Seductive Wager (22 page)

“No, it can’t wait. My prospects may already be ruined, but if there
is
something left to salvage, it will have to be done before anyone learns that it was I, and not some nameless trollop, who ran off to France with you.” She stifled a sob. “Or would you rather I ask Valentine to recommend me for a place in one of those
houses
I hear so much about? Surely I’m qualified now.”

Brett was nearly exhausted, his temper had been sorely tried, and he was having to exert considerable effort to keep it under control. Unfortunately, he was not as mindful of what he said, and he uttered the first thought that came to his mind. “Oh for God’s sake, don’t start that again. I never heard anyone get so wrought up over a maidenhead.”

Kate sucked in her breath in a harsh rasp. “You may have taken any number of maidenheads in your depraved career, but I had only one to lose,” she exclaimed, her voice rising with each word. “Since you forced me to sacrifice it, it seems a small price to ask you to help me save my reputation. I imagine Valentine would have made you pay dearly if you had come to her. Or have you lost all interest in me now that I’ve been deflowered?”

Brett could have bitten his tongue, but he knew there was no use trying to explain to Kate just now. In her present mood, she was likely to take any apology as further proof of his depravity. Still, even though his mind was considerably irritated by Kate’s prickly temper and his limbs ached from being overtired, his body would not allow him to forget its consuming desire for her.

“You’ve got to be the most vexing female I’ve ever met, but all I have to do is look at you and it doesn’t matter. Do you have any idea how maddening it is to have you so close and be unable to do more than turn my head in your direction? I would give a year’s income to stop that scolding mouth with kisses, crush you in my arms, and make love to you all night long.”

Kate flushed scarlet in spite of herself. “Can’t you ever think of anything besides your lusts? Has any woman ever been more to you than a passionate kiss and a tumble in the bed?”

“Not yet,” he replied, and smiled so dazzlingly she thought her knees would give way.

Kate was speechless. How could he think she wanted nothing more out of life than to be mauled by someone like himself? It was beyond her comprehension. It ought to be beyond
anybody’s
comprehension.

“I want more than that,” she finally said. “I don’t know how and I don’t know where, but I’m going to get it. And you are going to help me.” She turned on her heel and flung out of the room, slamming the door so hard Nancy heard it in the kitchen.

Brett swore at the closed door. What did she mean by saying he was going to help her? He wasn’t about to be ruled by any woman, particularly not a girl who flounced out of rooms like a hoyden and was continually setting her mind in opposition to his. She was a tasty morsel, but there were other tidbits just as tempting to be had for less trouble.

But as the heat of his displeasure evaporated, he saw again that young and unspoiled body, her perfect face and figure, and the lithe, graceful movement that promised delights beyond those he had experienced that first night. The more he thought about her, the more he realized he wanted to keep her with him. He hesitated when he thought of the complications that would cause, but he was even more unwilling to contemplate being without her.

He might as well use the time while he was recovering and waiting for answers to his letters to get on better terms with her. He always preferred willing partners. The pleasure was much more intense when it was shared. He remembered her responses that night and his senses warmed again. Her body, willing even if her mind still held back, had awakened at his touch and made a stormy effort to match his own passion. He knew she was as yet unschooled in the pleasures of love, but when she had learned to revel in the mysteries and glory in the exultation of her senses, she would be a partner worthy of his skill.
Yes,
he thought, as he drifted off to sleep again,
I might as well try to make her like me more. While I’m tied to this bed, there’s not much more I can do.

All that evening and most of the next day Kate treated him with cool formality, but it was impossible for any woman to resist Brett when he exerted himself to be charming, and her feelings toward him started to soften before midafternoon. Brett didn’t make the mistake of changing his attitude toward her; that would only have made her suspicious and even more distrustful, but he was careful not to make any remarks which might make her angry. He had reluctantly come to the conclusion that even though she had led a cloistered life, she had developed some pretty novel ideas about her own abilities and worth. The only thing she hadn’t yet realized was the power of her beauty. Once she knew the full extent of that, Brett reflected grimly, he wouldn’t be able to keep her to himself any longer; he determined right then he would not go to Paris.

Kate didn’t unbend completely toward him or pretend she wasn’t still extremely angry, but she did start to talk to him again. Once she tried to bring up the subject of her future, but he put her off.

“I’m waiting for answers to my letters. Once I have them, I’ll be happy to help you go anywhere you want.” Since he didn’t bother to explain what kind of letters he had written and to whom they were addressed, she knew no more than before. She decided to forgo mentioning it again in the hopes of getting something definite out of him the next day, but she was doomed to disappointment. Brett spent most of the next day teaching her how to handle a pistol and a dagger.

“If you’re going to go about shooting highwaymen, you should learn how to use a pistol correctly.” Kate wasn’t afraid of an unloaded pistol and she quickly mastered its handling. “I’ll give you some ammunition as soon as we can get outside,” Brett promised, “and then we’ll see what you can do.”

Kate was pleased with her progress, but was relieved to change to a dagger when all the possibilities of an unloaded pistol had been exhausted. It also postponed until another day the question of what Valentine and the villagers would say about a pistol being fired virtually at their back doors.

After spending the next morning in further practice with the pistol and dagger, Brett waited until after lunch to introduce Kate to the sword. She didn’t care for it in the least, but Brett kept her at it because it prevented her from trying to reopen the discussion about her departure and also gave him a chance to tease her into a more amiable attitude toward him.

“Once you become more adept, you can carry a pistol in your muff and a dagger in your garter,” Brett laughingly suggested.

“I’d prefer not to go about armed to the teeth,” she replied, but Brett smiled at her in a way that brought the blood to her cheeks. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have to carry them to use on you,” she threatened.

“The sword also?”

“I’m not good enough with that, but I could always plunge it into your heart while you slept,” she added reflectively.

“You’re a bloodthirsty wench. Didn’t your mother tell you that proper girls don’t think of such things?”

Kate’s smile vanished. “What my mother taught me would probably shock you. It’s something I’d rather forget.”

Brett did his best to get her to explain that remark, but she refused to talk about her mother at all. Instead, she asked him to show her a particular pass with the sword again.

“Until I can get up from this bed, I’m going to have to enlist Charles’s help. It’s impossible to teach swordplay lying down, even if I do have half the pillows in the inn behind my back.”

Their good understanding continued for two more days. They spent more time with the weapons, Charles even brought a dart board for her to use as a target with the dagger, and he taught her to play cards. She read to him occasionally, but that bored him and he fell asleep.

Valentine did her best to see they weren’t disturbed. She never stayed more than a few minutes herself and always seemed to discover some urgent need for Charles whenever he joined them. Kate didn’t realize they were being thrown together, but Brett did and wondered what Valentine was up to. He knew she was a shrewd observer who never missed anything for long, particularly if the intention was to keep it from her. She was up to some mischief, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. After all, he couldn’t order her to stay in her room when it was her own inn.

The next day was particularly sunny and Dr. Burton agreed to let Brett spend some time in the garden if he would stay in his chair. “I don’t want you walking unassisted, and you’re not to stay out long. It could be fatal if you were to develop a chill. It’s really too early to be getting up, but a little exercise and sunshine might do you good.”

After lunch, therefore, Valentine ordered at least half the furniture in the inn carried out to the garden where they spent the next two hours luxuriating in the sun and trying to decide what to do with Kate’s inheritance. Kate still thought of herself as penniless, so when Valentine asked what she was going to do with her castle, she was nonplussed.

“What castle are you talking about?” she asked in genuine bewilderment.

“Your home. You said you had no family. Did you not inherit?”

Kate looked dumbfounded. “I don’t know. I mean,
I never
knew. No one ever said anything about it.”

“It’s yours,” Brett said unexpectedly. “It’s not entailed.”

“How do you know?” she demanded, her voice sharp and metallic.

“Your brother’s lawyer told us when he explained why Martin couldn’t bet his estate.”

“Bet what estate?” Valentine exclaimed, agog with curiosity. Brett didn’t stop to explain.

“You’re probably a very rich woman.” He didn’t sound the least bit pleased by the prospect. “I don’t know why I didn’t think to mention it before. I suppose my illness drove it out of my mind.”

Valentine didn’t understand half of what Brett was talking about, but she understood enough to know Kate was not the poor, dependent girl everyone thought her to be, and she could tell Brett didn’t like the change. She would have been ready to bet her best necklace he wouldn’t let her go, but if she had money in her own right, how was he going to stop her? She looked at the two young people, each lost in their own thoughts, and her heart chuckled with anticipation. There were going to be some fireworks before this day was out.

“If this castle is yours,” Valentine said, merriment in her eyes, “you must chase away the old memories. Have you a moat and drawbridge?” Kate smiled and shook her head. “But surely you have a dungeon. You can bury the skeletons and paint it bright yellow.” Gradually Kate responded to Valentine’s efforts to make her laugh, and within minutes they were remaking torture chambers into wine cellars, using racks for quilting frames, branding irons to create needlepoint designs, and the iron manacles to hang up curing hams.

Brett was disgusted at
the
turn in the conversation and took no part in it, but he was no more pleased when Charles reported some letters had arrived for him, and he excused himself with visible reluctance. Oddly enough, the ladies found nothing seemed quite so funny after he’d gone, and they soon went inside.

Some very intensive thought took place in their three rooms that afternoon.

Valentine’s mind was set on pure mischief; she had decided that Brett should marry Kate. The poor girl obviously adored him—she didn’t have a single thought in her head that wasn’t bound up in Brett—yet she wouldn’t give in to him all the time. Valentine understood Brett well enough to know that part of the reason he held women in such contempt was that they had done exactly what he wanted all his life. Kate loved him completely and passionately, but she would fight him every step of the way before she would let him ignore her feelings and reject her judgment.

Brett wasn’t used to
any
opposition, and Valentine positively burned to see him brought to his knees by a woman strong enough to give him back word for word and deed for deed. She felt sure Brett would never marry anyone who did not fight against his suffocating iron will. He might
think
he only wanted someone who would provide food for his lusts and satisfaction for his passions, but he would only bestow his name on a woman whose character he admired and whose strength he respected.

Valentine adored strong men and secretly wanted to be dominated herself, but she was a very forceful woman and had ultimately controlled the men who had loved her. Naturally it was too much for her self-control to stand by and see Brett escape without being brought to heel. She promised herself she would attend their wedding if she had to walk all the way to London.

Kate derived virtually no pleasure from her thoughts. She found it impossible to believe Ryehill was hers. She had never known who inherited after Martin, but she had never been given any reason to think it would be hers. Now she paced her room trying to ignore the nagging fear that some obscure cousin would materialize and snatch it from her before she learned if Martin had left her anything to inherit besides debts.

But she would have to wait until she got back to London and could see her uncle to answer that question. If it turned out there was something left after the debts had been paid, then all her problems would be solved. She didn’t need much money; even a small amount would enable her to live quietly somewhere far away from the prying eyes of society. She had always known, though she hadn’t admitted it to herself because of the terrible consequences, that the story of her leaving Ryehill would someday get out, maybe not now or all at one time, but once people learned she had gone with Brett unchaperoned, her reputation would be ruined and society would never accept her. If she had enough money to live, it wouldn’t matter.