Invitation to Passion (11 page)

She squeezed his hand this time. “I’d like to get to know you,
properly
know you. I’m your wife...”

Richard lay back and covered his eyes with his arm. He didn’t really want to tell her about his childhood or let her look too closely at the man she thought she knew.

“Please.”

He tried to ignore her plea and failed.

“My father was not a nice man.” That was a bloody understatement. He heard her shift and lie down beside him. Her head nestled on his chest. Her closeness gave him comfort.

She traced a finger over the fastenings of his waistcoat. “I know he was a slave-trader. I often wondered if you befriended me because you understood what it was like to have a scandalous father.”

He had wondered that himself many times. Their situations were uncannily similar. “What you don’t know is that Anthony and I virtually grew up in different households. Luckily for me, although I couldn’t understand it at the time, my father took not a bit of notice of me.”

“I can’t remember my father at all. I was only two years old when he was killed. I would have liked to have known him.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “You remind me a little of him, quietly determined and very self-sufficient.”

“Is that how you see me?”

“Well, you have to admit that you’re not one to give up on anyone or anything. Take me, for instance. I had to keep writing to you because you kept writing to me, even if I didn’t respond regularly. I thought you’d give up, but no. The letters kept coming. You were so very determined.”

“Not determined, merely lonely.”

He hugged her close. “I know what that’s like. I had a twin brother, but I was never allowed to see him.” At her inquiring gaze, he continued with a sigh. “My father decided to toughen Anthony up so he that would be capable of running the family business. My mother protested at his methods, so he gave my mother a choice—exile with neither child—or she could have me if she left Anthony to him.”

“How awful!”

“For Anthony and my mother it was, but not for me. My father did terrible things to him. I admire my brother immensely. To have gone through all he did and still have the capacity to love, and to protect those weaker than himself...I’m in awe of him. He’s a fine man.”

“Just as you are.”

“I’m nothing like Anthony.”

“You have a big heart too. You’re good and kind. Anthony does love Melissa; it’s so obvious when he looks at her. But I remember a much colder man...”

He breathed deep and her lovely scent filled his head, blocking out the terrible memories. “True, he wasn’t always so kind. He’d shut himself off from people believing he was like our father—a monster. That’s why I arranged for him to compromise Melissa. I saw that she wasn’t like all the other simpering misses. She wasn’t scared of my brother. In addition, I learned her brother was going to force her into a marriage with an elderly man who was perverted. I thought I was doing them both a favor.”

“So, I’m not the only person you’ve saved?” she teased.

“No,” he said rather curtly.

She stilled in his arms. “I’m not upset at that.”

“Sorry, I know that.” He hesitated to reveal the next snippet. “Anthony has this silly notion that I try to save people because I couldn’t save him from our father.”

“I think that’s an admirable trait—saving people. Have you saved a lot of people?”

“Perhaps.”

She rose up on her elbows and looked at him, her eyes filled with adoration. “Who else have you saved besides me and your brother?”

He didn’t want to answer her. He didn’t want to look too closely at the motives that had driven his past behavior, nor have to explain the number of women he’d ‘helped’ over the years. What would she think of her hero if she only knew he had given his heart away as easily as his virginity—and with such willing enthusiasm. He was a feckless man. A man who could love and leave without any remorse or hurt. What did that make him? Shallow?

What would she think of him when his hero status had dimmed in her eyes? He was a man who couldn’t reveal his real self to anyone, especially not to Maddy. She was a woman constant in her affections. She didn’t give her friendship, her trust, or her love, easily. You had to earn it. However, once earned, she’d do anything for you. What’s more, her affection had been constant over the years. She was anything but fickle where her favors were concerned. He didn’t even know if he had the capability to love. Really and truly love, that is.

So he did what any man would do when faced with too much prying. He rolled his wife underneath him and proceeded to kiss her senseless.

An hour later, when he’d finished distracting his wife, she could barely remember her name.

#

The picnic and the ravishment that followed must have worn her out. Upon their return to the cottage, Maddy had a much-needed sleep, while Richard saw to some correspondence.

She lay upon their bed and swept her hand over the sheets. Life was perfect. Her face flushed as she remembered the way Richard had made love to her in the warm sunshine beneath their tree. She hoped the significance of the spot had helped plant an altogether different seed—a baby. She longed to bear Richard’s children.

She must have dozed for an hour or so, as when she awoke it was twilight. She’d half expected him to come and wake her with more of his addictive kisses and touches, but the house was eerily quiet. Was he still working? She decided to go and distract her husband with some kisses of her own.

But when she found him, all thoughts of play vanished. He was sitting on a chair, in front of the fire, with his head in his hands. He looked up as she knelt at his feet, his face awash with anguish, which he quickly tried to hide.

“Bad news?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

Richard cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently and quickly. “Sweet, sweet, Madeline.” Then he sighed.

“Tell me. What’s wrong? Something’s wrong, I can feel it.
Tell me.
You’re frightening me.”

“Nothing’s wrong, my sweet. It’s just that something has occurred that is a touch distressing.”

“What, please tell me….”

“Charles Chesterton, Marquess of Wrentham, is dead. He snapped his neck in a hunting accident on the day of our wedding. Sarah’s a widow.”

Dear Richard Craven

It was lovely to see you home for a quick visit before leaving for India again.

You’ll be pleased to know that I have finally mastered the bow. Obviously your training at Easter has made all the difference. I managed to hit the bull’s eye today.

And your weaponry gift has already come in handy. Timothy Chesterton tried to kiss me and while I didn’t shoot him with an arrow, I managed to break free by jabbing an arrow into his leg.

Timothy’s always hated me. Why would he want to kiss me? Men are so silly.

Your Princess,

Madeline

She toppled backward and landed on her bottom, her hand flying to cover an anguished cry.

He didn’t notice. Richard picked up the missive lying on the floor at his feet and crushed it in his fist. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I can’t say I’m sorry.”

Maddy couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
Sarah was widowed
. If Richard hadn’t married her, he’d now be free to wed Sarah, the woman he loved. No wonder he appeared to be in shock.

Guilt gnawed at her and she couldn’t think of anything to say through the pain. Her interfering had done this. She’d caused the scandal and put him in the situation where he had felt obligated to marry her. “I’m so sorry.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Why? It is not your fault, and let’s be honest about it, Sarah will be—well—let’s just say it was not a marriage to her liking. I doubt Wrentham’s death will see her mourn for long.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m sorry for. I’m sorry for trapping you into this marriage. If I hadn’t butted my nose in, you’d still be free to marry Sarah.”

Richard didn’t appear to hear her. He sat staring out the window, deep in thought. No doubt his thoughts matched her words.

The silence echoed in the small room. He must hate her. She’d ruined everything with her meddling. Now it was no longer Sarah stuck in a marriage, it was Richard. Her heart hurt for him. What must he be feeling?

He spoke. “We need to return to London. Lord Wrentham’s funeral will be a large affair. We should be there. You were his neighbor and I... well, there will be talk if we do not attend. There is enough gossip about our marriage as it is. We must show society how happy we are.”

She felt the blood drain to her toes. “I see.” She didn’t need him to say the words. He wanted to be there for Sarah.

He seemed to finally realize she was there, at his feet. He stood and held out his hand and helped her to her feet.

“I’ll send a note to Biggans, my butler, to ensure my house in Mayfair is ready for our arrival tomorrow. Let’s get dressed and pack our belongings, and then go to Hascombe for your trunks, and say our goodbyes to Rufus and Rheda.”

“They’ll likely be heading to London too. Lord Wrentham was in the House of Lords with my brother. They’ll have to pay their respects too.”

Richard nodded and pulled her close, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry, Maddy. Sorry the honeymoon has been cut short. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you somewhere special as soon as the funeral is over.”

“Anywhere I want?”

He nodded and laughed. “I suppose, but knowing you that could be somewhere totally unsuitable, like the wilds of Africa. I’ll not risk something so precious.”

She wanted to say that as long as she was with him, she didn’t care where they went, but shyness held her back. And cowardice too.

This death had changed everything. They might have had a chance if not for the fact Sarah was now a widow.

He gave her a gentle push toward the door and patted her bottom. “Off with you. I’ve some notes to send before we get on our way.”

Richard remained staring for a long time at the door through which Maddy had just departed, his feelings rioting within. He wondered why he wasn’t more upset at the irony of his situation. Sarah was now a widow and they might have married if not for the scandal with Madeline.

However, since his marriage something had changed.

He’d changed.

He wasn’t at all devastated by the position he now found himself in. He wouldn’t change the outcome, even if he could. He suspected his brother was right. He did not really love Sarah; her beauty and then her situation had buffeted him. He wanted to save her from marrying Charles.

He sighed. What of Maddy? His heart sped at the confusion in his soul. She was his best friend. Maddy knew him better than most of his male colleagues because he had shared his thoughts and feelings with her. Men did not share their inner feelings with other men. They had too much pride, and heaven forbid that they show any weakness. And that is what love seemed to be—or so it seemed to the males of the species—a dreadful sickness that made you weak.

But Richard knew he was not weak.

Examining his chaotic feelings, he dampened down the fragile spark of hope, crushing the smoldering ember before it could flare to life. Could he learn to love as deeply as his brother? Was he capable of such deep emotion with a woman, and was Maddy truly ‘the one?’

His past relationships indicated his heart was fickle. He had not been devastated when any of his other relationships had ended. He thought of his brother’s marriage. Anthony would be utterly bereft if something happened to Melissa. He’d gone crazy when she’d been abducted.

However, Anthony certainly hadn’t fallen madly in love with his wife, Melissa, when they’d first met. But Richard had known Maddy since she was a young girl. Surely, if she were his soul mate, he would have known it by now? Or did their friendship distort his feelings for her?

Making love to her had certainly been a revelation. He had originally dreaded the idea of bedding his best friend, desirable as she may be. He thought it would be awkward and embarrassing.

Then, on their wedding day, as she walked down the aisle toward him, joy shining in her eyes, it was as if Gentleman Jack had punched him in the side of the head. He hadn’t seen the blow coming. She was the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen and dread had turned too passionate longing. Desire had burned rampant in his veins throughout the ceremony.

Never in his wildest dreams was he prepared for his body’s response to her beauty. He had bedded plenty of stunning women, all with far more experience than Maddy. Yet everything had been different with her.

Her touch had ignited his soul. Her breathless cries of pleasure had wiped away the memory of any other woman before her. Her yearning for him made him want to give everything of himself, regardless of his own needs.

Adding to that, this new sensation of ferocious possessiveness when he thought of her with anyone else…it scared him. She was
his
; his to keep, to worship, and cherish. He’d protect her with his last breath and he’d never let any other man touch her.

This must be love because he’d never felt possessive about any other woman before, not even Sarah. He’d been angry when she’d married Wrentham, mainly because he knew the type of man Wrentham was. But he’d not been overcome with jealousy. It was guilt. He hadn’t saved her from what he’d perceived to be a lifetime of misery.

He wanted to believe these feelings for Maddy would deepen not disappear, but Anthony had spoken the truth. He didn’t know what true love was. Would these unfamiliar feelings diminish as he shared Maddy’s bed every night? He had a well-deserved reputation for rapidly falling into relationships and then just as quickly falling out of them.

What would happen when the next beautiful woman flirted with him, or offered herself to him?

Blast
! He wiped a hand over his face. He wished he knew if his feelings for Maddy were about him falling in love with her. He needed to keep his feelings carefully guarded until he really knew. He didn’t want to raise Maddy’s hopes if, like in every other relationship, his intense feelings and desire waned as familiarity and routine grew.