Perilous Risk (27 page)

“How could you ever imagine you had the right to do this?”

“The ends justified the means.”

“Nothing could justify this. I shall never forgive you.” Her throat closed up and she took a deep breath, swallowing hard. “Never.”

His hand tightened on hers. “Don’t say such things, Rebecca.”

“I mean it.
Never!
”

“Of course you shall forgive me.”

He spoke the last in a calm, self-assured tone.

Perhaps he is quite mad.

The thought sent renewed icy tentacles into her heart. The sense of queasiness twisted through her belly again. Oh God, she had sought safety with a madman!

He leant over her.

She pressed her back into the corner where the seat met the carriage wall. “Please, don’t …”

“Shh…” He touched her face. “You will forgive me.” He stroked his fingertips down her cheek. “You will forgive me because you must. You will have no choice.”

“No, don’t hurt me.” Her voice was high-pitched, full of fear. She no longer cared, she was utterly frightened.

He reached up and flipped the leather curtains open. Sunlight filtered in through the sheer white muslin curtain that remained over the window. Framed by long, thick black lashes, his eyes were so dilated that little of the dark blue irises showed, as though he were intoxicated—or medicated. His heavy yet elegantly shaped brows, like bold strokes of ink, drew together fiercely. “You’re afraid of me.” He said this incredulously, as though it couldn’t possibly be true.

“Of course I am afraid of you.” She swallowed back the acridness at the back of her throat. “Any sane woman would be.”

“Back at that Devon inn, you gave me everything. I could have sworn that you trusted me completely. Why are you afraid of me now?”

Throat tight and burning, she just stared at him. She didn’t want any of what Jon had said to be true. She didn’t want to believe he had actually ordered his men to abduct her. She wished, desperately, that she could simply remember her time with Stephen over the past days as an exciting carnal adventure. She didn’t wish to have to think badly of him, to fear him, to hate him. Oh, why did things have to be this way?

“What did Ruel say to you?” His words cut into her thoughts.

“That you are Barnet’s…
creature
.”

Humour lit his eyes and he didn’t quite smile… No. it was more of a soft, amused snarl.

Chills raced over her skull, down her nape and along her spine. But the chills were also heated. Her nipples drew into tight points and a definite tingle spread into her belly. Her body was betraying her, becoming open to the seductive allure of her gorgeous tormenter.

“Are you his creature?”

He chuckled, the sound rich and deep.

“No, don’t laugh at me!” Thoughtlessly, she thrust her hands out and shoved at his broad shoulders.

He laughed harder, the sound vibrated into her bones, a sensation that made even more heat tingle through her belly. The indignity of that sexual response made her anger flare hotter. She forgot her fear. “Stop laughing!” she glared at him.

His face contorted in an expression of contrite tenderness. “No, sweeting, I am not the Earl of Barnet’s creature.”

She could feel her traitorous heart, softening to him. She balled her fists, struggling against the rush of tenderness and glared at him harder. “You
fucked
Maria Seymour!”

His eyes widened, just a fraction. If they hadn’t been sitting so close, she might have missed that sign of his shock.

The barest hint of a smile graced his sensual mouth. “Half of Mayfair has fucked Maria Seymour.”

Rage boiled through her blood. “Go to the devil.”

He took her hand.

She tried to jerk it out of his grasp but he held firm. He worked a moment, trying to unfurl her fist and she fought just as hard to resist.

He sighed. “See, my beautiful girl, you will forgive me for today’s little drama.”

His self-assurance set her ire soaring. Her face was hot, so hot with her rising anger. “Why do you believe I shall forgive you?”

“Because you love me.”

Love? She
loved
him?

“Ha!” The sound exploded from her. The unbelievable arrogance of the man!

He turned her hand over and put his lips to the place where her tightly closed fingers met her palm. She tried to jerk her hand back but he held firm. Hot wet danced over her knuckles. His tongue, licking her, teasing her…oh, dear sweet heaven. Currents, like lightning, crackled through her nerves, her blood.

No, no, no!

She would not feel for him. Nothing for him but anger. She curled her lip upward. “Maria Seymour! How could you plant your cock in that she-devil?”

“Forget her.”

She scowled. “Forget her? You fuck the woman who wants to see me hang and you expect me to forget—” she snapped her thumb and forefinger. “—just like that.”

The corners of his sensual mouth lifted.

“What the devil are you smiling about?”

“You love me.”

“I do not.”

“You wouldn’t be so jealous, if you didn’t love me.”

“This isn’t about
jealousy
.”

He lifted his jet brows, a mocking expression of surprise. “It’s not?”

“No, it is not.”

“Then what precisely has precipitated this little outburst?”

“Your want of good taste and sensible judgement.” Her forehead began to ache as her scowl deepened. She knew she should shut her mouth whilst she was in the lead but she couldn’t stop the flow of words. “When did it happen?”

He regarded her for several moments, his expression growing thoughtful and oddly tender. “In the Dragoons.”

“What?”

“Years ago,” he said in a patient tone. “We fell in love with each other, you and I.”

She gaped at him, completely taken aback. Did he really believe that?

He gazed back at her calmly. Sincerely.

Dear heavens. He did seem to believe it.

She shook her head. “No, I mean when did you crawl between that harpy’s legs?”

“Rebecca, please,” he chided her.

“When?” she insisted.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!”

“I find the topic of Maria Seymour and her legs tedious.” He touched her lower lip, tracing his fingertip along slowly. “When I am with you, I don’t want to think about anyone or anything else.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Touch me.”

“You’re mine. To have, to hold, to touch, to torment, whatever I choose.”

With the opiate holding the rat in his guts at bay, the ungodly burning that had tormented Stephen all during the previous night and morning was gone. The mutton stew was laden with carrots, potatoes and onions that must have been slow cooked with especial care for the taste was exceptionally rich. He hadn’t enjoyed a meal this much in some time.

Or was it just that he was so relieved to have her back safely with him?

Or that he felt so damned happy whenever he was near her, no matter the circumstances?

Whatever the reason, he ate with pleasure and it was only when his spoon scraped the bottom of the wooden bowl that he looked up to find Rebecca gazing off into space.

Damn. She still was in a shock of sorts. He had ordered his men to treat her gently. And Gerard had wilfully disregarded that order. That meant he could no longer be trusted. Something had happened there. Gerard was showing rebellion.

Something nagged at Stephen about that.

But he’d taken far too much opiate today. He hadn’t wanted to risk collapsing into a retching mass of pain in front of Rebecca. God, he was rather intoxicated, wasn’t he? Christ, he had gushed all that nonsense at her about love. Just when she was least open to hearing it.

He shook his head slightly trying to clear his mind. The chamber spun and a wave of giddiness washed over him. He rubbed his eyes and attempted to focus his thoughts.

It was so devilishly hard.

Gerard’s treatment of Rebecca.

Yes, right, that was it.

Such men were invaluable for the work Stephen did but they were also like curs, they needed harsh treatment and when they went bad, they had to be dealt with as any mad dog.

Stephen didn’t have the time to devote to the matter presently and so he had sent Gerard back to London on a fictional errand. He would have to deal with the man more permanently but later. Right now, he just wanted him as far from Rebecca as possible.

Rebecca looked up. Her pale eyes were glassy, the blue looked washed out, closer to grey. Her lips were pallid, appearing dry, and her cheeks were missing their usual delicate blush. Her soup remained untouched.

The rough treatment had left its mark on her. Tenderness gripped his heart. He’d have to do a lot of making up to her in order to atone for it. “What’s the matter, sweeting?”

“I should send a note to Lady Ruel. I was to accompany her and Viscount Midhurst to Blackmore Castle. Her daughters are ill and she wished to shield the heir from infection.”

“I know.”

“Oh, yes, you’ve a spy in their house.” Her tartness cut into him.

“There’s no need for you to send a note. I already sent one, making your excuses and explaining that you’re with me and will remain so for the time being.”

Her mouth fell open. “You did what?”

“I sent Ruel a message, I let him know the situation and that you are safe with me.”

“Ha! He despises you, he warned me about you. He will never think I am
safe
in your company.”

The subject of the Earl of Ruel began to pall. He gestured to her bowl. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She didn’t reply but glanced to the window.

“Rebecca,” he said, putting an edge into his voice.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes slowly moving to his.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

She lifted one shoulder, weakly. Then she glanced at his bowl. “Do you want my portion?”

“I want you to eat something.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly.”

Damn and blast! She could be so infuriating. He sighed, trying to release the sudden increasing tension rising in his guts. “In any case, the Earl of Ruel will have no time or consideration to worry over you much.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Lady Ruel was so overset at your unexplained disappearance, along with that of the boy on the beach, that her lord disregarded their agreed upon quarantine and dared to take her into his arms. He then discovered her to be burning with fever. Shortly after, she collapsed into her bed, in delirium. His hands are quite full at the moment.”

A pained expression contorted her features. “Oh, dear God, if you had not abducted me, I would be able to help her.”

He hardened himself against the increasing feeling of tenderness. He made his voice firm and forbidding. “Your help shall not be needed. Lord Ruel has sent for the best physician from Mayfair and paid a fortune to have him come to Devon to attend her.”

“She will hate that. She distrusts doctors. She trusts me, if I were there, I could assure her that—”

He lifted a forestalling hand and spoke over her. “It’s Ruel’s problem. Not yours.”

She compressed her lips and stared at him for several moments. “Let me go to her.”

She had made her voice soft, pleading.

Again, he had to harden himself. “No, I am afraid I cannot do that.”

The hurt look on her face slashed into his heart. Her shoulders sank and she slumped against her chair’s back. “You will not. But you could.”

“No, I cannot. I do not know what the Earl of Barnet wants with you. And until I do, I dare not allow you out of my protective custody.”

Her eyes widened and she went a degree paler. “
Protective custody
? How ominous and official you make that sound.”

“It is the truth.”

“You certainly think much of your power.”

“I told you that I work for the Home Office.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Then know that I have the authority to act as I do. If you escape me, I have the full authority and power to recapture you and detain you as long as I see fit.”

“That’s not legal! I have committed no crime.”

“It is a power beyond the law. No one shall interfere. But if you were to leave my custody and find yourself taken by the official authorities, then I might have a thorny time gaining you back. I would regain you eventually but you might come to some harm in the meantime and I don’t want to risk that.”

“Jon told me not to worry. He said that he will deal with Maria and afterwards, she won’t dare to pursue this matter.”

“And if he doesn’t succeed in that? What then? What solution does the Earl of Ruel offer?”

Her expression hardened. “Jon says that no one would believe me if I did testify that he had lain with other men. He says no one in the House of Lords would ever take on the investigation of such a case.”