Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02] (15 page)

He pulled on his boots.

Elizabeth and her ridiculous charm. Her merry laughter haunted him like bells ringing out Christmas day. Elizabeth, and her scent of lilacs and spring and hope. But even Elizabeth couldn’t bring back his sister. He tore open his bedchamber door and made his way down the dark hall, letting his instincts lead the way. The urge to escape the stifling house was overwhelming. He couldn’t breathe in that blasted bedchamber with its clean and innocent scent of lemons.

Not even the maids were up this early. The fireplaces were cold, and the house was eerily silent, watchful. He felt haunted by ghosts, followed by the past. A past he had so desperately tried to bury with his family. He moved down the narrow servant’s steps and shoved open the door at the back of the house. The blast of cool morning air was just what he needed. Blessed relief. He paused on the stoop, watching the birds dart through the garden. Tiny black shadows. They were already up and ready to take on the world. Their merry tunes peppered the darkness, bringing life to the dreary gray.

As a child he’d taken shelter in the outside world, desperate to escape the poverty of his home. Out there he could be anyone, go anywhere, believe in anything. And Lucy had always been at his side, always listening to his dreams, always urging him to discover more. She’d believed in him, believed in life and in hope. And look where it had gotten her…dead.

Weighed down by the heaviness of the past, Gideon moved to a stone bench. Why? Why had he dreamt of his family when he’d worked so hard to ignore the memories? He sat down, resting his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. It was a momentary slip brought on by his new surroundings, and by a woman who reminded him of hope. He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t soft. He’d destroyed his past, and he would not let it abuse him once more. He would
not
dream of them again.

The soft crunch of gravel alerted Gideon. He stiffened, jerking upright. The yew trees and forest beyond were black shadows. But he could see the glow of a cheroot before he actually noticed the shape of the man. His hands fisted, instincts on alert.

“Good morning,” Mr. Smith’s wary voice spoke from the shadows.

He relaxed…somewhat. Gideon grunted in response, in no mood to make conversation. He didn’t trust him, but then he didn’t trust anyone so that wasn’t such a revelation. But something about Mr. Smith rubbed him the wrong way. He was too…arrogant. Too bloody…rude. Too…too…close to Elizabeth. Aye, he didn’t trust him in the least.

“I thought I was the only one who woke at such an ungodly hour.”

Wonderful, the bleedin’ man wanted to chat. Gideon didn’t bother to respond, and he sure as hell didn’t bother to correct the man. In fact, it wasn’t normal for him to be up early. Usually he slept like a babe, no conscience to keep him awake. But now…now the dreams had returned. He shuddered as if the hand of a spirit trailed down his spine.

Mr. Smith dropped his cheroot and crushed it with his boot, extinguishing the glow. He was carrying a small bag, indicating he’d only just arrived. “Serendipitous, as I wanted to speak with you anyway.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes, watching the man as he settled on the bench across from him. Even though it was bleedin’ early and there was no one around, Mr. Smith was dressed fully in jacket and pressed trousers. I had planned to head to London for a fortnight, but decided to return to the estate.

“And why would I care?” Gideon growled.

“Because I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her here alone with you.” Mr. Smith smiled. “If you haven’t noticed, Mrs. Ashton is an incredibly caring and rather trusting woman.”

He didn’t miss the warning in his tone. When he should have been cringing with guilt, Gideon instead grew furious. If that dandy thought to threaten him, he’d realize soon enough that no one told him what to do. And damn it all, he would not feel guilty.

“Mr. Smith—”

“She found most of her staff in the slums,” he said, interrupting Gideon as if his comment was of no consequence. “Taking them in when others had given up hope that they would ever be part of genteel society.” He glanced at the house. Only a few of those many, many windows were lit. Most were on the third floor where the servants slept. “Cutthroats, thieves…you name it, they have all found a home with Mrs. Ashton.”

He shook his head, apparently finding the company she kept as ridiculous as Gideon. His gaze went immediately to Elizabeth’s window, where the glass remained dark, the curtains closed. Dear God, forget her mother-in-law, the woman would probably be murdered by her staff.

“They’re all good deep down, Mr. Smith, she says.” He released a wry laugh, as if he knew better.

Gideon didn’t find amusement in the conversation at all. No, he didn’t find it amusing that Mr. Smith was warning him off.
And he sure as hell didn’t find it amusing that Elizabeth had surrounded herself with thieves and cutthroats. But mostly he didn’t find it amusing that their conversation was getting too deep and much too personal. “What’s your point?” Gideon growled.

Mr. Smith’s gaze flashed to him. “My point is that she thinks everyone has a bit of a soul. She believes everyone can be saved because she was saved.”

“She should hardly place herself in the same position as a thief.”

“I agree. She’s kind, caring, smart as hell.” Mr. Smith sighed. “She wasn’t well, you know. The children were starving, she hadn’t a pence to her name. Fortunately Mr. Ashton came along just in time. I’d hate to think about what she might have done otherwise.”

Would she have stolen food and ended up in Newgate? Prostituted herself and ended up somewhere much, much worse? His hands fisted against his thighs. He wouldn’t care. “Why are you telling me this?”

Mr. Smith stood. “Because she believed in me when no one else did.”

Suddenly, it hit him. Gideon stood, irritation spurring him forward. “You’re in love with her.”

The realization infuriated him for some unknown reason. An image of Mr. Smith and Elizabeth embracing in this very garden flashed to mind. The picture brought with it a cold and stark reality he didn’t wish to visit.

Mr. Smith laughed, a forced sound. “No. She’s merely a friend…family. But I protect my family, no matter what the cost.”

So, he thought Gideon would hurt her. Perhaps he would. Gideon sank onto the bench, letting the warning wash over him, knowing he deserved the harsh comment. Hadn’t he hurt so many others?

“No, Gideon.”
Lucy’s miserable face came to mind.
“It’s too late. I’m dead because of you.”

Aye, women came to him because they sensed the beast within, but they didn’t know how truly coldhearted he was. Even now he could imagine the shock and horror in Elizabeth’s eyes if she uncovered the truth about him. But she would never know, he’d make sure of it.

“Just remember my warning,” Mr. Smith said. “You might be as tall as an oak, and might have had your own scuffles at one time, but I too grew up in the slums, and it’s been a good while since you’ve had that pretty-boy face touched by a fist.”

Gideon snorted dryly at the threat, watching the man stroll away. He’d have Mr. Smith out cold with one punch. But Mr. Smith didn’t realize that Lady Lavender often had them spar to keep in shape and to amuse her. Gideon hadn’t lost a match yet. But Mr. Smith’s threat was the least of his problems. The man could curse Gideon all he wanted; he had other things on his mind.

As Gideon watched him enter the house he realized a few interesting things. One, there was a reason he was here. After all, Elizabeth could use her Mr. Smith to scare off her mother-in-law, so why did she want him? Two, Mr. Smith might deny it, but he was obviously a little bit in love with Elizabeth. And three, and most distressing of all, Gideon didn’t like it…didn’t like it one bit.

Elizabeth paced the large rose garden, unable to sit, unable to eat, unable to do anything but dwell on Gideon. Three days. For three long days now he’d avoided her.

How could any man, any person, for that matter, be so bloody infuriating? Every time she believed he might actually have a bit of a heart, he proved her wrong. How stupid to think they could settle into marital bliss. Stupid to think he could actually grow to care for her. It was obvious by the way he’d scurried from the creek that he wanted nothing to do with her or her family.

Hell, he’d watched the children as if observing some primitive tribe he didn’t quite understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Then again, he hadn’t said a single biting remark. He hadn’t proclaimed that he was in charge, nor made the children cry. And he hadn’t even called her a whore. Perhaps there was hope after all.

“Elizabeth, did ye hear me?”

She glanced briefly at Will, who was lounging on a stone bench, enjoying the warm day. His cheerful gaze was a bit too discerning for her peace of mind. She crossed her arms over the light green muslin she wore. Although the day was warm, she felt chilled. “I’m sorry, what?”

He dropped his leg, swinging it back and forth. “I said—”

“You’ve been acting strangely ever since you brought that handsome man home,” Sarah interrupted.

She watched Elizabeth through shrewd eyes that belied her age. Settled underneath the only tree in the garden, the young woman was attempting to keep her skin pale. She’d found the chambermaid while in France when Sarah had been but fifteen and attempting to sell herself on the street to purchase food for her family. In the past few years the maid had grown only more beautiful and into an even bigger flirt.

Yes, her staff was a rowdy, uncultured bunch, but they were her family, her friends, and marrying Gideon would not only save the children but her household as well. She’d promised every single servant that she would take care of them. They needed her. She could not let them down. But how? How would she marry a man who couldn’t even spend five minutes in her company before fleeing? Not even Mr. Smith’s arrival had made her feel any better.

Elizabeth forced herself to concentrate. “Am not acting strangely.”

Sarah lifted a blonde brow. “Are too.”

She bit back her response, realizing she sounded like a perturbed child. Gideon had turned her into a crazed woman. But she hadn’t expected the household to notice. Blimey, what a mess she’d made of everything.

She hadn’t seen Gideon and she could admit to herself that she was avoiding the man as much as he was avoiding her. Perhaps he was ashamed of his behavior. Ha, more likely Sarah had been keeping him company and he’d had no use for her. All of her plotting, all of her scheming would be for naught if the blasted man
wouldn’t agree to stay. She spun around and paced to a yellow rose-bush. She had less than a fortnight. Time was running out.

“All I want to know,” Sarah said with a dramatic sigh, “is if you’re tupping him.”

Will chuckled.

Elizabeth flushed, thanking God her back was to them and they wouldn’t see how uncomfortable Sarah’s question made her. Tupping, no. But she had been thoroughly tupped, and yes, perhaps she often thought about that one night and wondered if there would ever be another. The fact that she dreamt of being intimate with the man only confirmed her suspicion…she’d gone mad.

“Well, he’s right handsome. With that dangerous air…”

“Go on,” Will muttered, obviously annoyed. The poor lad had been lusting after Sarah for the last year. The beautiful maid had her sights set on more manly pursuits, and Gideon was most definitely manly.

Sarah sighed. “I’m just saying that if yer not interested, I am.”

Elizabeth spun around, a flare of irrational jealousy springing to life. “You will not sleep with the man.”

Sarah crossed her arms over her ample bosom and smirked. For a brief moment Elizabeth wondered if Gideon would prefer the maid. After all, Sarah was younger than Elizabeth, and much, much prettier. Being French, the girl had been born knowing how to flirt while Elizabeth found herself more apt to offend than seduce when faced with a handsome gent. She shook off the unsettling thought. It didn’t matter who Gideon preferred. He could be intimate with all of England as long as he married her.

“Why?” Sarah asked, pouting.

“Because…because it’s unprofessional!”

She grinned. “Not if he wants it.”

“Sarah,” Elizabeth snapped, so irritated by the image of the two of them entangled in the sheets that she felt ready to breathe fire.

“All right.” The maid held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t touch your man.”

Her
man? Gads, was she that obvious? Did everyone know she was attracted to Gideon? And she was, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. He could make her weak-kneed with a glance. She pressed her fingers to her lips, thinking of their kisses. Yes, she’d been kissed before, she’d even been attracted to the baker’s son as a young lady living in London, but she had never ever felt the aching need she felt when she was with Gideon.

“As I was saying,” Will interrupted her musings, his young face pinched with annoyance. “We’ll double up on guards, make ’em look like they’re just servants so no one suspects anything. Gideon won’t be able to leave without someone knowing about it.”

Elizabeth nodded, distracted by her own troubling thoughts. It wasn’t just his kisses though. That, she could avoid. It was those brief, very brief, glimpses of humanity that pulled at her weak heart. For the short time she’d been with Gideon she couldn’t stop thinking about him. That hard body, his musky scent, those rough hands moving over her smooth thighs…the way he had saved her that first day, putting himself in harm’s way. He’d been a gentleman. Had it been a lapse, or could he truly be the man she needed?

“Speak of the devil,” Sarah muttered.

A shiver of unease raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck, a warning. This was her home, damn it all, so why did she suddenly feel like fleeing? She spun around, not in the least surprised to see Gideon striding down the path directly toward her. Gideon. He had made her uneasy, made her question her very mission. Worst of all, he’d made her feel an attraction that was altogether unholy.

Will and Sarah scurried to their feet, showing Gideon respect she should have been given. Not that it mattered; the man completely ignored them, focusing his steel eyes on her. And she felt his gaze all the way to her soul.