The Countess and the Cavalier (Hearts in Hiding 4)

Reynolds slithered off her and onto the floor with a thud. He seemed unfazed at the interruption and as he lay on his back Charles saw that him fumbling to put away his flaccid cock. Thank God the man was drunk. Just not as drunk as Charles might have hoped for he dragged himself into a chair by the fire and regarded Charles keenly.

“You were so long about your business, Trethveyan, I thought I’d get the lady’s juices flowing!” He laced his hands over his rounded belly. “Were you were planning to make a meal of it, then, rather than a quick entrance? I know how much you’ve been anticipating this. It was your choice to take Drummond, instead of Beadnall Place. Revenge is as fine a motivation as any.”

Charles turned at Elizabeth’s faint intake of breath. To speak the truth in front of Reynolds risked the lady’s life.

Reynolds licked his lips as Elizabeth sat, visibly shaking, upon the bed and adjusted her drab skirts and white apron. Her glorious hair was in disarray, spilling over the bosom of her dress in golden ripples and Charles was speared by the most extraordinary lust he’d ever known, immediately accompanied by shame.

Then rage as Reynolds sneered, “Trethveyan has been nursing a grudge these eight years for the way you led him such a merry dance only to dash his hopes with the cruellest of rejections.” Reynolds waved an arm at Charles. “He’s not stopped talking of revenge though Beadnall offered less resistance. Now L

ady Drummond, your fate is in the hands of gallant Captain Trethveyan whose handsome inducements to swap places with me means your freedom is now reliant on pleasing him, not me.” He chuckled as he rose and made for the door. “See how greedily he eyes you. Make sure you give him the ride of his life, Lady Drummond. Your life depends upon it.”

The heavy door closed and the moment Charles had dreamed of all these long years was upon him.

Except that Elizabeth faced him from beside the bed, expression cold and wary, and behind the door Reynolds crouched, listening, his eye to the keyhole. Of this, Charles was horribly certain.

4

Elizabeth had learned to take refuge from reality by adopting a cool façade that masked her real feelings. Had her father known just what wilfulness lurked in his daughter’s breast, he’d have whipped her every day.

The month she’d met Charles, though, he had beaten her every day as she’d continued her intransigent stand against his authority. Charles, the handsome, gallant Cavalier she’d met by chance in the forest wanted her for his wife and, having tasted real happiness for the first time in her seventeen years, Elizabeth was determined to fight.

Until she’d met the handsome courtier she’d known nothing of love. Charles had shown her for the first time that men possessed a softer side. The sweet caresses and gentle kisses with which he’d wooed her had grown in mutual ardour. Their longing for a future together had spawned a fierce determination to push aside all opposition and secure a betrothal sanctioned by Elizabeth’s father, but he had already selected Silas Drummond, whose lands adjoined his, as his daughter’s future husband. Not until Elizabeth had pitted her will against her father’s for the first time had she realised he would stop at nothing to ensure her obedience.

Now Charles was before her, alone in her bedroom, and if it had been eight years ago and their wedding night she’d have been the planet’s most supremely grateful and joyful bride.

She faced him, unsmiling, as she gripped the bedpost. How different from the days when the soft whinny of his horse would bring her running from her hiding place in the forest and into his arms. Two wonderful, joyful weeks had brought the sun into her life where before there’d been only darkness. She’d felt no such love before or since.

But how much can a girl know a man in two weeks, when all is sunshine and kisses?

Elizabeth did not know him as she fixed her gaze upon his handsome face, leaner now, and with eyes that held depths of experience unknown to him as a carefree viscount’s son of twenty-two. Her heart roiled at the knowledge of what had driven him here. Had war so hardened him?

“So you’ve come to claim your revenge, Captain Trethveyan.” She might as well state it boldly and give him the chance to refute it. If the lines of his face softened at the charge and he swept her into his arms, she could forgive him anything. For years her body had cried out for his, memories of what they’d shared shielding her against Silas’ determined assaults and tormenting her dreams. Now he was here, but not as her saviour. Not as her lover.

He stared at her and, if she hadn’t known otherwise, she’d have said it was with longing. Longing, though, to claim recompense from the woman he believed had spurned him? He flicked a glance at the doorway as he took a step towards her.

“For eight long years I’ve thought of little else but you, Elizabeth.” His breathing was slow and heavy. “Of this,” he added, pulling her to him so that she was caught in his strong embrace.

Her heart rate accelerated. At the same time as she feared him and what he was about to do, she was exhilarated by his closeness. Closing her eyes a second, she breathed in the scent of pine needles and his own manly essence, just as she’d remembered for all these years.

He lowered his face, his expression hard, not filled with the loving pleasure she so wished for. She’d give him anything he wanted—freely and joyfully—if he just looked at her like he’d once done. Was he really a man capable of such revenge? Would he force himself on a woman because she’d rejected him? It did not seem to ring true, though she’d admit with the painful hindsight of experience that she knew nothing of men—and too much, she amended, bitterly.

When he brought his face even closer she thought he was about to take possession of her lips as the prelude to mastering her body and she tensed, for this was not how she’d dreamed it would be. Not the quick, brutal coupling that was Silas’ brand of lovemaking. She’d heard her women talk of languid exploration in a man’s arms and their chatter had filled her head with memories of a softer time in her life. So brief, so long ago.

“Say nothing, just nod if you agree.” His rapid whispering readjusted her landscape and brought confusion. She felt her eyes widening as he went on, quickly, his sweet breath hot and urgent in her ear. “Reynolds is at the keyhole because revenge is sport to him. He wants to see your husband humiliated, through you.”

Relief made her sag against him as he went on, “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything, Elizabeth, though, if you cannot bring yourself to do this, tell me now. One nod, that you accept the charade to be played out to satisfy Reynolds that there is no finer feeling behind that act, which I swear before Almighty God is what I always wanted to be sanctioned by your father in the eyes of the Church.”

Slowly, Elizabeth nodded once. “This is war,” she whispered, simply, “and I want to live. I’ll struggle and scream as I would if it were Reynolds but you have my permission to take me. I’ve dreamed of it.” She said it so he could be under no illusions as to her feelings and was gratified by the brief shock that crossed his face. Immediately she tried to pull out of his arms. “You betrayed me!” she shrieked. “By God, I rue the day I set eyes on you. You betrayed me. Don’t touch me!”

The play acting had begun.

Elizabeth managed to tear herself out of his arms and put the bed between them. For a moment she imagined having the power to do this with Silas. Every night, in fact. But submission was her role and, as long as she acquiesced, quietly, meekly, with gritted teeth, he’d have no grounds for treating her more harshly than he already did.

Charles snatched her wrist and tugged her into his arms, his voice smooth as honey. “Come willingly, Lady Drummond, and I shall treat you with care. Honour the promise you made Captain Reynolds and you shall have no grounds for complaint.”

Like a frightened deer she broke free and ran towards the door.

“Captain Reynolds said he would see me and my husband go free,” she panted, “but already the terms have changed. How can I trust you?” Right now she was where she’d long dreamed of being. Alone. With Charles. But what about later? No, she couldn’t think of that. All she knew was that her body was on fire to feel Charles’ naked skin against hers and to be possessed wholly and completely by him.