Lord Beast (27 page)

Her eyes returned to his
poignantly and the hurt displayed in them made his gut clench impulsively with
a flicker of guilt. He ignored the reaction, forcing himself to recall her
outright deceit instead.

“Don’t,” she told him urgently.
“Please, don’t. Rhys, it was
never
my intention to force our suit. I
don’t know why-”

“Shut up!”

Abruptly, he pushed her up and
onto her vanity, the various bottles and containers tinkling in protest at the
sudden disruption, and leaned her against the long mirror. She gasped in
surprise, in fear, and clutched the tops of his arms, restraining the force of
his actions, of his anger.

“Rhys, no-”

“You wanted to marry me,” he
growled, yanking her arms away from his person and trapping them above her
head, pressing her hands against the coldness of the glass. “This comes with
the wedding, sweetheart.”

“Please,” she murmured brokenly,
her eyes imploring, as she wiggled a wrist free and spread her fingers over his
cheek, over the scars there. He shuddered involuntarily at her touch. “Believe
me. I
love
you.”

“Stop,” he said raggedly, jerking
his face away and re-fastening her hand above her head. He brought his head
down, intending to kiss her, but she turned her head to the side, her eyes
downcast. Her breathing was hard and fast, her chest pressed against his, and
Rhys stilled, studying her profile. A niggling sensation of doubt began to
plague him and he watched, profoundly, as a single tear materialised out of the
corner of her eye and slid languidly down her pale cheek. What if he were
wrong
?

What if everything he had thought
about her, every single wretched, vile thing had been incorrect? What if she
wasn’t the liar he thought she was, the cunning little actress out to deceive a
forgotten earl in order to gain access to his title, his wealth? Could he
really believe that Danielle wasn’t like that? Could he be sure?

And if she wasn’t, then he had
hurt her terribly. The significance of that, of her suffering at his hand, he
could not bear. Lovely, soft, sweet Danielle… no, he couldn’t live with himself
if he had been the cause of her tears, her pain, when all she had done was
declare her love for him despite his resilience to remain pig-headed and
accusingly judgmental.

He went cold and he suddenly
hated himself, hated all the things he had done to her. Even if she had
deceived him into marriage, he didn’t really think she’d be capable of using
her love in such a flippant manner, yet he had refuted it, thrown it back in
her face. She had remained proud and steadfast and lovely and he… oh, he was
vile, the lowest form of life.

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve her sweet
attempts at taming him, at making him soften towards him.

Surely, if she had done something
wrong, she would apologize, and if she did, surely he could be the decent human
being she thought he was and accept it? But no. He’d gone too far. He’d been
irrepressibly and deliberately hurtful.

Even if he was still not sure
whether he could trust her, there was no excuse for his behaviour.

Cursing, he pulled away from her
and left her chambers, closing the door that separated them with a quiet but
resolute thud.

Later, after she had recovered
sufficiently from her last encounter with Rhys, Dani took a moment to reflect
on what should have been the happiest day of her life. If she had only been
more appreciative and less self-absorbed, she would have enjoyed and
appreciated the lavishness of the affair set out for her.

Truly, it would have been quite a
spectacular party if Dani hadn’t been so mired in her own self-pity. The food
was exquisite, of the highest standard and quality, and the servants had done a
splendid job decorating the dining hall with candles and flowers.

She should have taken more time
to appreciate the niceties around her. After all, it was her wedding day- her
only
wedding day- and she should have made the most of it. As such, the ceremony
itself was a miserable memory she didn’t like to dwell on and the reception,
with the foreboding man beside her, hadn’t perked up either. Not even
Victoria’s cheerful banter about everything and anything had managed to lift up
the sullenness of Dani’s mood (the woman even prattled on about green moss at
one point, Lord knows why).

The serving staff were a nice
change to Falmouth. The castle came alive with homeliness and Dani couldn’t
help but notice the vast difference it made to have somebody around to open and
dust the drapes. The place became warmer, almost welcoming, rather than the
cold dark hovel Rhys had insisted burying himself in for the last five years.

After bidding the guests’
goodnight downstairs, Dani had retired to her chambers- a huge, overbearing
circular room that was adjoined to Rhys’s through a connecting door. All her
belongings had been transported earlier from the small cottage and unpacked
into her new home accordingly. She had even been assigned a ladies maid, which was
entirely new. She’d never been privileged enough to have her own maid before
now.

It had been an emotionally
draining day, to be sure, and then to have her wedding night ruined because of
the irredeemable stubbornness of one’s husband… it was all too much to bear, to
handle with a modicum of dignity, and to vent some of that frustration Dani had
walloped a pillow so brutally hard against the wall that it had exploded,
showering her with feathers and resulting in a sneezing fit that lasted well
into the morning.

It was every young girl’s
(secret) dream to have a magical wedding night of her own, a night brimming
with sensual promise and illicit delight that was
never
uttered in
polite society but certainly hinted at… Oh, and Rhys had hinted at it, all right.
Now he just had to be so dratted ornery and unaccommodating it just wasn’t
fair!

As Dani clambered into a bed that
was all too big for her person, having only been used to the narrow cot in her
aunt and uncle’s cottage and was now practically swallowed whole by the
cumbersome quilt and widely soft mattress, she realised that despite a castle
with a host of servants and a husband in the room adjoining hers, she had never
felt so alone in her life before.

Not even when it was just her and
her mother in London and Dani was forced to cancel arrangements with a small
group of friends to nurse another episode that would occasionally envelope her
mother had she felt so inconsolably alone. Those moments of loneliness were
trumped by the urgent desire to tend to the one person who depended on her, who
needed her for their own survival. Dani had gladly confined them away from
prying eyes while she battled her mother’s self-inflicted injuries, her dark
moods and fits of violence, her lethargy and the illnesses that followed. It
had been difficult, yes, but she hadn’t felt terribly alone.

Now, she did. She didn’t have
anyone that depended on her, who needed her. She had… nothing.

Sneezing, she settled herself
comfortably in her big, empty bed. He should be beside her. They should be
happy. That’s how things were supposed to be not like… not like
this
.
She recalled her uncle’s words about honesty, about how Rhys cherished the
quality above all others and how she had been blatantly honest with him this
evening.

She had
tried
, truly she
had. What more could she do? She had been more honest with Rhys than she had
been with herself at times. Oh, the man was stubborn. How more honest could she
possibly get? How could she make him believe her, that she was being truthful?

Maybe, just maybe, she was going
about this all wrong. Perhaps Rhys put more value in actions, rather than
words, and she would have to figure out some way to prove to him that she was
being purely honest. However, Dani wasn’t that innovative. Oh, she could voice
pretty little limericks and conjure vivid images with the swish of a pen, but
when it came to actually doing or plotting an action, she was sincerely
useless. What she needed was advice from someone equally creative, who was
married to an equally stubborn man, and had somehow succeeded in making the man
fall in love with her despite everything else about her.

What Dani needed was advice from
Victoria Sinclair and the Lord knew just how difficult it must have been to
fall in love with
that
woman.

Two
Days Later

Dani stretched her back after the
long carriage journey to Hawthorne, craning her neck and shading her eyes from
the bright sun so that she could better observe the towering grey walls of the
extensive house. Her bonnet dangled from her wrist, teased gently by the
mellifluous breeze that accompanied the first few days of spring.

A footman opened the doors as she
gingerly climbed the steps towards the entrance and she was ushered inside, the
butler already having taken it upon himself to announce her presence to Lady
Sinclair. Another servant removed her coat before the butler returned to show
her directly to the drawing room where Victoria was awaiting her arrival.

Dani found herself smiling at the
thought of Grayson
ever
doing something like that for guests at Falmouth
Castle. In fact, Grayson would not even bother to be so cordial, not to
her
or his master.

Upon seeing Dani, Victoria bolted
out of her chair and embraced her tightly. “You look better,” she said, leaning
back to study her face carefully. “Well, at least you’re smiling.”

Dani pursed her lips. “What do
you mean?”

Vicky waved her hand dismissively
as she frowned concernedly down at her. “Oh, nothing really,” she explained.
“It’s just that you’ve been looking a little… under the weather. Tired, really,
and not your usual self. You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

That could very well be true,
Dani mused, as she hadn’t had much of an appetite of late, preferring to nibble
at her food rather, especially while she dined alone at an enormous table with
only the servants looking on. It was quite discomforting that Rhys had not
bothered to join her for meals the past couple of days. “I’m fine,” she told
her friend after a moment.

“Let’s sit while I call some
tea,” Vicky urged, guiding them towards a femininely pink settee and ensuring
that Dani took her seat before she rung for a servant.

“Where is Gabriel?” Dani asked
curiously, studying the expanse of the room as if the man were hiding behind a
pink curtain or under a shawl of lace somewhere. “Is he not joining us?”

Vicky raised a humorous brow, her
lips quirking dryly. “Would you like him to?” she asked. “I gathered from your
note that you wanted to discuss matters of a personal nature, so I excluded
Gabriel from this little meeting. I believe he has buried his nose in the
morning papers, going over his stock or some such nonsense.”

“No, no. That’s quite alright. I
wouldn’t want to bother him and, anyway, I did specifically want to discuss
something with you and you are correct. It is of a very delicate nature and it
would probably be best if Gabriel
never
hears of this.”

“Oh!” Victoria leaned forward
excitedly, eagerly encouraging Dani to continue with her wide, inquisitive
eyes. “You’ve got me intrigued now, Dani. Go on.”

Dani cleared her throat
delicately before looking Vicky straight in the eye. She knew she could be
comfortable with her friend, that anything she wished to discuss she could do
so uninhibited by judgment from her, but it was still a bit disconcerting
asking your best friend how she got
anyone
to fall in love with her.
Dani would have to choose her words wisely. “Uh…” she began thickly, her tongue
gluing itself to the top of her palate. “Well, what I want to ask exactly is,
er, how… hmmm. You and Gabriel.”

“Yes?”

“Gabriel and you.”

“We have established that,”
Victoria teased her dryly, “the topic of conversation here is Gabriel and I.
Now, if you wouldn’t mind, some specifics would be most welcome.”

Dani blushed a little and
twiddled her fingers distractedly in her lap. Oh, bother. She might as well
just come clean with it. “Fine, alright, so… You and Gabriel…” Vicky raised her
brows in disbelief. “Damn. Well, simply, how did you get him to fall in love
with you?” At the shocked expression on her face, Dani hastily aimed to amend,
“I mean, what did you do? If you did indeed
do
anything? Oh, blast.
Look, I’m trying to ask you if there was anything special you did that might
have, er, sped up the process of Gabriel falling in love with you?”

There was an incredibly dry yet
understanding smile on Vicky’s face. “Let me get this straight,” she clarified
cheerfully, “you want to know if I made Gabriel fall in love with me. Is that
it?”

“Well, not
precisely
, but
you may look at it from that perspective I suppose.”

Victoria smiled before glancing
up at the ceiling, contemplating her answer. “Well, no, to be honest. As you
well know, I was quite impossible back then. In fact, I think I may have
coordinated all my actions so that I deliberately stepped on his toes.”