Andrea Kane (31 page)

Grey gave him a sardonic smile. “I haven’t been at your palatial home, Your Grace.”

Braden’s eyes narrowed with anger at the blatant lie. “What do you know of Kassie’s nightmares?”

For an instant terror dilated Robert’s pupils, then disappeared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The hell you don’t,
Braden thought, fury tightening his chest. “Kassie’s nightmares. The horrible dreams she keeps having. What do you know of them?”

Robert shook himself free, straightening his clothing with shaking hands. “I don’t recall Kassandra’s mentioning any nightmares, Sheffield. Could it be that marriage to you does not agree with her after all?”

With a will of its own Braden’s fist connected with Robert’s jaw. The crack resounded throughout the room, and Robert jerked backwards, then sank slowly to the floor. All the bravado was gone from his eyes now, replaced by pain and a fresh surge of fear.

“Stay the hell away from her, Grey.” Braden’s tone was lethal. “The next time will be the last.”

Braden was in a foul mood when he arrived back at Sherburgh. His head was throbbing from the combined stress of the sleepless night spent searching for Kassie and the ugly confrontation he had just had with her father.

Robert was lying.

That much was certain in his mind. What he was unsure of was to what degree, and for what purpose? About the nightmares Braden knew Robert lied, for Kassie herself had told him that whenever she spoke of her bad dreams to her father he had dismissed them as the result of an overly vivid imagination. Not to mention the stark terror Braden had seen in Robert’s eyes just before he had denied knowledge of Kassie’s dreams. No, he was lying … lying and afraid.

Braden made his way up the stairs, feeling no closer to the truth than when he had left. What was Grey afraid of? And how did Kassie fit into those fears? Had he done something that he thought Kassie might know about? A chill went up Braden’s spine. And if so, what did Grey plan to do about it? Was he coming to Sherburgh just to keep an eye on his daughter, or did he plan something more? No, Braden denied to himself. If Robert planned to harm Kassie, why hadn’t he done it while she lived unprotected in his home? Because, Braden’s mind argued back, Robert had been able to observe Kassie every minute then. She had been alone, with no one to talk to, no one to make sense of her fears. Until now.

Braden’s uneasiness mounted. Grey was irrational, barely coherent most of the time. That made him unstable—and dangerous. And, if he had found a way to steal into Sherburgh unseen …

Racing down the hall, Braden flung open Kassie’s bedchamber, surveying the empty bed with haunted eyes and a pounding heart. Where was she? He had left her sleeping, had been advised by Margaret that she was still abed, but there was no sign of Kassie anywhere.

His room. The answer clamored its way into his frantic mind. He had left her sleeping in
his
bed.

He strode through her deserted bedchamber to the connecting door and threw it open.

The sight of Kassie blissfully asleep in his bed made Braden sag against the wall with relief. She looked like an angel upon his pillow, her long, dark lashes lying like silken fans upon her cheeks, her still-tousled hair spread out like a black satin cloak over her bare shoulders and back. Braden walked quietly to the bedside, drinking in her innocent beauty, filling his senses with Kassie until there was no room inside him for the ugliness of the past hours.

Slowly he shrugged out of his clothes, wanting nothing more than to lie down beside her, hold her in his arms, and sleep. Naked, he slid into the bed, careful not to awaken her with his movements.

But Kassie felt his presence and stirred.

She opened her eyes and blinked groggily. Then awareness spread across her face like rays of sunshine. “Braden.” Her voice was husky with sleep, and Braden felt a wave of tenderness engulf his heart.

“I’m here.” He drew her against him, feeling her curl trustingly into his arms and knowing a sense of protectiveness so fierce that it hurt.

“Did you see him?”

“Yes … sh-h-h, not now,” he murmured softly, more for his own sake than for hers. He didn’t want Robert’s presence to intrude into the perfect peace he felt right then, with Kassie in his arms.

Kassie drew back, searched his eyes, then nodded. “All right,” she whispered back, her innate understanding of Braden advising her to comply.

Braden gazed down at her, seeing the unconditional acceptance in her eyes, and all thoughts of rest vanished in a rush of need. Unexpected, renewed desire exploded through his body and, though he could explain it no more than he could control it, the need to be inside her was suddenly more than the need to breathe.

“Kassie …” He was hardly aware that he spoke her name as he covered her body with his, capturing her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss of wordless possession. He felt her soft breasts beneath the hard wall of his chest, felt her arms go about his back and knew that this time there could be no waiting. They simply had to be one.

“Love,” he rasped, moving against her, “let me in … now.” He was stunned by his own urgency.

Kassie was not. She understood better than Braden what he needed, and she gave it to him in the only way he could accept it, opening herself to his demand.

He entered her with a savage groan, taking her with a wildness that made them both cry out. Again and again their bodies merged until, with a hoarse shout, Braden let go, giving himself to his wife, pouring himself into her and losing himself inside her love.

Kassie felt the surge of wet warmth flow through her, and she closed her eyes, clinging to her husband’s powerful body as her own release came in hard, sharp spasms of pleasure. She heard Braden call her name, felt him lift her to him, heightening the sensations and drawing them out. And then she felt the utter bliss of his sated body heavily pressing hers deeper into the soft bed.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was raw, shaken.

“No,” she whispered, touching her lips to his wet shoulder. “I love you. And you didn’t hurt me.”

Braden closed his eyes, his fists clenched in the pillow beside her head.
And no one else will hurt you either,
he promised her silently, breathing in the scent of their union.
No one.

H
OURS LATER IT WAS
Kassie’s strangled cry that brought Braden out of a deep, troubled sleep. He was instantly awake, reaching for his shuddering wife, who was still in the throes of her nightmare.

“Kassie.” He shook her firmly, familiar now with the symptoms. “Wake up, sweetheart.” No response. “Kassie!” Braden’s guts knotted with fear. “Come back to me,
ma petite.
Wake up!”

Come back to me. Please. Come back to me.

The plea echoed again and again through Kassie’s head, a harsh masculine urging that was both litany and prayer, a wisp of memory extinguished by a stronger force of self-preservation.

Was that Braden calling to her?

Kassie fought her way out of the emotional abyss, her heart hammering against her ribs, sweat trickling down her back. She clung to the sound of Braden’s voice, reaching toward it as a flower does to the sunlight that offers it the promise of life.

He knew the moment she came awake, felt the rigidity leave her damp body. Slowly he drew her against him, whispering words of comfort into her hair and stroking her back in gentle circling motions. “I’m here, love. I’m right here,” he assured her softly.

“I thought the dream had gone … that it was over,” she whispered.

Braden knew better. But all he said was “I know, sweetheart. It’s probably just the result of the past days’ turmoil.” He hesitated. “Is it unchanged?”

“Yes.”

“You. The beast. The fall. Nothing else?”

She groped for a memory that was gone. “Nothing else.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring off into the late afternoon shadows, reflecting on the coincidence of the nightmare’s reoccurrence and Robert’s reappearance in Kassie’s life—a coincidence that Braden was certain was no coincidence at all.

“Braden?”

Her small, frightened voice brought him back. “Yes, love?”

“Do you think that I’m insane?”

He started, drawing back to stare down at her. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A perfectly logical one. I continue to have inexplicable, bizarre nightmares, despite the fact that I have never been happier in my life. What other explanation could there be?”

“You are not insane,” he denied hotly, cupping her face between his hands. “And I never want to hear you say that again. Is that understood?”

Relief flowed through her, and Kassie gave her husband a small, shaky smile. “Yes, Braden, I understand.”

Unconvinced, Braden continued to search her eyes, his jaw clenched. “I mean it, Kassandra. Don’t ever refer to yourself as insane again. I won’t have it.”

Determined to regain her composure, Kassie stroked her husband’s angry face with trembling fingertips. “This is the second order you’ve issued to me today,” she reminded him with forced lightness. “I am discovering that you really are quite overbearing, Your Grace.”

Braden understood Kassie’s attempt to diffuse her fear and he relaxed, only too happy to oblige. He gave her a lazy grin, anxious to take her mind off her dream. “Overbearing. Am I really?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes, you are. Why, it’s no wonder your servants are becoming disgruntled with you.”

His forefinger stroked the bridge of her slender nose. “To the contrary, my lovely wife,” he replied, growing serious. “My servants are not becoming disgruntled with me. They are becoming enchanted with their new duchess.” His voice became husky. “As am I.”

Kassie felt her heart soar. Enchanted. He was becoming enchanted with her. It was the closest Braden had ever come to admitting that he loved her. Perhaps enchantment was not quite love, but it sounded perfectly glorious just the same.

Kassie thought back to all Charles had said about Braden, to what he had implied.
Soon, my husband,
she promised silently.
Soon you’ll be able to say the words.

“Would you like to go back to sleep now?” he asked tenderly, unaware of her thoughts.

Kassie tensed. “No. I would much rather get up. Please, Braden.”

He kissed her forehead gently. “Fine. Besides, it is way past our mealtime. My stomach is beginning to protest.”

Kassie scrambled gratefully to her feet, frowning as she gathered up the fragments of her ruined dressing gown. Braden chuckled at her attempts to piece it together. “I’ll buy you another. Several others, in fact. One can never tell when I might become … impatient again.” He rose from the bed, all sleek muscle and towering height. “I’ll send Margaret to your room to help you dress. In the meantime I shall charm Cook into preparing us a very late light luncheon. How does that sound?”

Kassie gave him a dazzling smile. “It sounds wonderful. Thank you.” She made one last futile attempt to wrap the satin gown around her and then gave up gracefully, providing Braden with a melting view of her luscious body as she left the chamber through its connecting door. Enchanted, he thought to himself. Yes, he certainly was that. And worried as well. He had to get to the heart of these nightmares. Soon. Before Kassie got hurt.

“I don’t like the dark circles beneath your eyes, Your Grace.” Margaret stood behind Kassie, shaking her head as she regarded her mistress’s pale countenance.

“I’m really fine, Margaret,” Kassie assured the older woman, smoothing her chemise along the contours of her body.

The motion only served to draw Margaret’s attention to the duchess’s too-slender curves, causing her own frown to deepen. “And you’re far too thin. Why, before long you’re going to disappear into nothing at all!”

“That’s why I’m going to join Braden for luncheon,” Kassie replied brightly, hoping to ease her beloved maid’s worry.

Margaret made a clucking sound and folded her arms across her chest. “One meal won’t make a difference, Your Grace. As it is, many of your gowns have grown too large for you.”

Kassie turned, her brows knit. “Did you have the chance to alter any of them, Margaret?” she asked anxiously. “If not, I must do one immediately. Else I have nothing suitable to wear.”

“Of course I have, love.” Margaret hurried to the door. “Not to worry; I’ve fixed four or five of them. I’ll bring them in at once.”

Kassie sagged with relief. “Thank you, Margaret. What would I ever do without you?” Alone in the room, she allowed her thoughts to return to her unfinished conversation with Braden. The one that involved his encounter with her father. She had been sidetracked, first by Braden’s urgent passion, then by the horror of her nightmare, and last by the wonder of Braden’s near declaration of love. But now she realized that they had never spoken of Robert and what had transpired today at the cottage.

She sank down on her bed, idly fingering the lacy edges of her chemise. What could have happened? Was her father the person who had been watching her this morning? And if so, had he told Braden the truth? She squeezed her eyes shut, the fear closing in on her again. Was there no end to this feeling of foreboding? At a time when she should be overflowing with happiness, when she was so close to finally reaching Braden’s heart, why must a veil of darkness overshadow the splendor of her joy?

The door to her bedchamber opened and Kassie struggled to bring herself under control. She wouldn’t allow Margaret to see her worry; the poor woman was already beside herself. With this thought Kassie swallowed deeply, fixed a bright smile upon her face, and opened her eyes.

A startled Cyril Sheffield met her gaze.

Kassie jumped to her feet in astonishment, instinctively covering herself with her arms. “Cyril? What on earth are you doing in here?”

He stared intently at her, silently taking in her state of undress, then cleared his throat roughly. “I came to see if you were well. I knocked … there was no reply. I had no idea …” He broke off, his dark gaze still fixed on her near nakedness.

Kassie felt herself grow warm, her cheeks stained with color. Here she was, clad in nothing more than a flimsy undergarment, alone in her bedchamber with Braden’s uncle. “I am fine,” she managed in as normal a tone as she could muster given the circumstances.