Devil's Desire (11 page)

"Well, it will not work, for Sir Jason's plan has gone awry," Elysia stated firmly, "for I have no relatives who would either demand satisfaction or would force you into marrying me to save my good name. My God, aren't you married?"

"My dear Miss Demarice," Lord Trevegne said softly, leaning over her, forcing Elysia back onto the pillows, and placing a hand on each side of her shoulders, "no one forces me to do anything that I do not wish to do. I am answerable to no one, do you understand? And—I am not married."

"Yes, I understand, but wouldn't Sit Jason also be aware of this? If you are so impregnable, then why are you so upset by Sir Jason's treachery. He can not harm you-his plan has failed."

"No one makes a fool of a Trevegne!” the Marquis said angrily, staring down into Elysia's face as if pondering something of interest to him.

"Then it is just your injured pride that causes your indignation," she said scornfully, gasping in pain as his hard fingers closed over her soft shoulders in warning.

"Well, I cannot be forced into a marriage either! You, M'Lord, are not the only one who will not be blackmailed into something distasteful to him."

"Oh, you would find marriage to me distasteful would you?"

"Yes, but then since the fact of a marriage between us does not arise, it does not signify how I feel."

"Hmmm," he replied noncommittally. "Surely there is someone who cares about your welfare?"

"No, Lord Trevegne, I have no one who would care if I were found drowned, and floating in the Thames; merely an inconvenience for having to send to London to fetch my body," Elysia spoke bitterly. "You said I have been used as a pawn, well I can tell you, M'Lord, that it is not the first time I have been callously taken advantage of to further a revenge. My aunt would have me married off to a fat, lecherous, old squire against my will, because of some grievance against my parents, which she has nurtured for over thirty years."

"This aunt of yours, surely she would be upset to hear of this occurrence?" he asked curiously.

"My aunt would be overjoyed to know of my predicament, and furthermore loathes the very sight of me. And if you would allow me to get up, I will leave the room and not further complicate your life, M'Lord," Elysia told him, trying to push him away, but he resisted her efforts easily, and continued to stare at her, a gleam of amusement entering his eyes.

"I am afraid that I cannot allow you to leave, Miss Demarice," he said decidedly, having come to a decision.

Elysia looked at him wide-eyed. "You can't keep me here against my will!" she cried, fearful he might be planning to resume where he had left off before being so timely interrupted by Sir Jason and friend.

"Are you daring me, Miss Demarice?" Lord Trevegne asked her meaningfully, pressing down on her shoulders with his hard fingers.

"You know very well that I don't have half your strength; it would be foolhardy of me to try. But I fail to see any reason for you to keep me here. The damage is done, and as a gentleman, I know you won't . . . " Elysia paused in embarrassment, trying to select her words carefully.

"I won't continue to make love to you—no matter how enjoyable it was—if that is what you wanted me to say?" He looked amused at her confusion, his lip curling slightly. "Did you run away from home, Elysia?" he asked, giving her a slight shake as he watched the mutinous look on her face, compelling her to look into his eyes. "Is that why you are traveling without a maid, or proper chaperone? And without an excess of baggage? Traveling light, I believe you said."
 

"Yes, I was," Elysia told him honestly, defiance in her voice, "it was no longer possible for me to live with my aunt. I had to leave. She was quite insane, I believe," she whispered brokenly, thinking of her aunt's contorted features as she had raged at her in fury.

"Then you have no home—no place to go?"

"No, I have no home, but I am going to London."

"What were you planning to do in London? Seek employment?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes, I shall look for a position as a governess, or possibly as a companion."

"You won't, you know," Lord Trevegne stated baldly. "You are going to marry me."

Elysia felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. She looked at him as if he were crazed. "But that is absurd!” she cried. "You have just told me that no one could force you into marriage, and I don't want to marry you anyway."

"No one is forcing me into marriage," Lord Trevegne answered silkily. "I have been thinking of acquiring a wife, and you happen to be here, and available. I am merely taking advantage of the situation. You also have several points in your favor, the most inviting being your lack of relatives, for I should hate to have a bossy, interfering mother-in-law troubling me all the time. You also look as though you could bear me several fine sons," he laughed at Elysia's outraged expression, "and you happen to be a damned fine looking woman." He dropped a light kiss on her nose, thoroughly enjoying himself.

"I will not marry you!” Elysia told him angrily, her eyes glinting greenly. "I have no intention of agreeing to your proposals. I shall continue to London as planned and seek employment," she stated firmly, staring him in the eye. "You insult me, M'Lord. Proposing to me as if you were purchasing a mare going over my finer points, indeed!”

"Do you actually imagine that any woman would hire you to be a governess for her children, or as a companion to herself? Have you no awareness of yourself as a woman?" he disbelievingly demanded. "I've never yet met a woman who was not vain about her looks, and you are certainly a beauty, and bound to be a distraction to any man—especially if you're sleeping under his roof. I can't believe that a wife would willingly put you within sight of her husband's eye. Nor would some dowager enjoy seeing you everyday—a constant reminder of her lost youth and beauty, which she will never recapture again."

Elysia stared up at him; dismay written across her face by his words, spoken in obvious truthfulness.

"And furthermore," he continued relentlessly, "your reputation will have preceded you to London. Do you actually believe that any decent woman would hire you to look after her children?" he asked incredulously.

"And don't doubt for a moment that Sir Jason will waste any time in telling his tale, without his own duplicity of course, and if not Beckingham, then that thick-headed friend of his, Twillington. He arrived late last night. I don't believe you had the pleasure of meeting him until this morning. Of all the men I how, he must be the biggest windbag in all of London. His tongue runs on wheels, so you may be assured that the clubs of St. James will echo with this story. No doubt he will have lavishly embroidered it in’ exaggeration, so we will indeed my dear, be painted black. That is, if it is possible for my reputation to be made blacker," he laughed deeply. "But you, my dear, will become notorious, for having been found in bed with me, and I would not give your chances of finding employment-decent employment, that is-as much of a chance as a snowball in Hell has."

"You don't feel regretful or embarrassed about my predicament at all!” Elysia said in rising indignation. "I don't believe you have a shred of decency."

"No, I doubt if I do, but would you have me believe that you would rather work in some ungratifying and degrading job than marry a wealthy and titled gentleman, and have your every wish granted?"

"If that gentleman be you, then yes, I would! I would hire out as a scullery maid before accepting your name! You are no gentleman, M'Lord," Elysia declared hotly.

"By birth, yes. By reputation. . .?" he shrugged doubtfully. "But you sound quite the affronted and scorned female—well, if that is how you feel . . ." He released her shoulders, and leapt easily from the bed, ripping the covers from Elysia's naked body. He picked her up in one swoop, deposited her on the cold wooden floor squarely in the middle of the room, and then stood back and leisurely allowed his eyes to rove over her body. Elysia stood rigidly with her long hair rippling down below her hips. Her breasts were firm and round above a small waist and slender hips, her skin as smooth and white as alabaster. She could feel the flush of embarrassment heat her body as she tried ineffectually to shield herself with her hands.

"That's quite unnecessary, my dear, for I've already seen your charms-and sampled a few," he said cruelly, not sparing her from his ridicule. She kept her eyes averted from his bare body as he stood there unashamedly, with his broad muscular chest, its black curly hairs tapering down to lean narrow hips and long, firmly-muscled thighs, his obvious maleness flaunted before her shocked eyes. She had never seen a man's naked body before, and he was making her feel uncomfortable, very much aware of herself as a woman-and the difference between them.

"Now if you really are the well brought-up young lady you would have me believe, why aren't you making plans to drown yourself in some deep and murky pool, your honor saved? Of course, you could' always wait until you reached London, and then jump from a bridge into the Thames. Much more dramatic, my dear, and society would love it. You, of course, would be pitied, becoming a martyr for young womanhood betrayed. After all, you have spent the night with the notorious rake of London society—Lord Trevegne, and taken the only possible, and indeed, honorable way out."

Elysia felt tears swell in her eyes at his sneering and ridiculing remarks; her eyes large and luminous beneath her arched brows. She hung her head in dejection, tears of despair running down her pale cheeks. She tried valiantly but in vain to stifle her sobs as she felt all defiance drain out of her.

Something soft and warm was placed around her shoulders, and through her tears she saw that it was Lord Trevegne's coat. He guided her over to his bed, helping her in and covering her with a warm blanket. He stood staring down at her as she stared up into his face with watery, green eyes.

"You see, my dear, you really have no choice in the matter," he said not unkindly for once, "and I might add, that it would be criminal of me to allow so lovely a child to fling herself into the cold arms of Death, when mine are much warmer."

With that last jibe, he turned and proceeded to quickly dress. While pulling on his tall Hessians, he said shortly, "You stay where you are, and
I’ll
fetch your belongings. You may dress yourself in here. My carriage should be arriving momentarily, and then we will leave. But first
I’ll
have some breakfast sent up to you."

Elysia glanced at him as he left the room, his tall, broad form blocking the doorway, then disappearing as he closed the door behind him. She stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. Maybe she should try to drown herself, or even hang herself from the rafters, but that would give the inn a bad name, and that was hardly fair to the friendly innkeeper, she thought practically. She really should feel like killing herself—but the horrible thing was that she didn't feel in the least like 'taking her life. It was true that she had nobody left in the world to love, but some spark, some will to live was too strong in her to succumb to the death wish. But what would life be like married to Lord Trevegne, a roué and a knave, who admitted to his own blackened reputation?

Maybe she could run away? She must escape the Marquis. She was thinking of several possibilities when the Marquis opened the door and came in, putting her straw bag on the bed, along with her cloak and dress.

"I will have my coat now," he said, coming over to her side. She reluctantly struggled out of it and handed it to him, pulling the covers up securely around her shoulders as she peered up at him in uncertainty.

"My coach has arrived, so hurry and dress. We will depart in less than a half hour. And don't try to leave me by slipping out the back way, for I have made up my mind to marry you, and I shall, and I would find you Elysia," he threatened her coldly. "Also, I have confiscated this dangerous weapon of yours that found concealed in your clothes," he said, holding it gingerly in his large hands.

Elysia bit her lip in vexation. She had not forgotten the weapon, and had planned to use it to aid her escape.

"A very fine dueling pistol," he added expertly, fingering the smoothly curved grip of the pistol, the long barrel glinting with inlaid silver. He looked at Elysia in speculation. "You would not have been tempted to use this on me, would you?"

Elysia shrugged indifferently, masking her fear with flippancy. "I would not regret putting a hole in your arrogant chest, only it would be deflected when it hit that piece of rock you call a heart."

He laughed, apparently amused by her vitriolic reply. "You are very fortunate you did not try, my dear, for I deal harshly with attackers."

He left without a backward glance, and Elysia got slowly out of the bed and moved to her bag, checking to see if everything was still there. She found her nightdress stuffed in a wrinkled wad in the corner of it, and blushed in shame as she thought of how Sir Jason must have removed her gown and carried her naked to place her in the Marquis' bed.

Her mortification was replaced by anger and hatred as she thought of the indignity and humiliation Sir Jason had caused her. Lord Trevegne, she didn't doubt, deserved it however.
       
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Elysia was dressed and re-packing her bag when the tavern maid entered carrying a tray with hot chocolate, a thick piece of ham, hot, savory-smelling muffins filled with melting butter, and a small pot of golden honey. She placed it on the small table by the window and left hurriedly, giving Elysia a friendly wink; a knowing look on her freckled face as she closed the door with a giggle.