Highest Stakes (66 page)

  "You believe me callous and indifferent?"

  "You have rebuffed me at every turn, keeping me at arm's length from the very start. You even brought a young woman to my home, whom I have since come to cherish almost as a daughter, but who is, nonetheless, legally your wife. You do not consider these actions cruel and callous?"

  "You have hardly languished for want of me," he answered laconically.

  She prickled at the barb. "I never confessed to pining, nor have I been lonely. I have no respect for martyrs, Philip. I have carried on." She looked away, adding almost inaudibly, "Though I have never loved but you."

  "What did you say?"

  "You still do not believe me?"

  He didn't know if he believed or not, but did it matter anymore? Her words had appeased some of his hurt and anger, but her look of entreaty reached far deeper inside, touching the raw place, answering his need. The force of his emotions overpowered any remaining hesitation. He drew her to him with near-violent intensity, selfishly demanding.

  Understanding his need, Susannah gave without reservation.

Philip stirred first, his slumbering lover cradled in his arms, the first rays of daylight filtering through the windows. He shifted carefully, loath to awaken her. What had happened between them was inevitable; he had recognized it the moment he walked back through her door. He had tried to maintain an aloof and detached distance, but his feelings for her ran far deeper than he understood. He was somehow connected with her at a profound level. She
was
his longed-for peace. He wanted her, not just sexually, but in every way. She belonged to him.

  He gazed at her face as she stirred in her sleep, a slight frown emphasizing the faint line between her brows. He grazed this place with his lips, an unconscious gesture to erase any sign of worry from his lover's mind. It was a just a light brush, but she opened her eyes into his longing gaze.

  "Marry me, Sukey," he murmured softly against her skin as his lips moved to her temple.

  "But you are already married," she whispered.

  "I can end it, my dearest love." He left a trail of warm, moist kisses along her jaw and down her neck, and his hand moved to cup and caress her breast. She moaned before breathing a reluctant sigh of protest "Please, Philip. I can't think when you do that." Although she could not undo the events of the prior evening, Sukey felt the first stirrings of conscience. Last night she had had no regrets, but as morning dawned, she was painfully and dismally aware that she could have no future with this man.

  Her mind reeled as he continued to tease her. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much." He flashed his roguish grin, and she was lost to all reason.

Hours later Susannah reawoke to find Philip contemplating the ceiling. She stretched cat-like and then rolled on top of him, crossing her arms and resting her chin thoughtfully on her hands while she patiently watched him cogitate.

  "Do you have it worked out yet, Philip?" she queried, watching his expression.

  "To which dilemma do you refer? I find I struggle with several." He splayed one hand on the small of her back, and the other stroked her silky hair. "I want you," he murmured with furrowed brow.

  "Yet again? Lesser mortals would have expired by this time." She chuckled, and he pinched her hard on the left buttock. "What was that about?" she cried.

  "Your attention was straying, and you were causing mine to follow. We need to
talk
now. We've matters to resolve."

  "Such as?"

  "I have again asked you to wed me, and you once more failed to answer in the affirmative."

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he laid a finger to her lips, arresting her reply.

  "Let me finish please. I could press for an annulment. There are unquestionably grounds for one. I could arrange a modest settlement for Charlotte. Although the estate is rather a shambles, I could provide her enough to ensure reasonable comfort somewhere in the country. She could live quietly without fear of scandal touching her.

  "If you agree to have me, Sukey, I will sell my commission and make you my lady, my Countess of Hastings in word and deed." He finished by slowly, sensuously tracing her lips with the same finger that had stayed them. He tipped her chin, firmly affixing her gaze in anticipation of her answer.

  "Philip,"—she sighed deeply— "please know that I love you beyond comprehension, but what you ask is unconscionable." Had it been any other woman, she would have vanquished her qualms without hesitation, but how could she do such a thing to Charlotte?

  "I would with all my soul that Charlotte had in truth been your ward rather than your wife." She regarded him accusingly. "Though I allow you have no tender feelings for one another, you cannot just discard your responsibility for her. Ultimately, it was the choice you made."

  He exploded. "Choice? I had no choice! The old sod had me backed into a corner. It was no less than extortion!"

  "Philip," she replied calmly, "it was no less a choice. You took the noble path by agreeing to protect a young woman who had no other protection, and for that I love you." She kissed him deeply before he could form another protest. "But there is another matter you have yet to consider." She directed her gaze on the wall beyond his left shoulder. "As a nobleman, you shall require an heir."

  "Hell and damnation, Sukey!" he cursed. "Has it always to come back to the infernal heir? My brother, who would gladly have taken his place as Earl of Hastings, a position I never truly coveted, by the by, is in an early grave because of our father's obsession with an heir. What should it matter now? What has it to do with us?"

  "You may not care now, but one day that will change. You come from a noble family, and it is your onus."

  "Then why should you and I not make a child together? I am willing to make such a supreme sacrifice." He flashed his irresistible grin, but his words ripped her soul to shreds.

  "Because I am barren!" she cried. "I was married to Nigel for ten years and never once conceived."

  "He was a doddering old man," he protested.

  "But you were not. We were lovers and took no precaution. In your inexperience, you may not have known any better, but I did. And at now five-and-thirty, I believe it impossible for me. You need Charlotte because you need an heir." She choked on these final words.

  "I don't want her, nor does she want me!" he retorted.

  "Give her time. Her emotions are raw, like a cut slow to heal. Treat her with tenderness and patience, and she will come around."

  "So this is your answer? You would deny us both for the sake of Charlotte? I thought you had no patience with martyrs, yet you would make martyrs of us both!"

  As he threw her words back in her face, she winced.

  "I have neither the soul nor the temperament for martyrdom, Sukey."

  Philip furiously hauled himself from the tangled bed, renting the sheets in the process. He snatched at his clothes scattered on the floor and began methodically dressing.

  "Where are you going?" Her voice quavered.

  "As it seems we've nothing further to discuss, I shall go and hire a competent steward for Hastings, then I will go back to my regiment. I find I've no desire to play lord of the manor." He stomped his second heel into his boot and departed half dressed, slamming the door behind him.

  Sukey lay dazed in her bed, her wits as tangled as her sheets. She was an intelligent woman, one who knew herself and directed her own path. She had been content with her life
before
his return. But with his departure,
damn him to hell
, from out of nowhere, emptiness flooded her being. In just one night he had made her life a complete and utter muddle!

  She longed to be with him and ached with a desire she had never dared confess, even to herself, the desire for motherhood. Sukey yearned with all her heart to bear Philip's children but knew she would never achieve this desire. Charlotte was his wife and had nearly two decades ahead of her to fill his nursery. Could she have said it any other way?

  But if she could not be Philip's wife, could she be content as his mistress? she asked herself, not knowing the answer. She had become Charlotte's friend, mentor, and confidante.

  How could she possibly countenance such a double life?

  Her heart, however, cried louder than her conscience.

W hen
Charlotte returned to Cheveley, she discovered her request had been unexpectedly answered.

  "Jemmy!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

  "Jeffries was asking about in Doncaster, seein' as ye has a need for a stud groom, miss… er missus," he amended. "And being that ye be just starting out, and I don't ask much fer wages…" He blushed.

  "So you have volunteered your services?" she finished.

  "Somethin' like that. Jeffries hisself weren't inclined to leave Sir Garfield, being he's been wi' the Bart so long. But he says I might could do the job fer ye. I apprenticed last year at Routh's stud up North, and though Jeffries might think me still wet behind the ears, I figures I be as good as any other," he added defensively.

  "Far be it for me to scorn your help. I know next to nothing of breeding or foaling. It is hardly deemed an occupation for women," Charlotte remarked ruefully. "I am glad to have you, Jemmy. Although the cottage is small, there is a room off of the kitchen…"

  "I be used to living above the stables, missus."

  Charlotte blushed now. "As you see, Jemmy, the house is modest. The stables here are barely large enough for two horses. I have leased property and built run-in sheds for the mares, so you will just have to suffer our company—Letty's and mine—that is, at least until foaling time, where you might have to make due in the shed."

  "If that be the case, your mare won't drop her foal."

  "What on earth do you mean? She's due any day by the look of her."

  "Mares be real modest creatures and like to give birth privily. Many a mare that's been ready to pop held off until there was no one around to see it."

  "But then how should we know when her time is come?"

  "She be already showing the signs. I check on her this very morning."

  "Is she?" Charlotte exclaimed. "I must go to her at once!"

  With Jemmy in tow, Charlotte walked the mile and a half to Amoret's pasture, where the mare, looking miserable, lumbered heavily toward her mistress. Her nicker of greeting lacked the usual enthusiasm.