Johanna Lindsey (25 page)

“That won’t work.”

“’Course it will. Civilized people don’t pry into the problems of married couples.” Amazingly, some humor entered his golden eyes. She was sure, well, maybe not so sure. It could have been a trick of the light, she supposed.

But his tone suggested anything but humor when he said, “Do you really think you could keep me away from you if we really were married? When the thought of your lush body under mine has driven me beyond good sense?”

She gasped again, felt her cheeks bloom with bright color. And it wasn’t just his words, though they conjured up all sorts of images of the previous glorious night when he’d made love to her. It was what he was making her feel inside, at that very moment. And the way he was looking at her…no humor now in his eyes, but some very intense heat. Despite where they were, despite her resolve, she knew without a doubt that she would succumb to the temptations he presented if he approached her. She was that powerfully attracted to him.

Desperately latching onto anything that would tamp down the desire that had arisen between them, she took the perfect opening he’d given her.

“You’d actually force yourself on me if I were seriously angry with you?” she asked with the outrage his comment deserved.

“If we really were married, Maggie, we wouldn’t be having spats,” he replied. “We’d be spending too much time in bed to argue.”

She couldn’t believe how much that promise appealed to her. She really was out of her league with The Raven, and he was definitely The Raven right now, using skills to chip away at her resolve that she couldn’t hope to resist.

All she could do was fall back on indignation, which she had to try hard to muster. “Odious man, that did not answer my question.”

“But the answer is twofold. No, I wouldn’t force you against your will, I’d manipulate your will so that it matched mine. I’m adept at that, even if I have been making a muck of other things since we got here.”

Margaret wished she could refute his confidence that he could manipulate her sensually. Even for a moment she’d like to refute it, just to put a dent in his colossal ego. But since he might see that as a dare and feel the need to prove his point, she opted for good sense over pride and refrained.

“What muck are you talking about? What hasn’t gone as you intended?” Sebastian told her about his frustrating conversation with Juliette. When he was done, Margaret said thoughtfully, “Well, there you have it, a case of revenge netting more than she bargained for.”

“Perhaps,” he replied. “I understand why Juliette would want to marry Denton after Giles died.

She needed a husband, and once I was disowned, Denton became a good candidate, being an earl’s heir. Now they appear to loathe each other, but she might be willing to wait for Denton’s inheritance. The question is why does he remain married to her when he’s told me he’d love to quit the marriage?” Sebastian shook his head. “For all their animosity toward each other, they seem to be connected in some intimate way, as if they’re both guarding the same secret. By the by, my father is also hiding something.” Margaret blinked, incredulous. Douglas, like Abigail, was too straightforward to harbor secrets.

“What d’you mean, hiding?”

“Nothing that I can put my finger on exactly. It’s just that when he told me the same thing he told you about the accidents, he actually seemed a tad embarrassed about it. There was also a not so brief pause.”

“Indicating?”

“My guess would be that he wasn’t quite sure which answer to give me.” She tsked. “He’s just recovering from an extreme fever. Any pauses in his speech might be related to his health. He could have been out of breath. He could have been dealing with pain from his wound.

That hasn’t completely healed yet. He could simply have been too weak for the type of interrogation you’

re capable of.”

“I’ve considered all that, Maggie. But I’m going with my gut instinct. He’s hiding something. And as soon as we know what that is, I think your fears will be put to rest and I can get the hell out of here.”
Chapter 35

M
ARGARET WASN’T REASSURED by Sebastian’s final account. In fact, his “get the hell out of here” put quite a damper on her mood for the rest of the day. He hated being in England. He had never pretended otherwise. She had a feeling that even if he had been able to reconcile with Douglas, he’d still feel the same way. He’d made another life for himself, one that was at odds with his role in society here in England.

The trouble was, she had started hoping that he might feel differently. She wasn’t sure when she did, but it had definitely been in the last couple of days when her hopes had been so high that he and his father could make amends. Then he might want to stay. Then he might want…

She pushed those thoughts away. Who was she kidding? The man would make a terrible husband, at least for her. She had enjoyed her own independence too long to want to succumb to such a high-handed man. She liked making her own decisions. She liked having complete control over her life.

Someone like him would take all that from her. It would be his way or no way. He would probably even drag her off to Europe if she were foolish enough to marry him for real.

A small voice in her head asked if that would be so bad, if she’d really mind where she lived as long as it was with him. The thought thrilled and terrified her at once, so she quickly shoved it away. No, a real marriage to Sebastian was out of the question. Not that he was asking her. Not that he’d given any indication that he wanted more than a brief sojourn in her bed. She’d tried to read more into his interest in her. She had to stop doing that.

There was no safe place in Edgewood where she could be assured that Sebastian wouldn’t misbehave. He’d kissed her in the entryway, in the parlor, at the top of the stairs, and in her room. The only thing she could be slightly sure of was that there was at least safety in numbers. So she spent the rest of the afternoon with Abigail, and before dinner, well, she simply couldn’t avoid visiting Douglas any longer.

She dreaded it, though. She stood outside his door for nearly five minutes, she was so nervous.

She might have managed to carry off “the lie” with the others, but Douglas was different. Sebastian had put it aptly today when he admitted he couldn’t lie to his father. She found she felt the same way. Douglas represented a parental figure. She never would have considered lying to her own father.

She took a deep breath, put on a smile, and knocked on his door. The maid let her in. He was awake. She’d been hoping for a reprieve, that he wouldn’t be. Ah, well. Not many of her hopes had been realized lately.

He was propped up in his bed. He put down the book that he’d been reading. A lamp had been lit next to him, even though there was still a little late afternoon light coming in through the windows. No sunlight, though. A thick bank of clouds had arrived just as she and Sebastian had left The Dueling Rock.

“Maggie, have you been avoiding me?”

She sighed as she sat down in the chair next to his bed. “Yes, actually, but then you know how I am. Once I start chattering, there’s no end to it. I have been reminded of that quite frequently lately,” she added with a frown. “But Dr. Culden stressed that rest for you right now is extremely important. I just didn’t want to disturb your rest, or I would have come to see you sooner.”

“Nonsense. If I rest anymore I will grow roots in this bed.” She grinned. “I know you can’t tolerate inactivity, but you really must try for a few more days at least. How is your wound?”

“Tolerable at this point.”

“You had us all quite worried.”

He raised a brow at her. “And you even prior to this last accident? Maggie, why the devil didn’t you come to me with your fears? You didn’t have to gallivant across Europe to find him.” She blushed at the scolding, but she was also surprised he’d made reference to Sebastian. Was he actually willing to talk about him? Not that she wanted to. Heavens, no, that could lead to what Sebastian wanted to avoid.

She had to think fast to keep the subject neutral, without mention of the “marriage.” “I’m sorry if his presence has upset you, Douglas. But I did come to you, if you’ll recall.”

“And I assured you there was nothing unusual to be concerned about with the accidents.”

“Yes, you did. But I’m afraid I imagined otherwise. Nothing I could put my finger on, mind you, just nagging ‘feelings’ that something wasn’t quite right.” She was doubtful that he would leave it at that when his frown appeared, so she added abruptly, “He’s very good at investigation. It’s part and parcel of what he does now. I merely thought he might be able to, well, at least put my misgivings to rest.” He sighed but reached for her hand so he could pat it. “I could wish you had simply believed me on the matter, but it’s all right, m’dear. You needn’t feel guilty about bringing him here.” She managed not to blink. Did she look guilty? She must for him to have drawn that conclusion.

She tried to look relieved and gave him another smile. “I can assure you he’s not going to stay.

You needn’t worry about that. He didn’t want to come here. I had to somewhat coerce him.” Oddly, he sighed again, as if that wasn’t what he’d hoped to hear. “I’m not surprised,” he said, then, “How did you find him?”

She agonized for a moment about telling him the truth. She wished she knew what Sebastian had told him, but that dratted man didn’t relate much of their conversation. However, she was sure that he hadn’t mentioned anything about their supposed marriage, so she opted for the truth herself.

“It was actually rather funny,” she admitted. “I went to him to find him. Yes, I know that doesn’t make sense, but you see, he uses a different name in Europe. He’s known simply as The Raven. Quite a glowing reputation he has, actually, for getting things done. Never fails to complete a job successfully.”

“Never?” Douglas asked with interest.

“Indeed. Rather sterling, his reputation.”

“What exactly is it that he does, aside from investigation? Or is that it?” She frowned. “You know, I never asked for a full description. I assumed he is somewhat of a mercenary, you know, people go to him when all else fails, that sort of thing. I merely assumed that he took on all manner of jobs, though he is particular. Won’t work for a woman,” she said in disgust.

“Which was why I had to coerce him, as I mentioned. Perhaps you can ask him.” At his renewed frown, she stood up to make a quick exit and amended, “Or not. But goodness, I’ve talked your ear off as usual. Your dinner will be here soon, and I must change for mine. I’ll return in the morning.” She was almost out the door. She heard him call her name to come back, but she decided on prudence and pretended not to hear him. Her heart was pounding. She probably shouldn’t have revealed as much as she had about Sebastian. He might not have wanted his father to know about The Raven.

Her dratted nervous chatter. It was going to be her undoing one of these days.

M
ARGARET SLAMMED HER FORK DOWN on the table, glowered at Sebastian and warned sharply,

“Don’t talk to me!” Thus was the scene set for their “spat” at dinner that night. Sebastian made no remark. He merely sighed and rolled his eyes at his grandmother to indicate it wasn’t his fault that Margaret was suddenly annoyed with him.

Juliette wasn’t there to smirk about it. Denton had mentioned she was suffering from a headache and wouldn’t be dining with them this evening. Which was too bad, Margaret thought. She would have at least provided a distraction. The dinner was entirely too quiet with Margaret supposedly stewing too much to contribute to the conversation.

She left early so the others could relax and finish their dinner without the tension she’d raised.

After such a gloomy day, thoughts and weather both, she wanted a nice hot bath to while away in for an hour or so. At least her plan had worked, and Sebastian now had his “reason” to request his own room.

He should have done so sooner, the dratted man.

Bubbles were in order, lots of them. And some scented oil. Edna knew her well and had packed the “essentials,” as Margaret called them, even for such a short stay.

Actually, they seemed to have come to a dead end as far as Sebastian’s strategy was concerned.

Of course, it would probably take a little time to arrange an “accident” for him, if Juliette thought to go that route. Margaret really didn’t like him setting himself up for that. Of course, he’d be expecting it, would have the advantage, but still…

Maybe it was time for some bluntness instead of strategies. Juliette might open up more with her—

no, she’d see Margaret as being in the enemy camp now. Denton? Now there was a thought. Not having known before that he’d like to divorce his wife, she’d never asked him about it herself. If she could approach the subject carefully with him…She’d have to give that some thought.

The bathwater was perfect. Edna had seen to that before she’d left. Margaret slid slowly into the water, letting the oil and bubbles caress her skin before she lay back in the tub, closed her eyes, and relaxed, with only her head and arms out of the water.

A brazier in the corner kept the room toasty warm. There were no drafts to disturb the tranquil mood she sought—and then there was.

She opened her eyes to see if Edna had come back for something. No indeed. Sebastian was standing halfway between the tub and the door he’d just opened. He was already removing his coat.

She didn’t gasp or dive under the water as she’d done the last time he’d intruded on her privacy while bathing, but she did point a stiff finger at the door. “I gave you the perfect excuse to ask for your own room,” she reminded him. “What the devil are you doing in here again?”

“You set up the story, m’dear. I’m going to finish it for you,” he told her. “This is the part where we make up.”