Netherby Halls (13 page)

He wanted Sassy Winthrop, and his wanting had already
sent him into obsession. He dreamed of her and what it would be
like to hold her, kiss her, touch her, and that dream had been so
real …

He was aroused beyond the norm, and he could not deny
that in addition to the lust he felt for her, he
liked
her.
He liked her spirit, and he liked the manner in which she held and
conducted herself, but she wasn’t someone he could use and forget.
She was someone a man should treasure. That wasn’t for him.

He handed her the small china plate with the
sweetcake and watched her spoon some into her mouth. When she
moaned, the sound went through him. His dick, already hard, wanted
out of his breeches.

“This is delectable. I shall have to walk a few miles
after I am finished,” she said, smiling.

“You are too thin and can well afford a few pieces of
cake,” he said thoughtfully and then added, “You thanked me for my
offer of friendship, but you doubt my sincerity.” He was piqued in
spite of himself.

“Do I doubt it?” Sassy returned, and the light in her
green eyes nearly took his breath away.

What the hell was wrong with him? He felt like a
schoolboy with his first crush. “Hang it, woman! Do not answer my
question with a question. Tell me instead, what have I done that
has not
been an act of friendship?

“Ah, let us review,” Sassy said, her green eyes
twinkling at him, and for him, no one else was in the room.
Everything faded and turned into a place where only this beauty
with the speaking eyes stood before him. He had to get control over
himself, and he attempted to banish such fantasy.

“Indeed, let us review,” he agreed, a smile curving
his lips as he stared at hers.

“
You
, my lord, very kindly offered me
assistance on the road when my carriage broke down—an act of
chivalry
—but then offered me insult when you referred to me
as a ‘bird’ when you thought I could not hear you speaking with
Percy.” She put up a finger to stall his objection. “You have
offered me a strong shoulder during my weakness this morning, and
perhaps that was an act of friendship, but I think it was to
further your purpose and add another feather to your over-laden
cap.”

“Add another feather?” He was actually just a bit
stunned by her directness and all the more captivated.

“What all rogues are forever doing, aren’t they?
Seduction, isn’t that what you have been playing at from the moment
we met?” Sassy mitigated these words with an amiable laugh. “I
know … outrageous of me to speak of such things, but there it
is—I am, I’m afraid,
outspoken
.”

Ruffled and yet inwardly conceding her points, he
inclined his head. “Let me ask you this. That fellow, the good
doctor, I suppose he was not remiss with his attentions. Does he
fall into the same category as a rogue?”

He watched her expression change from amusement to
irritation, her green eyes flashing at him. His heart skipped with
the excitement she instilled in him as he waited for her response.
He wanted to scoop her up and take her to his room. He wanted to
tear off her clothing and bend over her and suckle at her full
breasts. He wanted to drive his shaft home! It was all he could
think of.

“How dare you, my lord, and once again, you are
proving that friendship is not on our table. Dr. Bankes has behaved
like a complete gentleman to me and has not been remiss with his
kindness, and I most vehemently resent your insinuation.”

Bloody hell
. He had just skewered himself. He
felt a wave of jealousy rush through him full force. He hated that
she saw him as a rogue and Dr. Bankes as a kind gentleman, for in
this case he knew otherwise.

Suddenly and before he was able to retrieve himself
in her eyes, she was on her feet. She put down the half-eaten sweet
and said, “Sophy, I think I should be getting back to Netherby now.
I have stayed too long.”

“Oh no, dear Sassy, you cannot go. Oh, do stay!”
Sophy jumped to her feet and rushed to take Sassy’s hands. “We can
go upstairs after everyone leaves and have a wonderful girls’
chat.”

“You are most gracious, but perhaps another time. I
have lessons to prepare for tomorrow and a few things that need
doing.” Sassy smiled warmly at her newfound friend.

“Oh, very well. I will ring for my carriage to return
you, and—” Sophy started but was interrupted.

The marquis stood, and his voice was quiet and full
with determination. “No need, I have my phaeton outside and ready.
I will be happy to escort Miss Winthrop home.”

He saw Sassy’s mouth drop. He had her right where he
wanted, for she would not be so rude as to refuse his offer of a
ride. He could see her mind racing. What was she thinking? He
laughed to himself, for he knew she would not offer him public
insult or demand the Delleson’s trouble themselves on her behalf
when a ride had been offered.

A few moments later, Sassy obviously stiff and aloof,
allowed the marquis to hoist her onto the open seat of his phaeton
before he went around to easily and athletically climb up beside
her and take the reins.

Sassy looked around. “Where is your tiger?”

“Ah, on his way by stage to London.”

She said, obviously curious, “Oh?”

He smiled to himself and said, “Yes, you see when we
made this trip we had not thought we would stay this long. In fact,
just yesterday, we talked about returning to London next week.” He
was surprised at the enormous gratification he felt when she looked
at him sharply. He saw something in her eyes, those deep green eyes
that spoke volumes. In spite of her cool rebuffs, she didn’t want
him to leave.
Interesting.

“But … I sense a
but
,” she said while
touching the ring beneath her glove. She often touched it, he’d
noticed. No doubt it was a sentimental gift from her parents. The
ring stood out in his mind. Something about it caught his
attention. He had seen that stone … but where, when?

“Indeed.” He smiled. “We sent him in a hired post
chaise to fetch a few more things to allow us to extend our visit
here.”

This left them with a comfortable silence as he noted
Sassy watching him handle the reins. He felt his heart nearly burst
idiotically when she remarked that she thought his hands quiet.

“A compliment, Miss Winthrop? Careful now—you don’t
want to encourage me to think our
relationship
—whatever you
may wish to call it—is improving.”

Sassy looked down at her hands, her cheeks red as she
blushed and answered, “I-I simply stated a fact, my lord. I do not
flatter people.”

“Do you know that you are the oddest woman I have
ever come across? I am in a quandary as to whether you are an
adorable innocent or an adventuress hoping to appear as one.”

* * *

Sassy couldn’t believe her ears. She knew that her
mouth dropped as she turned to tell him in no uncertain terms what
she thought of such a statement.

“I must take leave to tell you that your manners are
insufferable.
Adventuress?
And am I supposed to find that at
Netherby? I would have done better to stay with my Lady Margate and
her odious son!
An innocent
? Faith, if my innocence hadn’t
departed at the death of my dear mother, it was gone, all gone,
when I lost my father, for all innocence was shattered then and
thereafter! Do not dare to put me in a category, for I won’t stay
there.”

During this diatribe, the marquis had pulled over to
the side of the road, drawing his team and phaeton beneath the
hangings of a large willow. “I quite agree,” he said softly. “You
do not belong in a category, and you certainly don’t belong at
Netherby.”

“Ah, I suppose you shall tell me then, just where I
do belong?”

He could no longer restrain himself. He took her into
his arms. “Here,” he whispered, “Like this …”

* * *

She gasped, for his meaning was not lost on her. He
was asking her to be his mistress. She would have hauled off and
slapped his face had he not had her ensconced neatly in his strong
embrace.

Something happened then—her mana began whispering,
soothing, urging her to take him, make him hers.

What?
She couldn’t believe the voice in her
head.
What are you saying? Make him mine? How dare he do
this … in broad daylight?

Her second thought as the voice of magic wound its
way around her heart was,
A
h … his arms … they
feel so safe … so strong … so right.

Her third thought was,
What am I doing? I am more
than the magic inside me. I want more than … this!

Her fourth thought never found an opening to form, as
his mouth was on hers, and then, then all she could do was
feel.

Sensations charged through her body like a stampede
of horses, waiting for nothing and not caring what was in their
path. His mouth was on hers, his tongue made love to hers, and it
was intoxicating and delicious beyond anything she had ever
imagined.

His kiss exploded into another, and in that moment
her magic took her body under its wing and guided her, whispering
the answers to questions she didn’t know she had, revealing a
portal of secrets her inner magic had only hinted at in the past.
She was who she was, yes, but she was also a white witch, and that
part of her deep inside wanted this one man, told her
he was the
one.

And even so, she was strong enough to break away and
say in a quiet voice, “I know not what I have done to elicit such
disrespect, my lord, or is this what you call
friendship
?”

The marquis frowned and inclined his head. “I beg
your pardon. Please forgive me. My only excuse is I find you
irresistible and tempting, and I beg you overlook my bad behavior.
I certainly did not mean to offend you. I will not touch you again
without your leave.”

“And is that what you expect,” she cried, “for me to
give you leave?” It was exactly what her magic wanted her to do.
She put up her chin, as angry with him as she was with herself, for
she knew this was
not all
his fault. “If I were not alone in
this world, you would not have taken such a liberty.”

“I think, my beauty, had you a father and ten
brothers, I still would have forgotten myself and been moved to
kiss your sweet lips, but I do promise you I shall not do so again,
without your leave!”

She looked into his bright blue eyes, and that voice
whispered again and again,
You will give him leave, you will
take him to your bed and make him your own. You will share him with
no other, and your magic will be his, as his will be yours.

She almost put her hands to her ears to stop the
ravings of her inner self and her mana. She would not give in to a
force that made her less than who she was. And what did the voice
mean?
His magic?
Was it speaking metaphorically?

He saw her home in silence. As he helped her down
from his phaeton, she could not, would not look at him. Without a
word, she turned and rushed up the steps, leaving him staring after
her.

Oh, but she had to escape him and the voice—she had
to.

She made it to her room unobstructed, but a moment
later a knock sounded, and she called out to find it was Molly,
come for a lesson.

Thankfully she opened her door, and for the next hour
put the Marquis of Dartmour’s face out of her mind!

* * *

The marquis drove his pair back to the Delleson
residence, where he meant to collect Percy. He had to think.

Sassy had brought him to the brink of something he
did not want to face. He lusted for her, ah bloody hell, he did,
but not in the usual fashion. She was becoming an obsession. He
needed to look into her eyes, those speaking eyes. He wanted to
watch the flitting expressions move across her face. He wanted, no,
needed to make her smile.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Since Sassy Winthrop had entered his world, he had
scarcely been able to think of anything else.

He had always enjoyed playing the seducer with the
experienced women he took to bed. He enjoyed being the conqueror,
and they enjoyed being conquered. But this, this was so damn
different in every way.

He had no idea why he had allowed her to think he was
offering to protect her as his mistress—and it was clear that was
what she thought. He had not meant it. He damn well didn’t have a
clue what he meant. He only knew he had to hold her, kiss
her …

It was as though something dark inside him, something
he had always repressed, had urged him to move in fast and hard, to
take her. The word
mate
was being shouted in his brain by a
voice that was oddly enough his own.

He had made a royal mess. He had hurt her, and that
was the furthest thing from his mind. How he had allowed a mild
flirtation to go that far?

He thought back to the time when he was a second son
with an expectation of a moderate though respectable income. He had
been, he thought, in love with the neighbor’s daughter, a country
lady with higher expectations than a second son. She had been four
years older than he, but he hadn’t cared. He had thought she was a
goddess to be won and treasured.

However, she wasn’t interested in anything but
climbing the social ladder. In the end, his first love’s hand had
gone to a local but wealthy squire who had neither the wit nor the
heart to keep her.

A year later his father, who had been arguing with
Justin’s mother, had driven off in a rage and was killed in a
carriage accident. Not all the potions, prayers, or other unusual
remedies he had desperately tried on him had been able to save him.
His father’s lungs had been punctured, and he hadn’t lasted the
day.

In that same year, his brother had found himself in
an illegal duel over a woman. Being the man he was, too kind, too
just, he had refused to use his blood-right skills, his powerful
magic that was a blend of Dark and Light. He thought it should be a
fair fight, so what must his dear, adored brother do but delope.
His opponent had shot him through the heart and, instead of winning
the woman in question, ended up in prison.