold his own against her brothers.
Capturing her at the nape, he pulled her down to cover her mouth with his. Her lips moved with his, returning his attack with vigor. She shifted on the couch and climbed atop him to work more furiously at unfastening his waistcoat.
He breathed her in, her essence filling him and giving him new life. Her taste and sweet scent always felt like coming home. This was how it was with Gabby. No one else had ever measured up.
When she finished with his waistcoat, he sat up, cradling her bottom so she didn’t tumble from the couch. She grappled with his coat and pushed it down his arms. He shrugged out of it and his waistcoat, then tore his shirt over his head.
“Oh,” she said on a breath. Her eyes roamed over him with an appreciative glint. “I’d forgotten how magnificent you are.”
He’d never been a vain man, but her admiration made him hungry for more.
He eased back on the couch as she traced his muscles. Fire followed in the wake of her touch. It felt good to have her hands on him again.
His abs twitched as her exploration traveled lower. She slid a finger into his waistband and caressed him from one side to the next. He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. He should stop her journey here, but he was so hard and the promise of her hand around his cock was difficult to resist. Still, a gentleman wouldn’t allow it.
Three more fingers nestled into his trousers, her knuckles brushing against the pale hairs she couldn’t yet see. God, why couldn’t he be an unapologetic rogue like most gents he knew? She wanted him. It was clear in her swollen lips and smoky gaze.
He gently circled her wrist. “Not this time, my love.”
She sat back on her haunches, her bottom snug against his groin. A deep blush rose up her chest and neck, and she didn’t seem to know where to look. “I’m s-sorry.”
He didn’t want her embarrassed by her desires any more than he wanted to keep his word to wait until they married to bed her. “Don’t apologize. If our circumstances were different, I wouldn’t stop you.”
When he’d given his word to Drew, he hadn’t anticipated this moment. She would be his wife by now if their courtship had run its course, and they would be in London, not seeking shelter among castle ruins in the middle of nowhere.
If Thorne had stayed the hell away from her.
He let loose a string of curses in his mind. Why had she accepted Thorne’s proposal? It made no sense. Before he could ask, her hand landed on his pocket where he kept his lucky talisman. His heart tripped.
Her brows arched as she probed the hard lump. “What is this?” She dug into his pocket.
“No!” He grabbed her wrist, but she already had the rock entrapped in her hand.
“Is this what you’re always fiddling with?” She uncurled her fingers, and her eyes expanded.
***
Gabby blinked, unable to believe what she was holding. The surface was worn smooth, but there was no mistaking the heart-shaped rock.
Flashes of that day made her quiver. Anthony flinging away her gift. His sneer. But there was more to her memories this time. His mournful gaze fixed on the ground. His fist shoved into his pocket.
She licked her lips. “You kept it?”
He gently took the rock and cradled it in his palm. “Yes.”
A thousand thoughts swirled in her head, disputing what she’d always considered the truth. “But I saw you throw it away.”
“You saw me pretend to throw it away.”
She blinked back tears as the hurt she’d known that day returned in a flood. “But why?”
He sat up halfway and captured her face. His eyes drilled into her. “I never wanted to hurt you. I swear it. But Drew would have harassed me the whole ride back to school, and I didn’t want him teasing you for the kindest gesture anyone had ever shown me. I’m sorry, Gabby. More than I can ever say.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you’d kept it?”
“When I saw how stricken you were, I hated myself. I meant to tell you I’d kept it, but by the time I saw you next, it had been months. You seemed to have forgotten everything, and I would have felt daft bringing it up. I thought it had only been important to me. I didn’t see the truth until now.”
She hadn’t forgotten, but she had learned to cover her hurt feelings with happy chatter.
His thumb traced the curve of her jaw, sending warmth radiating down her back and spiraling in her lower belly. His touch drove away the doubts that had plagued her for too long. He’d kept her gift. All these years, it meant something to him. She meant something.
“Do you always carry it with you?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he rubbed the rock between his thumb and finger. “I’ve kept it in my pocket every day since you gave it to me. It was a little piece of you—of your heart. You were the closest I ever had to family that cared about me.”
His image blurred like a watercolor painting. How long had he felt unloved and alone? Probably most of his life. The thought made her want to weep.
“Anthony, I love you.”
He shrugged and slipped the rock into his pocket. “I know.”
Did he really? Had he felt so unloved in his life that he didn’t believe her?
“I don’t think you do.” She placed a tiny kiss on his lips. “I love you. There is nothing you can do that will drive me away, so stop trying.”
“I haven’t been trying to drive you away.”
“Haven’t you been? You ignored my letter, pretended you’d never received it. You hid the fact that you had kept my gift. You don’t have to be afraid I’m not going to love you back. I have loved you all my life and I’ll never stop.”
He blinked, perhaps shocked that she saw through his bravado. Why had it taken her so long to notice his vulnerabilities? Because she hadn’t been seeing him, not really. She had looked at him with a girl’s eyes and placed him on a pedestal next to God himself, then suffered when he hadn’t lived up to her expectations. Suddenly, her world felt right. Anthony wasn’t above her and out of her reach. He was here, flesh and blood, flawed just as she was, and she loved him even more.
Cupping his face, she leaned toward him. “From this day forward, I take you as my husband. You are mine and I am yours forever.”
A broad smile broke across his face. “You do realize you’ll have to wait until we are in Scotland before we can be married.”
“Not in my heart.”
When she pressed her lips to his, a loud crash of thunder rattled the windows. Or perhaps it was simply the effect of his kiss. Together, they were combustible. He could anger her beyond reason or incite her passion until she couldn’t think, but sometimes not thinking was the biggest gift someone could be given.
Their mouths moved together hungrily, driven by a need for more. She’d meant every word. She was his. Surrendering to the desire that had been pulsing inside her for years, she parted her lips and welcomed his tongue. Each languorous sweep was incredibly erotic as they shared every breath and thundering heartbeat.
She buried her fingers in his golden hair. The skies outside were dark and furious, but he was her sun. How could she have ever thought herself capable of turning away from him?
He held h
er tight against him and wriggled them around until she was beneath him. His lips touched the corner of her mouth, her chin, and her neck.
“I love you too,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.
Her heart nearly burst. Although he’d said the words in the past, it was different this time. He’d risked everything to have her.
His hand wrapped around her ribs, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast as his mouth slid down to her shoulder and along her collarbone. Scrumptious shivers raced down her back.
When he kissed the swell of her breast, she gasped softly. It was a most wicked place to be kissed, and she was certain it was wicked of her to like it.
Anthony drew back. His chest rose and fell in jerky motions. “Th-that’s enough of that, then.”
She smiled and urged his head lower. “It’s not nearly enough for me.”
He pulled back again and laughed, stirring a lock of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “Not for me either, Lady Bug. But a man must have some honor.”
She rolled her eyes. “That would make you the only man I know who has any.”
A dark scowl greeted her comment. “What is that to mean? Has another gentleman taken liberties?”
When he tried to sit up, she grabbed his shoulders to keep him close. “Not with me, ninnyhammer. But I’m not ignorant of the ways of men. Ladies talk.”
His frown disappeared and he returned to cuddling her.
She smiled, perhaps a bit smugly. He wasn’t as determined to release her as he’d indicated. “I know for a fact my brothers weren’t always on their best behavior with their future wives.”
Anthony kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s one thing to forgive yourself a misstep, but there are different sets of rules for one’s sister.”
“Good thing I’m not your sister,” she teased.
He laughed. “Yes, or this would be very awkward.”
She swatted him on the shoulder, chuckling despite herself. “And now you’ve spoiled the mood.”
One Rogue Too Many Page 20
