Love's Promise (14 page)

When they eventually parted ways, if she was shrewd and clever, she could be financially set for the rest of her life.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” he asked.

‘I’m not being stubborn. I’m trying to do what’s right for my nephew. Surely, you can sympathize. He’s your nephew, too.”

“What if I said I’d let you see him?”

“And the price is an affair with you?”

“Yes.”

“I do believe that’s the most despicable thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I won’t apologize for attempting to save you from a life of drudgery and woe. I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to do what’s best for you, too.”

She studied him, her beautiful emerald eyes digging deep, probing to his contemptible core, and he shifted uneasily. She’d already had a good sampling of how ruthless he could be, and he didn’t want her reminded of his wicked character. He wanted her to view him as a different man, as a better man, rather than the one he actually was.

“Is Thomas at Henley Hall?” she inquired. “Is that why you’re going there?”

“Henley Hall is my home,” he replied to keep from answering her question. “It’s many hours ride from London.”

“But Thomas is there, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s there.”

She was trembling. “And if I say
yes
to your scheme, I’ll see him?”

“Yes.”

“Swear it to me.”

“I swear it.”

The room grew very still. He could hear a bird singing in the tree outside, could hear the clock ticking down in the foyer. Her shaking stopped, and she bit on her bottom lip, her gaze troubled, a vein pulsing at her nape.

“Then yes,” she said, “I will be your mistress.”

He wanted to shout in triumph, but he tamped down his excitement.

“Fine. We’ll leave at nine. I like to get an early start, so please be prepared on time.”

He slipped out, absurdly glad at having gleaned her agreement, and as he hurried down the hall, the maid, Peggy, was hovering, her expression concerned.

“Master Thomas isn’t at Henley Hall,” she blurted out before she could remember to be circumspect.

“No, he’s not, and you’ve obviously eavesdropped when you shouldn’t have. I’m ordering you not to talk about this with anyone—particularly the details about my destination. If you disobey me, you’ll be terminated. Do you understand?”

For the briefest second, she looked as if she might argue, but she came to her senses and curtsied politely.

“Yes, Lord Henley.”

“You’re excused.”

“Mr. Sinclair instructed me to watch over her.”

“I’m countermanding him. You may be about your regular duties. Send another maid tend her.”

She was furious, mutinous, but she was an experienced servant, and she’d already said much more than she should have.

“Of course Lord Henley.”

She curtsied again and fled, and he tarried until her footsteps faded, until a girl came to take her place, then he left, too, a satisfied grin on his face.

CHAPTER TEN

The coach rattled to a halt, and Fanny jerked awake. She hadn’t meant to doze off, but she wasn’t completely recuperated, and the rocking of the carriage had been soothing. She’d slept for much of the trip.

Lord Henley had traveled on horseback, so she’d had the vehicle to herself, for which she was grateful. Given the terms of their devil’s bargain, it would have been miserable to have been enclosed with him.

She tugged at the curtain and peeked out. Apparently, they’d arrived at Henley Hall, and she was surprised to discover that it was a real house and nothing like the Duke’s ostentatious castle in London.

The building was two stories high, with lots of windows, and a tall chimney at the end. Rose bushes bloomed across the front, and out behind, she could see a small yard with a barn, a pasture, and thick woods beyond. There were no acres of manicured gardens, no pomp and circumstance, but it appeared cozy and comfortable, the sort of place where a family might happily reside.

Lord Henley was waiting on the stoop, and Peggy, the maid who’d served her in London, stood with him.

Fanny craned her neck, searching for Thomas, thinking he might come running out, but he wasn’t there, and she was extremely disappointed. Evening was fast approaching, so perhaps he was getting ready for bed. She hoped Lord Henley would let her speak with him before he was put down for the night.

A footman opened the carriage door and helped her down. She maneuvered the steps, then gazed at Lord Henley, unsure of what to say. In London, she’d agreed that they would become lovers, when she had only a limited notion of what that entailed, but she hadn’t known how to refuse his proposition. Although she’d consented to the arrangement, she had to dissuade him, but if she couldn’t, she would follow through. If a liaison with Henley was the price for access to Thomas, then she would acquiesce to his demands.

He hadn’t moved toward her, so she walked to him, and as she neared, his male appreciation was obvious. She was wearing a green dress that had been delivered the prior afternoon, along with new underclothes, shoes, and a matching shawl.

The dress was sewn from a material so delicate that she couldn’t guess what it was called. The skirt swished with each stride, and there was a scooped neckline that was much lower than anything she’d previously owned. Despite the risqué style of the garment, it was very fetching, which increased her confidence in dealing with him.

She advanced until they were toe to toe, and she dipped into a deep curtsy, but he took her arm and made her rise.

He seemed embarrassed, which confused her. By his every word and deed, he flaunted his position over her, and she’d assumed he’d want displays of respect befitting their separate stations.

“Welcome,” he said.

“Thank you for having me.”

Since he’d all but kidnapped her, it was a ludicrous charade, yet she wouldn’t chastise him in front of a servant.

“While you are here,” he stated, “you are not to be deferential to me. You’re my guest.”

“
I
am your guest?”

“Yes, and I expect you to act as any other would.”

She didn’t understand him. He’d gone out of his way to guarantee that the barriers between them were insurmountable, but if he wanted to pretend that she’d been invited, she would gladly participate in the farce.

It would be no a hardship to enjoy the pretty location, and wistfully, she wished she could live there forever. She would treat the sojourn as an overdue holiday, and if she was lucky, maybe he’d let her remain long enough that she could regroup and decide what to do next.

“You remember Peggy, don’t you?” He gestured to the maid. “I thought you might like to see a familiar face.”

“You’re very kind.” Fanny almost choked on the compliment.

He was the very antithesis of
kind
, but she wasn’t about to offer the opinion. Until she was allowed to meet with Thomas, she would be civility itself.

“I’ve asked her,” he explained, “to work as your personal maid for the length of your stay.”

“That’s not necessary, Lord Henley.”

“It is to me.”

Fanny knew the subject was closed. He was accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed, so it was pointless to contradict him.

“I’m much obliged,” she mumbled.

“You can wash and relax, then I’ll join you in an hour. We’ll share a late supper.”

“May I see Thomas first?”

He didn’t answer, but turned to Peggy. “Would you show her to her room?”

“With pleasure, Lord Henley,” Peggy said. “If you’ll come with me, Miss?”

Fanny considered arguing, but Peggy was already inside and climbing the stairs. Fanny nodded to Henley, then followed her.

Once they’d left him far behind, Fanny remarked, “What a lovely house.”

“Yes, it is, Miss,” Peggy replied.

“I was anticipating something more grand, though. Just from the sound of
Henley Hall
, I envisioned another castle like the Duke’s.”

Peggy glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, this isn’t Henley Hall.”

”It’s not? Where are we then?”

“We’re at the edge of Lord Henley’s estate.” She blushed. “It’s...well...it’s his
other
residence.”

Fanny wondered why he hadn’t taken her to his true home. What did it mean? Evidently, he was hiding her. From whom? And why? Was she free to go? Was she his captive?

“Do you know why we’re here instead of at Henley Hall?”

“I don’t have any idea.”

From her tone, Fanny was convinced that Peggy was lying, which was depressing. Fanny had hoped the other woman might be an ally.

They kept on, and shortly, Peggy escorted her into a masculine suite with heavy oak furniture, maroon drapes, and rugs. Over by the window, a table had been set with white linens, crystal goblets, and the best silver. Candles glowed in the candlesticks.

A cheery fire burned in the grate, and in front of it, there was a tray on the rug. A bottle of wine had been opened, and two glasses poured. Pillows were scattered about.

It was the most romantic sight Fanny had ever witnessed, and it disturbed her in a fashion she didn’t care to contemplate. Matters with Lord Henley were coming to a head too quickly.

Peggy noted her anxious expression, but she simply led Fanny farther into the chamber.

The second room contained a massive bed, suitable for a king. It was up on a pedestal, and it faced the large windows so that the occupants could gaze out at the forest. Beyond it was a dressing room. They walked in, and Peggy shut the door.

In the center was an enormous silver bathing tub that had been filled with hot water. Steam rose from it, and Fanny could smell the fragrant bath salts that had been added.

An outfit had been laid out for her, but it wasn’t like any she’d ever seen before. It was a green nightgown and robe made of a shiny, thin material that would hug each of her curves. The nightgown was cut low to reveal the skin between her breasts, and the two tiny straps were so narrow that she doubted they could hold the garment in place.

Fanny went over to it and nervously ran her fingers across the fabric.

Peggy murmured, “I don’t believe he has honest intentions toward you, Miss.”

“I don’t believe he does either.”

“I’d like to say that I’m not the sort to condone such a thing.”

“Neither am I,” Fanny assured her.

“I wish I could leave his employ, Miss.” She appeared wretched. “Ever since the moment he asked me to come along, I’ve considered quitting, but I need my job. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret about it. I’m unclear about what’s happening, but we’ll figure it out together.”

“Thank you, Miss. I’ll assist you however I can.”

“I’m certain you will.”

“I’ve never known him to behave like this,” Peggy claimed. “I’m amazed.”

Fanny chuckled, but wearily. “You mean he doesn’t typically abscond with innocent young ladies and drag them off to secret hideaways so he can have his wicked way with them?”

“Never before, that I’m aware of.”

“Lucky me to be the first,” Fanny retorted, saddened and furious at Henley’s high-handed manner and shabby treatment.

She was at a loss as to how to proceed. She would very much like to have a bath, but she had no clothes of her own, and regardless of what Lord Henley seemed to suppose, she wasn’t about to don the slinky nightgown he’d provided.

“When I arrived at the Duke’s mansion,” Fanny said, “I had a bag with me that contained some of my belongings. Was it found?”

“I didn’t hear anyone mention it.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll wash, then put my dress back on. I don’t have anything else, and I can’t wear those.” She pointed to the scandalous outfit.

Peggy helped her unbutton and unlace, then she exited so Fanny could strip down in private. She searched through a cupboard, which was stocked with every item a woman might need to be comfortable. After locating a brush and some combs, she pinned up her hair in a haphazard fashion, then she slipped into the water and relaxed.

She closed her eyes and must have dozed off, because she was roused by the sound of the door opening behind her. Glancing around, she expected to see Peggy, but to her astonishment, Lord Henley was lounged in the threshold. He’d changed his clothes and was casually attired in loose-fitting trousers, his coat and cravat removed, his shirt partially undone and revealing much too much male skin.

“You can’t be in here!” she sputtered.

“Yes, I can.” He grinned. “It’s my house. I can act however I please.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“I know I told you in London that I would consort with you, but I wasn’t serious!”

He laughed as she squealed with dismay and dipped down into the water. He sauntered over and rested a hip on the rim of the tub. It had never occurred to her that a man might do something so shocking, and she was struck dumb.

Frantically, she reached for a washing cloth that was folded on a nearby stool, but the tiny square of fabric couldn’t possibly do the job required of it. She clasped it to her torso, confused as to whether she should cover top or bottom, for she couldn’t cover both.

He traced his thumb across her lips and murmured, “Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, and she really didn’t.

From the start, he’d been attracted to her, when she hadn’t had the vaguest idea as to why. Perhaps it was one of those unavoidable consequences—like fate, like the plague, like death.

He bent down and kissed her on the mouth. She should have protested and pulled away, but the intimate touching, with her unclad, did something funny to her insides. She was stirred physically in a way she couldn’t fight.

He deepened the kiss, and his hand drifted to her breast and massaged her tight nipple. The contact was electrifying, and she wasn’t certain how to keep the encounter from spiraling out of control.

Fortunately, he halted and drew away, but the brief interaction had him more provoked than ever.

“I’m tired of waiting to have you,” he said. “It’s all I’ve pondered for months now.”

“It is?”