Seducing the Beast (17 page)

“
I
did,” she yelled back at him, standing her ground as he strode toward her.

“He’s the most generous man I know. He would do anything for those in his care, spare no expense.”

“Generous indeed!”

He wanted her silenced now, he wanted her to regret the things she said of him, her sharp-tongued insults. “He’s a good man. If anything, he spoils his
poor
brother. You know nothing of his struggles to raise his brother in this world. When you’re born into a fortune and a title, there are many, many responsibilities that come with it and many,” he barked in her face, “many folk who resent you for what you have, so they cheat, slander and steal from you. No one can be trusted. Everyone has a scheme, an agenda, everyone wants a favor from you and they care not who you really are, because all they see when they look at you is gold coin and an opportunity.”

“Forgive me if I shed no tears for the almighty, all-knowing Earl of Swafford,” she cried. “He meddles in his brother’s affairs under the guise of doing it for Gabriel’s own good, but truly because he has no affairs of his own.”

His hands clenched into fists, hung heavy at his sides. “Gabriel is constantly at risk from kidnappers. The earl has lived most his life with that knowledge. Always he must be on his guard. How can he protect his brother now?”

“Perhaps Gabriel can protect himself. He’s a grown man, not a boy.”

He glared at her, shoulders flexing. She did not retreat.

“I suppose this sense of duty to the earl will stand between us,” she said, arms folded. “You should leave him,” she added, her eyes azure. “He doesn’t deserve your fealty.”

Suddenly his proud, rigid self-assurance faltered, severely stumbled, in fact. He swept one trembling hand over his face. “I couldn’t leave him, even if I wanted to. Even if I wanted another life, there’s nothing I can do to change it.” Abruptly ending the quarrel, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. Whoever she was, whatever she was, in that moment he needed her there. “If I could walk in another man’s boots, I would. Indeed, these last few days with you, limpet, I have done so.”

Much to his chagrin, he realized it likely he would let her get away with anything. Again he flirted with the concept of keeping a woman for his pleasure. He’d never before felt the need for a mistress.

That was before he plucked this bossy, impertinent little madam out of the river Thames. In thirty-five years he’d never known a dilemma like this.

* * * *

Unaccustomed to having an argument so swiftly put aside, Maddie would have preferred to rage and scream, thrashing her anger out so it wouldn’t fester inside. Now, her temper prevented from taking a natural course, it lay dormant inside. The argument between them was left for now.

Gregory came up to the cottage to collect his correspondence, and Sally came too that night. During the visit, Maddie was banished to the pantry because Griff was adamant she not parade back and forth in her shift before anyone other than him. She heard him ask Gregory about some clothes for her and the old steward said they’d been ordered.

She was relieved not to have to go home in her torn shift and some borrowed men’s clothes. There would be no explaining that one, she thought with a smile.

“Underthings too,” Griff was saying. “Proper, ladylike things. Frilly whatnots. And a corset.”

Now her smile wavered. Having gone the last few blissful days untethered and free, she had no intention of being hoisted up, strapped in and flattened again. He must have heard her gasp of frustration through the pantry door, because then he raised his voice and said, “She’ll be dressed like a lady from now on, not a little heathen.”

Sally asked, “Is she staying?”

“I don’t know. No, she can’t stay...’tis nothing permanent…I’ve yet to decide.”

“You’ll need somewhere to keep her. If she stays,”
said Gregory.

“I know little of these things. Never kept one before.”

“She’ll need feeding. They all do.”

“And grooming,” Griff added dryly.

“Aye, that she will.” Sally giggled.

“She’s a highly strung mount and I’m not certain her temperament suits me.”

“A strong, spirited filly, Master Griff, would do you a world of good,” said Sally.

“She’s skittish and flighty…and damned willful,” he grumbled. “Let me think on it. I’ve much on my mind “

He was thinking of keeping her, letting her stay? Excitement ran pitter-pat up and down her veins, like little toddlers escaped from an overworked nurse. But she couldn’t stay with him, could she? Unless, of course, he meant to marry her and make her an honest woman, where so many other good men wouldn’t dare try.

Once they were gone, she was released from the pantry and immediately complained about being compared to a horse. Not listening, however, he scratched his chin and paced across the flagged floor. Halting behind a chair, he rested his hands on the back of it, bade her sit and then walked around to crouch before her. He laid his hands on her knees, fingers spread. His hands were warm and weighty through the thin material of her shift and, once again, his touch stirred her wicked pixies into a joyful jig.

“I must know,” he said, his voice low, “who you are and where you come from.”

Crisply, she pointed out, “After the intimacy we shared, it seems a moot point to make polite inquiries now into my background.”

“Your family must be trying to find you.”

“I doubt it.” She sighed, thinking of Grace’s accusations.

“Tell me your name, wench.” He paused. “The Earl of Swafford wants to know it.”

She leaned back, arms folded, disappointment cold and heavy in her heart. “
He
wants to know? Aren’t you going to ask me to marry you? You said to Gregory--”

“Marry you?” He sputtered with laughter. “Why would I want a wife? What would I do with her? I’ve no money, no house. You know that. You know who I am, remember?”

She nodded, her mouth dry.

He frowned suddenly. “You said you would ask me for no promises. Those were your words.”

He was right, of course. For a moment she’d let herself get carried away. “Yes,” she said, lashes lowered.

His fingertips made little indents in her knees. “Tell me,” he demanded huskily, “who sent you here?”

“No one.”

“A woman of wit and intelligence, who reads and writes, who cares that a man wears his shirt to the table, a woman who rises early to pick flowers and cook bacon--this is not a woman who leaves her life behind one day to throw herself on the mercy of a complete stranger.”

“You are not a stranger to me,” she said simply. It was true. Somehow he never had been.

* * * *

With that one comment she breached his defenses, piercing the Swafford armor with a slender blade of truth. He felt her tremble, but not with fear. Her eyes were too sultry, too ripe with desire, and her lips parted as if they burst apart unable to hold in another breath.

He realized, bemused, that he crouched at her feet like a besotted fool. Never had he done this--considered opening his life, even to some partial degree, for a woman. Yet whatever the world thought of him, he did not casually deflower maidens. Neither had he ever felt the rush of pleasure she gave him simply when she sat near.

Standing swiftly, he turned his back, clawing through his hair. He looked at her over his shoulder, exasperated, bewildered. “What am I going to do with you?”

Slowly her lips turned up in a hopeful smile. “My father says that a lot, but when you say it, my heart beats so hard I feel it in my fingertips.”

How did she do it?

How did one smiling mouth deceive so effortlessly?

* * * *

The next morning he was gone when she woke. Thinking him outside with his horse, she came downstairs humming, and when there was a tap at the door, she ran to it, wondering why he didn’t just come in. Her smile fell hard.

“He says I’m to take you up to the big house,” Gregory said, doffing his cap. “My Sally left you a set of clothes.” He pointed one gnarled finger over her shoulder.

A folded dove-gray gown waited there on the table. “Clothes?” she mumbled, as if she did not know what they were.

“Aye, my lady,” he said patiently. “The others haven’t come yet, so that one must do for now. My Sally will come up and dress you.” As he turned away, she asked where Griff had gone.

“Up to the big house, my lady.”

She didn’t understand at first, then she realized he must have gone on ahead to meet the Earl--perhaps try to smooth things over. Or else he’d been summoned there to be punished.

“Don’t worry, my lady,” said Gregory, seeing her expression. “He left instructions for you to follow.”

“Instructions?”

“He wrote them out, my lady. My Sally tucked them inside the gown for you.” With a hasty bow, he scuttled off to find his wife.

* * * *

There were only four instructions, as it turned out. She was surprised there were not a great many more.

I. Speak to no servants except Gregory.

II. Do exactly as he says. Lest you not understand, let me repeat; (and this was underscored thickly) Under No Circumstances Will You Defy Gregory or Cause Him Any Trouble.

III. Wear the clothes Sally has provided. All of them.

IV. Use the bath provided.

Indignant, she stared at the last line. “He has some gall,” she exclaimed breathlessly to Sally, who rubbed her dry with a large woolen cloth. “As if he even knows what a bath is! I’ve ridden horses that smell sweeter.”

Helping her into a clean, new shift, the old lady sympathized, tut-tutting and cooing, only in the way a mother would to soothe a fractious child--one whose tantrums could be distracted by a fruit sucket.

“And I shan’t be told where to go and what to do,” Maddie cried. “He seems to think the only person entitled to their own life, is the…” She gasped for air as the new corset laces tightened another half inch. “Damnable…Earl of…Swafford.” It was not an easy name to say with one’s breath squeezed out of one’s lungs.

“Yes, my lady.”

Flinging her wet hair aside, Maddie frowned over her shoulder, but the old lady beamed pleasantly, as if oblivious to her charge’s bad mood.

“We must look our best, my lady, for the earl, mustn’t we?”

“The earl? As if I care what--” She stopped, losing the will to speak.

This was why Griff wanted her clean and dressed. She was to be taken to the ‘big house’, where the earl meant to interrogate her about Gabriel and Eustacia’s escape. Her heart skipped two or three beats before it slammed hard and hectic in her chest, making up for the pause.

Hands on her waist, she pulled her shoulders back, straightened her spine. Time to face the ogre bravely, as she’d always planned. Someone must speak up for her relatives, in whose lives he so heartlessly meddled. Because of him, Eustacia had been forced to flee with her lover, like a thief in the night, and Nathaniel likely eaten by cannibals in some Hellish wilderness to whence he was exiled. Every misfortune her family suffered was a consequence of the earl’s temper, this wretched belief that he was always right.

Sally helped her into the bodice, regretting it was a little small. “You’re a healthy young lady, to be sure.”

“I wish I was not,” Maddie replied, glaring resentfully down at her bosom.

“Now, now, my lady,” Sally cooed, “we should be thankful for what God gives us.”

“All the good it’s done me,” she replied.

The last adjustments made, the sleeves tied, Sally exclaimed, “You’re from good, strong, healthy stock, my lady. As I said to him,” she said as she patted down the sleeves in a motherly way, “that young lady is made for pleasure and no mistake. And do you know what he said? Quiet like and solemn, the way he is, he said to me,
for my pleasure, Sally--
just like that--
for my pleasure, and that’s why I mean to keep her
.” She covered her mouth with one hand and whispered. “He never kept a woman before. Oh, there were some on the estate trying to catch his eye, and I daresay he took his pleasure when he fancied--”

“I don’t care to hear it,” Maddie cried, the mewling cub of jealousy awoken.

“I’m sorry, my lady. Oh dear, I always put my foot in my mouth, I do.”

Gregory appeared in the doorway, and seeing their charge flustered and upset, blamed his wife. “Your tongue does run on, Sally. What did I tell you this morn, eh?”

“Do not be angry with your wife,” Maddie urged. “She said nothing wrong.”

Sally gave her a grateful look, folding her hands together meekly.

“Aye…well…” Gregory still frowned at his wife, who looked at the ground. “If you’re ready, my lady, I have the horse and cart harnessed in the yard.”

She took one last look around at their little haven, thinking of what Sally said about other women, him taking his pleasure as he fancied it. Yes, no doubt there were many women willing, at the crook of his finger, to tumble in the hay with him.

Perhaps, in his eyes, she was no more significant.

* * * *

Much of the journey passed in silence. Maddie felt too sorry for herself and Gregory was evidently instructed to say as little as possible, but when the sun showed its face through the clouds, the beauty of nature shook her out of the doldrums. They passed through heath land and alongside marshes, under the shadow of broad oaks, then across a bridge over a stream. A slight breeze ruffled the reeds and bulrushes along the bank side. The water meandered along, lapping gently at the emerald-stained arches of the bridge.

“Here we are,” said Gregory. “Starling’s Roost.”

It was a vast square structure of mellow stone, nestled amid gently rounded lawns and oak-clad hills. They drove along a winding lane bordered by tall spruce trees that striped their route with shadows. There was a lake with swans upon it and great, languid willows beside, arching their delicate limbs to the water. Behind the house lay a broad patch of heath land, dotted with lush purple and pink. Industrious birds darted above it, filling the air with song.