Daughter of Darkness (23 page)

Devilment came into his eyes as he wondered how Willow would react to a surprise visit from her husband. The corridor was long, the bedchambers too numerous to count as he set about his task of finding her. This will take me all night, he fretted, opening another door to no avail. About to turn back in defeat, his nostrils were teased by a fleeting fragrance of perfume. A tiny flicker of firelight danced beneath the last door at the end of the corridor. He hastened towards it.

His breath hissed audibly in his throat as he approached her bed. Asleep, she lay on her back, her innocence and vulnerability achingly apparent to him. Her hair spread like ripples of dark water across the sheets. Childlike, one small hand curled against the cheek that turned against it. Her mouth was slightly parted, her breath whispered evenly with each rise and fall of her breast. Her beauty was breathtaking.

As he gazed at the recumbent form, a lump formed in his throat. ‘I hardly know you,’ he whispered. ‘Yet my desire for you grows each time I see you.’ Re-lighting his candle from the fire, he carefully placed it on her dressing table and positioned himself at the side of her bed.

Being married was proving to be more difficult than he’d imagined. With as much dispassion as he could muster he gazed down at his wife’s slender body. Had she been a drab, the bedding of her would have been simple.

The bedding would be simple now
, an insidious voice inside his head whispered, and his body responded excitingly to the thought.
She’s yours. All you need do is take her. She’ll not be expecting pleasure from the act. Thrust her legs apart and slake your appetite upon her. It’s your right as her husband. She’ll struggle and cry whilst you break her to your will and sow your seed of inside her. You’ve been a long time without bodily comfort and release.

‘No,’ he murmured regretfully. ‘I’ll not act like some crude oaf. She has dreams and feelings, as she revealed in her conversation with my father today. I’ll not be the instrument of her misery.’ Tenderly he kissed her softly parted mouth. She whispered his name. How sweet it sounded when whispered thus. He kissed her again, relishing the soft, seductive swell of her lips.
Sweet Jesus!
he prayed, let her wake. She’s so relaxed she’ll be amenable to my attention now. The delicious, scented hollows at the base of her throat succumbed to the fluttering probe of his tongue and she gave a tiny sigh. Two soft breasts were outlined under the bed linen, just a finger’s length away. He gently brushed them into erectness. This time, the sigh she gave had an ecstatic sound. Yet she still slept. It didn’t seem possible. A quiet desperation grew in him as he slid the covers from her body and gently shook her. ‘Willow?’

Why wouldn’t she wake? He explored the silky contours of her body, breathing her name over and over again. What could be more natural than this night should see a consummation of their marriage.

She stretched like a langorous cat, moist and ripe for the taking. He took her gently over the peak, watching her shudder, surging hard against his linens. He shook her again, firmer this time. She was like a rag doll in his hands. She protested with a groan and curled into a protective ball when he released her.

His body on fire, it took all of Gerard’ s strength not to turn her on her back, and take his joy of her whilst she lay unconscious. A mockery of a grin laced his mouth as he tore a small trophy from her bodice. His eyes searched the perimeters the room. She’d managed to enchant him without any sorcerer’s symbols to aid her. Placing a parting kiss against her ear, he whispered. ‘Sleep sweet, My Lady’

This night was not for him, but her dreams would be haunted by the exquisite pleasure his touch had surely given her. So would his, unfortunately!

Noticing some vials, he realized she’d taken a sleeping draught? He couldn’t think of any reason why she’d have trouble sleeping. His eyes narrowed. It was more likely she’d been
given
some sort of sleeping draft?

Pulling the covers over her body he picked up a half-empty cup of chocolate and sniffed. Balm and Valerian! He’d learned enough from Charles Addison to know balm was a mild sedative used for women’s problems. Valerian was a sleeping draught. A combination of the two would knock out a horse, as he’d learned to his cost four years previously.

He scowled as he remembered Kitty Adams gliding towards the stairs. Had she drugged Willow, and cheated him out of his comfort as a result? He intended to make it his business to find out.

Willow had never had a dream so pleasurable. When she half-woke in the morning—and was in the lethargic state before real awakening—her mind and body re-experienced it. It had been almost real, Gerard coming to her. She hoped the dream was an omen that her marriage union would be a pleasant one.

‘Kitty!’ she shouted. Leaping from the bed she stripped the chemise from her body, noticing a rip on the bodice where a length of lace had come off. No doubt Kitty would find it amongst the sheets and sew it back on. She threw the chemise over a chair. ‘Bring me a bowl of water to wash with and my tooth sponge?’

‘Kitty?’ Hurrying to the maid’s room she cursed when she saw the bed hadn’t been slept in. She’d expressly forbidden her permission to visit Brian before their marriage. Couldn’t the girl wait? She dragged the pitcher of water from the dresser, splashed some into a bowl and hurriedly made her toilet before pulling on the her riding outfit. About to attack her tangled locks with the hair-brush, she impatiently gave permission to enter when a knock sounded on the door.

‘Have you seen Kitty?’ she asked, when the housekeeper set a tray of tea on the table.

‘She has been dismissed from her position and assigned to the scullery, My Lady.’ Mrs. Breton took the brush from her hand. ‘If you’ll allow me.’

‘My maid has been dismissed?’ Incredulous, she gazed at Mrs. Breton. ‘On whose order?’

‘The viscount’s, My Lady.’ Mrs. Breton looked uncomfortable as she began to dress Willow’s hair. ‘I understand Kitty abandoned her duties last night. The viscount was extremely annoyed when he caught her trying to sneak in this morning. She got a good dressing down, and was lucky not to have been dismissed.’

‘Was she indeed?’

Choosing to forget that she’d been unsatisfied with Kitty’s attitude herself, of late, Willow’ s temper began to rise. Whatever Kitty had done, Gerard had no right to dismiss her without consultation. She glanced at the way Mrs. Breton was fashioning her hair and snatched the brush from her hand. ‘This will not do. Go and tell Kitty to come to me at once.’

‘Do not ask me to do that, My Lady.’ Mrs. Breton looked most unhappy. ‘She’ll have no choice but to obey you, and I’ll have no choice other than to dismiss her, and have her escorted from the estate. The viscount has given me specific orders concerning this matter.’

‘I see.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Where’s my husband now?’

‘In the study.’ Mrs. Breton followed her out to the hall. ‘You cannot go down with your hair undressed, My Lady,’ she said, her voice shocked.

‘I can do whatever I please, Mrs. Breton.’

She didn’t bother knocking, just opened the study door and walked straight in.

Gerard looked up from the desk and frowned ominously. ‘Am I to understand you wish to see me?’

‘You are.’ Her voice rose a notch as she uttered a deliberate falsehood. ‘Kitty had my permission to be absent last night. You had no right to dismiss her. I
insist
on having her back.’

Gerard rose to his feet and came to stand in front of her, his eyes silver bright as they probed the depths of hers. ‘Did she also have permission to drug you senseless with a sleeping draught last night?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Her insides quaked at the deceptively silky tone of her husband’s voice. In contrast, his eyes were as cold as polished metal. She had an uncomfortable feeling he’d seen through her lie. Her voice trembled with tension. ‘Even if she was knowledgeable about medication, she’d not do such a thing.’

‘No?’ His hand went to his pocket and pulled out the missing lace from her chemise. His smile was cruelly mocking as he dangled it in front of her eyes. ‘Tell me, wife. Were your dreams pleasant last night?’

Her mouth became dry as she remembered the caress of lips and hands teasing her body into exquisite fulfillment, of her own half-remembered abandonment. The recollection caused a dewy aching awareness in the secret depths of her body. A deep, painful flush of embarrassment swept over her. ‘You are no gentleman, sir.’ Her fury boiled over when she saw the laughter in his eyes. Snatching the lace from his grasp she lashed out with the other hand and caught him a stinging blow across his cheek. ‘I hate you, Gerard,’ she hissed.

The laughter faded from his eyes as he stared at her in shock. There was a hot patch on his face where her hand had marked it. She took a step backwards when he moved. He gave a tight smile as he jerked the bell-pull. There was menace in his whisper. ‘Be thankful I’ve promised never to beat you, because you’re closer to it now than you’ve ever been. Accompany Lady Sommersley to her bedchamber and make her presentable,’ he said quietly when Mrs. Breton appeared. ‘If she refuses to co-operate you may lock her in her room and inform me. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, My Lord.’ He ignored the sympathetic glance Mrs. Breton gave Willow. ‘Have my wife’s belongings moved to the chamber adjoining mine. The one she resides in now is barely habitable. I cannot understand why she chose such accommodations.’

Willow seethed at being spoken of as if she wasn’t there, but she sensed Mrs. Breton’s sympathy, and blessed the woman when she dared to say. ‘Lady Sommersley was assigned the chambers by your late mother, My Lord.’

‘My mother?’ His expression contained a mixture of shame and disbelief. ‘My mother was inhospitable towards my wife?’

‘Yes, My Lord,’ Mrs. Breton’s tone was firm. ‘And though I should not say it, for no good reason I could see.’

‘Mrs. Breton,’ Willow implored, twisting the situation to her advantage, despite the fact she was close to tears. ‘It does not matter now. I was grateful for the roof over my head. We must not speak ill of the dead.’

‘That will be all.’ Unable to gaze at his wife’s wounded expression without capitulating, Gerard picked up a paper from the desk and scrutinized it with more than his usual intensity. When he heard the study door shut, he thumped his hand on the desk and swore in frustration. He should have known his mother would have found some way to exercise her spite against Willow. She’d set her heart on Daphne de Vere and Sheronwood for him.

‘You fool!’ he muttered. ‘You’ll never win Willow’s heart by being cruel. She has suffered enough.’

‘Well done,’ Willow cried out in admiration.

The stallion had done its best to unseat its rider and now responded to Jeffrey’s handling. Flanks slicked with foam, it cantered obediently under his guidance. Jeffrey’s grin was wide as he slid from its back and handed the reins to Brian. ‘Did you see the fight he put up, father? I never thought I’d stay in the saddle.’

The earl looked tired. The short walk from the house had exhausted him, despite having John to lean on. Nevertheless, he smiled with great love at his youngest son, lavishing praise on him before whispering something to John. John picked him up and carried him back towards the house.

Waiting until the hubbub had died down, Willow kissed Edward and handed him over to his nurse before strolling off towards the stable building. Gerard was occupied with Anthony Dowling. She was pleased he had a guest. It meant he would not ride with her today. He’d outraged her sensibilities with his behavior of the previous night.

‘Willow?’ Catching her up at a run, Jeffrey smiled an apology. ‘Captain Dowling has offered to show me the regimental horses being put through their paces, so I’ll be unable to escort you today. Gerard bids you wait while he changes. He’ll accompany you on your ride today.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw he was watching them. She threw him frosty look. ‘Tell my husband he need not bother to change on my account. I’m more than happy with the company of the groom.’

‘You will wait.’ Gerard snapped, striding off towards the house without a backward glance.

She simmered with resentment at being issued an order in front of a guest.

Jeffrey stared thoughtfully towards his brother’s retreating back. ‘He seems out of countenance this morning.’

‘We’ve crossed swords,’ she said carelessly. ‘He can be a most aggravating man on occasion. I was compelled to point this out to him.’ Encouraged by Jeffrey’s grin, she whispered. ‘I’ve got no intention of obeying his order like some servant girl. If he’s not back in a few minutes, he can chase my tail.’

The awe in Jeffrey’s eyes spurred her on. After a few minutes she decided Gerard’s time had run out and turned her face to the cold kiss of the wind. Eying the ragged streamers of clouds, she wondered if it would rain. Spring was almost upon them. Buds had swelled to bursting point, and there seemed to be an air of expectancy about everything—including the horses! Such a cacophony of squeals and snickers came from the stables she could hardly hear herself think as she walked towards Circe’s stall. Circe was so full of nervous energy Brian advised she should not be ridden. Knowing why, she tried to hide her excitement.

Brian had changed since Gerard had taken him to task. As with Kitty, the difference in their status was becoming more and more apparent, and the easiness between them had gone. Propriety forbade discussion of the mating of her horse. Once, she would have discussed Circe’s coupling and the likely outcome. Now she held her tongue. The subject had become men’s business. The stallion had been broken that morning for a reason. When he was taken to cover her mare, much of his energy would be spent and he’d treat his mate more kindly.

Brian saddled up a mettlesome chestnut mare. It would give her a good ride. She ran her hand over the rippling flanks to quiet it and said to Brian. ‘I daresay you’ve heard Kitty no longer works as my maid?’

‘That I have, My Lady.’ Brian straightened up from what he was doing and gave her a direct gaze. ‘Kitty was wrong to endanger your life. The viscount showed remarkable restraint in the matter.’