Hot Historicals Bundle with An Invitation to Sin, The Naked Baron, When His Kiss Is Wicked, & Mastering the Marquess

by Jo Beverley

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to sink into the ground. Could she possibly have made it any more evident that she wanted him gone?

  He muttered a quiet oath. It was not the kind of thing he would normally say in polite company.

  She lifted her eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

  He shot her an irritated glance. “Don’t start calling me Captain Archer, Clarissa.”

  “And don’t make a fuss over such a little thing,” she retorted, feeling defensive. “Please answer my question. When do you return to Portugal?”

  “In a few weeks, at most. My shoulder is healed, so I don’t have any reason to remain in London, do I?”

  He sounded enough like a disgruntled schoolboy that she was tempted to laugh. She suddenly felt on familiar ground, with everything back in its proper place.

  “Do you miss the Peninsula?” she asked, genuinely curious. “Even though it’s dangerous, it must be very exciting, especially since you’re an ADC to a general.”

  He shrugged, a graceful movement of his powerful shoulders. “Sometimes. Especially when we’re out on campaign. But mostly it’s hard, slogging work. Through rain and mud in the winter, and heat and dust in the summer. Often without decent food, or precious little of it, anyway. It’s not the grand adventure people think it is.”

  Startled, she sucked in a breath. Had that been Jeremy’s life? His letters had always assured her that he was comfortable and well. But his health had never been strong, and more than once she had suspected he lied for her sake. But, selfishly, she had always tried to avoid the pain of knowing what his daily life had been like.

  “I hate to think of our men suffering like that,” she said.

  “It’s not all bad. There’s hunting when we have time, and even the occasional party or ball, especially when we’re in Lisbon. The officers’ wives make the best of everything, no matter how dreary the conditions.”

  She shuddered. “The women who follow the drum … they’re so brave. I couldn’t imagine doing that. All the hardship, the deprivation …” She let her voice trail off.

  He ducked his head to inspect her face. “Not even to be with the man you loved?”

  She flushed, reluctant to admit the truth. Besides, Jeremy would never have allowed her to join him, even though she knew several women of good standing who had gone to the Peninsula with their husbands.

  Of course, it had never even occurred to her to ask.

  “I don’t think I could do it,” she admitted. “I’d be too afraid.”

  He pressed her hand, giving her a warm smile. “You only think that because you can’t imagine it. I’ve always known you had more pluck than you gave yourself credit for. You survived all those years with your father, didn’t you? Don’t you remember how you stood up to him when you decided to marry Jeremy? The old bastard blew his top, but you refused to back down.”

  “Christian! Your language,” she spluttered, even though his praise brought a welcome warmth to her cheeks. She’d always thought of herself as ridiculously timid, but apparently Christian didn’t see her that way.

  “In fact,” he continued in a musing tone, “if you were in the Peninsula, I’m sure you’d be the toast of the regiment. You have your own sort of courage, and you’re the kindest woman I know. There isn’t a lady over there who can hold a candle to you, Clarissa, once you put your mind to it.”

  A sudden, intense wave of shame washed through her. No matter what he thought, she wasn’t brave. She was the cowardly one who had begged her husband to abandon his duty to country and king because she was afraid to let him go. A wife who blamed her husband for his own death—for doing what he thought was right.

  She turned her head, blinking away the sting of tears.

  “Clarissa, what’s wrong?” he asked in a puzzled voice.

  “I’m none of those things, and it’s wrong of you to tease me,” she choked out.

  He gripped her by the shoulders and spun her to face him.

  “I’m not teasing you,” he exclaimed. “Why the hell would you think that?”

  Suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Christian, why are you doing this? It doesn’t make any sense!”

  His gaze burned through her. “I should think it would be obvious by now.”

  “Christian—” His fingers tightened on her shoulders, pulling her fractionally closer. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird.

  “No, Clarissa,” he said gently. “I won’t let you hide behind the wall you’ve built around yourself. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  A scorch of anger and humiliation drove her to throw the ugly answer back in his face. “I think you’re bored, and I’m convenient.”

  His expression went dark. “Convenient for what?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she retorted, hating herself even more than she hated him for making her say it. “I’m a widow and will probably never remarry. Perfectly convenient for a soldier on leave.”

  He gave her a prolonged stare, his features so grim that she considered pulling herself from his grip and making a dash for the gates. But now that he had forced her to this point, some impulse held her in place, refusing to let her back down.

  “Ladybird,” he finally growled. “What kind of loose screw do you take me for? How in God’s name could you place so little value on yourself?”

  His answer mystified her. “Then why, Christian? Do you just feel sorry for me because you’re my friend, and I’m a lonely old widow?”

  He abruptly released her, but then grabbed her by the hand and drew her behind the shelter of a towering shrub.

  “Christian!” Her voice came out on a startled squeak. “What are you doing?”

  He backed her against a gigantic oak, caging her by placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. “Showing you that you’re the furthest thing possible from a lonely old widow.”

  He swooped down and took her mouth in a ravening kiss. She whimpered under the onslaught. Her fists came up to his shoulders but, to her amazement, she didn’t push him away. Instead, as his mouth devoured hers, tasting her with a hot passion, she felt her fingers open and then dig into the wool of his coat with a desperate grip. When his tongue slid along her lips, teasing, silently asking for her to open, she moaned and melted into him, hanging on with all her rapidly fading strength.

  He took her hands and moved them up and around his neck. Their bodies melded together. Need simmered through her veins, eager—even greedy—and his kiss ignited a sweet, painful emotion that had lain dormant. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, pulling his head down to nuzzle his mouth.

  His groan of approval vibrated against her quivering lips. Again, his tongue danced across them, seeking entrance. Swept up in the rising tide of desire, she opened for him and he surged inside. A sweet fire, dark and scorching, burned through her limbs and settled deep in her core. Everything inside went soft as their tongues tangled, playing a delicious and forbidden game. He pressed against her, his solid body gently pushing her against the hard trunk at her back.

  She flinched as the rough bark dug into her spine. With a murmur, he eased back, teasing her mouth with a slow, impossibly gentle kiss, so tender and sweet that tears gathered under her closed eyelids. That sweetness undid her. The memory of Jeremy, and the last kiss they had shared, forced its way back into her mind.

  Her eyes sprang open. Horror and shame flooded her veins. Bad enough she was letting Christian kiss her like this, but out here in the park? In public?

  She jerked back, knocking her head against the trunk of the tree.

  Startled, Christian broke free. “Jesus, woman,” he gasped. “What are you doing? Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Let me go,” she panted. She pushed against him, frantic.

  He stepped back immediately. His cheekbones were glazed with a dark flush and his eyes still smoldered, but he looked wary. And worried.

  “Sweetheart,” he began.

/>   She cut him off with a sharp chop of her hand. “No, Christian. Don’t say anything more. This never should have happened.”

  With trembling hands, she set her bonnet on straight and dodged around him, heading back for the path. He caught up to her, fell in step beside her. The intensely humiliated part of her took comfort in the fact that he was breathing as hard as she was.

  “Clarissa, I’m not playing with you,” he said in a low voice. “I’m dead serious about this. I want to be with you. And not because you’re convenient. I’ve felt this way for a long time.”

  Anxiety and a strange, sorrowful yearning squeezed the air from her lungs.

  “No,” she choked out. “We can’t do this. It’s absurd.”

  He grasped her elbow, forcing her to slow her headlong rush out of the park. She sensed the restrained strength in his grip, the desire to drag her to a halt.

  “Why not?” he asked in a frustrated voice.

  “Do I really have to explain it?”

  “Yes.”

  She stifled a curse. “You’re young, Christian.” She could feel his gaze bearing down on her, but she refused to meet it. “You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m—”

  “Don’t you dare say you’re old. I swear I’ll do something drastic if you do.”

  His voice held a note of warning, but something else, too. He sounded hurt.

  She stopped and looked up at him. His eyes blazed with a complex mix of emotions: desire, anger, and pain. The pain of rejection, of not being good enough. She had seen that pain before. Years ago, when he had compared himself to his athletic and dashing older brothers and found himself wanting.

  She sighed, both the fight and the fear draining out of her.

  “Christian, you honor me. But I’m not ready for what you’re asking of me. I still love Jeremy, and I’m not ready to let him go.”

  He towered over her, like a baffled giant. “Will you ever be ready?”

  She briefly closed her eyes, letting her guilt and the love she felt for Jeremy bleed through her. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “But I don’t think it could ever be with you. Whatever you might say, you are too young for me.”

  His face hardened into an austere mask. In that moment, he looked anything but young.

  “You’re wrong, Clarissa. Why do this to yourself?”

  “Because I want peace and quiet. Is that so much to ask for?”

  He began to argue, but she grasped his arm and gave it a little shake. “Christian, no. I’m begging you. I can’t give you what you want. Please, let’s just be friends, as we have always been.”

  She stared up at him, making no effort to hide the desperation behind her plea. His eyes went bleak, but he nodded.

  “As you wish.”

  Without another word, he took her arm and led her from the park.

  Chapter 5

  Pressing her hand against her bodice, Clarissa fought to quell the mad fluttering of her heart. Christian and Lillian had come to call and now waited for her in the snug drawing room of the Middleton town house. Four days had passed since that devastating kiss in the park, and Clarissa had carefully avoided any contact with the Archer clan during that time. But as much as she’d been tempted to send the footman downstairs with a message to Lillian and Christian that she was unwell, neither of her friends deserved such shabby treatment. She had to face the consequences of her foolish behavior sooner or later, and delaying a meeting with Christian wouldn’t make that any easier.

  Gritting her teeth, she opened the door. Her guests rose to their feet. Christian’s sapphire gaze locked on hers, boring into her with a smoldering intensity that halted her faltering steps. Her wafer-thin composure evaporated. If Lillian hadn’t been in the room she would have turned tail and fled.

  Her friend hurried across the room to greet her. Lillian enveloped her in a sweetly scented hug, then drew her over to sit on the sofa.

  Christian bowed, then retreated to the fireplace. He looked handsome and powerful, every inch the proud soldier. His leather boots and buckskin breeches clung to his muscled legs, and his beautifully tailored uniform showcased his brawny shoulders. With an effort, Clarissa turned her attention on Lillian.

  “I’ve been so worried about you,” Lillian said with an anxious smile. “When you didn’t come to the Framing-hams’ ball last night I thought you must be ill.”

  Clarissa flushed. Bad enough that she had to lie to Lillian now. Even worse that the reason for her lie stood only a few feet away.

  “I’m sorry. I should have sent you a note. My father-in-law has been unwell, and I was reluctant to leave him.”

  Lillian hesitated, casting a worried glance at Christian. A silent communication passed between them, one that sent a prickle of warning across the nape of Clarissa’s neck.

  “I hope the colonel feels more the thing very soon,” Lillian replied. “But Christian and I thought we should call on you today. To ask if you’d heard, ah, any unusual gossip lately.”

  Clarissa frowned. “What do you mean? I haven’t heard anything.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, comprehension surged through her in a sickening rush. Had someone seen her in the park with Christian? Backed up against a tree while he devoured her mouth? Her gaze flew up to meet his. He gave a slight but decisive shake of the head.

  A sigh of relief escaped her lips, and Christian’s mouth thinned into a grim line. She winced, hating that she possessed the power to wound him.

  Lillian briefly closed her eyes, as if in gratitude. “Thank goodness,” she murmured.

  Clarissa directed a questioning glance at Christian as her relief gave way to puzzlement. To her dismay, he gave a slight grimace, then dropped his gaze to the fire burning in the grate. Foreboding seeped through her veins.

  “Lillian, whatever is the matter?”

  Her friend took her hand. “Christian and I need to tell you something, and it’s going to distress you. But please remember that the entire Archer family will do everything we can to help. And the rumors will die down soon enough.”

  Clarissa’s heart gave a frightened thump. “What are you talking about?”

  Lillian rolled her eyes at her brother, silently pleading for help. Still looking grim, Christian left his station by the fireplace, grabbed an armchair, and pulled it over to sit in front of Clarissa. He reached over and swallowed her hand in a warm, massive grip.

  “Clarissa,” he said gently, “rumors about Jeremy are circulating through the ton. They are without foundation, but of course that won’t stop them from spreading. You and Colonel Middleton will surely hear of them soon enough.”

  Her mind went blank. What could anyone say about Jeremy that she didn’t already know?

  “What … what rumors?”

  A muscle pulsed in his lean jaw. Her heart beat even harder in response.

  “It’s being whispered that Jeremy failed to act appropriately during the Battle of Badajoz,” he replied in a carefully neutral voice.

  She blinked, caught off guard. Jeremy had been one of the officers of the Forlorn Hope, the company assigned to lead the infantry attack on the besieged fortress. The company that obviously sustained the heaviest losses. Colonel Middleton had been told later that Jeremy had volunteered, thereby consigning himself to an almost certain death. Her husband’s decision had eaten away at Clarissa for months, as she had struggled to understand why he could have made that choice.

  “Did he make some kind of mistake?” she asked.

  Christian squeezed her hand, and she saw pity in his eyes. That more than anything caused a bubble of fear to rise in her throat.

  “Clarissa, it’s being said that Jeremy froze at a decisive moment, and did not fulfill the duties of his command,” he answered.

  She gaped at him, her mind rejecting his horrifying words.

  “Are they calling him a coward?” she finally choked out.

  Christian gave a terse nod, his gaze sparking with anger.

 
; Lillian put an arm around her shoulders. “No one who knew Jeremy will believe so foolish a story. We just have to ignore the rumors and they will eventually fade.”

  Clarissa snatched her hand away from Christian’s grasp and twisted sideways to glare at Lillian. Fury rose within her in a blinding rush.

  “How can you say that? You know very well that most people will believe that kind of rumor—they always do. Whoever started it is lying, and I’m going to find out exactly whom it is.”

  She was desperate to move, to get away from them. But Christian, seated in front of her, was blocking her way. Still, Clarissa tried to jump up, but he took her by the arms and held her in a gently unyielding grip.

  “No, sweetheart. Wait,” he soothed. “Let us finish telling you what happened.”

  Clarissa felt Lillian’s start at his term of endearment, but right now she didn’t care. Christian could call her whatever he wanted if only he would let her go.

  “Let me up,” she snapped. “I must go straight to the Horse Guards. Surely I can talk to someone there. One of Jeremy’s commanding officers. I won’t allow anyone to tell lies about my husband.”

  She struggled, but Christian held her as easily as he might hold a newborn kitten.

  “I’ve already been to the Guards,” he replied. “Father and I went this morning to speak to the commander of Jeremy’s brigade. Stop struggling and I’ll tell you exactly what he said.”

  She froze at the note of command in his voice. Some part of her wanted to strike out at him, but the rational part of her mind told her to listen. She gave him a grudging nod, and he eased his grip.

  “My father and I heard the rumors yesterday, as did Lillian,” he said. “By last night, we realized they were spreading, and we needed to ascertain the source.”

  “And deny the rumors for the vile untruths they are,” Clarissa interjected hotly.

  “Of course. Father and I felt it best to track down the source before speaking to you and Colonel Middleton. We wanted to squelch the rumors, if at all possible, and save you unnecessary pain.”

  Her stomach clenched at the thought of breaking such news to her father-in-law, especially given his weak heart.