How I Married a Marquess (11 page)

He needed to know, just as much as she needed to keep her silence. Yet for one moment she considered revealing everything, to find relief in finally being able to share with someone the part of her life that isolated her so much from the people she loved. Even from her family.

No
.
No good would come of that. She had to make him leave her alone before he discovered all her secrets. And there was no other way to do it than by revealing the most painful one of all.

Ignoring the stabs of equal parts dread and panic plunging into her, she drew a deep breath and said softly, “That night at the dance, you met my brothers.” She ignored the tight clenching of her chest as she confessed, “But they're not my true brothers.”

“Ah, stepbrothers.” He nodded knowingly. “Which explains why you don't look a thing—”

“I was adopted.”

Thomas pulled back sharply on the reins and brought the team to a prancing stop. He turned in the seat to stare at her as stunned surprise flashed through him.
Adopted?
He'd known she was keeping secrets, but good Lord, he hadn't expected that.

His eyes narrowing, he took in every bit of her, from the sea-green eyes to the dirt smear on her forehead. Since the moment she'd stuck her head out the window of the orphanage to glare down at him, he'd seen a hundred different emotions flit across her pretty face, but always the unguarded moments were fleeting, as if a veil had come down across her features.

But this expression now…well, that was pure feminine vulnerability, and it took his breath away.

She glanced down at her hands, as if unable to look at him for fear that he gazed on her with shock. Or worse, with pity. “Mama wanted another child—a girl—but she'd had complications with Quinn and the doctors advised her against getting with child again. So they adopted me.” Her gaze fixed on her fingers as they plucked nervously at her skirt. “I was six and a hellion, the most impossible child to be the daughter of a baron, truly. But they wanted a girl who could hold her own against the boys, and they raised me as if I were their natural-born daughter.”

“You're very fortunate,” he mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

But a sad, self-deprecating smile tugged faintly at her lips. “I suppose.”

That certainly wasn't the response he'd expected. “Josephine, if I—”

“Now that you know who I really am,” she interrupted, her spine straightening as she pulled herself up tall on the seat beside him, “I'm certain you'll want to apologize for kissing me yesterday in the stables and return me to the orphanage.”

“Not for the world,” he murmured, letting his eyes drift down to stare tantalizingly at the top swells of her breasts just visible over her lace-edged neckline. He thought he saw her tremble. “The way you look and taste, what you do to me—” She swallowed nervously at that, and the gentle undulation of her throat made his gut clench, so hard that it stopped him in mid-sentence.
Sweet Lucifer
, this woman was a poisonous cure.

He shifted slightly to brush his thigh against hers on the narrow seat, and now there was no doubt she was trembling. Such a strong and confident woman, yet still so vulnerable, still so unaware of the effect she had on him. Frustration roared inside him that he couldn't take her into his arms and kiss her again, just to prove to her how right kissing her had been. The same phaeton that allowed them to be alone and unchaperoned also prevented all the pleasures of being unchaperoned. And alone.

“Did you enjoy it, Josephine?” he asked gently, not wanting to frighten her with the intensity of his desire to hear her answer.

Her hands tightened in the fabric of her skirt, as if she was fighting back the urge to either slap him or grab him and pull him closer. And the little hellcat could very well have been contemplating either option. But he knew which one he wanted from her, although he feared she didn't want the same.
Good Lord
.
This had never happened to him before, not knowing if a woman wanted him or not. His kisses usually left women begging to be taken to his bed, but then, Josephine Carlisle was no ordinary woman. She was an intriguing, sharp, and independent creature, the likes of which he'd never met before. One who made him feel whole again when he was with her. And he wasn't ready to let go of that sensation just yet.

When she didn't answer, he pressed forward. “Well,
I
certainly enjoyed kissing you.” He slowly brushed his leg against hers, the leather of his boot sliding against the softness of her stocking beneath the hem of her skirt. She shivered with blossoming arousal, her sensuous lips parting delicately, and his heart thudded against his ribs in response. “Tell me you enjoyed it, too,” he urged softly, praying she couldn't hear the desperation edging his voice. “Come on, Jo. Don't make me feel like a cad for wanting you.”

Her eyes widened as they found his, the green seas in their depths turning dark and stormy. She murmured incredulously, “You
wanted
me?”

The unintended sultriness of her words cascaded down to the tip of his cock, and he hardened instantly.
Jesus
.
Thank God he was sitting down, or she would have had a clear view of exactly how much he wanted her.

“I still do,” he answered, in the same sultry tone. She continued to stare at him with a look of confounded disbelief, but there was desire there as well, mirrored back at him. His chest soared like some green boy's who was alone with his first woman. “But what do you want from me, Josephine?”

At that moment he would have given her anything she asked as long as she remained with him, keeping the darkness at bay and making him feel alive again. And if she dared to whisper that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her—

A grim sobriety darkened her pretty face, and she answered so softly he barely heard her, “Coal.”

“Pardon?” He couldn't have possibly heard correctly…
coal
?

Instead of repeating her words, she stared at him curiously, her head tilting slightly to the side as she studied him. “It doesn't bother you to know that I'm an orphan?” Disbelief flooded through her soft voice. “It doesn't make you want to race back to the orphanage to return me?”

“Absolutely not.” He didn't give a damn that she was adopted. His best friend and brother-in-law had been an orphan, and he loved Nathaniel Grey like a true brother and thought nothing less of him for it. In fact, he admired him for surviving that horrible childhood and raising himself up to become one of England's most powerful men.

But the dubious expression that flitted over her face told him she didn't believe him. No matter, as long as she let him remain in her presence. As long as he could figure out what it was about her that gave him the only peace he'd experienced since the shooting, so he could take that same peace with him when he found Royston's highwayman and returned to the War Office.

She arched a challenging brow. “Then don't move.”

Well,
that
was an unexpected response. The drive had suddenly turned very interesting, and his gut burned with curiosity to discover what thoughts were speeding through her nimble little mind. “All right.”

Drawing a deep breath, as if gathering her courage, she slowly reached her hand toward his as he held the reins between his knees. Her fingers were gentle and soft as they touched him, and even through his gloves he could feel the heat of her, the tenderness of her fingertips as she explored him curiously. Her hand trembled in its inexperienced innocence despite the sophisticated façade she presented. He would have laughed at her pretense except that an electric shiver that was anything but innocent raced through him, and his cock jumped at the tantalizing thought of her hands exploring lower down his body.

“There have been previous gentlemen at Blackwood Hall who wanted to catch my attention the way you have,” she admitted quietly as her hand continued along his forearm to the bend at his elbow, then up toward his shoulder, feeling the hard muscle beneath his sleeve.

A stab of jealousy pierced his chest, but he'd be damned if he'd let her see it. “I don't blame them.”

“Hmm. They spent the week giving me posies and compliments, maneuvering their way into being seated next to me at dinner, flattering me with their attentions and invitations for strolls through the gardens, drives in the countryside…”

Beneath her careful explorations, he remained perfectly still, not daring to say a single word for fear she'd stop touching him. He couldn't remember the last time any woman had so leisurely discovered him like this. The women he associated with were experienced and world-weary, so much so that feeling a man's muscles held no fascination for them. But Josie's touch was curious and unpracticed, most likely driven on by the heat of the encounter they'd shared in the stables, and the last thing he wanted to do was stop her.

Yet he found her innocent touch more than just sexually intoxicating. He found it healing. Because when she rested her other hand lightly on his arm, her fingertips touching that spot on his wrist just above the end of his glove where the bindings still held him prisoner in his nightmares, the itching
ebbed away until only the warmth of her touch remained.

“One or two of them went so far as to take me shopping for ribbons at the mercantile.” She laughed faintly at the ludicrousness of that. “Can you imagine—
ribbons
?”

“They must not have known you very well.” His voice came ragged with arousal, his lips thick from craving the taste of her.

“Oh, they thought they knew me well enough. After all, they'd found out that I was an orphan.”

Her hand trailed along the collar of his redingote to his lapels and down his chest. Inwardly cursing the phaeton now and his inability to remove his hands from the reins to put them on her, he forced himself to breathe slowly and steadily, only to give a shuddering pant when her hand slipped beneath his jacket to fondle the buttons of his waistcoat.

“Which meant they thought they could enjoy the pleasures of ruining me—those who didn't presume that I'd already been bedded, that is. They thought they could put their hands on me however they pleased.”

He sharply sucked in a mouthful of air beneath clenched teeth at the thought of doing just that…of his hands exploring beneath her skirt and finding her damp and hot for him, of his mouth suckling at her breasts. Of having her touch on him, her hands running across the muscles of his chest and that ripe mouth of hers closed around his cock. There would certainly be no fear of the darkness beneath
that
distraction, and when they'd finished taking their pleasure in each other, he would sleep. Without nightmares, without the terror of waking alone in the darkness. With Josephine still lying in his arms.

“You see, they believed they wouldn't be forced to take responsibility for it. After all, I might be a baron's adopted daughter, but underneath all the silk and lace, I'm still just an orphan.” In the green pools of her eyes, he saw arousal and desire; there was no denying that. But he also saw something else—suspicion. “The
ton
would never cut one of their own for refusing to marry someone like me. And they knew it.
You
know it.”

“I'm not one of those men,” he ground out, anger mixing with his arousal. “I would never dare to presume that about you.”

His hands tightened around the ribbons. He was furious at those men for thinking they could ruin her and simply walk away, as if she were nothing more than another party entertainment. And then his fury turned on himself when he realized that was exactly what he wanted to do, too—take selfish pleasures in her, then somehow keep the peace she brought him after he returned to his old life. A life that didn't allow for the distractions she'd bring.

Her fingers slipped the top button free, and his breath hitched. She was playing a dangerous game now. “Josephine—”

She placed her lips near his ear and whispered, “So I'm to believe that you're paying me attention, kidnapping me for drives, and kissing me only because you enjoy spending time with me?”

Her fingertips slipped beneath his waistcoat and cravat to caress the bare skin of his neck…so soft and delicate, so tantalizingly erotic in their featherlight touches. The irony wasn't lost on him that she was purposefully mimicking the same way he'd touched her yesterday morning in the stable, the same way he'd tugged open her collar to feel her soft skin beneath. She was using his own seduction against him.

“And for no other reason than that?” Her soft words tickled against his ear like a dare.

With arousal and anger speeding his heartbeat in equal measure, he refused to answer. He couldn't deny wanting to seduce her, and more with each passing moment. The damned woman knew it, too. But he wanted her for more than just physical release, and how could he explain that without frightening her away?

“Be honest with me, Thomas.” Each word came as a hot, shivering breath. “Do you have intentions of courting me after the party ends?”

It would have been so easy to lie to her and get exactly what he wanted—her company for the next four days, the delicious distraction of her keeping away the darkness, perhaps additional kisses and even more shared intimacies. But he wanted his old life back more, and there wasn't a place in it for a woman. Even one as special as her.

“No,” he bit out honestly, the frustration pounding achingly through him.

“Then you're no different from those other men after all.” Having proved her point, she dropped her hands away from him, then folded her arms tightly across her chest to erect as much of a barrier between them as she could. Her eyes glowed hard with recrimination. “And I think it best if we stay away from each other from now on.”

He clenched his jaw. Stubborn, willful, challenging…She was lucky he couldn't take his hands off the reins or he would have throttled her right there for that damned object lesson she'd just delivered.
Stay away from her
?
He nearly laughed. He was too close to gaining back the life he'd lost, both in Royston's recommendation for arresting the highwayman and in the receding darkness he'd felt since he met her, to dare to stop now.