Daughter of Darkness (27 page)

‘I agree. Her company does not bore a man.’ Gerard chuckled, prepared to indulge in a small amount of banter at her expense. ‘I’d not thought to marry so unconventional a woman.’

Blushing furiously, she turned her face into his sleeve.

James gave a satisfied chuckle now he’d bested his erstwhile pupil. ‘In return for your hospitality I’ll give your brother fencing tuition of the caliber he will not find outside the academy in Paris.’

Gerard remembered James was reputed to be one of the best swordsmen in England, and certainly the finest shot. ‘I could do with a little practice myself,’

‘I’ll instruct you in the use of a pistol, also.’ James’ voice was dry in the extreme. ‘But first I’ll discover if you’re worth the effort.’ He grinned at the proud flare of his host’s nostrils and the narrowing of his eyes. ‘A contest, Sir. You and your brother against myself and… ‘ His eyes flicked to Willow. ‘A partner of my choice.’

Coaxed from its hiding place, Willow’s face was as alert as a cat who’d just seen a mouse emerge from the wainscot. He had no need to ask who Langland’s partner would be. He could feel the excitement quivering through her body.

‘Allow me to place a wager on my sons.’ Catching the end of the conversation, Ambrose smiled as he was escorted into the room on the arm of John Grey. ‘Twenty guineas.’

‘You’ll lose it, My Lord,’ James advised the earl after introductions had been affected. ‘My partner can out-shoot any man alive, with a couple of exceptions. I include myself in those.’

‘Then you should not be afraid to take me up on it.’ Ambrose’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think, you’re full of conceit, Sir.’

James shrugged off the barb. ‘Undeniably. And I can offer only my note.’

‘It’s not my usual policy to accept notes.’

‘Then I cannot accept your wager.’ James bowed. ‘You see before you an impoverished man, recently released from debtors prison.’

‘I’ll stake the wager,’ Willow offered, eager to provide James with the opportunity to win a purse for himself in the most acceptable way possible. She blushed when every pair of eyes turned her way.’

‘You?’ The earl’s eyes were displeased. ‘You’d lay money against your husband?’

‘And why should she not, father?’ Gerard’s thumb stroked reassuringly against her waist. ‘If I’m not mistaken, she’ll be partnering James.’

The earl looked shaken. ‘She’s but a woman. You must forbid it, Gerard.’ When her body became rigid beside him, he experienced a sudden empathy with her. The marquis had paid scant thought to Willow when he’d banished her with James Langland to Ireland. It was only luck that the man had been of honorable intent and morals. It was apparent James had taken his avocation seriously under duress. He’d sought to give value for the notes once held by the marquis, and had been wrongfully imprisoned for his pains. He could not blame the man for endowing her with male skills. He’d have known no other way.

‘I see no harm in it.’ He grinned when her breath left her body in a rush. ‘Jeffrey tells me she’s a passable shot. I’m curious to measure her ability for myself. It’s not as if it’s a public shooting contest.’

When the earl still looked dubious Willow crossed to his side. ‘I will not enter this contest if it upsets you, dearest father.’ Her voice was sincere despite the disappointment in it. ‘James was as much a father to me when I was growing up, as you are now. He’d not encourage me in anything to bring shame upon you.’ Tears rendered her eyes luminous and emphasised their sadness. ‘I’ll not be able to bear it if you look upon me with censure.’

‘Nothing you do shames me, daughter.’

She was adept at gaining her own way, Gerard thought, watching his father’s hand close around hers. A small invisible knife twisted in his heart as he recalled his baby sister. If his suspicions were correct, the child would have been half-sister to both himself and Willow.

Gall twisted his gut and the brightness fled from the day. He was not the pacifist his father was. Remembering the oath he’d been obliged to swear, he experienced a flare of rebellion against the restraint. Lynchcross had a lot to answer for. One day, he’d bring him to account for his crimes against the Lytton’s, and to hell with who’d started the feuding!

He promptly forgot about it when Jeffrey came into the room. His brother took one look at the food, stared at James for a moment with a puzzled expression then turned an ashen countenance upon the company to state unnecessarily. ‘I have an uncommonly foul headache this morning. I think I’ll return to my bed.’

Gerard winked at James, who was tucking heartily into a platter of bread and butter, fried ham, and boiled eggs. ‘Will you ride with me this morning?’ he enquired, sliding into the seat beside him. ‘There are a couple of problems needing my attention.’

‘Delighted, dear sir,’ said James with a grin.

Gerard had taken such a liking to the man, he surprised even himself, after such a short acquaintance. ‘I would prefer it if you addressed me as Gerard,’ he said, and basked in the glow of Willow’s approval.

The shooting contest had been scheduled for ten days hence, a few days after Kitty and Brian’s wedding.

To Willow’s surprise, Gerard offered no objection to her attending the wedding ceremony, but insisted on accompanying her, advising they’d stay only long enough to toast the couple’s health and extend their best wishes.

‘Arrangements for the nuptials are well in hand,’ Mrs. Breton informed her when she waylaid her in the hall the day before the event. ‘The celebration will go ahead with as little disruption to the household as possible.’

The door to the study opened. Gerard stuck his head through the gap and caught her eye. ‘When you’ve a moment to spare, Willow.’

‘My business with Mrs. Breton is finished.’ They exchanged a smile as housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and moved towards the kitchen.

She experienced elation when Gerard’s long legs covered the distance between them. His black coat and breeches gave him a dangerous appearance as he towered over her. Grinning, he stooped to steal a kiss. ‘Walk around the lake with me.’

Guessing her indisposition must be nearing its end, he’d decided to step up his campaign. He twisted the small silky tendril of hair escaping from under her cap around his finger. ‘It’s not often I can enjoy your company alone.’ He abandoned the curl and stroked along the creamy skin of her jawbone until he found the niche under her chin. She almost purred like a kitten when he tipped her chin up and kissed her again. ‘This morning I saw some ducklings amongst the reeds. We can sit in the pavilion and see if they venture out.’

Obviously enchanted by the prospect, she spread her fan and gazed at him over it. Her eyes were slumberous, her voice low and husky. ‘I’d very much like to see them.’

And would very much like to tease me in the pavilion with your kisses, no doubt.
A pulse in his temple leaped into life at the promise in her eyes. She was too quick a study, and had fast learned the power of her femininity. His grey eyes hid his thoughts. This wife of his was driving him to distraction. His courtship of her had turned into a self-inflicted punishment. He could think of little else but the act that would make her truly his. His mind was filled with her, every breath he took was perfumed with her being. He lusted for her like a starving man for sustenance. When she took his arm, his skin was alive and singing to her touch, as though there were no layer of cloth between.

The air was alive with the promise of spring as they skirted the lake. Blue and yellow irises flirted at the edge of the water, spiders spun delicate lace to sparkled invitingly amongst the reeds. Clumps of daffodils bobbed and curtsied to each other amongst the poppies, like courtiers clothed in green and gold. The breeze had an April softness and a suggestion of rain over the next hill. As soon as the thought left his mind, the lake became circled by ripples that widened one into the other.

She started to laugh when he took her hand and urged her to sprint across the bridge towards the pavilion. ‘La, Sir!’ she cried, shaking the raindrops from the cornflower blue ruffles of her petticoat and turning laughter-bright eyes towards him. ‘You were in a devil of a hurry to get me here.’

He drew her impatiently into his arms. ‘If you’d sooner be drenched than kissed I’ll gladly throw you into the lake.’

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the expression in her husband’s eyes. Beneath the laughter was a raw, hungry desire that set her heart beating like an erratic drum. It was daunting to think she evoked such emotion in a man. What was up to then a pleasant game, no longer seemed quite so funny. ‘I’d sooner be thrown in the lake than be the cause of the suffering I see in your eyes.’ She continued to speak, despite the glimmer of a smile he gave. ‘I truly wish to be a good wife in my duty to you. If I seem to tease, it’s because I have no instruction in the propriety of relationships between husband and wife.’ She bowed her head in demure obedience. ‘It’s your right to chastise me if you wish.’

‘And what is your preference in the matter?’ The time was past to play such games, and his voice had an edge of sobriety to it. ‘I’ve seen marriages a plenty where the wife is martyr to her duty. Is that the chastisement you’d have me inflict on you?’

‘Indeed, no.’ Her chin tilted in determination at the thought. ‘I do not wish for that. Indeed… I wish I’d not raised the matter.’ Out of her depth, she sought desperately for words to help her from the trap she’d set for herself. ‘You’re not the type of man to treat a woman with contempt.’

‘I’m a man like any other.’ Tipping up her chin, he gazed into her eyes and smiled. ‘The fact that you tease, leads me to believe you’re as eager as I for our union.’

‘I have feelings that I do not yet understand.’ She could not tear her eyes away from his, and the breathless anticipation in her voice was all to apparent to her. ‘Is that wrong?’

When she would have hung her head again, he prevented her. A tiny narrowing of his eyes made her head spin. Then, when a tender smile creased the corners of his mouth, she was attacked by a profusion of blushes.

Drawing her down upon a wooden bench he took her hand and traced along the sensitive creases of her palm. ‘Such feelings are natural when a man and woman are each attracted to the other. The eventual outcome is the ecstasy they can experience together. Those feelings are born of the need to procreate, as nature intended.’

Her lips found his and she whispered against them. ‘I’d have us experience that ecstasy together soon.’

Sweet Jesus!
His tongue flickered into her mouth and tasted of its sweetness before he set her from him. ‘You seek to push me beyond endurance.’ His eyes reflected the vulnerability of his position. ‘Such familiarity must be reserved for the privacy of the boudoir from now on. You will inform me when your indisposition is resolved.’

‘You’re incredibly prudish at times.’ Rising to her feet she walked to the water’s edge. Her face was impish with laughter when she slanted him a glance over her shoulder. ‘Perhaps I’ll forget to inform you.’ Such consternation came into his face that she couldn’t help but giggle. ‘What if my feelings desert me altogether?’

He gazed threateningly at her when she giggled again, then said with a tightly controlled grin. ‘Perhaps I’ll beat you, after all. Today seems a good day for it.’

Picking up her skirts, she fled when he made a threatening move towards her. It didn’t take him long to catch her up. His hands spanned her waist and she was effortlessly lifted off her feet and twirled around until she was breathless with laughter.

‘You, madam, deserved to be punished.’ His eyes darkened with passion as he slid her down his body and set her on her feet. Softly, he informed her. ‘One day I’ll bind you to the bed with silken cords, and you’ll beg for release before I’m through with you.’

She shivered at the silky possessiveness of his voice, but it was a shiver of rapture. Her body responded most favorably to the threat, informing her it was impatient to experience this journey into the unknown.

‘Is that a promise, husband?’ she murmured, her eyes flirting deliciously with his.

‘Most definitely.’ Well pleased with her response, he gently captured her mouth and sealed the promise with a kiss.

Kitty and Brian’s wedding was solemnised by the catholic priest in an arbor decorated with almond blossoms.

Willow had not seen Kitty since she’d been dismissed as her maid, and her eyes pricked with unshed tears when she studiously avoided her eyes. She was polite when Willow offered her congratulations after the ceremony, and dropped her a curtsy. Their relationship had irrevocably changed and she’d never been more aware of the gulf between mistress and servant.

She was quiet when she left on Gerard’s arm, realizing something of her childhood had died. She experienced a few moments of insecurity, then put it behind her as she gazed at the house she’d grown to love. Her future had never been clearer to her. Her destiny was to live her life within its walls, warm the bed of the man who was her husband and bear his children. She would grow old and die here. Her portrait and Gerard’s would join the others in the gallery, and be forgotten in time. The first son they produced from their union, and all the Lytton first born sons who followed after, would perpetuate the process. Life was short when measured in portraits, so she’d better get on with it.

‘Gerard,’ she asked? ‘Where are the family records kept?’

‘In the library.’ He slanted her a questioning glance. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I thought I might like to learn a little about your ancestors.’ Spreading her fan to hide her nervousness, she gazed at him, her eyes seductively innocent. ‘I do not wish to appear ignorant when our children ask about them.’

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth when he realized she was being delicate. ‘You’re no longer indisposed?’

‘No.’ Her voice was softly shy and a faint pink tint dawned on the creamy skin above the spread of the fan. ‘Gerard… ?’ There was a tiny pleading note in her voice. ‘I’m not as bold as appeared yesterday. I cannot be other than apprehensive.’

‘Your apprehension will be short-lived,’ he promised, captivated by her guilelessness. ‘My intention is to make your initiation a delight for you.’ Brushing her fan aside he gently kissed her, then unwittingly revealed his eagerness for the consummation by murmuring. ‘If you’d care to accompany me to my chamber, I have a gift for you.’