Authors: Lynsay Sands
“Thank you,” Lisa murmured, picking up her drumstick again and this time taking a bite. A little sigh of pleasure slid from her lips as the flavor of roast chicken filled her mouth. It was heavenly, even cold. But then she was hungry enough that she suspected even porridge would have tasted delicious at that point, and she disliked porridge.
“Slow down,” Robert cautioned as she swallowed and immediately took a second bite. “Your stomach may still be a little tender. You don’t want to make yourself sick again.”
“No, I don’t,” Lisa agreed dryly, forcing herself to set the drumstick down and instead pick up the tea he’d just poured for her. They were silent for a bit after that, both of them eating and enjoying the tea. It was only after they’d both pushed their plates away that Lisa glanced to him and said quietly, “Thank you, Robert.”
“For what?” he asked with surprise. “I didn’t bring the food. Bet did.”
She smiled faintly at his confusion and explained, “Not for that. For . . . well, everything else,” she said wryly. “For coming for me at Mrs. Morgan’s. For looking out for me since then and for chasing after that man tonight. I know I have given you a hard time, but I do appreciate it. I guess my pride was just hurting a bit after that business in the carriage. But you were right,” she rushed on when he would have interrupted. “While I had a crush on you while growing up, we have been too close for too long ever to turn our relationship into anything more than one resembling siblings. Now, I can’t even imagine you kissing me or caressing my cheek the way Charlie did the other night. The very idea is laughable.”
Standing up, Lisa moved around the table to bend and kiss his cheek, then straightened and moved to the bed, undoing and removing her robe as she went.
“Good night, Robert,” she finished around a yawn. “I hope you sleep well. I certainly shall, knowing you are here, just a shout away, to watch over me.”
She then slid into bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and closed her eyes.
R
obert stared at the bed for several minutes, her words replaying themselves in his head. She couldn’t even imagine him kissing or caressing her as Findlay had? Well, he bloody well could. And he’d have done a damned sight better job than the tepid efforts he’d witnessed from Findlay at the ball the night before, he thought.
But it was a fleeting thought. His mind was full of the image of the way her robe and gown had gaped as she’d bent to kiss his cheek. He’d seen damned near all the way down to her belly button as she’d done it, though he was sure she had no clue of the view he’d had. And then when she’d tugged off her robe to crawl into bed, the neckline had dropped off on one side, revealing a good expanse of one creamy shoulder. Now she was lying there, not more than a few feet away, naked but for a thin nightgown, completely unconcerned that a red-blooded male was still sitting there. And he
was
red-blooded. That blood was pulsing through his body hot and strong right then.
But did Lisa care? Hell no. It seemed she’d decided he was right and she was better off with one of those addlepated idiots who had been fawning over her the last few days.
Damn. She was going to be the death of him if he didn’t get this business resolved soon and get away from her, he thought grimly and stood to quickly gather the tray and carry it from the room.
“Good night, Robert,” Lisa murmured as he reached the door and it was the sexiest damned sound he’d ever heard: soft and sleepy, almost a whisper. He could imagine her saying his name just that way, but in sleepy greeting as he slid into bed next to her, his naked body sliding against hers.
She was definitely going to be the death of him, Robert decided. He didn’t respond to her words, but simply headed silently up the hall, his expression unhappy.
“I
hope you are feeling better, Miss Madison.”
Lisa turned from Suzette to peer at the man who had spoken, her eyes widening slightly when she saw that it was Lord Pembroke . . . whom she was supposed to stay away from. She should have realized he would attend the ball.
“Oh, yes, I—How did you know I was ill?” she asked suddenly, suspicion crowding her mind.
Pembroke’s eyebrows rose slightly at the sharp question, but he explained gently, “Because when I sent a calling card today, your sister responded that you were feeling poorly and not accepting visitors in favor of resting up and recovering for tonight’s ball. And then Tibald just told me that you were apparently unwell last night and didn’t make an appearance then either.”
“Oh, yes,” Lisa murmured on a sigh, feeling guilty for her brief suspicions. Really, after some thought she found it hard to believe Pembroke could be behind her sudden illness. He seemed a very nice and likeable man. And handsome as he was, it was hard to believe he had to kidnap young women. Most would probably throw themselves at his feet, which reminded her of something Mrs. Morgan had said about the suitor and made her suspicions rise again.
“Are you feeling better?” Pembroke asked gently, reminding her of his earlier question.
“Oh, yes, thank you,” she responded, her smile a bit forced now. “Much better.”
“Good,” he said with a nod. “Then I hope you saved a dance for me.”
“Oh . . . I don’t think . . .” She made a show of searching the bag at her waist for her dance card, her mind working as she tried to word the lie that she didn’t have a single dance left.
However, she was stymied in her efforts to do as Robert wanted and avoid the man when Suzette said, “I have your card, dear. Remember Daniel asked you to save a dance for him and I was filling it in for you.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Lisa muttered, turning to her.
“And you do have a dance or two left,” Suzette said cheerfully. “See? A quadrille and a waltz. In fact, the waltz still available is the first song of the night and should be starting any moment.”
Lisa froze as Suzette stuck the card under her nose so she could see.
“Delightful. I would love to dance the waltz with you,” Lord Pembroke said, seeming quite pleased with how things had turned out.
“Oh, yes, of course then,” Lisa said faintly, accepting the card to pencil in his name. What else could she do at that point?
Nothing that she could think of, unfortunately, and Lisa instinctively looked around for Robert. He was going to be annoyed, of course, but there was nothing she could do about that now, she thought, almost relieved when she saw that he was leading Daniel and Richard from the ballroom. No doubt in search of someplace to tell them about the events of the night before, she supposed. She knew he hadn’t got the chance before now. Christiana and Richard had been very late returning from the ball last night, and Robert had said he’d dozed off and missed their arrival. Richard had also apparently been up and gone before Robert rose that morning, returning just in time to rush above stairs and change for the ball.
She was quite sure they were about to get the news of last night’s events now.
“It’s starting. Shall we?”
Lisa forced a smile and accepted Lord Pembroke’s arm, assuring herself as she went that all would be well. He would hardly try to drag her kicking and screaming from the dance floor. And, hopefully, the dance would be over before Robert returned to the room.
“Are you sure you are feeling well, Miss Madison?”
Lisa glanced up and managed a smile. “Yes. I . . . well, actually no, not really,” she said, thinking she’d found a way to avoid this dance after all. “Perhaps I should skip this dance, my lord.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, all solicitous at once. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been ill for the last day and night. Perhaps you shouldn’t have even come tonight.”
“No, I probably shouldn’t have,” Lisa agreed as he began to lead her from the floor, but even as she said it, she realized that was a mistake. Her dance card was full. How would it look if she were to dance with everyone else after claiming she didn’t feel well enough to dance with him? Lisa was so vexed at the pickle she’d somehow got herself into that it wasn’t until a cool breeze brushed her cheek that she realized he’d led her outside on to the terrace. Damn, this was worse than dancing with him. Robert would be beyond furious with her.
“I thought some fresh air would help,” Pembroke said with concern, apparently noting her dismay. “You have a full dance card and some gentlemen aren’t as understanding as myself about these things and might insist you dance. Perhaps some fresh air will help you through the rest of the night.”
“Oh, I—Yes, of course. Hopefully it will help,” she ended lamely, glancing nervously about and relieved to see that they were not alone on the terrace. She was less relieved when he began to lead her to the stairs down into the garden, however.
“Oh, my lord, I don’t think we should venture far. My sisters will worry,” she said anxiously, dragging her feet.
“We won’t go far,” he assured her soothingly, urging her along. “There is a bench just there and I thought you might do better to sit quietly for a bit and breathe deeply. It might make you feel better.”
“Oh.” Lisa bit her lip and glanced from the house to the bench he was gesturing to. It was close enough she could see it, but it was in shadow. It was possible he planned to knock her out and cart her off, or simply drag her off as the man last night had tried to do. Although it would mean getting her over the wall surrounding the large gardens. But the man last night hadn’t seemed worried about dragging her out a window and down a tree.
Come to think of it, how the heck had he thought he would accomplish that? She wondered about that suddenly and found herself halfway to the bench before she managed to shift her thoughts to the problem at hand. But it mattered little. She couldn’t come up with a single thing to make him turn back toward the house. Lisa supposed she would just have to hope he didn’t have any nefarious plans and that she was returned safely to the house . . . and before Robert returned from talking with Richard and Daniel.
It was a lot to pin her hopes on, Lisa acknowledged unhappily as Pembroke led her the last few feet to the bench.
“Here we are,” Pembroke murmured. “Please sit and we shall just enjoy the night air for a bit. It is nicer this way anyway. We can better talk. Although, of course, it means losing out on the chance to hold you in my arms,” he admitted wryly as he settled beside her and then added, “But then perhaps I can do both.”
“Er,” Lisa said uncertainly and then cut herself off on a gasp of surprise as he suddenly turned to slide his arms around her and draw her against his chest.
“Relax,” he said soothingly. “I am just going to hold you while we sit here. After all, it is really not that different to my holding you on the dance floor, is it?”
Lisa stared at the shoulder she was pressed against, her eyes wide. It certainly was different. On the dance floor he would never dare hold her this closely. Nor would he let his hands roam over her back so freely as he pressed her tight to his chest.
“My lord,” she said, trying to ease away by leveraging her arms against his chest. “This really isn’t proper.”
“I know, but I can’t help myself,” Pembroke sighed, squeezing her closer still despite her efforts. “I find myself quite overcome in your presence, Lisa. May I call you Lisa?” Before she could reply, he continued, “I have never encountered quite such a lovely creature as you in my life. The things I dream about doing to you.” He released a gusty sigh, and then added, “Of course, I would be most pleased if you would consent to be my wife too.”
“Er . . .” Lisa said, still struggling to put some space between them. Honestly, she was beginning to have trouble breathing with his pressing her so tightly to him and she began to worry that perhaps that was the point. Smothering her into a faint, perhaps, and then dragging her off to ravish and marry. Mrs. Morgan did say that the suitor wished to do both.
Good Lord, she never should have come out here with him. The thought was enough to send panic through her, followed closely by a sudden rush of strength that caught Pembroke by surprise and allowed her to break the embrace. She almost sent him crashing to the ground in her fervor to be free, but he managed to save himself. By the time he regained his balance and straightened, however, Lisa was on her feet and hurrying back the way they’d come.
“Miss Madison!”
“Miss Madison.”
One call came from Pembroke behind her, but the other came from in front and Lisa chose to turn her attention to the one in front, beaming a relieved smile on Lord Tibald as she recognized the man walking down the steps toward her.
“My lord,” she greeted the newcomer a little breathlessly as she paused before him. She took a quick nervous glance over her shoulder to see Pembroke hurrying toward them, and skirted around the other man, toward the stairs.
“Go ahead,” Tibald said gently, giving her a gentle push. “I shall handle him. He had a bit too much to drink before the ball and is notoriously difficult when in his cups.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Lisa said with relief and hurried up the stairs and across the terrace. She had nearly reached the doors when a dark shape swooped out of the shadows, caught her arm in a steel grip and urged her along the terrace to the doors of a dark room. Lisa was so taken by surprise, she didn’t even scream or struggle until it was too late and she was being bundled into the lightless room.
“What the devil did you think you were doing? I told you not to go near Pembroke and yet I return to have Suzette tell me that you were dancing the waltz with him. Only you weren’t anywhere on the dance floor; you’d allowed him to take you outside.”
“Robert,” Lisa said with relief, recognizing his voice as he closed the terrace doors, enclosing them in darkness.
“Dammit Lisa, I am doing my best to keep you safe,” he muttered as he struck a match and used it to light a candle on a nearby table before continuing. “But it would help if you would use some common sense and not throw yourself into danger at every turn.”
“Throw myself into danger at every turn?” she gasped with amazement as he turned to glare at her.
“Yes,” he snapped with frustration. “Running off to tea in brothels, opening your window to kidnappers and disappearing to the gardens with a man who could be the one behind all your trouble. What the hell are you thinking?”
“I didn’t know Mrs. Morgan ran a brothel!” Lisa protested with outrage. “And I certainly didn’t open the window for that man, I just wanted some fresh air and—dammit! I didn’t want to leave the ballroom tonight. And I didn’t want him mauling me as he was. In fact I was struggling to get free.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t look like you were struggling in Pembroke’s arms down there in the gardens,” he snarled. “You looked as cozy as a two-bit—”
His words broke off in surprise as her hand connected with his cheek in a sharp slap that echoed in the sudden silence.
Lisa was rather shocked that she’d done it. She hadn’t intended to, didn’t even realize she was going to until her hand connected with his face. Now she watched Robert raise a hand to the cheek she’d hit, and arch an eyebrow as he rubbed it.
“Interesting. You’ll slap me, where you didn’t slap him, yet claim you were unwilling. I guess that says just how unwilling you really were.”
Lisa’s hand flew up again, but this time he caught it.
“Once will do,” he growled, holding her by the wrist firmly. “Try it again and I shall have to punish you.”
In response, Lisa let her other hand fly. She was so mad she wanted to flail at him; hit, slap, scratch and even pull hair. But she suspected it wasn’t just anger at Robert for what he’d nearly said. She was furious that he was too obtuse to love her, angry that she’d felt so helpless in Lord Pembroke’s hold until she’d broken free. Mad as hell that a woman she’d thought was a friend had tried to kidnap and drug her, primp and present her for the pleasure of some unknown man, and downright enraged that that unknown man thought he could and should be able to ravish and marry her if he so chose, against her will or not. She was mad about everything, and Robert was a handy target, so she let her other hand fly too.
But he caught her second hand as well. They glared at each other briefly, both breathing heavily with an excess of emotion, and then Robert suddenly used his hold on her wrists to tug her forward against his chest and then swung her arms down and behind her back, forcing her closer against his chest as he covered her mouth with his.
As punishments went . . . well . . . she rather liked it, Lisa decided as his mouth moved firmly over hers and urged her lips open. He definitely kissed differently from Lord Findlay. There was no softness here, no nipping, or nibbling, no teasing or that feeling of wanting something more, something that was undefinable to her. She was now getting the something more—Robert’s tongue thrashing her own and then receding before returning to slide around hers again. That was what had been missing with Findlay, Lisa realized as she responded to the kiss, her body pressing instinctively closer and her tongue entering the dance.
“Christ,” Robert muttered, tearing his mouth from hers to pepper kisses across her cheek and then down her neck to nibble, suck and nip there.
Lisa moaned in response, struggling instinctively to free her hands to touch him.
“You’re driving me insane,” he growled, shifting her wrists to one of his hands so that his other could slip around and move up her waist.
Lisa gasped, rising up on tiptoe as his hand closed over one breast through her gown, trying to escape the caress even as she instinctively arched to press into it. She moaned when his mouth then trailed down across her collarbone, toward her neckline and then whispered his name urgently as she felt him tugging at the neckline of her gown, trying to free her breast as his tongue crested the slope above it.
Much to her relief, he freed her wrists then, allowing her to slip her arms around his shoulders as he brought his other hand around to work at the difficult neckline of her gown until he got one breast free. Robert immediately latched onto it, squeezing the soft globe as he sucked the entire nipple and aureola into his mouth.