There was truly nothing else left to say. He could accept her reasoning or not. That was his choice.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 1
* * *
Kent had never seen rage on Lucy’s face before. It stunned him even more that in all the time he’d known her, she’d never displayed it on her own behalf.
She’d been angry and upset. He remembered those moments vividly, but this was different. It was powerful. It moved him.
But he kept that knowledge from his face. “Why didn’t you tell me about George before now?”
She lifted a brow, another new expression. “When was I to mention him? After you threatened to hurt everyone I loved? Or after you told me I’d regret not freeing you?”
She had a point.
Two years of seeing her every day. Two more years pining for her. And he felt like he didn’t know her at all. She had a nephew she cared for, someone she loved.
“Where is George now?” Kent asked.
“We live in a room I currently rent.” she said.
“In Mayfair?” he asked.
She shook her head and crossed her arms. “I could not afford that and make sure he had proper tutoring. We live off what my father left me without added income at the moment.”
Anxiety flooded him at the thought of her living somewhere in the city that wasn’t safe. He shouldn’t care, but he did. Her answers had been…unexpected. He’d known her to be an innocent, so he’d never guessed there was a child in her life. He’d assumed there was simply someone else…or she was mad.
That hadn’t stopped him from wanting her. After being locked away for so long, what mind wouldn’t become slightly unhinged?
She’d hit him with a chair to save her nephew pain, which moved something within his chest. His mother would never have gone through what Lucy had for him and Kent was her own son, her first born.
Kent had been left to suffer at his father’s hand. George had been beaten until he bled. So had Kent. He wanted to punish Lucy but couldn’t in good conscience.
So…he set his conscience to the side.
He’d had years of practice to perfect it. He’d had a father who’d thought him more a soldier than son and a mother who’d rather him dead. It was easy for him to turn off his emotions. Otherwise, he’d never have survived his house.
“You should have told me.” he said.
“Why?” Her hands fell at her side. “You did nothing but threaten me for years.”
“But I never hurt you!” He stood and crossed the room to her. “Not once did I lift a hand to you or hold you tight enough to leave a mark.”
She looked down.
He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze once more. “Had you told me and freed me, I would have helped you.”
“It was not a risk I was willing to take.” she whispered with fury blazing in her golden gaze.
“You made the wrong choice.” he said. “You will pay for that.”
The anger bled from her eyes and was replaced with fear. “But…George—”
“If you care about the boy, you will do exactly as I say.”
Her breathing became rushed. Her lips parted so that she could get more breath.
He stared at her mouth. He’d had years to think of how he’d get his revenge. “I was imprisoned for two years. You shall feel the same.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “No.” She tried to back up, but his arms went around her waist.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
“Very well, but I’ll call the authorities. You’ll go to prison. Then what will happen to George?”
Her eyes rounded again. Blood drained from her face. “Ganden, don’t do this.”
“And I see no point in giving you your own property, so you shall live with me. I’ll have a footman go by your place to retrieve your things.”
She was shaking her head wildly. “I’m not a whore.”
“The name you gave me suggested otherwise.”
Their bodies touched, and she stiffened. He recalled how she’d once leaned into his body, craving to be closer. And he recalled how he, in turn, had melted for her.
But that time had passed and would likely not return. She would bend to him eventually, but he would never give her control over him ever again.
She’d missed that opportunity when she’d refused to let him go.
“That was what Mr. Goody called me.” she said. “It was never true.”
“I don’t care. I shall simply call you mine from now on.” That was all that truly mattered to him. “And we shall finish what we began in that house years ago.” He cupped the back of her head, and her eyes went wide. Then he leaned forward and felt her take in a breath…as he moved his face to just before her ear. He inhaled her fragrance and sneered. Her skin was covered in perfume. He could barely smell her true essence anymore.
Still, if he concentrated…He pulled in another breath, accidently sweeping his nose against her throat.
She shivered in his hold. With distaste? She’d get over that.
She jerked away slightly, and he lifted his head.
“And if I refuse,” she said “you’ll have me imprisoned?”
“Yes, so make your choice.” He moved his hands to her lower back. “I’ll have your answer right now.”
Color returned to her cheeks, and she looked away. “Might I have the night to think it over?”
“I believe I gave you an order, Lucy.”
Her head snapped back to him. It was his first time using her true name.
“I need your answer now. Shall I go get the authorities?” He began to let her go.
She grabbed his arm. “No. Wait. All right. Yes. I’ll…do it.” She narrowed her eyes. “But make no mistake, I think you no better than Maltsby or Mr. Goody. At least they never went this far.”
No better than Maltsby or Mr. Goody?
Had Kent grown up with a mother who coddled him and a father who cared, he might have been more affected by that claim.
Additionally, her words would have made him feel more guilt if he planned on simply using her, but she’d come around. He wouldn’t touch her until she did. But this was not the time for comfort. He wanted her frustrated. He wanted her to feel just as undone as he had. “Disobey me and you’ll find that I’m far worse than either of those men. I’ll retrieve you tomorrow morning. Be ready when I do and don’t attempt anything foolish.” She’d hidden from him once. He wouldn’t allow her to get away again so easily.
She lifted her chin in defense, and he had to hold back a smile. If she believed a little fight would turn him away, then she was very wrong. He liked her spirit.
He’d missed her. He nearly hated her for that, making him miss her when she’d clearly forgotten all about him.
But she’d remember. There was no other choice. Never had he wanted anything or anyone more. He’d waited years for this moment. Years for her. Likely even longer than they’d been acquainted.
Something about Lucy made it impossible for him to stray from his plan and let her go.
“Perhaps, you will give me time to put my affairs in order?” Lucy asked.
He grabbed her chin. “This was not a discussion. I am telling you what will happen. If you feel the need to speak after I give a command, you will say, ‘Yes, my lord,’ and nothing more. Is that clear?”
She stared into his eyes. “Yes, my lord.”
Her submission made his hunger to have her underneath him all the more powerful. But instead, he let her go.
“Return to the party,” he told her “but I don’t want to see you dancing with another man.”
She couldn’t have crossed to the door faster. But then she stopped and turned to him, glaring at him from over her shoulder. “What happens if I do dance with a gentleman?” There was that defiance in her eyes again.
“If you care at all for your partner’s health, you’ll refrain.”
∫ ∫ ∫
1 2
&n
bsp; * * *
“Thank you for letting us stay here.” Lucy said as she watched the footman place her and George’s trunks at the foot of the bed. “It’s only for a night.”
“Of course.” Anna said. “I told you that you were welcome before you moved into those terrible rooms on the other side of town. I can’t imagine how you could have stood it there.”
Lucy closed the door and followed Anna to the drawing room. “You couldn’t imagine it, because your life has seen far less hardship.”
Anna looked at her and her expression became somber. “You’re right.”
That Lucy could speak to Anna so openly was a testament to their friendship. No matter what, her words were always safe with Anna. She’d never looked down on Lucy when nearly anyone else would have, and this was the first time Anna had said anything terrible about the flat that Lucy could never return to.
It had been a horrible place compared to Anna’s townhouse in Mayfair, but to Lucy, her small flat had been a haven, a place with the sweet aroma of freedom. Never mind that there hadn’t been enough money for George to have his own room or a private tutor.
In the flat they’d occupied, there’d been a small schoolroom available for a reasonable sum. The tutor there had been forced to deal with twenty children at a time, but at least George’s mind had been occupied.
Little things like that had managed to make Lucy smile when the last few years of her life had been one dreary thing after another.
“So, where will you go from here?” Anna asked as they settled down on the couch.
“I don’t know, but it must he far.” Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever see Anna again. “But I can’t give in to the earl’s demands. I can’t let myself become a…harlot.” The word had become to mean something far worse to Lucy than anything else.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Anna said. “There are far worse things than to be than the kept woman of an earl.”
Not for Lucy. “I’d be ostracized from Society.”
Anna laughed. “Ostracized? Do you know how much money he has? It was in the papers after that terrible scandal with Lord Maltsby. If you put him and the other stolen lords’ riches together, the amount would exceed that of King Solomon. You’ll be one of the most-envied women in London. Everyone will want you at their party.”
They’d discussed this all the way from the party.
Lucy knew about Ganden’s wealth, since she’d handled many of Lord Maltsby’s documents over the last two years. He was wealthy. He could have any woman he wanted if he wished. He was as rich as Croesus. He could have a harem if he wished.
So why her? No man would write sonnets to her beauty. She did not possess the body of a painted goddess.
“You’ll not be forced to make beds anymore.” Anna said.
Lucy closed her eyes. “No, I’ll only be forced to lay back on them.”
A vision of Ganden came to her. He held himself over her, just as he’d done that day all those years ago. That memory had begun to fade over time, but after seeing Ganden tonight, it was almost vivid enough to touch. She shivered and clung to the memory of his breath on her throat just that evening.
At first, when he’d lowered his head, she thought he meant to kiss her. She’d told herself that if he did, she’d slap him. She’d said it in her mind over and over again. She’d even prepared her hand.
But when his breath had brushed the sensitive flesh by her pulse…it had taken everything not to cling to him.
But she couldn’t encourage him. The man she wanted, the Ganden she wanted, was not the same one she’d seen tonight. This man was different. Cold in a way she didn’t recall. He’d seemed far more tortured in the last two years than that final morning they’d been together in Mr. Goody’s home.
What had happened to him during the last two years? Surely, he’d done more than simply search for her. Maybe there had been some sort of tragedy.
Why did she care?
“You already wish to be in the earl’s bed.” Anna reminded her with a wicked grin. “Don’t pretend otherwise. I don’t know how many times you’ve spoken of the earl these last few years.”
Lucy shook her head. “Have I spoken of him that often?”
Anna looked bewildered. “For months, he was all you spoke of. George and Ganden. Ganden and George. You even got them mixed up a few times.”
Lucy smiled. She had. But then her smile fell. “It was not supposed to be this way.”
Anna reached out and took her hand. “And maybe it will not always be this way. If you believed there was something there before, perhaps there can be something deeper again.”
Lucy lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Perhaps, but I don’t wish George to see me that way.”
“You’d rather him see you struggle?” Anna’s own expression looked worried. “Eventually, your money will run out, Lucy. What will you do then?”
“Find work,” Lucy said “and keep my dignity.”
Anna looked away. Clearly, she didn’t agree with Lucy’s decision, but for Lucy, there was no other choice.
“I’ll miss you most of all.” Lucy told her.
Anna looked back at her and smiled. “I’ll miss you, too.”
They shared a hug and then Anna left her and went to bed.
Lucy remained on the couch and tried to plan out her next steps.
She and George would head south. Her father had left her a small property in Portsmouth. Lucy had never gone there, because she’d thought finding work in London easier, but she’d head there now and sell the property. Hopefully, it would be enough for her and George to start a life elsewhere.
When her mind tried to conjure Ganden again, she shut him out.
Even with everything, she was happy to have seen him again. She was glad she’d had the chance to tell him the truth. She closed her eyes and told herself she’d reopen them in a second. She reassured herself she’d wake, get up, and join George in bed.
She just needed a moment.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 3
* * *
Lucy awoke to the most wonderful scent and feeling. She was cocooned. Somehow, her blankets—which had a deep woodsy undertone—had wrapped tightly around her body and were holding her hostage. It was a wonderful feeling. So good that she didn’t want to get up.
But she knew she must. She had to make George breakfast. She was surprised he’d not already woken her. She could feel the light of the sun on her face. It was warm and called for her to rise. There was also light breathing coming from somewhere.
George was likely close, perhaps waiting for her to open her eyes. Deciding not to delay any further, she cracked her eyes open and was greeted with a different face.
Ganden.
The blankets she thought were holding her tightened, and she realized they were his arms. She was in his arms. She glanced around the room. She’d fallen asleep in Anna’s drawing room.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve watched you wake up in my arms.” he murmured.
She turned back to him, shifting as much as she could in his hard hold and found herself experiencing the full effect of his green eyes. She felt crushed underneath them and the memories of the many times they’d woken side by side.
He’d spoken of himself and she’d spoken of what she planned to do that day, but never shared her past with him. He’d rarely complained about it, though she’d known it had frustrated him, the way she only ever gave him part of herself.
Now he wanted it all. He touched her cheek, and she instinctively leaned into the touch and froze. He slipped his hand beneath her head and lifted her until their noses nearly touched. “Didn’t I warn you against doing something foolish?”
Her mind was clearly still at rest, for it took long breaths for her to realize what he meant. And she wondered, for the first time, just how he’d gotten into Anna’s home and how he’d known she’d be here.
“How did you—?”
“I had you followed.” he said. “
Tell me you didn’t think that having searched for you for two years, I’d allow you to get away from me that easily.”
She had. She’d assumed he’d have trusted her to be where she was supposed to be in the morning. She’d never expected to be caught in her lie.
His hand tightened in her hair, and she trembled, not in pain, in something far worse. Her lower body tightened in response to this vicious man’s barbaric hold. Her entire being was waking for this man.
“We had an agreement.” he said tightly. “You gave me your word. Thank you for letting me know your word means nothing.”
The heat in her body vanished, or rather changed to mortification. Her cheeks stung as his words hit where he’d intended. “Let me go.”
He released her hair, but not before stroking his hand down her arm.
She rolled and gained her feet. “Of course, I lied to you. You left me no choice. You were being unreasonable. I will not be your mistress.”
He threw his arms over the back of the couch and managed to look like an indifferent and slightly-amused lord, but she knew not to ignore what she saw. His body held lethal power, and he could pounce on her at any moment.
He wore the same suit from the previous evening. Lucy could not help but take in how well the swell of his muscled thighs were encased in his buckskin.
“Why are you in your same clothes?” she asked aloud. And then wished she could take the question back. The answer was obvious. He’d clearly not been home. Perhaps, he’d gone to a brothel. For years, she’d seen Lord Maltsby come in much the same after long evenings. She didn’t even understand why he went. It never seemed to make him happier in the end.
“I slept with a woman last evening.” Ganden said.
She’d known that would be the answer, but the confirmation managed to hurt nonetheless. Had she really expected him to wait for her? To pine for her as she’d done him?
“Well.” Lucy placed her hands behind her back to keep from showing how much she was trembling. “Why not ask her to be your mistress?”
Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 6
