What on earth could he be dreaming about? Gillian speculated with rising hope rose that this visit might be salvaged after all.
Albus must have sensed it too.
“My dear Wolfe, it occurs to me that when Miss Heathcote is in London under the watchful eye of Lady Coleridge, she might be persuaded to attend a meeting of the Society? You are well-acquainted with our activities, or at least you were until recently. When Drake heard of your engagement to Lady Coleridge, he prevailed upon me to urge you to bring Miss Heathcote to the next meeting.”
Wolfe abruptly sprang to life. His hand snatched out and wrenched poor Albus’s arm. “What has Drake to do with Fawn?”
“Darling, Drake wants to invite her into our little Society!” Gillian laughed gaily as though delivering the best possible news. “Your continued patronage of your ward has piqued his curiosity. He would like to become better acquainted with Miss Heathcote. That is all.”
“You may inform his lordship that in future he will speak to me directly regarding Fawn and refrain from sending his lecherous dwarf to do his bidding.”
“Now, now, Wolfe, there is no need for insult,” huffed Albus. “I am only the messenger.”
“Jameson, you would have no objection, would you?” Gillian asked.
Her cousin shrugged, his eyes on his cards, calculating his next play and not the least interested in the doings of the Society. Jameson was the darling of his mother’s eye but his gambling addiction was chewing away at the family fortune. When Jocelyn died, Gillian seized the opportunity to match him with Fawn on the expectation of the girl inheriting a tidy income from her aunt. The mystery of why this did not happen was revealed in the scene Albus witnessed between Wolfe and his niece this morning.
Poor Jocelyn, thought Gillian with a bored sigh. If she had kept her jealousy in check, she would have kept the affections of her attractive half-brother and her fortune. So foolish, and not a mistake Gillian intended to make.
Gillian’s eyes flicked to her future husband. “If Corporal Jameson has no objection, then surely you cannot, Wolfe.”
Crispin smiled tightly and returned his attention to the cards in his hands, closing off further discussion. Gillian attempted to put the incident out of her mind and concentrate on the game, but her blood ran hot in her veins.
This Captain Wolf was not the man she knew in London, the man she had wanted to marry. Captain Wolfe was a sensual, charmingly corrupt society darling—not a gloomy, pensive country lord. Why, here at Hawkcliffe, he was practically a puritan!
The man she had agreed to marry had changed. And Gillian was convinced it was that insipid girl who had changed him.
§
CRISPIN WAITED until his company were settled in their rooms and their candles extinguished before he entered the master bedchamber.
He stood at the side of the bed, watching Fawn sleep. What was this hunger she continued to stir in him? He could not set her aside, though he had made the attempt more than once. Not from a moral sense that what he was doing was wrong—Crispin knew his actions were wrong the first night he visited her room. His obsession with his sister’s niece sprang from something deeper and more troubling than mere animal lust. He needed her as one needs to draw breath.
Crispin reeled back and stood at the window. The sea moved in moonlit majesty below. If that was the case then how could he survive apart from her? What sort of life was he condemned to live if he could not be with woman he loved?
If she had admitted him to her bed that first night—he might have got her out of his system and avoided this pain. Instead, he was forced into hours and hours of solitary contemplation of the girl. Love was the inevitable result.
Or was it the other way around? Crispin wondered with exasperation. Were the seeds of love there from the first moment of meeting her? Love! Love was a cruel master, a consuming illness that wasted a man away.
All through dinner and the long evening in the company of Gillian and Laleham, he had one demand, one fixed obsession—to join Fawn in bed, to hear her sighs of pleasure in his ear.
Crispin stalked to the bed in two long strides. He pressed his mouth against hers, urging her plump lips apart with his, kissing deeply.
“Sleeping beauty,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
Fawn stirred and rubbed her eyes. When she saw it was him, she tried to sit up. Alarm flitted across her face “Crispin, what are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I had to see you again.” He was wearing a silk robe and for safety’s sake, he had pulled on a pair of flannel drawers.
It hurt Wolfe to look at her. He was actually experiencing pain, a response he could not explain, at how vulnerable she was, how beautiful. He sucked in a deep, shaking breath.
“When a man falls in love, he cannot keep the news to himself. Fawn, I am in love with you.”
Pain, confusion, and finally joy washed over her face. She nodded and half-lifted her arms to him. Fawn slipped her small cool hands under his robe and pushed it off his shoulders. She was wearing the nightgown she found in the wardrobe the night she arrived at Hawkcliffe. Crispin untied the ribbons and slid the loose thin muslin from her body.
They gazed at each other in solemn silence.
“We must be mad to be with each other like this,” she said quietly. “I’m frightened of what will happen to you if we’re found out.”
“I love you. Nothing can be done to me now.” Crispin ran his fingers over her eyes and lips, caressing her. “Loving you is the finest thing I have ever done.”
“I love you too, Crispin ... too much to put into words. When I am with you, I forget everything else.” Her voice dropped. “This morning ... with you in the stable was ... a dream ... an extraordinary dream. I almost wish it never happened ... it’s too painful to give you up now.”
“Fawn. Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes to his face. Her plump lower lip trembled.
“As long as I live, I am yours. I will always protect you. I will always love you. I swear it.”
He let his eyes roam her body. Perfectly shaped, narrow waist and tapered thighs. Her breasts were extraordinary. Her buttocks were round and firm. The clutch of black silky hair between her thighs held his gaze.
Crispin’s fingers made contact with the silky mat and she flinched as though shocked. He was as flustered as she was for a moment. He met her eyes again and his cock thickened to epic proportions. Fawn was trembling and worrying her cherry-red lip with small white teeth. Her eyes were shy, but also surprised and somewhat bewildered. He’d tapped into the wellspring of her sexuality. Her appetite for intercourse had been awakened.
Without realizing it, she lifted her hips, inviting his exploration and choked back a gasp as his fingers fluttered between the folds of her sex and stimulated the hard bud of her sex. Crispin didn’t stop the erotic massage until Fawn was ready to be penetrated. There would be no pain this time, only sweet release.
This was the last time, Wolfe ... the very last time....
He slid out of his flannel drawers, dropping them to the floor. Crispin lowered himself between her legs and eased them apart.
Fawn held her breath.
He met her eyes.
And then he penetrated her, sliding with silent ease into his beloved’s lush warm core.
Chapter Fifteen
FAWN HEARD a sound and knew it was coming from her. Crispin had wrapped his arms around her, holding her down to thrust deeper and harder. And she, who would normally object to being his captive, lifted her hips to admit all of him. She threw her head back and her fingers gripped his broad shoulders as Crispin pounded between her thighs—a battering ram at a solid oak door.
He will break in she thought feverishly when she could still form a coherent thought. The violence of their coupling was dissolving the barrier she’d always had inside her, the shield behind which Fawn had controlled her desires.
Before Crispin entered her world, Fawn had imagined sexual congress between
a husband and wife took the form of polite, orderly intercourse that was perform out of necessity.
What they were doing was far from polite and orderly.
Her back arched and she moaned, delivered into a faraway place where she no longer belonged to herself alone, but was joined forever with Crispin. And, as if understanding this in the same moment she did, Crispin’s glinting sapphire eyes locked with hers. She felt his quickening. His body stiffened and with one last powerful thrust, the man she loved let loose with a sound that thrilled her soul, and then shuddering, shaking, he collapsed over her body.
She clutched him to her, stroking his hair. Tears threatened but she would not cry. Not now. Her aunt’s roguish half-brother had torn into her quiet life like a storm at sea and nothing would be the same ever again. Crispin loved her! It was extraordinary—a miracle.
Fawn thought she could marry Jameson now and even be content because she had known true love. Even if she was forced to give it up, even if they were not fated to be together, she could be happy in her way, remembering what she found in the arms of her dark regent.
Would Crispin find the same peace?
“Lady Coleridge has asked me to be her maid of honor at your wedding,” Fawn said tentatively.
He lay entwined in her arms under the quilt, sleepy and sated after prolonged lovemaking.
“Perhaps your marriage will end this madness. You’ll forget me when you are in a happier situation.”
“You know me as well as I know myself, Fawn. Do you imagine I can forget you? After everything I’ve done to hurt you, it is you who will forget me. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I already have. Isn’t the depth of my love obvious to you by now?” She sighed, stroking his strong jaw. “You are so filled with darkness and pain, Crispin. I wish I could free you from what weighs on your soul.”
“You are my rose among the thorns, my beloved. Without you, I would be dead of disease, corrupt in mind and body. Battle had twisted all that was good in me into something ugly. If you had not resisted my advances, I would never have known the bliss of loving you.”
He kissed her again with rising passion.
“No,” she said firmly, pressing him back. Fawn caught her breath. “We must stop while there is still hope to live an unblemished life. With your new wife, you will be cured of me, and perhaps the desire you’ve awakened in me will fade too. And all that has come before ... the nights you demanded admittance to my room, the hours we loved each other ... all will become a sweet memory. Lady Coleridge will bear your children and Fawn Heathcote will be their beloved aunt, content with her small place in Crispin Wolfe’s world.”
Suddenly, she felt dizzy and sick and clutched him tightly to her. Fawn never thought the day would come when she would mourn separation from Jocelyn’s devilish half-brother.
Crispin gazed at her with sapphire-blue eyes that were too compelling to ignore. He held her gaze until the candle sputtered out.
And then they slept, entwined, like lovers.
GILLIAN CREPT into the master bedchamber just before dawn, anticipating an early morning romp with the voracious Captain Wolfe.
But the voracious Wolfe was not alone. A dark haired girl was curled against his chest and his arm was around her protectively. The girl was wearing a nightgown but Crispin was naked. Her hair was in a tangle—a tell-tale sign that she had been ridden all night.
The couple was fast asleep.
Gillian pondered the scene for a moment or two. She was a woman of the world, used to men. But Crispin taking his sister’s eighteen-year-old niece to bed when Jocelyn’s body was barely cold in the ground infuriated her. The hypocrisy! The high moral stance he had assumed with Albus and herself when they proposed initiating the girl into the Society—this would not pass. She would not allow it.
Lady Coleridge was a powerful woman. Crispin Wolfe would be made to answer for this calumny.
§
BREAKFAST IN the main dining room was a tense, awkward affair. Wilfred Jameson and Albus Laleham were the chief conversationalists, debating their plans for the day with cheerful enthusiasm despite the sour mood of their companions.
Fawn nibbled on a slice of toast and tried to wash it down with tea. Her appetite was gone. She was grateful to Wilfred for his determined good nature that allowed for silence at the same time he was not oppressed by it.
Lady Gillian did not have her cousin’s spirit. She made valiant attempts at conversing with Crispin until daunted by his one word responses she lapsed into irritated silence.
Molly bustled in with the tea pot, clattering the plates and dropping the cutlery. Fawn raised her eyes to examine the girl. Something was troubling her. Molly’s eyes were swollen from crying.
“Molly, is anything wrong?” Fawn half-rose from her seat.
She wrung her apron and hid her face.
“Sergeant Welland of the Royal Constabulary requests a word with Captain Wolfe, miss. He’s waiting in the front hall. He has been for the past twenty minutes. I didn’t know what to do, miss. I did not like to disturb you at breakfast.”
“Good God!” Crispin threw his napkin down and rose to his feet. “Show him in this instant, Molly. He won’t bite for pity’s sake!”
Fawn impulsively reached out her hand to rest it on Crispin’s arm and gave him a warning look. “He won’t bite but you sound as if you might.”
She turned back to the little maid. “Thank you, Molly. You may show Sergeant Welland in now. And ask him if he would like tea.”
Albus caught Gillian’s eye and they exchanged a look that was not lost on Fawn. She quickly withdrew her hand from Crispin’s arm and smiled at Wilfred.
“Molly is my only companion when Captain Wolfe is in London. I suppose we have established an informal routine at Hawkcliffe Hall.”
“You mustn’t allow the servants run wild, Fawn,” Gillian chided gently. “Do not worry; when you are in London, I shall oversee your education in running a household. I’ll have you trained to give orders in no time.”
Sergeant Welland was ushered into the room with Molly’s young man, Constable Martin, trailing behind. A tearful Molly closed the door and Fawn found herself holding her breath, suddenly quite frightened.
“Sergeant,” Crispin said. “How may I help you?”
“A witness has come forward with new information, sir. We are obliged to re-examine your alibi for the afternoon of your sister’s death. Is it true, Miss Heathcote, that you are engaged in a romantic relationship with your late aunt’s brother?”
The sergeant turned an impassive stare on Fawn. Heat flooded her face as she groped for an answer. “I am not, Sergeant Welland,” she answered truthfully. “Your information is incorrect.”
“Then can you confirm for us again that you were with Captain Wolfe at the time of your aunt’s death?”
Fawn hesitated, framing her response. She was about to speak when Crispin cut in.
“She was only trying to help. Miss Heathcote was unaware there was anything wrong in telling you what she believed to be true. I escorted my niece to the train station and then left to see to Jocelyn. When I did not return, Fawn boarded the train alone. I caught the next coach for Stokesbay within the hour.”
Sergeant Welland cleared his throat. “I see. Well. This presents us with a problem, Captain Wolfe. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
Wolfe’s eyes flicked over the company and Fawn felt she could read his thoughts. Albus, Gillian and Wilfred would discover the truth sooner or later. The soldier in Crispin had decided to make it sooner.
“I have nothing to hide. Please, ask your questions, Sergeant.”
“As you wish, sir. You admit to seeing your half-sister the day she died and then you persuaded your niece to lie for you. Is that correct?”
“No,” Fawn said earnestly. “Captain Wolfe had no idea I was going to say what I did. I acted on my own.”
Welland grunted, his suspicion growing. “And why would you do that, miss?�
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“I was afraid you would arrest him. I’m an orphan, you see, and with my aunt’s death, Captain Wolfe is the only relative I have left. Without him, where would I go? I was frightened of being sent away again.”
The sergeant exchanged a look with his constable. “After we questioned Captain Wolfe the first time, you weren’t frightened of being alone with a suspected murderer?”
Fawn twisted her hands. “Crispin didn’t hurt Aunt Jocelyn. I was not frightened of him, sir. I was frightened for myself.”
“Was this arrangement decided in advance? Did your uncle promise you security in exchange for providing him with an alibi?” Welland’s stare was flat.
“Absolutely not,” Crispin interjected. “I have no feeling for the girl. I admit to trying to seduce her on occasion but she refused me. My sister was a jealous neurotic who couldn’t stand the attention I paid her niece. However, I did not kill Jocelyn and I did not ask Fawn for an alibi because I didn’t need one! I left my sister in good health. As for security, Miss Heathcote is welcome to believe whatever fairytale she likes, but I would never offer her security. In fact, it is my intention to send her away to be a governess as soon as Lady Coleridge and I are married.”
“You are engaged to be married?”
“We certainly are,” Lady Coleridge retorted. “What does Captain Wolfe have to do with this business? If Miss Heathcote lied, surely that doesn’t change the fact of the captain’s innocence.”
“That’s not for me to decide, your ladyship.” He nodded at his constable who took a step toward Crispin. “Sir, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder. You will be escorted to Stokesbay and from there, transported to Scotland Yard in London, at which time you will be given leave to contact your solicitor pending a formal charge.”
The Dark Regent Page 12
