by Jade Lee
“I have hurt you,” he said, stating the obvious.
Her expression hardened even more. “Life has hurt me,” she finally said. “And I miss my father.”
She missed more than just her father. She missed her childhood and the innocence of that time. Just as he missed the carefree man he’d been before Michael tossed him on a boat and declared him dead.
“What does she say?” she asked, her tone almost bland.
He broke the seal and pulled out the sheet, but his vision swam as he tried to read it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He was a man, damn it. He had survived in the worst hell known to mankind. He had even killed. He could read one damn letter from the woman he once loved. He rubbed his face and opened his eyes.
“ ‘Dearest Kit,’ ” he read aloud. “ ‘I am stunned but so thrilled to hear that you are alive. Please, dear friend, will you come visit me tomorrow at tea time?’”
He stared at the missive, his mind numb with emotion. His knees went weak and he found he was sitting back upon Maddy’s bed.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? To see her again?”
He nodded. It was. It most certainly was. And yet . . . “I have been in my new rooms a day,” he said. “I have already received a dozen letters just like this. Old friends, acquaintances, people I once knew.”
She touched his cheek, the gesture tender even though she held the rest of her apart from him. “You thought to get something more personal from her?”
He nodded.
“She is married, Kit. She has two children and is increasing with her third. You have been gone from her thoughts for nearly seven years.”
“She hasn’t been gone from mine!” he exploded, coming off the bed and stepping away from Maddy’s too intimate touch. “Every day, I thought of her. Every breath was because she waited for me. Everything I did—and I did such terrible things, Maddy—was so I could come back to her.”
“And yet you didn’t. You bought your freedom when?”
“Four years ago,” he said, the words paining him as he spoke.
“You stayed away for four more years. Why?” Her eyes were dark, her body still, but he knew she was listening with her whole heart. And that she would not judge him.
He sighed. “I was more animal than man. I feared I would hurt her.”
“Or be reviled by her?”
“Yes.”
He heard her hand fall to her side. “I cannot imagine how hard this must be for you.”
“I don’t love her, angel. I swear to God in heaven that it is not how I feel toward her.”
“Then what is it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. She was everything to me for so long. Everything I had lost, everything I thought I wanted. But then I changed. I became an animal to survive.”
She touched him then. Despite the way he had hurt her, she pressed her fingers to his back and let her warmth seep into him. “You are not an animal now.”
He turned around, catching her when she would have slipped away from him. He wrapped her in his arms. Her body was stiff and unyielding, but she softened quickly enough. Within the space of two breaths, her body melted into his. He closed his eyes as his head dropped to her hair. She was real. She was not some mirage of a memory of another time. And he drew his strength from her. His angel.
“I cannot see her,” he suddenly decided. “Not when she writes me like that.”
For a long moment, she had no response. He, on the other hand, felt her breathing, the erotic press of her lips against his neck, and even the rapid beat of her heart. But then he felt her strengthen, as her body slowly drew apart from his.
“You will go see her, Kit.”
He didn’t want to release her, but he would not cage her against his side. He owed her that much at least. “Angel—” he began, but she stepped away, folding her arms across her chest. And damn he was a bastard for noticing that her nipples were tight, her breasts full and pump.
“You must go,” she said.
“No. No, I won’t.” Did he sound like a stubborn child? “I shall go see my brother instead. I should like to see the house where I grew up again. Even if he has painted it a ghastly color. Green. Pah!”
Her eyes lightened at that, but her mouth remained implacable. “You should go see your brother. It is well past time. But you must go see Lady Blackstone first. Tomorrow at tea, Kit. You must.”
“Why?” Why should he go when she was but a fading memory? Why should he look at the past when the present was so much more enticing?
“Because you cannot move on until you put the memory of her to rest.” There was more she wanted to say. He read it in the tightness of her body and the way she pinched her lips shut.
He looked away, unable to see her looking so prim. Especially since he knew the fire that burned just beneath her skin. “Agh,” he said, self-loathing churning in his gut. “I am useless this way! I cannot think. I cannot even fight for the woman I want.”
He heard her breath pull in with a hiss. “She is married, Kit. There is no fighting for a woman who is pledged to someone else.”
“I know!” he snapped. He hadn’t meant Scher. He had meant her, Maddy, his angel. He wanted her. Just looking at her made him hard with want. But with all the storm of emotions in his head, he could not find the words to express that. “You don’t understand me!”
“I understand that you are longing for something that is gone. I too spent months crying for my father, wishing for my friends back home, desperately pleading with God to make it different. I miss that life, Kit. With every breath I take, I miss it. But it is gone.”
“I cannot do it,” he said, the revelation cutting so deep, he could barely breathe.
“You can,” she returned. “You are stronger than you think.”
“Not without you,” he said. “Not alone, I’m not. I can’t . . .” He raised his arms in despair. “I just can’t.”
He saw her close her eyes, fighting some internal struggle. Then when she opened them, he saw that she had surrendered. To what, he didn’t know. To him, perhaps. To the impossible position he had just placed her.
“Then you won’t go alone,” she said. “I will tell Rose that I must go convince Lady Blackstone to join us for tea. She will get her father to loan me the carriage. We will go together tomorrow.”
He looked at her, seeing her willingness to help him, and he was humbled. “I owe you so much,” he said. “And have abused you most abominably.”
She looked at her clasped hands. “You may thank me by making your peace with Lady Blackstone tomorrow, by attending Rose’s tea Tuesday next, and then by repairing whatever fences you need to with your brothers.”
He would. He would do what she asked because he could not bear to hurt her more. “Of course, angel.” He took a step toward her, but she held up her hand.
“I think you should go now. Rose will be coming home soon, and she always wants to talk about the evening.”
He glanced at the clock. Rose would not likely be home for another hour at the earliest, but he didn’t argue. He knew it was a convenient excuse to get him out of her bedroom. He grimaced. She should not need to lie to get him to leave. He should not have climbed in here in the first place.
“Thank you, angel,” he said, knowing the words were so inadequate.
“My name is Maddy,” she said. “Now go.”
He nodded and went for the window. He had no choice with her body so rigid, as if she held herself together by willpower alone. He knew that feeling well, and so he did the best thing for her. He left. As quickly as possible, though his heart wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed and caress away the pain he had caused. But that would only make matters worse.
He paused only once. He climbed down the wall easily enough, landing with a soft thud. And when he had gathered up his things, he stopped to look up at her window. She was there, silhouetted against the candlelight from
her bedroom. Her skin was touched by moonlight, and her hair was askew, making a soft halo about her face. She had never looked more like an angel. But she did not want that name, so he ceded to her wishes.
“Thank you, Maddy,” he said loud enough for her to hear. Then he added two more words under his breath. “My angel.” And he ducked away.
Maddy watched him disappear into the night. He moved silently, and when he donned his dark coat, he was also invisible. But she saw him. In her mind’s eye, she saw every part of his body, that which she had seen and that which she had only dreamt. She felt like she knew him intimately, just as he probably felt he knew her.
Except it was all a lie. With a sigh filled with remorse, she stepped away from the window and locked the pane tight. He would not creep in on her unawares again.
Oh, but it had been wonderful. Such pleasure! She hadn’t known it could be like that. And they hadn’t even done the most intimate act. She wondered if it would be even better then. Or if a man invading her body would be painful and uncomfortable. And most important, would she ever really know?
She was a respectable woman, gently reared and niece to an earl. Her lineage was excellent, if not her dowry. She had every reason to hope for a match this Season, and weeks yet to catch one. She should be on her knees thanking God that she had not given away her virginity this night. That Kit hadn’t pressed for her to strip out her clothing and give him all. She doubted she would have refused. She was that mindless when she was with him.
But she was still a virgin. And she could still make an acceptable match. Which meant a husband, a home, and children. Everything she wanted. But only if she refused Kit the next time he knocked on her window. Only if she cut him out of her heart right here and right now.
He was not proposing marriage. He was obviously still in love with Lady Blackstone. Maddy was merely his relief of the moment, and she could not be such a stupid, reckless woman around him. Even now, she worried that she was tainted somehow. That eligible bachelors would look at her and know what she had done.
No more! From this moment on, she would act with the utmost propriety. Her bedroom window would be latched shut. No intimate conversations in private—whether it be the kitchen, the back of a ballroom, or at her bedroom window. And as for tomorrow . . .
Her mind stuttered to a halt. Propriety demanded that she absolutely not go with Kit to visit Lord and Lady Blackstone. Unmarried girls simply did not travel with gentlemen who were not related to them. But she had promised, and more than that, she believed that he could not face Lady Blackstone alone. If she did not pick him up in the carriage tomorrow, then he would not go on his own. Which meant he would be trapped in pretend fantasies of the life that might have been.
She couldn’t condemn him to that. But she would have to take steps to ensure that she didn’t weaken. She had no sense around him, but there was a solution. After all, two unmarried ladies could travel with propriety to a lady’s house. Two unmarried ladies could also travel in a coach with an unmarried man, though that was less proper. And best of all, the second unmarried lady in question had already decided that she would marry Mr. Frazier. Rose would naturally leap at the chance to spend time with her imagined fiancé.
It might not be fair to Mr. Frazier to expose his vulnerabilities to Rose, especially since Rose was a terrible gossip. But that was the price he would have to pay. If he wanted Maddy there beside him when he saw his Scheherazade, then Rose would have to be there as well. That’s how proper women behaved. And from this moment on, that’s exactly what Maddy intended to be: excruciatingly, horribly, and without a doubt proper.
Chapter 13
For the rest of her life, Maddy would never forget the look on Kit’s face when he first opened the carriage door. She and Rose had arrived at his rather shabby address. Rose had been busy exclaiming over her pirate love’s reduced circumstances when the coachman opened the door and Kit popped his head inside.
His eyes lit on Rose first. The girl had positioned herself closest to the door in the exact place where one first looked when entering a carriage. She said she always caught a person’s most honest expression in that moment, be it joy, envy, or anger. Maddy did not put nearly as much credence in the moment as her cousin did, but she nevertheless watched Mr. Frazier’s expression closely.
He looked joyful. That was her first thought as he pulled open the carriage door. His eyes were lit from the sunlight and his lips were curved in a smile of welcome. But then his gaze took in Rose first, Maddy second, and his eyebrows raised in surprise while the rest of his expression carefully blanked to polite interest.
“Hello, Mr. Frazier,” Rose said in her high, sweet voice. “I’m so touched that you invited me to accompany you on this most difficult mission. But never fear, I shall make sure to keep everything light and delightful.”
Maddy hadn’t exactly said that Kit had requested Rose’s presence. She had, in fact, suggested that Kit would likely be surprised by her presence. But somehow her cousin had twisted that around to her own liking and was now grinning happily as Kit maneuvered himself inside. He had to sit next to Rose, of course, as she had layered the blankets and reticules in the space beside Maddy.
Meanwhile, Kit nodded politely to Rose. “Then I shall rely on you,” he said, but his gaze traveled to Maddy’s with a questioning lift to his eyebrow.
“As you know,” she said, answering his unspoken question, “a lady cannot travel unescorted. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“But a maid is so boring,” inserted Rose. “And I was so in need of a diversion. This shall be just the thing!”
“Of course,” he said, his gaze enigmatic. “I am pleased that you could come.”
Was there a hint of sarcasm in his voice? She wasn’t sure, and Rose certainly didn’t think so as she dimpled prettily. In any event, it didn’t matter. Maddy was here with him, as she’d promised, and she’d done it in a way that was eminently respectable.
And yet, she couldn’t shake the memory of his first look as he opened the carriage door. Joy. Excitement. Happiness. It had all been in his face as he looked for her. And it was all gone now that Rose was here.
“You look quite handsome in that outfit,” Maddy abruptly said. “The darker colors suit you.” He was in a smoky gray in a severe style. His cravat was simple, and the fine white lawn of his shirt contrasted sharply with the golden tan of his skin. In truth, he looked like a savage suited up as a man, and yet the appearance was devastatingly handsome. Especially when he smiled. Were he to wear that at a ball, every young miss would swoon in delight.
“It is quite lovely,” said Rose. “Don’t worry. It will only take some practice—or a good valet—and you shall master the cravat in no time.”
He arched a brow at Rose in surprise. “Do you not like the simplicity of the Maharata knot? I remember spending hours on the exact fall of a cravat before, but now . . .” He shook his head. “I cannot seem to find the need.”
“Oh, but you must!” countered Rose. “It is the only way a man can wear lace, you know, or something like lace. Like a waterfall of fabric, right under the chin. It’s most stylish. Very popular.”
Mr. Frazier’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He had probably spent a great deal of the last seven years squinting against a very bright sun. “I can certainly tell that you like lace and flounces, Lady Rose,” he said. “Have you been trying to create a waterfall in your gowns?”
Rose clapped her gloved hands in delight. “You noticed! I knew you would. You are a man who has suffered a great deal, and they are always the most perceptive. Almost makes me wish I could be captured by pirates!”
Maddy winced, her eyes darting to Kit. Rose sounded as if she were praising horrible years as a slave so that he could notice her flounces. To trivialize what he had experienced was beyond tactless, and yet, he simply smiled warmly.
“Nonsense, Lady Rose, I find you eminently perceptive just as you are. For example, I find it especially percepti
ve of you to force your cousin to wear your cast-off gowns. She cannot look half as good as you do in those dresses as it is clearly not her style. Thus, you appear generous in giving up your gowns and yet ensure that she is in her worst looks. Very clever, Lady Rose. Very clever.”
Rose pursed her lips in clear dismay. “But . . . but that is so unkind, sir. I think Maddy is lovely! And she is so tall that she gets to add an extra flounce!”
For her part, Maddy wanted to run outside and hide. She had no idea what Kit meant by tweaking Rose. How dare he accuse the girl of being unkind! The truth was that Rose just assumed everyone looked lovely in a dozen layers of lace.
“Really, Mr. Frazier,” Maddy began. “This is most improper.”
Kit raised his eyebrows. “On the contrary, nothing could be more proper than to discuss fashion ad nauseam. Do you know, I find lace and flounces most lovely on you Lady Rose. But as you can see, Maddy is older than you. To put her in such a young, sweet style only emphasizes how young she is not.”
Rose frowned. “Oh. Well, that is true, I suppose. But I had hoped to disguise that fact. It is hard for an ape leader to find a husband.”
Maddy stiffened. “I am not an ape leader! Such a woman is twenty-nine or thirty. I am years away from that.” She was, in fact, less than six months away from twenty-nine. But some facts she kept to herself.
“An excellent age. I myself am in my thirties,” Kit said, his gaze falling steady on hers. She found herself staring back, losing herself in the very steady, very silent presence of his gaze. Which was extremely odd as the man was not being silent and was certainly not steady.
Then he turned back to Rose. “But you know how trying to hide something merely makes everyone notice it all the more.”
“Well, that’s certainly true. Like poor Baron Halperin and his bald head. The more he combs his hair over the top, the more everyone notices it.”
