“You lied to me!”
Aloise scarcely waited for the panel to open before storming at Slater, nails drawn. “You fairly gave me to him on a silver platter.”
She tried to claw at his face, but he took her wrists and snapped them around his waist, drawing her flush against his hips so that she couldn’t move so much as a muscle.
“How dare you?” she cried, an anguish she had never known nearly choking off the words. She had momentarily trusted him. She’d thought he was sincere in his willingness to help her. To offer her a marriage of convenience. But she’d judged him incorrectly and he’d betrayed her.
“I promised you would be safe, and you are.”
His placating tone had little effect in tempering her fury. “For how long? Tell me, when do you intend to surrender me? Today? Next week?”
“Aloise, listen to me.”
“No! I won’t hear any more of your lies!”
“I won’t let your father gain control of you again.”
“You just promised to return me to him!”
He regarded her seriously, before saying, “You will have to go back. Eventually.”
“Damn you!” Tears rose, unbidden, unwanted, but there nevertheless. A thick desperation tightened her throat. All too well, she remembered how her father had treated her for her last attempts at freedom. His retribution had been swift and cruel. This time, she’d managed to escape him for over a week. He would punish her tenfold for that.
She had to get away!
As if sensing her panic, Slater held her in her place. “Aloise, you can’t escape a final confrontation with your father. Once and for all, you need to break the ties that bind you to him. Now or later. Wouldn’t you rather have it over soon?”
“No.”
“Aloise—”
“No! You lied to me before. You’re lying to me now!”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Aloise.”
His hands moved from her wrists to splay across her back, urging her to credit his words. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. To believe in a man’s words was to open the gates of heartache. Hadn’t she learned that lesson already?
“Let me go.”
“I want to help you.”
“No!” She shook her head in derision. “You’ve done nothing but manipulate me since the moment we met. You have no regard for my feelings, no sense of respect for my dreams.”
His features became grave. “That might have been the case at one time. But not anymore. I swear to you.”
“You tricked me into coming to this house.”
“Because I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know if I could trust you not to go to your father.”
“So what have you discovered to make you believe in me now?”
He cradled her face, holding her still. “That you are kind and beautiful and strong. That you have a great capacity for love—one that has never been indulged.”
His words shocked her into silence, but only for a moment. She would not allow him to see how they had affected her.
“I suppose you wish to indulge me.”
He bent to graze the corner of her eye with his lips. A fleeting, heart-tugging kiss. “I would like to try.”
She grasped his wrists with the intent of pushing him away, but found that the moment she touched him, felt the warmth of his skin, the strength of his bones, she was powerless to do such a thing. A need blossomed inside her. The same need he had instilled in her so many times. She’d tried every method she possessed to banish such a traitorous response. But now, still trembling and bitterly afraid of being sent back to her father, she discovered that she longed to feel this man’s strength and reassurance. She wanted him to prove to her that he truly cared. Even if he only pretended.
“You haven’t answered my question, Aloise.”
Her eyes flickered, and she met the burning brand of his gaze.
“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Are you trying to tell me you love me?”
He shifted. “No.”
She huffed in indignation and he reminded her, “You asked me to tell the truth. This is to be a marriage mutually beneficial to both.” His voice grew softer, more tender. “I’m sure that deeper feelings will develop one day. But those things take time.”
“My father will not let such a marriage happen.”
“He will not be able to stop it.”
“As soon as he discovers that you are my husband, he will punish me for rebelling against his wishes.” The fear she felt was very real. Very powerful. “He will kill me, I know.”
“Not if I’m with you. We’ll tell him together. Then he won’t be able to hurt you. Ever again.”
“But you want to send me back!”
“I only want you to meet with your father so that he’ll know you are legally married.”
The idea was tempting, incredibly tempting. But this man underestimated her father’s strength of will.
“He will annul the match.”
“Not if it has been consummated.”
Consummated. The word alone sent a burst of warmth to her loins. Aloise was not a total innocent. She knew a man’s needs and she knew that it was a woman’s duty to submit to those needs.
“Trust me, Aloise. Trust me to help you, take care of you. Trust me to make things right once and for all. Your father wanted a son. Instead, he was given a rare gift. A beautiful and charming daughter.”
Her chest ached at the words. Her throat grew tight with the tears she refused to shed.
“Now he seeks a grandson. An heir.” Slater’s voice became husky, rich. “Best him at his own game, Aloise. Thwart him in all things. Reject the handpicked lot of suitors and marry me, a rogue, a rake, and a thoroughly unsuitable match. Then beat him again …” his palm lowered, cupping the flatness of her abdomen, bunching the fabric of her nightclothes. “Bear me a daughter. I vow that I will cherish her as you should have been cherished. She will become her father’s jewel. More valuable to him than—”
“Rubies?” she inserted bitterly, suddenly understanding. “Is that what you seek? The Bengal Rubies?”
His eyes wavered slightly, dropped.
“You told me there would be no more lies.”
A heavy silence cloaked them before he finally spoke. “I cannot deny that the rubies hold a certain appeal.”
“Because of the curse?”
“Because of their history.”
She gasped in realization. “You must have recognized the piece you said I’d stolen. You never really thought I was a thief, did you? It was all part of your plan.”
“Yes.”
He offered no other explanation, no apology.
“I don’t know where my father obtained the jewels. I have always wondered if he stole them.”
Slater’s countenance grew enigmatic. “There is always that possibility.”
“I doubt my father will give them up if the marriage is not to his choosing.”
“He will have no choice if word of a broken promise is spread through London.”
“There might be rightful heirs who would claim the jewels. If so, would you give them back?”
He chose his words carefully. “If, as you say, your father took them wrongfully, they should be returned to their proper owners.”
“Then, what of me? What will you do with me once you’ve lost my dowry and gained your child?”
“We apparently have a misunderstanding of sorts. I’m not bartering for your breeding services, Aloise.”
She felt a flush of embarrassment at his blunt words. “I hadn’t thought—”
“Hadn’t you? When I spoke of a daughter, I spoke only of our first. There will be many more after that.”
“More?” she breathed.
Winding his arms around her waist, he took her weight, drawing her up to him so that they were eye to eye. “The marriage I suggest is not a temporary proposition. If you accept, you accept to spend the rest of your days with me—and your nights. You agree to bear my children, tolerate my moods, and make my home a happy place.”
“Oh.” It was the only response she could summon. The air locked in her body, so much so, she feared she would swoon in surprise, but his next words instantly revived her.
“In return, I’m afraid I cannot offer you an easy life, so you must think carefully. You will be required to travel, visit far-off lands, endure primitive facilities and unusual cultures.”
Adventure. He was offering her the adventure of a lifetime, and he felt it necessary to apologize.
“I accept.”
“I know you will need time to adjust, so we’ll stay here for a month or two—”
“I accept.”
“But I fear I have been assigned to an expedition to Brazil—”
“I accept.”
“—come Christmas. His Majesty is very eager … to …”
His words trailed away and he finally met her sparkling gaze.
“I… accept,” she stated slowly and distinctly.
A boyish look of disbelief tugged at his lips, his brows. “Really?”
“Really.”
He uttered a short bark of laughter, then scooped her close. “You accept!”
“I accept.”
Whirling her in a circle, he buried his head in her shoulder. “You accept.”
Weaving her fingers in his hair, Aloise savored the moment, the heady exhilaration. Perhaps she was fooling herself. Perhaps this man had merely strung her another set of pretty tales. But for now, she banished the doubts, banished the fears, banished all thought of her father’s wrath. For now, she reveled in what this man had made her feel. Beautiful. Whole.
Cherished.
She could only pray that such emotions could withstand her father’s wrath.
They were married in a small rock church on the land bordering Ashenleigh. The ceremony took place at dawn, just as the sun was beginning to paint the sky with brush strokes of gold.
Aloise wore one of Georgette LeBeau’s creations, a heavy gown of rose and ivory satin studded with pearls and lace. A half-dozen petticoats rested over her cane panniers, causing her skirts to rustle and drift about her ankles like the foam of a wind-tossed wave. As a finishing touch, one of Georgette’s assistants arranged her hair in a riot of ringlets, then inserted a score of diamond-tipped hairpins into the silken tresses.
Until joining Slater, Aloise had never known how beautiful garments made to her measurements could make her feel like royalty. As she walked down the aisle to join her waiting groom, she could have been a queen.
A suspiciously misty-eyed Miss Nibbs and a beaming Georgette had come to the ceremony as her attendants while Slater’s men served the dual purpose of witnesses and guards. Taking her place, Aloise gripped the nosegay of pink roses that Slater had sent to her room. A room that had still been firmly locked for two days—as if he did not trust her to remain fast in her decision.
Aloise had not changed her mind. Although most of the previous evenings had been spent pacing her room, it had not been because of her impending marriage. Slater had been right in saying this was the only way to beat her father at his own game. She was valuable to Oliver Crawford as long as she was an unwed virgin.
Staring at the man who stood beside her, so tall, so dark, so serious, she realized that within minutes she would have destroyed the first valuable qualification. By eveningfall, she would have destroyed the second. Then her father would never be able to hurt her again.
The thought of being enclosed in his arms, of surrendering her virtue, caused a weakness to invade her limbs. She had to make love to this man. Had to. It was the only way to escape her present predicament.
As the vicar’s words droned on, she realized that her motives were not entirely so simple. There was a part of her that wanted him to take her. Just once, she longed to feel important. Loved. But, come morning, she would have to remind herself that such thoughts were a sham. Their marriage was one of retribution toward her father, nothing more.
Returning her attention to the ceremony, Aloise stifled her impatience. She wanted this day over. Done. She wanted all of her unpleasant tasks behind her.
If the vicar was surprised by the early hour of the nuptials, he made no comment. In fact, the old man was so feeble and nearsighted that Aloise was astonished that he had the energy to deliver the words in a booming voice. Yet, when he uttered the words “What God has brought together, let no man put asunder,” Aloise felt a small kernel of hope. Of elation. What she was doing felt right. More right than anything she had ever done before. Their union must surely be blessed by some holy intervention. A higher power that even her father could not defeat. This time—this time— she would have emerged victorious in her battle to assert her will.
It began to rain as they walked from the chapel. Miss Nibbs clucked in distress, muttering something about unlucky superstitions dealing with brides and storms, but Aloise knew differently. For once, the inclement weather brought no ill memories. Aloise chose to think the slight shower was a good sign, a cleansing of the past. A chance for new beginnings.
And now …
The evening storm continued, the splatter of moisture hissing against the windowpanes, softly, gently. The noise soothed Aloise’s nerves and she laid her forehead against the cool glass, knowing that tonight she would irrevocably change. Before the hour was through, she would truly become a bride.
Wild horses could not have dragged the admission from her, but she’d lived the last few days in a constant state of fear. Having had no luck with prospective spouses in the past, she’d held her breath and mentally crossed her fingers, praying that her new groom would live to see the ceremony. To her infinite relief, he had. All that remained was to consummate their union.
She was swiftly discovering that she was not quite as immured to the idea as she might have believed. She found herself tensely waiting for Slater. She started at each strange sound. She trembled. She … yearned.
Aloise knew she should dread the next few hours. After all, she was about to indulge in the most intimate of acts with a man she hardly knew. But she found the thought didn’t frighten her. In fact, for the first time she could remember, she felt…
Safe.
The door from the hallway had been left ajar, and Aloise heard the imperceptible whisper of the door over carpet. Steeling herself, she turned.
It was not her husband who had come to greet her, but Sonja. The tiger stood in the middle of the threshold, eyeing Aloise in careful concern.
“Hello, Sonja.” Aloise hoped her voice did not sound as tremulous to the tiger as it did to her. She watched in great trepidation as the animal’s tail swished from side to side. Not a good sign from the barnyard variety of cats. Aloise could only hope it meant something different to Sonja.
The cat padded forward, offering a warning grumble. She circled Aloise once, twice, sniffing and growling to herself. Aloise was beginning to wonder if she should back away or call for help when the animal dropped to the floor, rolled to its back, and began to purr.
How astonishing and how completely unexpected! Moving warily, Aloise bent and placed a tentative hand to the animal’s stomach. The purring increased.
“You’re just a big kitten at heart, aren’t you?” Aloise murmured, stroking the silky fur. “You’re nothing to be feared at all.”
“On the contrary.”
The dark voice melted from the shadows and she started, looking up. “Sonja has been with me on my travels since soon after her birth, but she is still a wild thing at heart.”
The cat yowled in protest at having its petting disturbed and Aloise renewed her efforts, stroking the pale white fur of her stomach.
“Over the years, she has learned to choose those whom she can trust.”
The words were so carefully spoken that Aloise knew Slater referred to more than the tiger.
“She is wise to do so. There are many who would seek to hurt her.”
“Yet she has given her trust to you, Aloise.”
“As well as to you.”
“Will you believe she won’t hurt you?”
“As long as I can gauge her moods.”
“And what about me, Aloise?”
She thought carefully before responding. “I shall have to learn to gauge your moods as well.”
The tiger, miffed at being placed in the periphery of attention, huffed, yawned, and rolled to her feet. Grumbling deep in her throat, she padded from the room. Slater followed the animal far enough to close the door behind her striped tail.
When he turned, the light of the single taper next to the bed cast a weak glow of light over his features. Such blunt, rough-hewn, bearded features.
“However did you come by such coloring?” Aloise asked. “Such black eyes and hair—very unusual.”
“My mother was French.”
“Ahh.” Aloise toyed with the lace at one cuff. “Do you miss her?”
“My mother?”
“Mmm.”
He shrugged. “She died when I was an infant.”
“I see.” The idle conversation was having no effect against the mounting tension of the room. None at all. But Aloise preferred the meaningless flow of words to the silence. “I missed the influence of a mother.”
The statement was made without thought, but it brought with it a shivering expectancy. The man at the opposite end of the room grew still, so still.
“But then, you know that,” she murmured. “You were the one to ask me if I yearned for such a thing.” Tilting her chin, she wondered if she would rue the question she must ask.
“Did you know her … intimately?”
“I knew her quite well.”
“How well?” Her fingers trembled and she clenched them together. “You said you were at my birthday party. Why?”
She knew that he had absorbed the slant of her questioning, that he understood the intent of her queries even though Aloise could not bear to utter the words.
Had he been her mother’s lover?