Vexing the Viscount

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “I lost a child to belladonna poisoning a year ago. It was all my fault. I had grown it because it can have some medicinal qualities in small doses. She ate a handful of berries on a dare. Her little brother survived by chance. But I had never seen the effects of the poison. By the time I arrived at the house, her fever was very high. I made a terrible assumption that it was just a summer fever.”

Braden wiped the tears that flowed down her face. “I am sorry that you had to relive that with me.” Slowly, he brought her down to rest against his chest. Her tears dampened his skin. “Shh,” he murmured, caressing her hair. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with a little hiccup. “By the time I came back the next morning, she could barely breathe. She died an hour after I arrived. It wasn’t until a day later that her brother admitted to eating the berries. I should have known. I should have known what the symptoms were before I decided to grow that damned plant.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Seeing you like that brought back all the memoires and I was terrified that I would lose you.”

Braden shook his head. “It wouldn’t be much of a loss for the world. There isn’t much I can claim that I’ve done to make this a better place.”

“You must have done something good in your life. You are trying to help your brother.” She shook her head. “And your servants love you.”

“Except one.”

She wiped her tears away and nodded. “Yes, except one who poisoned you. But your tenants also have a great respect for you. No one liked the previous viscount.” As if realizing where she was, she pulled back and stared at him.

“You were fine where you were,” he whispered.

“I—I—”

Even knowing he shouldn’t, he reached up and cupped her neck. He brought her closer and kissed her tenderly. Her soft lips responded to his gentleness. Before passion could overtake him, he broke away and softly said, “Thank you.”

“I—”

“Go take a nap, Tia. You look as if you’ve barely slept since I took ill.”

She nodded, but continued to stare at his lips. “You should nap too. By tomorrow, you shall feel much better. I’ll come back at dinner.”

“I look forward to that.”

Tia left the room quickly and headed to her bedroom. She flopped on the bed, burying her head under a pillow. What just happened in there? If he hadn’t been a gentleman and pulled away, she might have continued to kiss him. She might have encouraged him to do more than kiss her. What was wrong with her?

He even admitted he had done nothing with his life. He wasn’t the type of man who fell in love. Even Emily had told her he was nothing but a rake. And whatever that vow was he had supposedly taken, apparently he wasn’t keeping it.

But that handsome face drew her in. She wanted those lips on her mouth, her breasts . . . everywhere. He obviously wanted her, so why hadn’t he taken the initiative yet? Dear God, he’d had an erotic dream about her. A part of her wanted to march into his room this instant to confront him.

She pounded her fists into the bed. In her entire life, she’d never felt such frustration running through her. Not even when she thought she loved Jonathon did she feel this way. There was only one way this madness would stop.

She had to have him.

After all, who was she to save her herself for marriage? She would probably end up married to some tenant farmer on the estate. He wouldn’t care if she’d already been with Middleton. The man would presume they would get some preferential treatment because of that fact. Well, whoever that man turned out to be, she would set him straight. She wanted nothing from Middleton . . . except his body.

With her mind made up, she rang for a bath. After an hour of soaking in lavender-scented water, she dried off and walked to the linen chest. With a smile, she pulled out the red silk.

“What are you doing with that dress?” Mrs. Abbott said as she entered the room to assist her. “You are not going out tonight.”

“No, I am having dinner in his lordship’s bedchamber,” she replied with a smile.

“Miss Featherstone, the man is still recovering from being poisoned. He will not be in the mood for such foolishness.”

“Oh yes, he will.” And if he were too weak to make love to her then, she would make love to him. How hard could it be?

“I suppose he might be all right. He did call for a bath not long before you.”

“Excellent. Now help me into this dress.”

Mrs. Abbott sighed and then assisted her with her undergarments. “Are you certain this is what you want? You’ll be branded a harlot.”