by Gill, Tamara
Sadly the idea of burying Mr. Stewart in one of her trenches had come to mind. It would certainly fix all her problems and for a man to threaten a vulnerable woman, she doubted he’d be missed very much in this world.
A light knock sounded on her door and she sat up in the bath, the water splashing over the side. “Who is it?” she asked, thankful she’d locked the door.
“It’s me. Duncannon. I need to speak to you.”
She sat in the bath a moment longer, unsure if she wanted to speak to him. Every time she was around him, he made her feel and do things that she’d promised herself never to feel or do since losing Omar. Even so, she stood, clasping the towel off a nearby chair and wrapped it about herself, walking to the door. “What do you want?” she whispered, hoping no one saw his lordship whispering at her door like a lover after a midnight tryst.
“Can you meet me in the downstairs back parlor? Everyone is in the front drawing room waiting for dinner to be announced, but I need to speak to you.”
Hallie frowned. What did Lord Duncannon need to speak to her about? “I’ll be down directly. I’ll meet you there.”
She listened at the door as his receding footsteps sounded on the carpeted passageway. Hallie dressed quickly in a clean afternoon gown. The bodice was a little snug and the cut of the dress was a couple of years old, but it was still reasonably unworn and suited her coloring.
As she made her way downstairs, she couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted to discuss. She also couldn’t help but debate whether she should confide in him about Mr. Stewart. She didn’t have to mention her son, but she could mention what her past in Egypt had been, and that Mr. Stewart was threatening to expose. It would give her a good indication of what Lord Duncannon thought of her actions.
Her past as a woman who had fallen in love and slept with another man out of wedlock. If he was supportive and not offensive toward her, he may be someone she could turn to for help, to eventually tell of her boy. Lord Duncannon had powerful friends, many of whom could make Mr. Stewart keep his mouth closed and leave her alone for good.
The drawing room was dark, and yet a small candle burned on the mantel and the fire had been lit. Lord Duncannon came over to her as she entered and locked the door behind her, helping her to a chair before the hearth.
“There is something that I need to ask you and you may tell me to go to the devil, but I really do hope you’re able to give me the truth.”
“If I can I will.” She looked up at him as he sat on a nearby chair, working his hands in his lap. Nerves pooled in her stomach that perhaps Mr. Stewart had already been at work with his lordship and poisoning his mind against her.
“I’m nervous to ask you what I want,” he admitted.
Hallie smiled to put him at ease and yet her stomach churned. What was it he wanted to know? Or worse, what did he suspect? “Ask me, Arthur, or you’ll make me as nervous as you are.”
He took a deep breath, meeting her with a steady gaze. “I wanted to ask you about your time in Egypt. What your life was like there.”
Everything within her stilled. To ask such a question made it abundantly clear that Mr. Stewart had been whispering ideas into people’s heads. Who else had he spoken to? What other suggestions had he made them think? Of course, she could be turning paranoid, but she highly doubted it. The man was bent on ruining her reputation. “It was a very busy life. We had multiple dig sites that Mr. Shelly was overseeing and every day a new artifact was found and catalogued. You’re the benefactor of the British Museum, surely you would know as well as anyone how busy we were. The museum did take delivery of multiple artifacts from us.”
“Of course,” he said, a small frown between his eyes. She watched him a moment and could see he was struggling with some truth or a question that he wasn’t certain he should ask. Or know how to breach. “Did you have much of a social life in Egypt?”
And there it was, the one question that she had been dreading. Even so, a little relief poured through her that he’d asked. She didn’t have to tell him about Ammon, but she would not hide the courtship with Omar. She had loved him, with all her heart and no one would ever change that wonderful time in her life. “I enjoyed dinners and balls similar to those held in London at the Consul General’s home in Cairo. Mr. Henry Salt had close ties with the ruler of Egypt, the Pasha Mohamed Ali, and the evenings were always interesting and pleasurable. Mr. Salt is an Egyptologist, and immensely clever. You know him of course.”
“I have met him once or twice. He has given antiquities to the British Museum as well.”
“Of course,” she said, well believing that. “Just as in England, the ruler of Egypt had a militia, men who were under his rule and protected him. They too were often at these events, but always watching, not taking too much of an interest.” Except for one of course. Omar, who had seen Hallie from across the room, and her world had stopped at the sight of him. His too, she knew.
Lord Duncannon’s eyes narrowed on her and she could see he was weighing her words. “Did you…” He cleared his throat. “Were you courted while abroad?”
Hallie raised her brows as she thought back on that time. How the sight of Omar had made her heart skip a beat. He had not moved, merely watched, and yet his eyes had heated with interest at the sight of her and she had known, somehow, in some way, their lives would intertwine.
“My time in Egypt was very memorable and pleasant. I shall miss it forever.”
He watched her and she could see in his eyes that he wanted no secrets between them. If he was serious about courting her she supposed they shouldn’t have secrets, but something in Arthur’s eyes gave her pause. A fear of hearing of her past may cause him to not like what he heard stilled her tongue. Stopped her from forming the words that she’d fallen in love in that wonderous, ancient land and regretted not a bit of it.
“I want us to be honest with each other, Hallie. No secrets.”
“There is nothing that you need to know, my lord,” she lied, hoping he could not read her too well or tell when she was trying to hide a secret. He was not ready to hear her truths, and in all honestly, she was not ready to tell him. Not really.
“What about you?” she asked, changing the subject matter. “You’re well known in London and many mama’s wish to turn your head toward their charges. Is there no one that your grandmother has chosen for you?”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I’m sure there are many, but none of them would suit. I’ve never been one for meek and mild,” he said, giving her a pointed look that made her skin warm.
She wasn’t fool enough not to know he meant her. He wanted to court her after all, but still, there were so many secrets between them. So many things that he’d dislike if only he knew the truth. For a moment she debated telling him everything anyway, laying her whole life in Egypt on the table, and letting the axe fall on her neck or not.
Lord Duncannon she was certain was above all a man of honor, but then, some were thin-skinned when it came to women and thinking they’d been duped by the fairer sex.
“I suppose that explains why you’re courting me then. I’m neither of those things.”
“No you’re not.” He came and sat beside her. His nearness overwhelmed her. Terrible as it was, scandalous even, she longed to be held, to be the whole focus of someone else. The way Lord Duncannon made her feel was reminiscent of how she’d felt with Omar and it was heady indeed.
He reached up, tracing her lips with his finger. “You’re so beautiful you make my breath catch every time I see you.”
Nerves fluttered in her stomach. “Even when I’m dressed in my breeches and covered in mud?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood. His steely gaze put paid to that attempt of denial and she swallowed.
“Even then.”
She gasped as he took her lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue sweeping across hers. Her head spun a moment before she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him back. She’d wanted to k
iss him again too. Every time she’d caught a glimpse of him on the grounds, strong and tall, muscular and lean, her hands itched to run across his body. To feel his warm skin against hers, his touch on her person.
“You drive me to distraction,” he admitted, kissing her deeper still.
She pulled back, meeting his gaze. “It’s the same for me too,” she said, kissing him again and losing herself to him and to all he offered, for now at least.
Chapter 12
Arthur tried to rein in his need for Hallie, but her sweet gasps and her decadent kisses made his wits spiral. He clasped her face and took all that she was willing to give him. He’d longed for this woman in his arms from the very moment they had been parted. He’d dreamed about her constantly and with the few women he’d bedded over the years, all of them paled in comparison to her.
He did not care what his family thought of his choice, it was well and truly made. A wife without wits, a society doll that pandered to the ton, gossiped and took tea all day long made his jaw ache in distaste.
He found himself lowering her on the settee, coming over her. Hallie would never bore him, her mind alone was sharp enough to keep him on his toes. She loved travel and would be willing to visit foreign places without hesitation. Their life appeared before him, rich and full and he couldn’t grasp it soon enough.
She was all soft curves and womanly flesh that made him ache. He settled atop her, basking in her warmth and acquiescence. He wanted this life with a desperation that scared him, and yet he could not help but feel she was hiding something from him. Her hesitation in answering him regarding her time in Egypt was telling.
Maybe Mr. Stewart was hinting at something after all. Was it so bad that she could not confide in him? He would never do anything that hurt her, he’d paid for that mistake for seven years, he wouldn’t do it again.
One of her legs slipped about his and she pressed herself against him. He rubbed his hard-as-rock cock against her mons and she moaned through their kiss. Just as she was in life, in the private setting they were now in she was reactive, thrilling, and as sweet as he remembered.
It would be so easy to seduce her, but he would not. Not here. He needed her to trust him above anything else, and to see what they could be together. He would not rush her in this.
He pulled back, his breathing ragged and, looking down at her, he noticed her breath too was labored, her breasts straining against her bodice. The scent of flowers rose from her skin and he knew she’d bathed before coming downstairs. The image of her being in a bath, lathing soap and relaxing in water made him groan.
“I should escort you back to your room before anything further progresses tonight. We’re in no rush.”
She bit her lip, her eyes wide and a little cloudy with arousal. Her gaze dipped to his lips and he inwardly swore. Her thoughts stating otherwise as clear as the written word. The choice was impossible. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to hoist up her gown, slide down low on the settee and feast on her, every part of her person. Then, and only when he had her writhing in pleasure, and begging for him to take her, would he sheathe himself into her welcoming heat.
He shut his eyes, trying to blot out the image of doing exactly that.
“You should.” She slipped her other leg about his, pulling him hard up against her core. Unable to stop himself, he slid against her flesh, the pleasure rocking him to his center. His body roared to have her.
She lifted her hips, grinding against him, taking her own pleasure when he didn’t move.
“Damn it, Hallie. Stop.”
A wicked grin slipped across her lips and his control snapped. He thrust against her, and she gasped into their kiss. The delicious friction was too much. He would not come here. Not in a drawing room at Baron Bankes’s house party.
This time he found the strength to tear himself away and he stood, walking over to the window and hoisting it up. The cool, night air went someway in chilling his skin and cooling his need for her. He leaned over the sill, his brain demanding that he turn and finish what they both wanted.
And damn it all to hell he wanted her.
He felt her come up behind him and he straightened. She wrapped her hands about his waist from behind, holding him tight. “You make it hard to stop. I will tell you a secret and then you can walk me to my room.”
Her hands slipped over his chest and his breath caught when her fingers dipped between the buttons on his waistcoat and slipped against his shirt.
“What is it?” he asked, curious and wanting to know everything there was to know about her. His grandmother would say he was a little obsessed with her, and perhaps he was, but his certainty that she was the one for him had never waned. Not even after all the years they were apart had it lessened.
“Even with all my plans to travel abroad that I had before meeting you in Felday, there was a small part of me that hoped you’d return that morning. That fate had placed you before me and that I should listen to its call. I think we both missed an opportunity that day, one that I’m unsure we can ever get back.”
He turned, frowning down at her. “We can get it back, Hallie. The feelings that I had for you then have done nothing but doubled since that day. I will earn your affection and trust. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”
She nodded, and he could see that her eyes had gone a little glassy with emotion. “I will hold you to that promise, Lord Duncannon.”
“I hope you do, Miss Evans.” Always.
Hallie woke to the sound of heavy rain hitting the windowpane. She pushed back the covers on her bed and walked to the window, pulling back the dark, velvet drapes to see bad weather had settled in and didn’t look to be going anywhere.
She sighed, debating what she should do. There was much work to do up at the dig site and she could still accomplish that in the small tent that had been erected for her workshop.
Finishing her morning toilette, she dressed in breeches, shirt, and jacket, and slipped on her greatcoat and broadbrimmed hat that she had used in Egypt. It would serve to keep the rain from dripping down her neck just as it stopped the sun from burning her skin.
The walk up the excavation site took longer than normal. The ground was already wet and boggy, her boots sinking half an inch with each step. The site was vacant of any workers and that suited her fine. She went into the tent, happy to see everything was where she’d left it last. Hallie lit a lamp and got out her sketchbook, needing to sketch their finds of the day before and explain what she believed they were.
For some hours she worked, drawing and studying while outside the rain relentlessly hit the canvas roof, lulling her with its calming rhythm.
The canvas flap of the tent flipped open and she jumped at the sight of Lord Duncannon, a warm swirl of pleasure blossoming inside her at the sight of him.
He sighed, the sound tinged with relief. “You’re here,” he said, more to himself as he stepped into the tent, shuffling out of his greatcoat. He ran a hand through his wet, dripping hair, leaving the golden strands on end. He looked deadly handsome and after last night she wasn’t sure it was a good idea that they were alone together. He had left her unfulfilled, and all night she’d tossed and turned, wanting more.
To be teased in such a way without gaining release was not what she constituted as a gentlemanly thing to do.
“I am. I’m cataloguing our finds. What are you doing here? You’re soaked through.” She took in his clothing, his damp breeches and shirt that clung to his person and accentuated his every delicious curve of muscle on his abdomen. Hallie was unable to tear her eyes from his chest.
“You should probably stop looking at me as if you’d like to take a bite out of me before I let you,” he teased, sending her a wicked grin. “I had not seen you about the house and I grew concerned. When your maid said that you had left before she had time to serve you breakfast, I came to check on you.”
She chuckled. “Did you think I had run away, my lord? That your seduction last evening had sc
ared me?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, simply stared at her a little mute before he cleared his throat, once again pushing back his hair. The action did little to cool her ardour. If she were honest with herself, she had started to think that she was a little preoccupied with him. More than was healthy. For both of them.
“It worried me that it had.”
She looked at him quickly. “Why?”
He raised his brow, walking about her work table, picking up a few of her finds, inspecting them before placing them back down. “The thought of being with you again is what gets me up each morning and keeps me moving forward throughout the day. That the idea of not having you in sight, of having you by my side as we walk through this life scares me. That what I feel for you is stronger than what I’ve felt for anyone ever and that you may not reciprocate that emotion.”
Hallie stilled at his words, having not expected such honesty from his lordship. Nor did she think that what he’d said would resonate so much within her. Last evening she’d wanted to keep walking along the corridor to his room, shut the doors on the world and become lost in each other’s arms.
The stab of disappointment when he’d done exactly what he said he would had been profound. Even now, here up at the dig site, all she could think about was being with him like that again, and possibly more.
Her gaze flicked to the makeshift trundle bed that had been brought up for her, just in case she was caught here or in need of rest. Now it glowed like a beacon of pleasure. They were, no one would venture up here today with the bad, relentless weather.
Nerves pitted in her stomach and she busied her hand on her sketch of the small, round coin she had found.
“You have beautiful hands. Do you know that?” His hand that had been sliding across the wooden table top, slipped across the top of hers and slowly made its way up her arm. A shiver ran down her spine and she looked up, meeting his gaze. It was heavy with desire and she took a calming breath, placing down her pencil.
