His ward met his gaze. “I wish it, my lord.”
“Whatever is between your mother and I is between us and only us. If I admonish her, it is no reflection on my feelings for you.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Now get to bed.”
Gerry sprinted from the room and Joshua heard his lilting voice calling for Sarah. Joshua glanced at his wife.
She stepped closer to him, her face tilted toward his. “That was good of you, Joshua.”
“I only said what you’ve shown him since his birth.” He gazed at her, marveling at her beauty within and without. “You are the one who gave him a family and a home.”
“Joshua,” she said, her voice husky. “I—” Her nostrils flared and she dropped her glance to the floor.
“Do you know how beautiful you are with your head bent that way?” The Beast within him stirred and pressed to be released.
Her head snapped up and one side of her mouth lifted. “Does it tempt you, my lord?” she said softly.
He growled, a sound that filled the room and slipped from him without his control. “Elizabeth,” he warned.
A knock interrupted them and he wanted to roar with frustration. Instead, he opened the library door and found Donaldson filling the entrance with his enormous bulk.
“My lord,” the man said by way of greeting.
“Constable. Did you find what you were looking for?” Joshua tried to keep the bitterness from his tone but failed.
The constable’s face flushed and his nostrils flared. “I found nothing.” He sighed. “I’m here to ask for your help, though I realize you have no reason to give it.”
“Sit down, Constable,” Elizabeth said gently.
Donaldson sat but kept his gaze on a spot near the floor and seemed supremely uncomfortable. “My lord, I have no clues, no hint of who or what is doing this.” He shifted in his chair. “No wild animal tracks, no human footprints.” His voice was low. “Every indication points to a wild beast, but the way the tracks have been covered up is…”
Joshua finished the sentence. “Human.”
“Yes, sir.” The man’s glance briefly met his. “You know the rumors, my lord. The village is convinced the Beast of Arundale Hall is wreaking vengeance on the innocent. All my efforts are being spent containing the panic.”
“The search was to appease them,” Elizabeth stated.
The constable nodded. “Yes, my lady. Mr. Arundale is in danger, not from me but from the villagers who are convinced he is some kind of monster.” He pinned Joshua with a steady stare. “Is he?”
Joshua opened his mouth to lie, to say that the constable’s question was ridiculous. Outside the window, a storm had followed the fog and rumblings of thunder rattled the windows. The candles flickered and Joshua made a decision. “Not in the way you mean.”
Elizabeth started, her gasp the only audible sound in the room. Joshua ran a hand through his hair and faced the constable. “He didn’t do this thing, Constable. But the rumors are based in truth.”
Donaldson nodded. “My family has been here for as long as the Arundales, my lord. I’ve heard the stories about the DeFalk lady.”
Abruptly, Joshua collapsed in the other chair. “There’ve been no killings like these since…” He trailed off, finding words difficult to form.
“Since your great grandfather,” the constable finished for him. “And mine.”
“What are you both talking about?” Elizabeth’s voice was strained.
Donaldson answered. “My granddad told me the story passed down from his father. One of the younger Arundale men was bad through and through. Apparently, he used the Beast to intimidate others and obtain land and riches.” The man shook his head. “But when he tried to rape the wife of the heir of Arundale, the older brother killed the younger.”
“That’s why you focused on Perry,” Elizabeth said. “Perry isn’t like that.”
“He’s my best lead, my lady.” The constable tightened his lips. “Either he is the killer, eliminating men who are his enemies, or someone is setting him up.”
Joshua tapped his fingers on the armrest. “Lord Everret seemed to think you liked him for the job.”
“He has every reason to hate the Arundale men, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, my lord.”
Joshua snorted. “You are privy to a closely held Arundale secret, Donaldson. I can scarcely complain when you state the truth.” He took a deep breath. “No, Everret has no love for us.”
The rain spattered against the windows, creating a low hum of noise in the room. It filled the silence that Joshua didn’t know how to fill.
Elizabeth finally broke it. “What can we do to help, Constable?”
“This killer is targeting those who have had confrontations with Perry. Can you name any others?”
She nodded. “I will write you a list.”
Donaldson rose. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Can I provide a carriage for you, Constable?” Joshua asked politely.
“No thank you, my lord. The rain won’t bother me.”
On impulse, Joshua put out his hand and Donaldson shook it. “Thank you for your discretion so far.”
One side of Donaldson’s mouth rose. “I’m not sure I’d be believed, my lord. But you’re welcome.”
When the man had left, Joshua stared out of the library window for quite a while. Elizabeth was also gone, presumably to retire.
Of all people, he understood these killings. Why couldn’t he figure out who was committing these horrific murders? Instinct told him Perry hadn’t done it. His angst led him to defeatism and depression, not violence. Everret could be responsible, but again, Joshua couldn’t put him in that role. There were other ways to get revenge and Everret had discovered them with ease. With Perry’s help, Everret had sullied the Arundale name. Did he want complete destruction? If Joshua hadn’t come home, would Perry have been blamed and convicted?
Joshua watched lightning streak across the sky. The moors were dark and dangerous on a night like tonight. The Beast would love the storm, but the mob from the village would retire to their homes and hot water bottles.
He pounded his fist into the window molding. Had he come home only to see his brother killed for a crime he didn’t commit? Had Joshua’s homecoming been too late?
Elizabeth’s voice startled him. “It’s late, my lord.” He whirled around and found his wife holding a tray. She placed the tray on the desk and calmly began to pour tea.
Tea. What he wanted was brandy.
“And you think tea will calm my nerves?” he scoffed. “I’m not Melinda, for God’s sake.”
Her countenance was serene. “No. She would be incapacitated with the vapors.”
He laughed and sat down to allow Elizabeth to serve him tea in one of the delicate cups. While he watched her, he marveled at her grace, her steady hands. Beauty could be found in strange things. He’d learned that in Jamaica. But nothing compared to observing a woman prepare and serve tea.
A man he’d met on the ship over had been in Japan and had told Joshua about a tea ritual they did in that wild place. He wondered if it was as graceful as his wife’s movements. And she was correct—just the action of taking tea calmed him as no glass of brandy would have. How had she known that?
She glanced up and caught his gaze. “Our wedding day.”
“What?”
Her smile was gentle. “You were so nervous, so rattled. Remember? I defied Lady North and went to see you.”
The memory flooded back. She’d arrived in her riding habit, her hair windblown and wild. He’d been a mess, his stomach in knots, his emotions in turmoil. The Beast had been close all morning, threatening to destroy the special day that was planned.
She’d taken one look at his pale, sweaty face, stripped off her gloves and made tea.
Surprisingly, it had worked. The Beast had subsided and he’d been able to survive the wedding. Elizabeth had been so sweet, so beautiful. How could he have left her? “Elizabeth—” His words died on his lips. What could he say? “I’m sorry”? How inadequate those words were.
She met his gaze. “Yes, my lord?”
He growled, a low, rumbling sound. “Don’t call me that. You never did before. Not until…”
Not until you hated me, despised me for the coward I was then.
Elizabeth blinked and set her cup down. “I suppose I didn’t. I’m sorry, Joshua.”
“Don’t,” he said hoarsely and his cup clattered on its saucer. He set the damn thing down, all the comfort gone. “You have no reason to apologize to me. Ever.”
She peeked over the rim of her cup. “I almost shot you.”
“I deserved it.”
“I hit you with a crop.”
“And I spanked you.” He watched color climb into her cheeks.
“Yes, you did. But you’re not sorry for that, are you?”
“No. I’m not.”
She placed her cup on the desk and rose. “I’m very tired.”
“No you’re not,” he said smoothly.
She straightened her spine and glared at him. “It’s been a very long day and—”
Joshua stood, crowding her, knowing he was playing with fire. What he ought to do was leave her alone, let her go to her cold bed. The Beast within him howled with frustration and need.
Tired and worried, he didn’t have as much control over the Beast as he should. And Elizabeth didn’t seem interested in escaping him as he essentially stalked her across the room.
In the candlelight, he noted her dilated pupils, her quickened breathing and her trembling fingers. His sharpened senses picked up the scent of her arousal and fear, an intoxicating cocktail more dangerous than any brandy.
A crack of lightning briefly lit the room and thunder rolled. The air in the library was thick and muggy, the mixed smells of rain and desire filling him with anticipation.
His mate had frozen in place, her body still and waiting. But when his arm shot out to grip hers, she exploded, her hand connecting with his cheek as she tried to run away from him. He was immovable. She belonged to him and he needed her, wanted her.
Loved her.
Another flash of light and a loud clap of thunder shook the windows. He stared at her, their gazes clashing as violently as the air outside. Then he yanked her into his arms, his desperate lust and emotion more powerful than his restraint.
They collided in a tangle of limbs and lips, hers as insistent as his, demanding surrender. He thrust his hands through her hair, disrupting her careful coiffure. She clung to him, taking his breath away with her sensual insistence. Without clear thought, he backed her against the library bookcase, heedless of the books knocked to the floor by the violence of their collision.
Material tore when Joshua yanked at her clothing, the Beast desperate for skin-to-skin contact. His mate seemed just as anxious, her fingers plucking and pulling at his shirt. A growl rumbled low in his chest and claws extended to slice through her dress, her shift, everything that stood between him and his desire.
When her bare breasts touched his chest, he groaned against her mouth, his reason gone, his passion washing through him. Yet he wanted her as aroused and needy as he was. He kept his trousers on and lifted her by her hips so her pussy pressed against his crotch. The sensation was exquisite torture and he turned, carrying her, her mouth still fused with his, to the library divan.
There, he laid her down and pinned her to the cushions. His good intentions of waiting for deeper emotions, for her love, were thrown out of the window. He needed desperately to claim her, to show her that she could never escape the truth.
She belonged to him.
*
Beneath Joshua’s heavy weight, Elizabeth gloried in his touch, in his skin against hers. She arched helplessly, her damp junction sliding over the rough material of his trousers. Need supplanted fear and she surrendered to the inevitable.
Later she would have regrets, when he left her again, unwilling to stay with her. No amount of reassurance from him would convince her that Joshua would remain by her side. But she would have this moment, this passionate embrace, to remember, to cherish.
Her body was his instrument and he was an adept player. As if they were the strings on a harp, he plucked at her sensitive nerves with his fingers, his mouth, the press of his cock against her thigh. Enthralled, she shifted to move closer to him, to capture the heat emanating from him.
He loomed over her, his face etched with pain and desire. “Grip the hand rest, Elizabeth.”
She blinked and lifted her arms over her head to grope for the arm rest behind her head. The action lifted her breasts for his hungry perusal and she gasped at the focus, the intensity of his gaze.
The storm broke outside, rain cascading against the windows just as the flood of passion exploded between the two of them. His hands stroked her skin, molding her curves. He captured one of her nipples with his mouth, the suction sending pinpricks of electricity shooting through her. She cried out and arched her back, thrusting her flesh deeper into his ravenous embrace.
His fingers pinched her other nipple in quick staccato nips and her hips rose in time to his touch. She squirmed beneath him, desperate for relief, for that unnamed pinnacle that seemed just out of reach.
When his mouth slid over her belly she froze. His tongue, rough and hot, circled her clitoris, never touching the bundle of nerves, driving her to distraction. She gripped his hair in a panicked clutch as her body tightened unbearably.
He growled and the sound vibrated the bones in her pelvis. She shuddered and tried to press his head closer, seeking relief from the torturous tension that assaulted her. Finally, when his tongue touched her erect nub, she let out a keening cry as the muscles of her inner walls contracted. Again and again, he sucked, licked and drove her to another orgasm, until she didn’t think she could crest again.
“Joshua,” she said weakly.
Convulsions shook her and he loomed over her. Tears dripped from her eyes and she turned her gaze away from him, a blush of shame washing over her cheeks. He gripped her chin and forced her to face him. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.
“Please, don’t do this,” she said in a broken voice.
“Don’t do what, sweet flower?” He stroked her cheek and kissed away the tears.
“You know.”
“Claim you? You are my mate,” he said and thrust his cock deep within her. The sensation of being filled made her cry out and tears spill down her cheeks.