by Clee, Adele
“You came,” uttered the masculine voice that had Julianna clutching her hands to her chest and gasping for breath. “I knew you would.”
“Mr Granger.” Every muscle in her body stiffened. “You frightened me to death. I might ask what you’re doing here at night, but I assume you’ve come ghost hunting.”
“Oh, I’ve come hunting, darling, but not for ghosts.”
Breathe!
“Have you not arranged to meet Miss Winters?”
“Why would I meet Miss Winters when we arranged to meet?”
Julianna tried to temper the rising panic. “You’re mistaken. We made no such arrangement, sir.”
He prowled closer. “During dinner, you challenged me to come to the ruins tonight. It was a novel way of arranging a secret assignation, but I heard your silent plea.”
A secret assignation?
The fellow had taken to inventing stories. Dangerous people convinced themselves their fantasies were reality. She’d need all her wits to keep this viper at bay.
“I believe Lord Roxburgh offered the challenge, sir.” It was a lie, but she had to buy time so she could shuffle closer to the boundary wall. “I am here to decide if someone has been impersonating a monk.”
He tilted his head. “I understand. They say your mother played the coquette. Women of your ilk enjoy making men sing for their supper.”
“Women of my ilk?” Heavens above! He thought her reservations were a ploy for attention. She had to keep him talking until she reached the boundary door. “Are you implying I’ve inherited a desire to entertain men?”
“You’re Giselle de Lacy’s daughter. Lust is in the blood.” Mr Granger licked his lips while his lecherous gaze devoured her figure. “You’ve been staring at me all evening.”
She had been staring at all the men, wondering if any of them bore a grudge against Bennet Devereaux. “And you’ve been staring at Miss Ponsonby. I assumed you’d taken a fancy to your cousin’s mistress.”
“I’ve taken a fancy to you, Mrs Eden.” He shifted closer, so close she caught a whiff of his foul brandy breath. “Pony is a pest, while you’re a sumptuous package.”
How she wished the ghost would appear and scare the dickens out of this devil. But there was no chance of that. Miss Winters was holding a secret meeting with her accomplice at the coaching inn in Bramley.
In the absence of a ghost or a weapon, Julianna had but one option if she hoped to calm this beast. “What will Lord Devereaux say when he learns you’ve propositioned his mistress?”
The blackguard’s mocking laugh echoed through the cloisters. “Devereaux left the library an hour ago and failed to return. He’s taken himself to Bramley to visit Miss Winters.” He tapped his nose and winked. “It will be our little secret. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”
Julianna’s stomach roiled.
Not because she believed the rogue.
But because she knew she had no option but to fight this fiend.
“Then let me make my position clear, Mr Granger, in the hope we may laugh about this silly misunderstanding.” She edged left. “My loyalties lie with Lord Devereaux. I will never entertain another man in my bed.” She felt the truth of those words as she spoke.
As expected, Mr Granger did not respond kindly. He pounced, his claw-like fingers grabbing her cheeks and squeezing her mouth into a painful pout.
“Let me make my position clear, Mrs Eden.” Anger distorted his features. “Women do not refuse me, and certainly not a cheap whore following in her mother’s shadow. I take what I want. Do as I damn well please.” Droplets of spittle hit her cheek. “Play along nicely, and I’ll not be so rough.”
The man was like a feral dog, snapping and snarling just to intimidate. Julianna’s only option was to run, to fight him with every breath in her lungs. Without further thought, she kicked him hard in the shins, followed it with a powerful punch to his gut.
Mr Granger cried out and doubled over.
With no time to lose, Julianna dropped her shawl and scooped up her skirts, took to her heels and darted through the boundary doorway. She left the path and crossed the grass, deciding it was safer to head to the house than the secluded cottage.
The slam of the boundary door and Mr Granger’s cruel curses sent her heart leaping to her throat. She could not outrun him, but the closer she got to the house, the more someone was likely to hear her screams.
“Bitch!” Mr Granger yelled.
He was close now.
She couldn’t risk glancing behind for fear she’d trip and fall.
“Whore!” The brute’s ragged breathing and vile obscenities permeated the night air. He grabbed the back of her gown and yanked hard, tearing the silk.
“Argh!” Julianna tumbled back onto the damp grass. She kicked Mr Granger, but after a frantic tussle, he managed to sit astride her.
“Is this how you like it?” He captured her flailing arms and pinned them to the ground to stop her thumping his chest.
“Get off me!”
The stench of his breath made her retch.
“Help!”
Fear will make you weak.
Mr D’Angelo’s words entered her head. As an agent of the Order, he had come to Howland Street to teach the new recruits how to defend themselves against the villains in the rookeries.
Keep your elbows tight to your ribs. Grab his wrist with one hand, his upper arm with the other, and a quick flick of your hips will unbalance him.
Julianna had listened intently, remembered every word. But with this disgusting devil looming over her, gripping her arms, it was impossible to act.
She screamed, screamed so loud someone must have heard her plea.
Consumed by anger and lust, Mr Granger collapsed on top of her. His weight crushed the air from her lungs. Then his filthy mouth slammed against hers, smothering her cries for help.
Memories of Edward Eden surfaced. Courage abandoned her, and the need to fight scurried away like a craven coward. She lay still on the cold ground, tears slipping down her cheeks, and prayed it would soon be over.
Then came the battle cry—the inarticulate roar of reinforcements.
Mr Granger seemed oblivious to the commotion and continued nudging her skirts higher with his knee. The attack, when it came, tore a shriek from the reprobate as he went hurtling through the air and landed on the ground with a thud.
“Get the hell off her!” Bennet snarled through gritted teeth. He dragged Mr Granger to his feet and punched him hard on the nose. “Is this how you treat women? Is this how you treat a guest in my home?”
Mr Granger clutched his face and howled in pain.
Amid a torrent of vitriolic curses, Bennet kicked the lout to the ground, climbed on top of him and hit the man about the face so hard Julianna winced with each loud smack.
“Bennet!” She scrambled to her feet, righting her skirts. “That’s enough! Stop! Please!”
But he was like a man possessed. He yanked Mr Granger to his feet. “You spineless bastard. Let’s see how you fare with someone your own size.”
Despite the trickle of blood leaking from Mr Granger’s nose and mouth, he found his arrogance. “Let’s make a wager. The winner gets to bed Mrs Eden.”
The comment left Bennet enraged.
A fight ensued.
Savage grunts echoed as the men threw punches. Bennet ducked to avoid Mr Granger’s weak attack and countered it with a vicious blow to the man’s stomach. The miscreant groaned and cradled his abdomen. He recovered in seconds, then growled and charged at Bennet, knocking him to the ground.
They continued wrestling and exchanging blows. Bennet was by far the most skilled in combat. Julianna begged them to stop, but her words fell on deaf ears.
Thankfully, Lord Roxburgh heard the hullaballoo and came charging across the lawn. He grabbed Mr Granger by the scruff of his coat and hauled him backwards, though the man continued flailing and spitting blood-stained insults.
Lord Roxburgh glanced
at Julianna’s torn, mud-splattered gown. Recognition dawned. In an uncharacteristic surge of anger, the lord released Mr Granger and slammed his fist into the man’s jaw.
Mr Granger’s head whipped left with such force he was left dazed.
Bennet fought to catch his breath. “Get this bastard off my land! Now! Tonight! I want them all gone. Do you hear? I want them out of my bloody house!”
Lord Roxburgh held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll have the carriages brought round at once. We’ll be gone within the hour.”
But Bennet refused to let the matter rest. He charged at Mr Granger and punched him in the ribs. “I should call you out for disrespecting Mrs Eden. Indeed, name your second, and we shall meet at dawn.”
Lord Roxburgh’s dark eyes flashed with fear. “There’s no need for grand gestures, Devereaux.” He tugged Bennet’s arm and pulled him away from the brute. “You’ve given the man a good beating. Mrs Eden wouldn’t want you risking your life for this worthless ingrate.”
“Please, Bennet. Let him go.” Tears welled at the thought of Bennet wielding a pistol at dawn. “Mr Granger will leave. Let that be the end of the matter.”
It would not be the end. She would conduct an investigation into the man’s affairs and find some way to punish him. If only to prevent another woman from suffering the same fate.
Mr Granger remained tight-lipped, his bravado vanquished.
“I’ll hear it from Granger,” Bennet insisted. “Along with an apology for the deplorable way he treated Mrs Eden.”
With obvious reluctance, the cad confirmed he had no desire to meet on the duelling field. He mumbled an apology. Agreed he would leave for Brighton immediately and remain there for the foreseeable future.
For Bennet’s sake, she accepted his insincere offerings, and Mr Daventry would not permit anyone to treat his agents with disrespect. Lord help Mr Granger when the master of the Order discovered she had been assaulted in such a degrading manner.
“Escort Mrs Eden to her cottage.” Lord Roxburgh grabbed hold of the bruised and bleeding Mr Granger. “I shall personally throw Granger into his carriage. We won’t be far behind.”
Bennet nodded. “We’ll talk about this when I come to town.”
“Perhaps then you might tell me what the hell is going on.”
Bennet watched Lord Roxburgh drag the rogue across the lawn. Anger emanated from every fibre of his being, but when he turned to face Julianna, guilt marred his handsome features.
“Can you forgive me, Julianna?”
“There is nothing to forgive. It wasn’t your fault.”
“We should have stayed together.”
“I encouraged Lord Roxburgh when he suggested retiring to the library.” She’d thought it a perfect opportunity to question Mrs Thorne about the dresses stolen from the attic. “And you weren’t to know of Mr Granger’s questionable character.”
Shock suddenly took command of her body. The trembling started in her shoulders and rippled violently to her toes. Vile images of the miscreant’s face flooded her mind. The sickly stench of his brandy breath filled her nostrils.
“I cannot recall ever being so frightened,” she admitted.
Bennet stripped off his coat, draped the garment around her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Come. This should keep the cold at bay until we reach the cottage. This time, I insist on lighting the fire and making tea.”
“Do you even know how?”
“To light a fire?”
“To make tea.”
He shrugged. “How hard can it be?”
The comment chased away the chill, as did his coat. The heavy garment enveloped her with his warmth, his scent, his unique essence that was entirely unforgettable.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he said, escorting her across the manicured lawn back to the cottage. “You used to tell me everything.”
Yes, and she had not spoken to anyone in the same way since.
“If I tell you, promise you won’t chase after Mr Granger and beat him senseless.” Mr Daventry would make the reprobate pay for his crime.
“I’ve stopped making promises I cannot keep. Be assured I shall cross swords with Mr Granger soon.” Bennet paused. “I presume he followed you from the house.”
“He made the usual mistake. He believed Giselle de Lacy’s daughter must be equally free with her affections.” Lord, she suddenly recalled what she’d said to the brute. “Bennet, to discourage him I said I was your mistress.”
He jerked to a halt. “You told him we were lovers?”
Lovers.
Heat coiled in her stomach. Heat journeyed south, pooling hot between her thighs. For the first time in her life, the word didn’t sound dirty or disgusting. It sounded beautiful. Divine.
Julianna kept walking lest he notice the flush rising to her cheeks.
“Forgive me. I thought it might deter him,” she said when Bennet caught up with her. “But he said you’d left Witherdeen to meet Miss Winters at the coaching inn. You do know Mr Granger brought Miss Winters to Bramley?”
“Roxburgh told me, but I had no knowledge of it until an hour ago.”
She’d not doubted him for a second. “Evidently, she’s here to cause trouble. The question is, who has she come to meet?”
“It cannot be anyone here. Miss Ponsonby retired for the evening. Lowbridge and Mrs Thorne were in the library when I left.”
“Who else could it be?” Julianna hadn’t seen Mr Branner all evening, although he would have no cause to come to the house at night. Miss Winters may have lied about meeting someone when really she had nefarious plans.
They reached the cottage.
Bennet opened the garden gate and stepped aside for her to enter. “It could be Mullholland. There was a fire in the stable block tonight. Mrs Hendrie called me from the library. I remained there until certain the blaze posed no threat. I should speak to Branner, but it can wait until tomorrow.”
“A fire! Good Lord!” Panicked, she scanned every inch of his muscular body. “You’re not hurt? Tell me you’re not hurt.” This fear of him dying, of losing him again, proved confounding.
He rubbed his jaw. “I may have a faint bruise from Granger’s weak right hook, but my men have the blaze contained.”
“Do you think Miss Winters started the fire?”
“No. The faulty pulley system seems to be the cause.”
“Based on previous events, we were expecting a fire tonight.”
“An uncanny coincidence, one might think.” He sounded doubtful.
“Or a rather skilled deception.”
The cottage stood in darkness but for a stream of moonlight illuminating the door as if it were a gateway to heaven. Logic said they should part ways here. Being alone with Bennet Devereaux for any length of time would arouse feelings best left buried. Only a fool would fall in love with a man destined to marry the daughter of a duke.
“Is this where we say good night, Julianna?” His velvet voice stirred her senses. “Am I allowed inside, or will you banish me back to the house?”
The need for his company ran deeper than the endless fathoms of the sea. Besides, should she not distract him until Mr Granger’s carriage was clattering back to Brighton?
“And refuse a cup of tea made by the Marquess Devereaux?” she teased.
“You may live to regret it.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Julianna tried to keep her breathing even as she led him into the cottage. It didn’t help that he lingered near the door, forcing her to brush past him to lower the latch and slide the bolt.
The darkness possessed the power to bring raw emotions to the fore.
The darkness gave one the courage to speak from the heart.
“Tell me you’re all right,” he whispered, gripping her arms gently.
She looked up at him. “I’ve suffered worse hardships.”
“I swore you’d always feel safe here. I failed you again.”
“I
always feel safe with you.”
He brushed an errant curl behind her ear. “How can I put things right? What can I do to make you laugh like you used to, make you happy?”
Oh, she’d not felt the glow of happiness for such a long time.
“You could let me win the next race,” she said because giving a voice to her deepest desires would cause them both immeasurable pain. What was the point of wishing for something that could never be?
“Consider yourself victorious. Reach into my coat pocket and claim your reward.”
“My reward?” Intrigued, she delved into his coat and withdrew a silver bangle. It took a few seconds to register the significance. Then the beautiful memories came flooding back. Happy memories of a perfect Christmas spent with Bennet.
“Oh, Bennet! Is it the same one? Is it?”
“It’s the one from my mother’s trinket box. The one I gave you as a gift. The one you were forced to leave behind when Giselle stole you away on that stormy night.”
Tears sprang to her eyes.
A hard lump formed in her throat.
“Try it on.” Bennet took the bangle and slid it over her trembling fingers. “As a boy, I prayed you would return to claim your gift. As a man, I’d lost all hope.”
Julianna couldn’t speak.
Not because she’d forgotten how it felt to be happy, but because the boy she held in her heart still lived in this magnificent man.
Grateful beyond measure, she came up on her toes and kissed Bennet Devereaux on the cheek. As children, they’d not shied away from demonstrations of affection, but as her lips lingered on his warm skin, she was suddenly overcome with a woman’s lustful urges.
Bennet turned his head. Desire glinted in his tawny eyes, eyes so rich, so compelling, she could get lost in their majesty. He was so close his hot breath breezed over her mouth. The world around her faded. It was just the two of them, alone in the dark. Lost. Hurting. Seeking comfort.
“Thank you for helping me to remember.”
Before logic took command of her senses, she pressed her lips to his. An innocent kiss to banish all thoughts of Mr Granger. That’s what she told herself. But the mere brush of Bennet Devereaux’s mouth ignited her passions. The intoxicating taste of him, the power of his magnetic pull, left her hungering for his touch.
