Captives' Charade (5 page)

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Authors: Susannah Merrill

BOOK: Captives' Charade
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“So,”Sarahrespondedsmugly,“youare saying that were it not for the fact that my sister has the power to spurn you, you would wish to have her for your own?”

“On the contrary,” Stewart said matter-offactly. “I was speaking of men in general. Not myself. I prefer women who are not afraid to show passion when the setting is right – as when they are in my bed. It matters not what they are like otherwise.” He laughed as he saw bright spots of color reappear on her cheeks, her azure eyes wide with shock. “I see I have offended you, Lady Sarah, but I fear you will have to get used to my veracity. I know of no other way to speak.”

“I have nothing to get used to, Mr. Chamberlain,” Sarah retorted, urging Serena into a trot, “for you will be soon gone and I will never have to listen to your impertinent remarks again.”

Not the least of her anger was caught up in the fact that he was presuming a mutual attraction that she had refused to admit existed. Last night, when they had discussed politics, she had been lulled into thinking that his interest transcended a physical attraction. His seeming lack of attention to her femininity had allowed her own feelings to swell as they had never done before. But now he was complicating everything – and Sarah wanted only to escape.

But Stewart was making that quite di fficult, she realized, as he easily maintained his position next to her. “Then your Father hasn’t told you? I shall be here often, which is why I have letters to post, so my associates in London will know where I can be reached.” Seeing her obvious distress, he added teasingly, “And I thought you would be pleased, for now we will have the opportunity to get to know each other better.”

“I would prefer that we do not. Now that you have revealed your true colors, I find I care little about anything you have to say!” With a toss of her head in the direction of the mansion, she harshly stung Serena’s flanks with the crop. The mare, unused to such brutal treatment from her mistress, reared suddenly, causing Sarah to lose her footing. As the mare took off in a run, Sarah screamed, feeling herself about to fall.

With a sickening thud, she hit the ground, landing on her left side, and then limply coming to rest on her back, her scream ending in a pained moan. Immediately Stewart jumped to the ground beside her, leaving Nubian to chase after the mare.

“Lie still,” he ordered, as she struggled to sit up, pushing his hands away. Frightened by his voice and the force of her fall, she lay back down, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Please go away,” she sobbed. “Do not touch me.”

Ignoring her pleas, Stewart bent close to her and gently probed her left arm with his fingers. “Do not move until I see if anything is broken,” he commanded, his brown eyes following the movements of his hands, his wide mouth set in a tight line.

“Ouch,” she whimpered, as he explored the area beneath her heaving breast. Painfully, her hands flew to his as he began to unbutton her riding jacket. “What are you doing?” she pleaded, her voice shaking. He pushed her hands away firmly and continued.

“I cannot tell anything through your coat,” he said, and having opened it, slid his left hand underneath the jacket. Forced to suffer while his long fingers carefully moved over each rib, the back of his hand grazing her breast, Sarah screamed inwardly as the tears fell from her cheeks toward her ringing ears.

She thought he would never finish, but his hands finally quieted as he said in a low voice, more to himself than to her, “I think you are only bruised.

“May I please get up?” she whispered tightly, her eyes pinched shut.

“You took quite a spill, Sarah, but I think you are all right, save for some bad bruising,” he said kindly, pulling her by the shoulders to a sitting position before removing a kerchief from his coat pocket. “Just sit here for a moment and give yourself a chance to catch your breath.”

Despite her pain and humiliation, Sarah could not help noticing that Stewart’s large body was suddenly surrounding hers. His long leg was bent close behind her as he knelt to support himself while he wiped her tears. His strong hand cradled her head and neck and his voice seemed to vibrate in her brain as he spoke softly into her ear, his face close to hers.

“It looks like we are going to have to walk back to the house, since our mounts have fled. It is rather far. Do you think you will be able to manage?” he asked gently.

“I-I think so,” she sni ffed, taking the kerchief from him and wiping her delicately-tipped nose. “I haven’t much choice.”

“Icouldcarryyou,”heo ffered,loweringhis lean form opposite her in such a way that their hips touched intimately. An involuntary shiver raced through her and she moved away slightly.

Herred-rimmedeyeslookedupfromabove the snowy white cloth and into his deep brown ones. In a voice muffled by the cloth, she replied, “Have you not put me through enough of your pawing for one day?”

Undaunted, Stewart rested one arm on his bent leg and placed his hand on the grass next to her side. Looking deeply into her eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Sarah, what are you so afraid of? You are a grown woman and I am a man. What is so terrible about the attraction we have for each other?” As he spoke, his right hand came up to softly brush a wisp of hair from her forehead.

Sarahjerkedherheadawayandlookedat the grassy green meadow without seeing. “You presume too much when you say we are attracted to one another,” she said, her words sounding cold to her own ears. “For I do not like you at all.”“Were you not so innocent, you would realize that humans are never more irrational than when their feelings are compelled to surface. Whether you think you like me or not is of no consequence, though in truth I think you do. At least you seemed so last night.” He ignored her scathing look. “The fact remains, however, that we are attracted to each other. You feel it. And so do I.”

Before she could form a protest, his warm lips had found hers in a kiss as sweet as it was unnerving. Even as she meant to push him away, something deep within her was finding an answer to a question she realized she had been asking herself since he entered the ballroom so splendidly the night before. He was more wonderful to kiss than he was to look upon – and that seemed hard to believe.

Even harder to believe was the fact that she was letting him enjoy the tenderness of her own lips when but a moment ago she had been screaming at him to leave her alone. Disgusted by her weakness, she ignored the pain it caused to move so abruptly, and flung herself away. Her chest heaving from her efforts, she swore, “Damn you for thinking you can kiss me whenever you please. Especially when you made me fall off my horse!”

Shaking his head good-naturedly, Stewart replied, “I fear your temper was the cause of your fall, but if you wish me to take the blame, then please allow me to express my apologies,” he said and swiftly bent his head to claim her blossoming lips again. Too afflicted to struggle and too weak from his last assault, Sarah found herself going limp in Stewart’s caressing grasp. Her angry moans only seemed to encourage him further and she had a feeling of panic when a strange tingling sensation began to course through her.

To her amazement, for she had never been so boldly kissed in her life, Stewart’s eager tongue parted her slackening lips, sliding with teasing abandon along her teeth until she gasped. Pressing his advantage, he met her small, pointed tongue with his own, engaging her in sensuous play until she was swept up securely in the passions he had aroused. Amazed by her own craving for the intimate sensations caused when his body pressed her down onto the sweet-smelling meadow, she found herself ignoring the weakening voice that warned her against this taste of heaven.

Her jacket still unbuttoned, Sarah realized that Stewart’s warm hands were touching her through the sheer muslin of her blouse. And even though he seemed to move without thinking, he was very carefully avoiding her bruised ribs. Instead, he intimately cupped her breast, managing to imprison her arms lest she try to resist him.

A cobweb of conflicting emotions sailed through Sarah’s fevered mind as Stewart’s thumb slowly brushed back and forth across her nipple. Her loins experienced a sweet ache and her ragged breath quickened as his tongue commanded hers to respond. Unobtrusively, Stewart turned her to her side, his right hand trailing down to the small of her back until he firmly pushed her hips toward him so that she could feel that she, too, was having an effect on him.

Shocked by the contact she had never felt before, Sarah moaned again but it only caused him to move slowly back and forth against her. With great effort, she twisted her mouth away from his lips, but before she could speak, Stewart was whispering in her ear, his voice surprising her with its breathlessness. “Sarah ... relax. This is all right,” he murmured. “So right.”

Listening to his soothing voice as her head was caught in the hollow of his throat, and feeling the body her nearness had aroused, Sarah recognized a fleeting urge to give in to her inflamed senses. But it was Stewart who began to pull away.

With bittersweet longing, his pliant hands slowly moved from her body to her shoulders. Drawing her back and turning her bewildered face to look up into his, he sighed and smiled ruefully. “Sarah ....” he breathed, his thumb stroking her high cheekbone, flushed from his kiss. “I think I would give anything for this moment to continue. But as taken as I am with your beauty, I cannot in good conscience make love to a woman who has just fallen from a horse. Nor can I do it in an open meadow with the imminent threat of intrusion upon us.” Reluctantly, his hand drifted from her face as he gave her shoulder a light squeeze, a trace of resignation in his earthy brown eyes. Rising, he picked up the handkerchief she had dropped earlier and returned it to his pocket.

After the shock of his sudden leave-taking, Sarah was quick to regain her composure. Seeking to minimize her own unprecedented surrender, she brushed away his aid and struggled to rise on her own. “Do not touch me! How dare you presume that I would ever let you make love to me – here or anywhere! You are no gentleman, Mr. Chamberlain,” she sniffed as she briskly buttoned her riding coat. “I am quite sure my father would be interested to know about your penchant for mauling innocent females, and I intend to tell him!”

Chuckling at her tirade, Stewart countered her threat with a stinging insult that pierced her more deeply than she would ever admit. “I doubt that you will tell him anything,” he mused. “For he might react with unbridled enthusiasm over the possibility that his spinster daughter may have finally attracted a suitor. He must wonder by now if she is really as cold as she appears.” With a smirk that she itched to wipe away with the back of her hand, he added, “I will be glad to vouch that there is still some cause for hope.”

Though he o ffered his arm as she began to stalk past him, Sarah refused to take it, gritting her teeth to stave off the shooting pain in her bruised and battered torso. Tears of anger and hurt welled in her deep blue eyes, as his insult rang in her ears.

What stung her so was not that Stewart had hit the mark about her father’s feelings. Though never spoken, she knew he was concerned about her disinterest in attracting a mate. What hurt her more was that the first man to give words to the speculation about her frigidity was the one who had penetrated it.

Having been the first to bring her to the brink of passion, it was a terrible blow to learn that Stewart Chamberlain was, unlike his lovemaking suggested, in actuality a cruel, insensitive man. Had she not stormed ahead of him, however, she might have questioned her own assessment had she seen the curiously distraught look that flashed across his handsome face.
CHAPTER 5

As a limping Sarah and Stewart came into view of the cobbled drive in front of the imposing stone estate, Silas came running to meet them, his wrinkled face revealing pure anguish.

“Saints in heaven! Are you all right?” he cried, laboring to force his wizened body forward. “When the horses came into the yard, I nearly collapsed in fear for your safety.” He stopped in front of them, a horrified look on his leathery face. “Lady Sarah, you’re hurt!” he cried, as he saw her clutching her left side.

“I-I am perfectly fine,” Sarah returned, her face straining to hide her pain. “It was just a little fall – and Serena is not to blame,” added quickly, knowing that Silas took full responsibility for the actions of the horses in his care.

“I was about to alert the Duke,” Silas replied in agitation. “Oh mum, are you sure you can walk? You may have broken something.”

Stewart, towering over them, cut in as his arm slipped around Sarah’s waist. “Nothing is broken, Silas. She suffered only bruises, but I think she should not try to walk further.” And with that, he gently placed his other arm behind Sarah’s knees and pulled her up against his broad chest.

Sarah, stunned by his sudden move but unwilling to show her discomfiture in front of Silas, placed her arm gingerly around Stewart’s neck even as she protested weakly. “I really believe I shall be all right.”

“Bring her inside,” Silas urged, turning to lead the way. “Farnam will send for the doctor.”

Feeling Sarah sti ffen as she began to protest, Stewart called to the retreating figure. “Silas, I am quite sure she is going to be fine. But perhaps you could ask one of the maids to draw a very hot bath. That, I think,” he said, dropping his eyes to look into her blue ones, “will relieve her aches.”

As Silas ran o ff to do as he was bid, Sarah frowned and looked away from his mocking brown gaze. “I can walk you know,” she snapped, all too aware of his strong but gentle arms enfolding her.

“It is no trouble,” he replied gallantly, a deep chuckle rumbling in his huge chest. “As a matter of fact, I find holding you in my arms much to my liking.”

“Well satisfy yourself then,” Sarah snapped bitterly, as they approached the stone steps leading to the great front entrance, “for it will be the last time you will find me in your grasp!”

Before he could reply, the door swung open and they were confronted by the worried faces of the Duke and Duchess. “Sarah!” her mother gasped. “My poor darling. We were just told. I could not believe you fell from Serena. You are such an excellent rider. Are you all right?”

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