Heartless (38 page)

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were anxious to discover how rich you are.” His tone was deceptively mild.

“Perhaps I am,” she retorted. “Perhaps I am anxious to end this farce of a marriage and get on with my life.”

Why, oh, why had she said that? Leandra saw the darkening of her husband’s face and knew she was not going to get away with such a statement. She wondered what imp had prompted her to say it, arousing Derringer’s anger. She was very much afraid it was not only his anger that was aroused, however.

“Farce, Merri? How so?” he asked in that silky, infinitely dangerous tone.

Leandra stood and backed toward the exit, the one door leading to freedom. “Did I say farce, Hart? I don’t know what I was saying. I must have been thinking of… something else.”

He followed her to the door, matching every step she took, stalking her like a panther. She shivered when she made it to the door, reaching for the handle behind her. She turned it and practically fell into the corridor. She swung about, prepared to run for safety but her arm was lodged in something like steel. She turned her head, gazing up into the mocking eyes of her husband.

“Going somewhere, Merri?” he inquired as though asking about the weather.

“I have to check with Mrs. Stark about something,” she fabricated with impressive speed.

“Indeed? Well,” he said, drawing her resolutely back into the room, “Mrs. Stark will just have to wait. And damn the consequences.”

Gabriel wandered around the chilly countryside, pondering what he had learned, which was precious little. His mother had, of course, known about the late duchess’s revelation. She disclaimed knowing anything, however, about Derringer’s near-death experiences and seemed completely shocked that Gabriel may be going through the same.

There had been something in her manner, however, a furtiveness, a suspicious look in her eye that had caused him considerable alarm.

It was near Leandra’s cliffside that Gabriel bumped into the Earl of Harwood. Literally.

“The devil, man! Watch where you are going!” snapped the earl. Then he realized who it was and Gabriel was curious to note how the man’s complexion paled.

“Lord Harwood, I did not expect to see you out here,” responded Gabriel amiably.

“I was merely getting a view of the countryside hereabouts,” Harwood replied quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Gabriel knew he was lying. What did this man have to do with the attacks on Derringer? Instinct told Gabriel that Harwood was a key element in all this, though he couldn’t, for the life of him, determine how or why.

“Indeed?” Gabriel looked around. “There is not much to see here unless you are waiting for a boat to come in.”

Harwood shook his head emphatically, his cherubic countenance turning a dusky shade of red. “I have no reason to be doing that, have I?” he said with a smile.

“Then why are you here?” Gabriel stood looking down on the shorter man, his face as dangerous as Derringer’s and uncanny in its resemblance to that man.

Harwood stuttered something unintelligible and hurriedly took his leave.

Gabriel watched him scurry away and frowned. The man had been skulking about for a reason. What was it?

As he turned to walk away, a man stepped out from behind a tree nearby. Gabriel never saw him. He was struck down with a stout cudgel and hefted over a stouter shoulder.

It was amazing, Leandra thought later, how one could actually fear something that could turn out so completely wonderful.

But then, her husband had looked anything but gentle when he forced her back into the room a few hours prior. He had seemed determined and perhaps a little angry. For that, she really couldn’t blame him. She had pushed him too far, she knew, with her complaints about the consequences of their actions and leaving him. It was her desire for him that made her goad him into taking her and her fear that had kept her from admitting that she was deeply in love with him.

She turned slightly to gaze at her sleeping husband. His black hair was spread out on the pillow, his breathing deep and even. She stared at him for a long moment, content, happy. While she missed her father a great deal, she knew that had he lived, she would have ended her days in spinsterhood if she hadn’t married some man who was willing to take her on for the dowry her father was willing to pay.

Reaching out a hand, Leandra gently brushed a lock of hair from her husband’s brow. He came awake, every muscle tensing as if waiting for attack. His hand trapped hers where she touched him and she bit back a startled cry of pain.

Derringer released her, dragging her up with him as he sat, holding her close. He said nothing and just held her until the initial fear subsided. Her own tension faded, her body easing against his.

“What has happened to you, my dear,” she murmured into his chest, “to cause such fear?”

Derringer stiffened. “I am afraid of nothing, Merri,” he growled.

Leandra sat back and looked up into his dark eyes. “You fear many things, Hart. Everyone, man, woman, and child, has fears, worries, and anxieties. It is normal. The strength is in letting someone share those with you.”

He stared at her. “You make it sound so simple.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “It is most difficult, I assure you.”

Derringer released her and pushed one hand through his hair, frowning as he did so. He was completely fed up with wondering when the next attack on his life would take place. He was not afraid for himself anymore, and that scared him more than anything else did. Leandra needed him and he realized that life without her was not worth living.

But there was no way, despite her entreaties, that he could confide in her. He looked at her, watched the emotions flit through her hazel eyes and at that moment, he smiled with a trace of genuine happiness.

“What?”

“I just realized,” he murmured, drawing her back into his arms, “when you are completely incoherent with passion, your eyes turn the most beautiful shade of blue.”

Derringer emerged from another steamy session of lovemaking strangely restless. His wife knew no such restlessness, having dropped off to sleep almost before he’d rolled away from her. His body screamed for a respite, just a bit of rest, but his mind refused to calm.

He, of course, knew why. He wanted an end to the madness that plagued him. It was very nearly over, he knew, and all he had to do was put himself out there where he could once again be vulnerable to attack. Then, he’d either have the villains responsible or he would die like his father had—young and under suspicious circumstances.

He looked down at his sleeping wife and thought he had never seen anyone quite so beautiful. Her long brown curls lay in disarray over her naked shoulders, partially masking her face. Her beauty wasn’t of the obvious or of the popular sort. Her clear skin, honest, open features, and acceptance of her own strengths and flaws made her something out of the ordinary. To Derringer, the obvious and the popular beauties paled in comparison.

Desire flared, the desire to love her again, to show her how much a part of him she’d become. Consideration for her held him back. He’d made demands on her innocent body that she barely understood and, he realized now, she’d complied with innocent desire and complete trust. In him.

His desire of a moment before died, fear taking over. Trusting in him for any reason could get her killed.

The duke pressed a kiss to Leandra’s brow. She murmured something in her sleep, a smile curving her kiss-swollen lips. Derringer felt a painful lurch in his heart. He silently rose from the bed and dressed, his movements hurried. Returning to the bedside, he stared down at her for a long moment. Leandra sighed in her sleep. He pulled the blankets up over her tenderly.

“I love you, my heart,” he whispered.

Then, the Duke of Derringer disappeared.

29

Leandra didn’t wake until the following morning, her stomach making its dissatisfaction known. The rest of her body remained satiated, memories of the previous day warming her from head to toe.

She stretched like a cat, reaching for her husband. Her hands encountered nothing but air. Heart lurching, she opened her eyes. He was not there. In fact, the bedsheet’s cold caress on her fingertips revealed it had been some time since he’d been there.