My Lord Rogue (12 page)

In the resounding quiet and warm
heavenly
euphoria
the bath provided
, her muscles finally relaxed.
Truth settled over her like a weighted anvil. She and Simon would be better off
never
seeing
each other again
,
as much as
the
thought pained her
.

~~~~

January
25
^th
,
1796

Lucien stood facing
her, his eyes level under dark brows as she timidly accepted his ring. His expression ranged from incredulity to astonishment
as he gently held her fingers and the vicar began to speak.

“Do you take this woman
to be your lawfully wedded
wife?”

“I do.”

The vicar turned to Gillian.
“Do you take this man to be your
lawfully wedded
husband?”

Gillian hesitated slightly and gazed over Lucien’s shoulder. Simon stood
there
,
solemnly watching,
alongside St. Luke’s
groundskeeper
,
to
witness their vows. Unspoken pain reflected in his eyes as their gazes locked. She could have said
no
. She could have turned and walked away. But she didn’t.
She’d lost everything when Simon had declared himself a married man and out of her reach.

“I do,” she said, feeling numb to the marrow of her bones.

The vicar, misinformed as to the reason for their marriage, beamed
excitedly
. “
Then
I now pronounce you man and wife.”

~~~~

November
5
^th
, 1801

Gillian opened her
eyes and gazed down at her wedding band just as a
strange fizzling sound fractured the silence
.

Startled, she
sprang to attention
and scrambled to grab one of her pistols, sloshing water over the sides of the tub, before
searching
the room
for the cause
.
Had Napoleon’s men infiltrated Simon’s
townhouse? Had they found her
?
Was a fuse even now being lit to
engulf the room in flames, to
silence her
, to repay her for spoiling
Fouché’s
plot against Nelson
? She stifled an urge to scream and
held her breath as
a light blazed
i
n a dark corner
of the room
then
disappeared. A
glowing ember took form.

“Forgive my momentary amusement.”

Simon!
Good God!
Her mind struggled for thought and an unbidden heat coiled in her belly.
Why was Simon skulking in the darkness like a thief? Suddenly it dawned on her.
He’d come for retribution.

She
blinked once, twice
, willing this
shameful experience to
be
over
.
“How did you get in here?”
she blurted, scarcely recognizing her own voice.
Had he come through the door while she’d been under water?
Or had he been there from the first?
That thought turned her insides molten.

“I particularly like the hiding place under your left breast.”

Her left breast?
He’d seen
her remove
the dagger she kept hidden there?
Why
that meant —
he’d seen everything
— her short stays, shift, naked body
…
A
nd
the
scars
!
Highly aroused with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation,
Gillian sought cover beneath the water. “How dare you!”

“
No, Gillian.
How dare you
?
” he
demanded
, his contemptuous tone rattling her to her core
.
The tip of his cigar glowed red as he took another
excruciatingly long
puff. “I
don’t
know what
kind of
game you are
playing
, but my
home, my
wife is off limits. Do not enter my house again, unless you
are invited through
the front door.”

“
Again?
” she blurted, barely recognizing her own voice
as she struggled with the absurdity of entering Simon’s sacrosanct domain
.
“
Hardly.”

“I repeat. Do not enter my house again, unless you
are invited
.”

She harrumphed. “
Y
ou gave me no choice.”

“
No choice? W
hat do you call that tub, this bed chamber
, this townhouse?”

He was right.
He’d given her shelter. He’d offered her a way to remain in his life, with or without his love
, at a time she had nowhere else to go
.
She
’d been wrong to interfere. She
shouldn’t have snuck into his house and confronted his wife
, but h
er curiosity had gotten the best of her.
She couldn’t
agree to help Simon
or refuse to
participate in
Nelson’s Tea
with
out
discovering the truth about
Simon’s wife
. What was it that had
bound
him to her
?
What made it so hard to leave?
N
ow she knew
.
It was more than matrimony.
More than a contract between families.
He was bound by h
onor
, d
uty.
The very qualities she adored in him.
And t
he reality
was
more painful than anything she could have imagined. His wife
might be dying, but
Simon,
good, honorable man that
he
was
, wouldn’t leave her
. He wasn’t going to throw
Lady Edwina
away, especially
when she
needed him
.
His morals and ethics
disallowed
that notorious
choice
.

“If you’d allow me to explain, I—”

“Wi
ll sit there and let me finish,” he said with a
steel-edged tone.
The water
cooled and she began to shiver
. Or was it the
icy
tone of his voice making the air bitter cold
? “
You galloped away on that horse before I could reveal why I married Edwina, but there is nowhere for you to run now. You will listen to what I have to say.
There will be no next time.
”

Her breath caught.
He didn’t need to pound his authority home.
“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“
Of course
.
This time,
I’ve committed the ultimate sin by desiring to know where I stand.
I’ll
pack my things and be gone by morning.”

His laughter, hard, deep
,
and strangely seductive, made her shiver. “You
most certainly
will not.”

“But I thought—”

“You are an educated woman with ideals and fascinating talents, but
here
you are wrong. I
don’t
want you to leave.
In fact, I forbid it.
”

“What then?” she asked
perplexed
. “If not to punish me for overstepping, for loving you so much that I had to see a side of yourself you would never freely reveal to me, then what?”

He sighed, the sound
grating harshly in the air
. “Gillian.
When you come to
Curzon Street
, use the front door.”

“I will never
set foot
on Curzon
—”

“Ah!”
That telltale sizzle fractured the air again.
He lit a candle and light
illuminated
hi
s face
, allowing her to see more than the end of his cigar for the first time
since he’d alerted her to his presence
.

As he perused her
at his leisure
, h
is eyes blazed
with
desire and her
body immediately acknowledged the power of his passion
ate stare
. Her
nipples
perked into tight peaks
, in spite of her concerted efforts to control her body,
and her breasts swelled beneath the water’s brim
, aching for
his touch
.

“Never make a vow you will regret,” he said, his gaze
passing
over her exposed
shoulders
like a silk
en
caress
.

Her brows furrowed.
“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough.”

She gasped
,
and to her dismay, her voice broke slightly
. “How long is long enough?”

H
is
magnetic gaze stroked her
where she yearned for his hands to touch. “Time has been good to you, Gillian.”

“As it has you,” she said
, her voice a tremulous whisper
.

She loved everything about
Simon
, most especially his sense of duty. How he’d arrived before her was no mystery. She’d chosen to walk slowly in order to collect her thoughts
, to rid herself of guilt for loving a married man, an unfulfilled love that cut her to the quick
. The decision to leave him hadn’t come eas
il
y, but it had been the
obvious
alternative. Even now he posed too much of a temptation, an impediment to her
already shattered
heart.
If she stayed, could she bear
their distance
? Never touching him, never truly knowing
what it would be like to be caressed,
to
be loved… to be possessed by
him
?

“
I cannot bear to be this close to you without experiencing your love
.” There she’d said it.
Relief washed over her
with vengeance
.

Simon
’s jaw tensed and he frowned miserably
. “
You have endured worse
.”

He was wrong. Nothing compared to this heartache.

He rose from his position in the corner and walked toward her
, his
eyes
sparking with desire,
hinting he was going to do something that would jeopardize both of them
.
She ached for whatever he had in mind more than anything she’d ever wanted before. And yet she couldn’t allow it.

She shrank
back,
suddenly awkward, skittish, and afraid.
F
earful f
or him. Herself
. For what crossing th
at
threshold
would do to further tear at the fragile thread holding her together
.

“You are tired,” he said, his
possessive
stare
roaming over her body
in the hearth light
. “How long has it been since you’ve slept? Twenty-four hours? Forty-eight?”

She paused to think. How long had it been? Only two days since she’d left Lucien?
“
Closer to f
orty-eight,” she replied
, shivering
as his eyes stroked her in ways he couldn’t
with his hands
.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “This is wrong. You mustn’t.”

He
said nothing as he
reached for a cloth and
a bar of soap
.
A
nticipation
shot through her. She
refused to breath as he
leaned her forward with his broad, square palm
.
Heaven help her, would she survive?
He lathered
the cloth and strok
ed
her back in soothing circles
, exerting little pressure, his touch purposeful, not seductive
.
W
as
this
how he
ministered to
Edwina
?
The very idea
that he would treat her like his wife sickened her
.
Torment began to gnaw at her
belly
.
And yet she didn’t want him to stop.

He leaned down, his mouth close, hovering
near her neck
, his breath
eliciting sensations that sent
tendrils of fire
racing
through her veins
.
Hair on her neck stood on end as he whispered in her ear,
“
I cannot be with you now,
but
I will not lose you again
, Gillian
.
”

“Simon!”

A sob overtook her
,
and s
he
wept
,
spilling out her heartache
. How unfair life was. Their
positions in society
at great odds
, his marriage,
longing for
what she couldn’t have, knowing it took great effort and cut into Simon’s strict
moral
code to
comfort and care for her as
he did
even now
.
One hand cupped her close, while the fingers on his other hand traced an imaginary path across her back, soothing her, comforting her in ways that bound
them tighter than before
.