Chapter 5

 

Lillian

 

I didn’t knock when I entered William’s chamber.

Perhaps I feared any hesitation on my part would make me lose my nerve. Maybe I feared that he would reject me for my lies, release me from my position and force me to leave. Or most likely I was just physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted from yesterday’s discussion.

It was time to end this ruse. I could not go on any longer.

Every moment with him was pure torture. Every day brought up painful memories of a past that had not come to fruition. And every night was spent imagining what it would have been like had I not left William that fateful day eight years ago. So many dreams. Silly, unrealistic dreams that would never be. It was too late now.

I took in a deep, trembling breath. The children were happier here than they’d ever been before and I ached, knowing we would have to return to the smoke and crowds of London. Perhaps Charles might one day consent to allow us to reside in a country cottage while he remained in the city. It wasn’t uncommon for husbands and wives to live separately. However, if he knew how badly I wanted it, he would deny me on the spot.

I rested my hand on the porcelain doorknob. My conversation with William yesterday hadn’t gone the way I’d wanted and I was nervous about seeing him again. But when I opened the door and found him sitting in his chair, dressed in clean clothing and slowly lifting a fork to his mouth with a shaky hand, all worries vanished. A wide smile spread across my face. The fork made it to his lips. I knew better than to cheer. I would embarrass him.

“You’re here early,” he said, resting the fork upon the side table next to his breakfast tray.

“How did you know it was me?” I moved across the room and picked up a napkin that had fallen to the floor.

“Your scent.”

I flushed. It was the same French perfume I’d worn at eighteen. Did he remember? “You’re up early,” I said, deciding to change the subject. I settled his napkin upon the table and moved toward his bed, picking up his dirty clothes. Perhaps we could pretend as if nothing had happened. I could prolong this moment with him. “Sun is shining. It’s a beautiful day.”

He tilted his head toward me. Those eyes were bandaged but I felt like he could see me all the same. He had a domineering presence, and even though he was injured, one could not dismiss him. More than anything I wanted those eyes to heal, to peer into the swirling ocean depths and see if they were as piercing as I remembered. At the same time I knew I had to be well on my way to London before they removed those bandages for good.

More than one person from the village had visited my mother, drawn by curiosity and the uniqueness of her nationality. I’d missed the visits, having been gone during the day. I’d told Mother my friend’s illness was not to be discussed with the neighbors. But at some point the villagers would notice me here at the estate and wonder why I was sneaking about, visiting an unmarried man. It wouldn’t bode well for my reputation. If Charles ever uncovered the truth…

“Where do you live?” William interrupted. “I asked the maids, but they seemed to be quite at a loss.”

I paused, his clothing in hand. Could he hear the rapid beat of my heart? I didn’t miss the suspicion in his tone. “Near the river, where it splits.”

I hadn’t a clue if the river forked, but surely it did. Didn’t all rivers split at some point? He took another bite and chewed slowly, thoughtfully. I dropped his dirty clothing into a basket near the door. The air vibrated with unease, as if a storm was about to brew. I had a feeling he knew I lied to him.

“What does your husband do?”

I swallowed hard. Despite the cool breeze coming in through the open window, the room felt suddenly warm. Stifling. “Do?”

He took a sip of his drink. “A blacksmith, perhaps? Farmer?”

My heart pounded with unease. He knew something I didn’t. Baiting me. Charles had done it plenty of times, I knew it well. Fear and anger combined into a heated combination. Were all men the same?

“And what did you do today, my dear?”

It was never a question because he cared, but because he’d heard I’d visited someone he didn’t approve of. Or gone to the gardens when he’d told me to stay at home. He’d wanted to catch me in the lie so he could punish me.

Annoyed, I moved to William’s bed and smoothed down the covers. I didn’t want to think of Charles and William in the same vein. I didn’t want to believe they were capable of similar misdeeds. “Whatever needs done.”

“Whatever needs done.” I didn’t miss the derision in his voice. “He seems quite…talented.”

“We can’t all be lords of leisure.” I realized my mistake only once the words passed my lips. I was taking my anger out on William when it should have been directed at Charles. William had never been a lord of leisure. Even blind, he probably never would. William and Charles were not the same man. I released the air I held and forced my shoulders to relax.

“Hard worker, is he?”

I stared at William, unable to look away. Everything had changed between us since he’d found out I was married. I didn’t like this baiting man. Perhaps Charles wasn’t a hard worker, but the man I had loved was. William had only ever wanted to prove his worth. “He is.”

He leaned back in his chair, his face focused on the windows. “Hmm. That’s not what your daughter implied.”

My hands froze at his pillows. What had Caro said? Nervous, my heart hammered so loudly that certainly he heard the beat. “I can’t imagine what she implied.” I laughed, but it sounded forced and fake to my own ears. “Children do have such vivid imaginations.”

He didn’t look amused, but slowly settled his glass upon the table, so close to the edge I had to resist the urge to rush forward and push it back into place before it fell. “She implied your husband doesn’t work at all.”

“Of course he does.”

He steepled his hands together. “Then what, pray tell, does he do?”

I smoothed down his pillow. The man was determined. He wouldn’t give up. “He’s a…sailor.”

“Really? Well, I know many, having been in the military and all. What captain does he work under? Which ship does he sail?”

Blast and damnation! I had the horrible feeling he was trying to catch me in my lies. I continued to smooth down the covers over and over as I thought desperately for an answer. Why hadn’t I been better prepared before coming here? Because I’d been desperate to see him. Because I hadn’t expected to stay long. And because I hadn’t thought he’d care a whit about my wellbeing. I was supposed to be a companion, helping from afar.

“I…I…” Desperate, I turned to face him.

But he was there, standing directly before me. With a gasp, I stumbled back, hitting the edge of the bed. Trapped. How he had moved so quickly, so quietly, I hadn’t a clue. If he hadn’t had his eyes bandaged, I would have assumed his blindness a complete farce.

“William, I…”

Suddenly his hand was at my throat. It wasn’t a stinging embrace, but a gentle touch, his fingers brushing the delicate column. Still, it terrified me all the same. His thumb paused against my pulse. It was a primal touch that made me dizzy.

“Tell me the truth,” he hissed. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a woman who lies.”

“Yet, it’s well enough for a man to lie?”

“Don’t try and twist my words.” He released my neck only to grip the hair at the back of my head. “Damn you, woman.”

Before I could guess his intentions, his lips found mine in a pressing kiss. Startled, I didn’t dare move. He released my hair and his firm fingers bit into my upper arms. Shocked, I merely allowed him to take advantage. He dragged me forward, crushing my body to his. And in the moment I didn’t push him away.

It felt like coming home after a long and extensive trip to a desert where you’d assumed you’d never make it out alive. With a groan, I sank into him, sliding my hands up his muscled chest. In that moment, all the worries of the world fell away and everything felt right again.

His velvet tongue delved between my parted lips as his large hands gently cupped the sides of my face. My toes curled in my boots, my knees went weak. How could anyone hold me so gently, yet kiss so primitively? With a murmured groan, I slid my tongue across his, meeting him thrust for thrust. He tasted like tea and sugar and him. In my desperate mind, I swore I remembered that taste.

Lost and aching, I clung to his broad shoulders as I stood on tiptoe, trying to get closer. It was everything I remembered, yet so much more. My hands traveled down his chest, around his waist and then flattened to his muscled back. I wanted to touch every inch of him, to memorize every detail.

“God, you taste good,” he muttered.

With a growl, he pushed me back onto the bed. We fell together, his hard, warm body covering mine. The force of his desire was strong and hot. Suddenly I was no longer married to Charles. I was eighteen again and I was still in love with William, and he was still in love with me. The feelings were there, it was all the same. Nothing had changed. Nothing.

His hard body covered mine, pinning me to the bed. Before I had time to appreciate his strength, his touch, he shoved his knee between my thighs. I could feel the proof of his attraction throbbing against my lower belly. He didn’t know me, not the real me, but he wanted me. Perhaps deep down he recognized me. Perhaps underneath it all, our souls had connected on such a level that they would always know each other.

My mouth found his, my hands gripping the sides of his face. It was as if I was starving and I had finally been given food. For eight years I’d craved his touch, dreamt about him. Now that he was here, in my arms, I felt dizzy with desire. Need.

His tongue thrust between my lips as he deepened the kiss. I moaned, tilting my head. Every reservation was gone with a stroke of his tongue against mine. Every nerve-ending in my body sparked to life. There was a desperation to our kisses that I’d never felt before. It was as if we both knew that our time together was limited.

My hands moved over his broad shoulders, down his back. His hips thrust forward. The feminine area between my legs fluttered to life. The world lay forgotten, there was merely this room, only the two of us.

With each rocking motion of his hips, my body tightened. Frustrated, I struggled beneath him. My clothing felt too tight, my corset strangling the air from my lungs. As if sensing my need to breathe, he manage to undo the top two buttons of my bodice. His hand moved to my breast, cupping the soft mound. It was all too much. My nipples grew hard, my breasts heavy and aching. My entire body throbbed with the need for release. A release I’d felt only once before eight years ago.

It was there. So close. So very close. Our clothing separated us, yet the feelings came strong and fast. With each rock of his hips, with each press of his hard erection against my core, that sweet, wonderful heat spiraled tighter and tighter.

“Come for me,” he demanded.

My fingernails bit into his back, piercing his linen shirt. I came, exploding without him even entering me, without our skin touching. And even as the flames of embarrassment shot to my cheeks, I couldn’t stop myself. Wave after wave of pure pleasure pulsed through my body. My need had taken over. I felt alive in a way I hadn’t felt in years. My senses had exploded, a wicked desire of pleasure that burst around me, leaving me shaking and breathless.

“Hell,” William whispered, his lips against my temple. “You don’t know how badly I want you.”

But he wasn’t done. His mouth moved to my sensitive neck. Shivers danced down my spine. The sample of pleasure he’d given me wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted him completely.

“I want to taste you in places that would make you blush,” he murmured.

Low in the pit of my belly, a heated fire roared to life. The words he said were not the words of a gentleman. They were the words of a lover.

A sudden knock sounded on the door. It was the cold wash of reality needed. I gasped, shoving at William, but the muscled oaf wouldn’t move. I was married. Married, for God’s sake!

“Go away,” William growled, his lips only a breath away.

“Will, it’s me,” Oliver said.

With a groan, William lifted ever so slightly.

“Oh dear God.” I rolled out from under him and off the bed a little too quickly and fell to the floor with a thud that jarred my bones.

“Are you alright?” William asked, bolting upright.

No! I wanted to scream. No, I wasn’t alright. Far, far from it.

Married. I was married and I’d just found my release with another man. Hell, I couldn’t do this anymore. It was too much to bear. I didn’t bother to respond, but stumbled to my feet. Without pause, I raced across the room, tore open the door and darted around a startled Oliver.

 

****

 

William

 

Oliver led me down the hall, his body stiff at my side, his displeasure obvious.

We’d been walking for a few minutes and he’d still yet to say a word. “It’s not like you to show your disapproval,” I muttered. “You usually couldn’t care less what others do.”

“Yes, well, I hired her to look after your wounds, not your…you.” He sighed. “Really, I must congratulate you. Sending yet another nurse crying from the house.”

“Shut up, Oliver,” I growled. Hell, had she been crying? I’d never felt so dastardly. When had I become the bloody villain in this farce of a life? I knew I’d have to apologize, but for what? I wanted her, and I couldn’t be sorry about my desires. “When the bloody hell can these bandages come off?”

“Although you might be losing your touch, my boy. This one took almost two weeks to scurry.”

We started down the stairs and I had to resist the urge to shove him. The sound of his neck snapping would be just the thing to improve my day. “It wasn’t like that. She’ll return. She merely needed a moment.”

I hoped. She would return, wouldn’t she? It had been an hour since she’d raced from my room. The thought of never seeing her again sent me into a near panic. I gripped the railing as I moved down the steps, more worried about Mrs. Watson not returning than tripping and falling to my death.

When had I become so desperate for a woman’s presence? It was unsettling, to say the least. Hell, when I’d been on the Continent, there’d been no time for attachments. If I’d felt the urge, there was always a willing woman. But she wasn’t a willing woman. She was a married woman.

We moved down the back hall. The better question would be why did I continue to fall for women who were unavailable? She belonged to another man. Damn it all, if that didn’t make me see red. How I hated the idea of another man’s mouth on her, another man touching her. “Oliver, what do you know of Mrs. Watson?”

“She came highly recommended from Lady Brennon.”

“And she knows her?”

I could feel Oliver shrug. “Not knows, per say. But she recommended her.”

Something didn’t sit right, not the least of which was she had a husband somewhere. Dare I tell Oliver? No. He might wish to investigate and I wasn’t ready to open that Pandora’s Box. The door opened, the hinges squeaking and a cool burst of air rushed toward me. It smelled of rain and flowers. Of life. Of hope. It smelled like Mrs. Watson.

We moved outside into the back garden. I’d heard the storm last night, the fierce winds and patter of drops against the glass as I’d laid abed thinking about my Elaine. The weather had matched my mood. We moved outside and down the path, gravel underfoot crunching.

“Would you like me to sit with you?”

“No. Leave me be.” It was obvious Oliver had things to do and I didn’t need a nanny to watch me. Besides, Oliver hated small talk even more than I did.

“As you wish. I’ll be back to escort you inside shortly.”

I didn’t relax until Oliver’s footsteps faded. Since he was studying to be a doctor, he thought to practice on me. I wasn’t sure which was worse, Rafe and James treating me like an invalid, or Oliver treating me as an experiment.

I settled on the bench. Elaine was the only one who actually treated me like a man. Perhaps that was why I had taken to her. Even though I was injured, it was obvious she found me attractive. In her eyes I was still worthy of desire. It was a mutual need that flourished the longer we were together.

The soft murmur of whispered conversation told me I was no longer alone. I stiffened, annoyed…until I recognized the voice. The little girl who had visited me the other day. No. Not just any little girl…Elaine’s daughter. I wasn’t sure whether to be frustrated or amused. Apparently she’d brought a friend.

“Come out then,” I grumbled.

“Hello,” the girl called out hesitantly, shuffling forward and kicking up gravel that pattered to the path in front of me. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

I almost laughed. It had been months since anyone had any desire to be in my presence. I was an oddity to them, I supposed, like a sphinx. “Caroline, is it?”

“Yes, my lord. But my friends and family call me Caro.”

“Just sir will do. Well then, Caro…is your mother about?”

“Yes, sir, she’s somewhere.” She moved closer and a moment later I heard her friend inch forward as well, buoyed by the girl’s courage. “Mother said you’re Sir William because you’ve become a knight.”

I’d never told Elaine, she must have read it in the papers. Or Oliver had mentioned it. Not that it mattered. Being a knight hardly gave me leave to prance around London full of arrogant pride. “And does she know you’re here?”

No response.

I sighed, not having the heart to tell them to leave. Besides, I liked her innocent company, not that I would admit as much. “Who do you have with you?”

“My brother Benny. He didn’t believe that you were a soldier.”

I stretched my legs before me and crossed my arms. “Does your sister usually lie?”

“No, sir,” a boy muttered, obviously intimidated. I might not have been familiar with girls and how to treat them, but I knew how to respond to a boy. Show who was in charge. Demand respect.

“Well then, you have your answer.”

“Told you,” she whispered, taunting him. She’d gotten her spirit from her mother. This child would grow up to be self-sufficient, with or without her reprobate of a father by her side.

I felt my first smile of the day. “And how old are you, lad?”

“Seven.”

I tilted my head to the side, fascinated. “You’re twins?”

“I’m older!” the boy quickly added.

“Only by three minutes.”

“Still, it’s something,” he muttered.

I heard him shift and could imagine him kicking at the gravel in frustration. Vaguely I remembered Evangeline arguing with Oliver in much the same way. The bastard was so bloody hard to get along with.

“I have three brothers and had one sister, and you know what?”

“What?” they asked in unison, shuffling closer.

“We respect each other. We are loyal to each other.”

“What do you mean?” The girl settled next to me on the bench, so close I could feel her warmth, smell her innocent apple scent. What sort of bastard father let these children run around the countryside without escort? Anything could happen to them. Hell, if I had children of my own I wouldn’t let them out of my sight.

“I mean…we might have fought at times.” I released a wry laugh. “We still do. But we always protect each other. We love each other. Care for each other. That’s what siblings are supposed to do.”

“Yes,” the girl said solemnly.

She was so ready to agree with me, unlike her mother in that respect. They were silent for one thoughtful moment. I assumed they would leave, scurry away to find something more interesting than an injured, fallen hero. I should have known better.

“Sir, what do you mean had?” Caro asked. “You said you have three brothers and had one sister.”

Hell, these kids didn’t miss a thing. I rubbed the back of my neck, growing uneasy. I’d meant to sit in peace and sort out my feelings for Mrs. Watson, not entertain her charming children.

“Did something happen to the girl?” the lass asked, a catch to her voice. “Did she die in the war?”

“Of course not, you ninny,” the lad snapped. “Girls don’t go to war.”

“Lad, what did I say about respecting your sibling?” How Rafe would laugh to hear the stern tone of my voice. I almost laughed myself. “You don’t call your sister a ninny.”

“Yes sir,” he muttered, and I could imagine his chin sinking to his scrawny chest. He needed a set down or two. I knew, from personal experience, how incredibly highhanded an older brother could behave.

I swore I could practically feel the girl smirking next to me, and had to resist the urge to grin. God forbid I ever had a daughter, I would have spoiled her rotten. “It’s your duty to protect your sister, understand?”

I could practically hear him nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Now, don’t merely agree, only to rush away and forget. When you make a promise to me, you do so under oath, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he said more meekly this time. I wondered briefly what this boy would become with a lazy scoundrel of a father such as his. Two children with little means, left to their own devices.

“Good.” I took in a deep breath. “And you, lass. It’s your duty to stand by your brother’s side as well. To protect him when you can.”

I could feel her swing her legs back and forth. “But I’m just a girl. Father says women are weak and stupid.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or call her father out. Hell, I couldn’t wait to meet this veritable saint of a man who belittled his daughter and made his wife work while he lazed about. What an arse. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It is?” Ben questioned.

“Of course it is.” I shifted to the edge of the bench, leaning my elbows on my knees. Not for the first time I wished I could remove my blasted bandages and see their innocent faces. I felt oddly at ease with these little ones, although I’d rarely been around children before. Honesty, curiosity, innocence. There was no subterfuge to their personalities. “On the Continent there are women who work for our very own country.”

“What do they do?” the lad asked, sounding wary.

He didn’t believe me. While I could imagine his sister pure and innocent, I could see this boy with the stubborn face of a mule. No doubt his arms were crossed even now. He reminded me so much of my older brother James that I almost smiled.

“They’re spies.”

“They are?” the girl asked in whispered awe, scooting so close she pressed to my side. I had the oddest urge to ruffle her hair. I wasn’t awkward around children, but I’d never thought much about them, but for when…but for when I’d been infatuated with Lillian and her promises of a happily ever after. Just like that, my good mood faded.

“Yes. They’ve done wonders for England, they have. And no one suspects them because of men like your father spreading rumors that they’re stupid and weak.”

“But they aren’t,” the girl added, convinced now. It didn’t take much for her to believe me, she was so damn needy for approval. She’d be easy prey for bullies, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have her father to protect her.

“No. They aren’t. They’re more cunning than most men.”

From somewhere nearby two birds squawked, fighting over territory in a raucous manner. Or perhaps it was a warning that someone was coming.

“Have you met them,” the lad asked, “these female spies?”

“I have.”

“Can you tell us?” the boy asked eagerly, stepping closer. “About your battles?”

There was the softest crunch of gravel from behind. The footsteps of a woman. I knew without hesitation that Mrs. Watson had arrived. I swore her sweet scent whispered on the very breeze around me.

“Perhaps another time. If I’m not mistaken I hear your mother around the corner and if she catches you here, I doubt she’ll be happy.”

“Come on, Caro,” Ben urged. “Hurry.”

“Go immediately home, understand? No playing by the pond without your mother. The slope can be steep.”

“Yes sir,” they said as one, but it was obvious they weren’t listening.

The little brats were going to get themselves killed. And then they were gone, racing down the path and I was left to worry, even though they weren’t my responsibility. Their footsteps faded and the garden fell silent. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I missed their incessant chatter.

“Is it true?” she asked, pausing beside me.

I stiffened, my hands curling as her heady scent swirled around me. Memories of the woman on my bed tiptoed dangerously close to the surface. I swore I could still feel the pressure of her body underneath me. “What?”

“Do you truly think women more cunning than men?”

I laughed, that bitterness that had been my common companion for so many years racing gleefully to the forefront. “Yes. I was duped in the worse possible way by a woman. Men are duped all the time.”

“And women aren’t duped by men?” she snapped, her anger almost palpable. Her husband had cheated then. It was a common enough occurrence. Knowing what I did about the man, it didn’t surprise me in the least.

“No. Men are honest in their affairs. They don’t hide it.”

She laughed. “And so they should be lauded because they parade their mistresses about in public?”

“At least they are honest,” I snapped back. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what we were arguing about, or why we had started. But I knew my irritation was great enough that I wasn’t about to back down. “Everyone knows men cheat.”

She snorted. “And that makes it fine?”

Annoyed, I stood. “I didn’t say that! I meant that at least society knows. Women, on the other hand, pretend to be loyal, faithful, then stab you in the back when you least expect it.”

We went silent, but I could hear her harsh breathing. I’d upset her. I hadn’t meant to. Hell, if Lillian was still fresh in my mind and that made me angrier than I wanted to admit. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on her.

“Mrs. Watson,” I said, lifting my hand. “Elaine, I’m—”

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, stepping back, the gravel underfoot crunching. “I can’t.”

“Mrs. Watson,” I called out, desperate. “You can’t do what?”

But it was too late. She’d already fled, headed in the same direction as her children. This time I wondered if perhaps Oliver was right and I’d scared off yet another companion.