“Your mind is made up then,” he said with a quiet snarl.
“It is.” Fawn’s face flushed deep red and refused to meet his eye.
He wavered and across his face, she could see a shadow of anger and frustration. Her heart pounded a tense tattoo at the base of her throat as she wondered what he would do next.
Crispin stepped back from her, lifting his hands, palms out. “I withdraw from the field. I will not petition for your love again. The master bedroom is yours for as long as you desire it. The quilt will be sufficient to keep you warm tonight. The fire is going well. I’ll make arrangements for fresh bedding in the morning.”
“Where are you going?” she asked fearfully.
He was striding to the door.
“To the north wing—to sleep as far away from you as I can possibly get!”
§
A GIRL WAS running along the rutted muddy track toward Hawkcliffe Hall. Fawn stood at the kitchen window watching the extraordinary sight of another human being in this forlorn place.
The girl’s reddish curls bobbed up and down like a torch through the grey murky rain and her voluminous green cloak billowed behind her like a sail. Fawn discerned she was carrying a large bundle in her arms under the cloak that seemed to throw off her balance. She slipped twice on the courtyard stones and then sprinted toward the scullery door to get out of the rain.
She burst into the room, sodden and out of breath, staggering under the weight of the supplies she was carrying. The hem of her muddy skirt caught on the toe of her boot and the girl fell through the doorway at Fawn’s feet.
“Oh! Good morning, miss!” The redhead struggled to rise. “I didn’t expect to see you up and around so soon. The captain said you would likely be asleep when I arrived. He said I was not to disturb you. I came as quick as I could, I’ve run all the way from Stokesbay.”
Fawn reached down to help the girl up. “I came down to fetch my valise. Who are you and where is Captain Wolfe?”
Chapter Eleven
“WHY, MY NAME is Molly, miss. Molly McGuire.”
She bobbed a curtsy and then bustled into the kitchen with her armload of supplies. “The master has gone to London, miss. He only just managed to catch the first train, which was very lucky as he was in a terrible hurry to be away. I am to do the shopping, prepare the meals and open the rooms at the Hall. Captain Wolfe has hired me to attend to you, miss. Oh and I have a package for you.”
The girl handed over a soft bundle wrapped in brown paper. Fawn opened it on the table and was astonished to find a new silk-trimmed forest green bonnet—accompanied by a note:
Your old one has likely been washed out to sea. I hope this will make up the difference.
Crispin.
“Oh, that is lovely, miss. It will go well with your eyes.” She dug into her bag and withdrew another parcel wrapped in a similar fashion and tied with string. “This is also for you.”
The package contained a pair of new stockings, as lovely and fine as Fawn had ever seen.
Molly winked. “You are not to walk about on these cold floors in your bare feet, the master says, or you’ll catch your death.” The girl’s face went as red as her hair. “Oh dear. Beg your pardon, miss. I am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you—I am overwhelmed at the moment. Please forgive my manners, Molly. I ought to have introduced myself. My name is Fawn Heathcote.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” the girl said cheerfully. “The master told me who you were and we couldn’t be happier to have a lady at Hawkcliffe Hall again. My mother used to be in service here when Lady Weybourne was alive.”
Molly eyed Fawn’s wool traveling skirt and jacket, still drying in the kitchen. “You’ll want that mourning black to wear, I dare say. I’ll have that muck cleaned out in a jiffy.”
The girl bustled about the kitchen, unloading the provisions on the table and darting to the stove to rekindle the fire. She seemed to know her way around, rolling up her sleeves to prepare breakfast.
“Forgive me,” Fawn said, her anxiety rising, “but Captain Wolfe said nothing to me about going to London. I thought he still was in his quarters in the north wing when I came down. Did he give a reason for his sudden departure?”
“Not to me he didn’t, miss, but he spoke with my father about hiring me and he might’ve told him his reasons. He regretted the short notice, but said I must see to you straight away as you were here alone. It was my young man, Constable Martin, who told me about your recent loss, miss. He said Captain Wolfe arrived with his niece to Hawkcliffe Hall for a family holiday and had to deliver the terrible news of her aunt’s death. Perhaps your guardian has gone ahead to London to make the funeral arrangements?”
“Yes, that is the likely answer,” Fawn replied, not knowing what to think.
She could not make sense of her feelings where Crispin was concerned. He both frightened her and attracted her to near insensibility. His sudden absence should come as a relief. Instead, she felt a dreadful hollow emptiness.
Fawn lifted the stockings and bonnet, gazing at them thoughtfully, wondering about the man who had purchased them. What did he hope to gain with this kindness? He didn’t love her and yet everything he did was an act of love—even to the point of respecting her wishes and leaving her alone last night.
“Do you need my assistance with your dress this morning, miss?”
Fawn started back to the present. “Thank you, Molly, no. I can manage.”
“Very good, miss. Breakfast will be served in a half-hour.”
In a daze, Fawn gathered her corset and undergarments together, leaving the black wool for Molly. Picking up her long-forgotten valise, she climbed the stairs to the master bedroom to dress.
§
CRISPIN WOLFE did not return to Hawkcliffe Hall that night or the next or the next. On the fourth day, Fawn took a walk to the beach in a fever of restlessness. Molly was in the kitchen preparing luncheon and oblivious to her young mistress’s emotional state. Wolfe was keeping his promise to provide her a home, but she was beginning to fear Jocelyn’s half-brother was also keeping another one of his promises. Wolfe would no longer demand her love.
Fawn had slept alone in the vast old house for the past three nights. She was not frightened of Hawkcliffe Hall—on the contrary—it was a welcoming house filled with hidden delights. Between her and Molly, they had succeeded in re-opening the library, the study and the grand dining hall. Linens had been discovered, brought out and aired. Every morning, Molly would arrive at the Hall with a fresh armload of packages streaming in from London.
Wolfe had not forgotten her—but he had not returned, nor sent word of his intention to do so.
Fawn removed her calfskin boots. Several boxes of new frocks, hats and shoes had arrived at Hawkcliffe Hall that morning by wagon. Molly had enthusiastically helped with the unpacking.
“I envy you, miss. Your uncle must love you dearly to go to such expense and trouble! I’ve never seen such beautiful things!”
It was true the captain spoiled her terribly, Fawn had conceded to the girl. Yes, she was exceedingly pleased with his selections.
She was wearing one of the gowns now. A pale rose silk. She’d left her hat at the Hall and wandered listlessly along the sandy beach. The waves crashed violently against the shore, mirroring her thoughts. When he pulled her from the edge of the cliff last week, Crispin Wolfe told her she could live for him—a thing Fawn had thought impossible at the time. A few days of separation and now she did not know how to live without him! The uneasiness she felt when Wolfe was away was almost as intense as the uneasiness she felt when he was near.
Crispin’s voice sounded behind her—a distinct masculine shout. Fawn froze for an instant and then whirled about, afraid that she was hearing things.
He stood tall, as strong and handsome as ever, if not more so. It felt as though they’d been separated for years instead of days. His cloak billowed behind him as he stood framed against the azure sky. His broad shou
lders were dressed in a green velvet frock coat that fitted him perfectly. A white silk scarf was tied at his neck under his square chin. His black leather riding boots were polished to a high gloss and came to the knee.
From his thick nightshade hair to the tip of his toe, Wolfe was male perfection; a dark regent with the power to call forth shameful sensations in her at the mere sight of him.
Crispin strode toward her, the tension in his body pulling him over the sandy beach faster and faster. Fawn was equally drawn to him like steel to a magnet. The man was a murderer and a seducer. Yet, she trembled when he met her eyes, wanting to resist him and wanting him to finish what he had ignited in her.
“Did you miss me?” He took three steps closing the distance between them and caught her in his arms, crushing her against him.
“I had Molly to keep me company.”
Wolfe cupped her face in his hands. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes, I have missed you. Crispin, I have missed you so much....”
He pressed his mouth to her lips, his firm relentless thirsting lips that moved against hers possessively. Her mind burned, her skin tingled painfully, but worst of all was the bursting anguish she felt in her heart as soon as he touched her.
She broke away with a gasp. “Why did you leave me so suddenly?”
“Later, Fawn. I will tell you everything later. We can’t talk here in the open. Someone might see us.” Crispin took her hand and drew her down the beach toward the mouth of a cave.
Inside, it was cool and dark and utterly private. His strong hand gripped hers and her blood raced at his touch. Fawn was shaking but not from fear. Crispin gazed down at her in the moody half-shadows and then pressed her against the rock wall with one firm push. He pinned her there, his hand on her waist.
“I didn’t know how I would feel when I saw you again. I prayed I would feel nothing.”
“And do you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
His eyes darkened in response. “I should not have brought you here. It is testing the limits of my self-control being alone with you.” He unfastened the top row of buttons on her bodice, revealing her smooth neck and the flesh above her bosom.
Fawn’s fingernails raked against the cold rock, her heart thudding wildly. The waves crashed against the shore in a sensual lullaby.
“I want to strip off every article of clothing between us,” he said hoarsely. “You are far more perfect than any dress from London could show. Your hair ... I like your hair down.”
He tugged on a pin and the mass cascaded down her back.
“Will you always be this creature, Fawn?” Crispin whispered. “Sweet-natured and seductively shy ... innocent of the pleasure I could give you. The blush in your cheek stains the rise of your breasts and—God help me—I am on the brink of wildness.”
He cupped her jaw line in his broad hand and tilted her face up to his. Crispin kissed her forcefully, as though wrestling a demon. His mouth pressed painfully against hers, his tongue invaded her mouth, filling it. The seconds passed in breathless alarm before Fawn found the strength to push him away.
“Have you returned only to seduce me so I may rise in the morning to find you gone again?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “You promised you would not ... abandon me. You are a deceiver on top of everything else I hate about you. These past few days of neglect have taught me well.”
“Have they?” His eyes flashed.
“Yes.” Her voice was subdued and barely audible.
Crispin made a fist and drove it into the rock. “I left you alone at your request! Every torment I have endured has stemmed from your refusal. I would take you now if I had any sense. Lay you down on the floor of this cave, spread your legs and be done with this madness. You feel the same way. Do not deny it.”
Crispin’s manhood pressed against his breeches, sending shocking jolts of arousal through her body. “I do not deny it,” she gasped. “Wanting you does not lessen the mistake I would be making if I gave into my desire.”
He stumbled away from her, his eyes red and hot. “I wish to God I never returned! I vowed Hawkcliffe Hall would fall into the sea before I came back. It’s like a chain around my neck, this obsession, dragging me back to you. Molly said you had gone for a walk and I was seized with terror that you had walked into the sea. If you were gone—if I could never see you again, I think the stitching that is holding me together would snap.”
Her breath stopped. Blood roared in her ears. “I will never be free of you,” she said softly, the realization dawning anew. “Whatever promises you make, you will not allow it.”
Crispin fixed her with a steely gaze. “I was not aware you wished to leave me.”
“I don’t know what I feel! I don’t understand what happens to me when you’re near. I did not welcome your advances—”
“But you do now.”
Fawn flung away from him. Tears lashed down her cheeks. “I will not be brought to ruin for a—a—moment of lust.”
“What we have between us is more than mere lust. Why do you deny it?”
His chest rose and fell rapidly. The force of their feelings at seeing each other again had taken both of them by surprise. It was like crashing into life again, abrupt, loud and far too bright.
She loved him.
Suddenly, all of the tension of the last week roiled and exploded within her. She loved him! It was not his fault. Indeed, Crispin had little to do with it if she was honest. Wolfe would never be free of his demons. The battles he had fought, losing his mother so cruelly, the hard life he had led for twenty-eight years had scarred him too deeply to give love.
On this, Fawn believed Wolfe completely. He did not love her and he never would.
But that did not prevent her from loving him.
Her courage was restored to her. “What we have was reflected in a mirror a few nights ago,” she said calmly. “A man trying to seduce a girl he does not love. In my darkest moments, when I am close to collapse, I only have to recall that you do not love me.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And I am strong again. As I said, I will not be brought to ruin for a moment of lust. ”
Crispin’s face closed and his eyes clouded with emotion. But his voice, when it came, was steady.
“Then we shall say no more about it.” He turned his eyes to the sea beyond the cave. “The solicitor in charge of Jocelyn’s estate informs me that you were not named in the will. No settlement will be forthcoming.”
Fawn was not surprised but it still hurt to hear the news so baldly expressed. Jocelyn had left no doubt as to her feelings toward her niece. “I expected as much.”
“Furthermore, I have been divested from my legal responsibility to you. You are free to go where you will. The solicitor provided me with the name of a lady who is seeking a governess for her three young children. He assumed I would want to send you packing as soon as could be. As my sister’s sole heir, I am a wealthy man. I shall have my pick of beautiful young ladies with titles and incomes to match. So all’s well that ends well.”
“Is it your wish that I become a governess?” Her throat closed.
“It is my wish that you do as you damned well please! I have money enough to restore Hawkcliffe Hall and withdraw from London society indefinitely—which is what I intend to do. I will not force you out, but if you do not go, I fear for my sanity.”
He ducked his head in a brief bow and moved resolutely to the mouth of the cave. “Friends from London are arriving on the three o’clock train to stay for a few days. I regret that I must leave you to make arrangements to meet them at the station.” Crispin paused. “I am glad to see you looking so well, Fawn. Good day.”
She waited until Wolfe was out of sight and then she sank to her knees and cried.
Chapter Twelve
LADY GILLIAN Coleridge was attentive and kind throughout the meal. Albus Laleham was attentive as well but his attentions made Fawn uncomfortable. His looks in her direction were lascivious—although she was beginning
to doubt her perceptions in that area. Did all men have the same instincts as Captain Wolfe?
After their conversation in the cave on the beach, Fawn had returned to the Hall slowly, needing a solitary walk to examine her thoughts and escape Crispin’s searching gaze for a few hours. He had cleverly undermined her opinion of herself to the point that she actually felt guilty for hurting him!
In reality (Fawn reminded herself) Crispin had trapped her at Hawkcliffe Hall and could press his demands with impunity until she relented. The only other future he offered was that of a governess. According to her aunt’s acquaintances, governesses were viewed with distaste and mistrust. Fawn doubted she could tolerate such servitude. If she dared strike out on her own to make a living, the risk of the workhouse or the asylum was very real with no connections to recommend her. No, on further reflection, Crispin Wolfe did not deserve her pity.
“You are awfully quiet, my dear.” Albus Laleham was gazing at her with concern.
She had no experience with gentlemen. Perhaps Mr. Laleham was a kind man and it was she who was depraved for reading evil in him.
“I am simply enjoying the conversation, sir. You’ve all led such exciting lives.”
There was another guest at the table, a young man by the name of Corporal Wilfred Jameson, a relation of Lady Coleridge’s and a career soldier. He was in his early twenties by Fawn’s estimation. Lady Coleridge had brought him along to Wolfe’s great irritation. It was a small revenge, but Fawn took delight in listening attentively to Corporal Jameson’s conversation, effectively ignoring Wolfe.
“I was grieved to hear about your recent loss, Miss Heathcote,” Jameson said in a quiet undertone. “Were you very close?”
Wilfred’s eyes were a soft warm brown and he smiled frequently. The corporal did not have Crispin’s striking features, but he was very fine-looking. And his manners were impeccable.
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