To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (12 page)

Chapter Ten

He finally pushed himself off her, and rose
from the day-bed on shaky legs. He walked to fetch them sustenance
because he needed a minute to process his feelings. He hadn’t
expected to be so moved by the connection he’d just had with
Sabine. What they had just shared was unlike anything he’d ever
experienced with any other woman before.

He collected their wine glasses and then
selected a plate of meats for them.

“Do you think we’ll ever make it to a bed?”
she asked teasingly.

He paused to stare at Sabine. Lying naked on
the plush silk of the day-bed, her skin flushed with arousal, she
looked like a goddess. His body stirred once more.

“Not if you continue to stare at me like
that,” he answered honestly. “Let’s eat. I’m starving. I’ve been
playing cards all day, remember?” He let his gaze wander longingly
over her breasts. “Besides, I think I’m going to need sustenance in
order to not disappoint you for the rest of the night.”

She blushed at his bold stare and remark.
But then she turned saucy and began to study him with appreciation.
“Oh, I’m hungry too,” she purred, “but not for food.”

Naked desire flared again and sped through
has veins. It was close to two in the morning, and they’d just
made-love, yet his body craved hers once more as an addict craved
opium.

“Tonight has already exceeded my wildest
fantasizes. To have you wanton and eager in my arms is a dream, but
what about tomorrow, Sabine?” He ran a hand through his hair. “This
time,
no
secrets so no one gets hurt. What is it you want
from me?”

The smile fled from her eyes. “Earlier this
evening you released me from our wager. I gave myself to you of my
own free will.” She looked away and uttering softly, “One night,
Marcus. It can only be one night and you know it. Too much has
happened in our past to think we could make more of this. I have a
son to think about. And you need to marry. Your mother thinks Amy
Shipton would be a good choice.” She swallowed hard. “And she is.
She would do the Wolverstone name proud.” She turned back to him
and looked directly at his face. “This is something my name could
never do. Besides, your mother would never accept me.”

He fought the urge to drop to his knees and
vehemently deny her statement. Surely, they could make a life
together, couldn’t they? But only if he could truly trust her.

Unless she confessed what had happened all
those years ago, he would never be able to fully give her his
heart. Eventually, if she couldn’t confide in him or trust him to
understand, the not knowing would turn him bitter and resentful.
He’d always be suspicious of her.

The way her sad eyes interlocked with his,
he knew she understood what he was thinking, but her lips remained
closed.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t ruin
such a perfect night, Marcus, with these painful, stupid
memories.”

“If that’s all they are, painful, stupid,
then tell me what happened, and end my suffering. Let us clear away
what happened in the past and then perhaps we can make a life
together. I’d trust you enough to do that if you confessed the
cause of your treatment of me. For pity sakes, just this once prove
to me I’m the most important thing in your life and you’d do
anything to be with me.”

She stretched out her hand to him in appeal,
yet he would not budge. He would never trust her with his heart
without first understanding what had happened.

Her hand fell back to the couch. “Do you
want me to leave?” she asked quietly.

His heart closed up tighter than the clutch
of a child frightened by a nightmare. Sabine would never love him
like he craved her to. He’d been a fool to dream otherwise. The
woman he’d fallen in love with in the gardens long ago was a
figment of his deluded mind.

Henry had been right. He should find someone
more worthy. Amy Shipton’s innocent and beautiful face appeared in
his mind’s eye.

He opened his eyes and looked at the beauty
lying provocatively on his daybed. His body wanted to sink again
deep between those lovely pale thighs. His physical need was
ferocious, but his mind refused to allow him to contemplate the
act.

He’d set out to bed her, to slake his
revenge, only to discover she still possessed his heart as she had
done for the last ten years. In fact, as she had possessed it ever
since he’d first laid eyes upon her all those years ago. Couldn’t
he simply keep her as his mistress?

No
! He would be strong. He would walk
away before he was unable to do so. Before, he would accept her in
his life on any terms. That would only led to more heartache and
bitterness and he was sick of being unhappy and of only living half
a life; a life of empty pleasures.

He wanted and deserved more.

He put the plate and glasses down. “I can’t
do this. I can’t make love to you again knowing you’re only in it
for the pleasure.”

At her look of shocked surprise, he went on.
“I know of my reputation as a rake better than anyone, but having
you back in my life has taught me I want more than that. I
do
want a home and family. But I want one filled with love
and trust like my parents had.” He walked over to his discarded
clothes and began to dress. “I know I can never have that with you.
You hold too many secrets. You have deliberately kept me out of the
essential aspects of your life.”

Tell him!
Her brain and heart urged
in her head. Tell him and make him understand. Then, cold fear
clawed at her body. If she told him, she knew what he’d do and if,
as a result, he was hurt, or even worse, killed… Or Gower came
after Alfredo… She shuddered at the very idea.

She had no other choice but to let him
go.

She too rose and began to dress, the agony
of her predicament almost ripping her in two. For a brief instant,
she wondered how she was ever going to walk away from this
pleasure—from him–without dying. Then she thought of her son,
Alfredo, and all she risked by staying.

When they were both fully dressed, they
stood looking at each other, sorrow shrouding both their faces.

She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Be
happy, Marcus. You deserve much happiness.”

She watched the man she loved, would love
until her dying breath left her body, briefly close his eyes and
breathe in deeply. She prayed for some sort of miracle. Foolishly,
she prayed he’d pull her into his arms and say the past didn’t
matter; that only she mattered.

“Thank you for a memorable night. I’ll
treasure it always.” The raw emotion behind his words almost saw
her buckle at the knees and throw herself into his arms to confess
all.

“It is
I
who should thank you. You
helped me when you had no reason to.”

“I’d always help you, Sabine. You know that.
You will always be someone special in my life.”

Tears that she thought she’d managed to keep
at bay, slipped silently down her cheeks.

“Come, I’ll see you home.”

Sabine wiped the tears from her cheeks. She
stared at him drinking in one last, yearning look, a look which
would need to last her a life time. His warm amber eyes were pools
of unshed tears, his chest quickly rose and fell and the harsh
planes of his face were drawn tight. She remembered the lean
hardness of his body when it pressed on top of hers. He was so
incredibly handsome it pained her just to look at him.

This was a memory she would cherish
forever.

Pain wrapped an icy hand around her heart.
Now that the moment had come, she hadn’t realized how difficult it
would be to simply walk away from him and from all that she had
ever wanted in life.

Swallowing the anguish welling in her
throat, she nodded, and let him guide her out into the cold and
empty dawn.

Chapter Eleven

“You are leaving England?” Monique’s
startled question must have been heard in her modiste’s salon,
because it suddenly went quiet in the room on the other side of the
curtain. “But your life—your heart—is here,” she added in a subdued
tone.

Sabine shook her head. “No. I was
mistaken.”

Today was Friday. Tonight she would go to
Gower and give him what he desired. Then she would leave England,
never to return. Marcus and Alfredo would be safe.

Just as in her youth, she’d arrogantly
thought she could take on the powerful and win. And, once again,
she was to pay a very heavy price for this.

“Excuse me, Madam Baye, Lady Shipton is
here. Apparently, she needs a new dress urgently for tonight.”

“For tonight? She has a dress, the blue
silk, to wear to the Earl of Skye’s ball.”

“She states she now needs a far grander
dress. Her engagement to Lord Wolverstone will be announced
tonight.”

Sabine gasped and smothered her mouth with
her hand, feeling suddenly nauseous. Two days, he’d waited
only
two days before moving on—without her.

Monique said, “I’ll be there shortly. Show
her ladyship the deep burgundy damask. It will suit her
complexion.”

Sabine rose unsteadily to her feet. “I
should go. You’re busy.”

Monique’s hand gripped her arm. “Is he the
reason why you are leaving? He rebuked you, didn’t he? The
cad…”

“
No
!”

Monique sank into the chair she’d recently
vacated. “Oh my God, you didn’t tell him.” She looked up at Sabine.
“
Why not
? You’ve dealt with Gower. You hold all his vowels.
He’ll have no choice but to leave England….”

Sabine’s mouth dried up. What could she say?
“I under-estimated Gower, yet again. He’s threatened everyone I
love. I can’t risk it.” She turned away from her friend’s searching
gaze as bitterness clogged her throat.

She heard the rustle of Monique’s dress as
she rose and moved behind her. Two warm arms came around her waist
from behind. “What have you agreed to? What does that pig of a man
want from you now that would see you flee back to Italy?”

She sank back against her friend soaking in
the warmth of her sympathy. “He wants me to hand back his vowels
tonight. At his house,” she added in a shaky voice.

Monique’s arms tightened around her. “And?
What else? If you go to his house, you know what will happen.”

A wave of nausea washed over her again and
she swayed. She would have fallen without Monique’s support.

“What else can I do?” she cried. “I won’t
risk Alfredo or Marcus’s lives. He’s threatened them both. He can
make little boys disappear, he said…” She started sobbing
despairingly.

“Gower’s such a bastard. I’d like to kill
him with my own hands. You must go to the magistrate if he’s
threatened Alfredo, or at the very least allow Lord Wolverstone to
help you.”

The curtain between Monique’s showroom and
her private parlor rustled and a young woman stepped into the
room.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing.
Is Lord Wolverstone in danger?”

Amy Shipton stood in the doorway, her
innocent face a dark shadow of concern. She stepped further into
the room.

“I’ve heard that you’re a good friend of
Marcus’s—that is, Lord Wolverstone. You seem very upset, Lady
Orsini. I’m sure he would help you, or at least wish me to offer
help if I’m able.” Her voice was low and gentle and conveyed
nothing but understanding and kindness.

Mortified embarrassment flooded Sabine’s
face. She could barely look Lady Shipton in the eye. This was the
woman who would marry Marcus, share his home and bed, and bear his
children. She’d thought herself numb to the pain, but the sharp
ache in her chest told her otherwise.

Amy was beautiful. With a serene beauty and
blessed with alluringly good looks, a person might be forgiven for
thinking he was gazing upon perfection.

Amy stood full of sympathy, looking between
the two women. The pale rose tint of her gown enhanced her
faultless ivory complexion, while setting off the dark gleam of her
hair. Her dramatic coloring was the complete opposite of Sabine’s
own pale and blonde features. She felt insignificant against the
unusually tall and slender beauty.

In spite of her height, Amy looked as if a
strong wind would break her.

Worse, Amy seemed to know who she was. Had
Marcus discussed her with Amy? How mortifying that thought was!

“Truly, there is no need to bother Lord
Wolverstone with my silly problem.” She shot Monique a warning
look.

Amy kept looking between the two women. “It
doesn’t seem to be a small problem.” She stepped forward. “Oh,
you’ve been crying. Please, let me help.”

Sabine gathered herself together, feeling
inadequate in the face of Lady Shipton’s generous spirit. Perhaps
the young girl was too naive to understand or know the real details
of her relationship with Marcus. She would not hurt her by allowing
the nature of her connection with Amy’s betrothed to raise its
unseemly head.

“Thank you for your concern, Lady Shipton,
but I should be leaving.” She gave the girl a big smile. “I’m
excited to be heading back to Italy tomorrow and I’m simply sad to
be leaving such dear friends behind.”

Amy looked dubious. “Well, if you are sure
that is all it is…”

“I’m sure.” She turned and collected her
cloak from the chair behind her. “I’ll leave you to sort out Lady
Shipton’s dress.” She smiled warmly at the young girl, letting
excitement enter her tone, when she in reality she was choking with
grief inside. “I hear there is to be a big announcement tonight. As
I shall not be present, may I offer you and Lord Wolverstone my
warmest congratulations? He’s a lucky man indeed.”

Amy’s face broke into a smile and she grew
even more beautiful. Sabine could understand why Marcus was
captivated by her. Their children would be stunningly
beautiful.