Read Winter Blockbuster 2012 Online

Authors: Trish Morey,Tessa Radley,Raye Morgan,Amanda McCabe

Winter Blockbuster 2012 (69 page)

BOOK: Winter Blockbuster 2012
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Rob stepped closer slowly, carefully, and took out a packet from inside his cloak. ‘I brought you some thread from London, Mary. Nelly said you required some green silk for a forest scene you are creating.’

‘For me?’ Mary stared at the packet as if it would bite her. Nelly always opened the packets for her when he was safely gone. ‘Why would you bring gifts for me?’

‘Because …’ Against his judgement, Rob took a step closer to her. He knew he had to keep his distance, to be very careful, but sometimes his love for his sister was too strong for
his caution. Her fear was too painful. ‘Because I want you to be happy, Mary. I care about you.’

Some of his pain must have shown, because Mary suddenly shrank back against Nelly with a hoarse sob. ‘But I don’t even know you! Who are you?’

‘Mistress Mary—’ Nelly began, but Mary cut her off with a cry, shaking her head wildly.

‘Who is he?’ Mary cried. ‘Why is here? Has he come to take me away?’

‘Never, Mary,’ Rob said, his heart aching. She only cried louder.

Nelly caught his eye over Mary’s head and gave him a little nod, gesturing toward the door. Even though it went against all his instincts to leave without comforting Mary, he knew Nelly was right. Only his absence would soothe her now.

He spun round and left the sitting room. Once out in the corridor, he slapped his hands against the wall and closed his eyes against the anger and the pain. The raw, burning fury at the men who had done this to Mary. And at himself.

But he could still hear her sobs.

He had not been able to take care of her then. He would now. No matter what he had to do.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Y
OU
do
have fine friends, Rob,’ Anna said with a laugh as their carriage flew past the outskirts of London’s looming buildings and burst out into the wide lanes of the countryside. It was a luxurious conveyance, painted red and black and upholstered in soft velvet cushions. Footmen and outriders in the Hartley livery guarded against highwaymen and vagabonds.

As Anna ran her palm over the lush fabric and rested her feet on the little gilded stool below, Rob sprawled out on the seat next to her. He seemed to match the rich carriage in his fine gold-button-trimmed velvet doublet with the pearl drop in his ear. Gold rings flashed as he reached for her hand.

‘Nothing but the best for you, my lady,’ he said, and kissed her wrist before twining his fingers with hers. ‘You should be carried thus every day, your feet never touching the ground.’

Anna laughed and squeezed his hand. ‘I would never get anywhere in London in such a carriage—it would be much too slow. But it is lovely. It’s like flying out here.’

She peered out of the window to see the country flashing by, a blur of green and brown as they passed hedgerows and towering trees, grey stone walls, a few cottages glimpsed in
the distance and then gone. The wheels bounced along the rutted road, dry and dusty from lack of rain, and she could hear the whistle of the wind past the doors.

‘I can’t believe I have run away like this,’ she said, feeling her heart beat faster, her spirit rising at this change of scene—and at the man who sat beside her, holding her hand. It felt as if she hadn’t just run away from London, from her everyday work and duties, but run
to
Robert. To something she didn’t yet understand and couldn’t put into words, not being a poet like he was—but she knew she needed whatever it was. A deep, secret longing to be free. And it was Rob who made her feel this way, made her feel able to face the world and be bold once again.

She spun towards him on the wide cushioned seat and looped her arms around his neck. He gave her a wide, white grin and reached for her waist to draw her even closer.

He seemed free here, too, as if just leaving London’s walls had lifted a heavy chain from his soul. They could leave all else behind, at least for the short time they were alone here in the carriage, and just be Rob and Anna.

‘I wish I could keep you away for always,’ he said, lowering the leather shade of the curtain to close them in darkness.

‘Always?’

‘Well, at least for a year or two. Or five.’

‘And where would we stay for five years?’ she said, revelling in his smile, his touch. She resolutely pushed away all traces of fear. Today she would be brave. She would enjoy life, enjoy the moment.

‘In an enchanted castle, of course. An ancient stone fortress covered in flowering vines and hidden from the world.’

‘It sounds chilly.’

‘Ah, but you forget—it’s an enchanted castle, with magical hearths that light into warm fires the instant a chill creeps
in. Ghostly servants bring wine and delicacies for the table, and jewels and gossamer silks appear for you to wear. There is sweet, dulcet music and perfumed oils, and long marble halls for you to dance in.’

‘Dance alone?’

‘Never! I will always be there to partner you, whenever you have the whim to dance.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Anna tangled her fingertips in the waves of his hair that fell over the collar of his doublet. It was soft and rough all at the same time, twisting around her. ‘We’ll be alone in this castle?’

‘Until you tire of it and flee from me.’

Anna feared she would never tire of him. There were always new facets of him to discover, new secrets to learn. Would she ever break free of this fascination with him?

One day she would have to. Soon she would have to go back to her quiet life again and forget what the centre stage of life was like. Had to forget Robert. But not yet.

‘I couldn’t tire of a place where my food is prepared and fresh clothes appear whenever I want them,’ she said. ‘No darning, no rent collecting …’

‘Nothing but dancing with me.’

‘I could bear that well enough. For a time.’

‘Then I would have to see to it that you never grow weary of our time together,’ he said softly, and kissed the curve of her cheek, the side of her neck. ‘I would make you my prisoner for all time.’

Anna laughed, and her eyes fluttered closed as the warmth of his kisses flooded into her. Her head fell back as he nudged aside the high edge of her jacket and pressed his mouth to the delicate hollow of her throat.

‘I fear
you
would be the one bored by our little castle,’
she whispered. ‘No admiring audience for your plays, no applause …’

‘You’re the only admiring audience I need, fairest Anna. I would write my poetry only for you.’

His mouth met hers, rough and hungry, as if he was starved for the taste of her. Her lips parted to let him in, their tongues touching, claiming each other and the passion they had held back for too long. Her hands tightened in his hair, holding him with her.

Through the blurry haze of their kiss she felt his touch at the fastenings of her jacket. He tugged them free and she let him push the fabric away from her shoulders. The warm air swept over her through her thin chemise, the confines of her stays, and then his body was against hers.

He pressed her down to the seat, her back to the soft velvet, and eased the chemise out of his way so he could press his hot, open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder, the soft curve of her breast. Her heart pounded and she could only hear the rush of its beating in her ears, the rough sound of his breath. They were all alone in their enchanted world, just as he had said. There was only him and her, their bodies coming together, the exquisite, forgetful pleasure.

‘Rob,’ she gasped as he tugged down the edge of her stays and freed her breast to his avid gaze. The tip of his tongue traced around the pink, puckered aureole and lower, to the soft, sensitive spot just beneath.

She closed her eyes tightly, and bit her lip to keep from shouting out as he drew her nipple deep into his mouth. His hand slid over her hip, the curve of her thigh, to grasp the edge of her skirt. He crumpled it in his fist and dragged it up, up, slowly tracing the wool fabric over her sensitive skin. He didn’t stop until her legs were bare to him, the damp curls between her legs vulnerable.

Her thighs fell open in welcome and he knelt between them as he kissed her other breast. She felt the friction of his breeches against the soft silk of her stockings, the heat and iron strength of his erection.

As their mouths met again in desperate, artless need, Anna slid her hands down Rob’s back. Beneath the layers of his doublet and shirt she felt the ripple and shift of his lean muscles, the power of his shoulders as he braced himself above her. She traced the groove of his spine, the hollow of his back—his hard, taut buttocks.

‘Anna,’ he groaned as she explored the way he felt under her touch.

How strong he was, how beautiful. How she wanted him—more than she had ever wanted anything before. And he wanted her, too. She could feel that very well as she traced the length of his manhood under his velvet breeches. But the fear she had tried to banish rose up in her, cold, bringing her back to reality. They were in a jouncing carriage, nearing his friends’ home—this was no time for passion! No time to let herself go.

She eased him away from her and slowly pushed herself to sit straight on the seat. He went readily enough, though he turned his face away from her and she could hear the harsh rasp of his breath. Her head was still spinning, and she felt so light and giddy she feared she might faint. She shook her head hard to clear it, and smoothed her skirts back over her legs.

She tried to laugh. ‘I can’t meet your grand friends looking like
this
.’

Rob turned back to her to take her face between his hands, holding her as delicately as if she was a pearl set in gold, and gently kissed her lips. ‘You are beautiful, Anna. Never doubt that.’

Her heart ached at his words, and she feared she would
start to cry. How overwhelming this day had been! How grand and strange, and most unsettling.

And it was not over yet.

‘I am sure Lord Edward will not think so when he sees such a slattern enter his fine house,’ she said. She reached for her discarded jacket and pulled it on over her wrinkled chemise. At least the fine grey wool was unmarred, and any creases could be blamed on travel. ‘Could you hand me my comb from the basket?’

Rob retrieved her travelling basket from beneath the seat and gave it to her in silence. He seemed to sense she couldn’t talk just yet—she had no words to express her feelings about what had just happened between them. She wasn’t even sure what those feelings were.

But she did know that very soon she would be faced with Rob’s grand friends and she would have to greet them properly.

As he sat down on the seat across from her, staring out of the window in silence, Anna tidied her hair and put on her hat. She smoothed the puffed sleeves of her jacket, the folds of her skirt and dabbed on some rosewater. Just as she finished her swift ablutions the carriage turned in to a pair of ornate iron gates, set in high brick walls and adorned with an elaborate crest. They had arrived.

The lane leading to the house was wide and neatly gravelled, meandering lazily past thick stands of trees and rolling meadows that offered enticing glimpses of distant ponds and columned temples. It was as vast and lovely as the park of any royal palace, and Anna couldn’t help but feel nervous as she studied it all. She was accustomed to grand courtiers, their manners and styles and expectations, but that was in the theatre, in her own world, where she knew how to conduct dealings with them.

This was their world, and she feared she had much to learn about it.

Rob, however, didn’t seem concerned at all. He buttoned his doublet and ran his hands through his hair to smooth back the tousled waves. And after such brief attentions, damn him, he looked more handsome than ever.

He glanced over at her, and some of her worries must have been written on her face for he gave her a reassuring smile.

‘Edward Hartley and his friends aren’t grand people, Anna,’ he said. ‘They just like to enjoy themselves and have a good time here in the country.’

‘Enjoy themselves wandering their grounds for hours and hours?’ she murmured. The lane turned, revealing the house just ahead. ‘Or maybe counting their chimneys and windows? That would surely take several days, at least.’

Hart Castle was a huge place, and despite its old title, conjuring up images of turrets and bare walls, it was built of gleaming new red brick and golden stone. The windows sparkled like diamonds in the daylight, a hundred watchful glass eyes surveying their approach. The drive led up to the front doors, sweeping past formal knotwork gardens and a tall maze, around a stone statue of Artemis and her bow. A few guests already strolled the pathways between the bright flowerbeds, their rich silks and plumed hats rivaling the blossoms for colour and shine.

Anna was suddenly quite glad to have the rich stage costumes packed away in her trunk. They would be a useful disguise.

As the carriage lurched to a halt the front doors swung open and Lord Edward Hartley appeared there. Unlike the garden strollers, he was dressed for the country in a brown doublet and tall, scarred leather boots. He waved at them as Rob bounded down onto the drive.

‘You’re here at last,’ Lord Edward said. ‘Elizabeth was saying we would perish of boredom before you arrived. Come and amuse us.’

‘Be quiet, Edward, or you’ll frighten my lady away,’ Rob said. ‘It took all my powers of persuasion to lure her away from London. I had to promise her a quiet time here at Hart Castle.’

He held out his hand to Anna, and she took one more deep breath before she reached out to take it. He helped her to alight, but her legs were still shaking from the long journey so that she had to hold on to his arm as she curtsied.

‘I can see very well why she was reluctant to leave London,’ Lord Edward said. He snatched her hand from Rob and bowed over it. ‘Her admirers must have been clinging to the back of the carriage as you left, I vow.’

Anna had to laugh at the silly, outrageous compliment, and the roguish grin on his handsome, aristocratic face. ‘And I can see why you and Master Alden are such friends. You are both ridiculous flatterers.’

‘You do wound me, Mistress Barrett,’ Edward cried. ‘I speak only the truth. And, as a teller of truth, I must say I don’t know how such an old reprobate as my friend here has persuaded you to come with him. You must tell me his secrets.’

BOOK: Winter Blockbuster 2012
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