A Dangerous Love (11 page)

“Leave. Forget last night and find someone else to satisfy your newly awakened desires. If you want to bed a Gypsy, it can be arranged—there are many lusty men in the
kumpa'nia.
”

“You can't mean that!”

“I do. I have never meant anything more.” He turned away from her, his face dark with anger, reaching for some nails. He stroked the mare once and lifted her hind leg, but there was tension in the gesture. Ariella watched him nailing the shoe. She could not understand him. He was a stranger from a different culture, and she did not know a single hope or dream he harbored. She didn't know why he was so angry.

Yesterday he had been angry before she'd even said a word, as if he disliked everyone—or at least, all Englishmen.

She hoped that was not the case. But if he was truly set against her, if he really wished to end their relationship, there was little she could do. She had already pursued him shamelessly. Ladies did not pursue gentlemen.

But she wasn't like Margery or Dianna or anyone else. Her every instinct told her not to let him slip away. Her heart demanded she pursue him, even if that meant she was shameless. She wanted to soothe his anger—and she wanted to understand it.

Hadn't the women in her family always fought tooth and nail for the men they loved?

She became still. A man and woman could fall in love at first sight; the event certainly abounded in her family. She was beginning to feel as if it had happened to her, for she seemed to care that much. “I am going to miss you when you leave. I know it's absurd, but it's how I feel,” she finally whispered.

He ignored her, nailing the shoe.

“Do you believe in fate?”

He kept nailing the shoe.

“Although I am well-read and I consider myself fairly rational, I believe in fate. I never come to Rose Hill. I haven't been to Derbyshire in years. But my first night here, we met.”

“This is hardly fate,” he said. He paused, bent over and, breathing harshly, lifted the hammer.

She spoke softly. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The hammer glanced off the shoe, hitting his thumb, and he cried out. Dropping the mare's leg and the hammer, he straightened. His expression was one of shock and dismay.

She realized she was hugging herself. “I know it's madness, because we've only just met. But it's a bit of a family tradition and I may be following in my ancestors' footsteps.”

He strode toward her, seizing her shoulders. “You are
not
falling in love with me. One day, you will fall in love with some charming, well-off aristocrat. What you feel is
lust,
Ariella, and nothing else! You don't even
know
me.”

“I so want to know you, but you are refusing my very sincere overtures!” she cried.

“You are a romantic fool,” he said, releasing her. “Have you not noticed our differences?”

“I don't care. My best friends, after my brother, sister and cousins, are university professors, scholars, lawyers and a radical writer! None of them are nobly born.”

He shook his head. “None of them are Rom, either. What woman even makes such a confession? Have you no pride? I am Rom, Ariella,
Rom.
”

She held up her chin. “I have great pride. I am proud of the fact that I am not like any of the other women of my class and upbringing. And I don't care that you are Rom.” She touched his cheek. “Is this why you are refusing my offer of friendship? Because a friendship between us is forbidden?”

He jerked away and folded his arms. “Who I am matters vastly. The fact that you are late to sexually awaken, and you dare to wander out alone at night, hardly makes you different enough. It doesn't change that you are a
gadji princess.
”

She bristled. “I am hardly royalty. Yes, I am well-off—so what? I live in London very independently by choice. I am well-read. I spend most of my time reading. I speak four—” She suddenly stopped. What was she doing? He was not going to be impressed by her obsession with history, biographies and philosophy, her advocacy of social change and reform, or her unusual education. The women who were admired and pursued did not read anything but romance novels and literature on travel. They did not live independently, and they had, at best, an elementary-school education. The women gentlemen pursued and loved excelled at sewing and needlepoint and were passionate about fashion; they desired only a husband and a family.

“Pray, do continue,” he mocked. “You live independently and you read and therefore you are suited to be the paramour of a Gypsy?”

“I prefer London to the country and as my aunt and uncle are often in town, I spend most of the year with them. I read a lot. I read…romance novels. And travels guides,” she said lamely. She was glancing aside now.

“Yes, that makes you very original.”

His scorn was so hurtful. “I hate balls and teas,” she flared. That much was the truth. “I hate idle, frivolous chitchat about croquet and steeplechases. I
am
suited to be your friend—and perhaps even your lover, if a natural progression leads us that far.”

His eyes widened impossibly.

She had never been so determined. “You see, I am very different from other young ladies. I have not ruled out a love affair with you.”

“You are mad! How you have maintained your innocence thus far is beyond me!”

“I told you, I have never desired any other man. But a friendship must come first, Emilian.” She trembled, because in a way, she had just made a very shocking proposal.

“If a
natural progression
leads you to my bed, you will be filled with regrets,” he said harshly, eyes ablaze.

“To the contrary,” she whispered. “I will probably be very satisfied.”

He choked again.

She felt her insides churn with the yearning that had become, overnight, so familiar now. “I am becoming used to your threats,” she whispered. “You no longer frighten me, Emilian.”

“Really? Then come to me tonight. Because you will be frightened, I am sure of it, and on the morrow, you will have regrets.”

Ariella stared, refusing to believe him.

His chest heaved. “When will you understand? You are a terrible temptation, one I don't even wish to resist.
I want to ruin you!
But I will not give you love when I take your innocence. We will not be friends…we will never be friends. I will give you nothing but passion, pleasure—and then it will be goodbye.”

She shivered. In that moment, she realized he believed his every word. Was it possible that he had never had a friend? Was it possible that his lovers were only that? He had made a terrible comment about being used by women. “Why are you afraid to give a friendship between us a chance?”

“I am not afraid. I am trying to make you run far from me. I am trying to protect you, not from yourself, but from me!” He whirled and began untying the black mare.

Ariella realized tears had begun to fill her eyes. She swiped at them. “So I will never see you again.”

The mare's lead in his hand, he faced her. “We will be at Woodland tonight. If you come, I will ruthlessly seduce you and take you to bed. If you come, there will not be conversation or
friendship.
If you are falling in love, I suggest you come to your senses immediately. If you join me for a night of passion and pleasure, it will only be that. You will be no different from the
gadji ladies
who so often join me in my bed. So think long and hard if you wish to become one of them. Oh! And in case I am not clear, when the sun comes up and you leave my bed, I will not recall your name.” He gave her a harsh look and walked away with the horse.

Ariella cried out and sank down on the ground. She pulled her knees up high and hugged them to her chest, shaken to the core of her being. She felt as if she had offered a wonderful gift to someone and had it thrown back in her face.

But wasn't that what had happened?

Would he really take her innocence and forget her afterward?

Was it possible he was such a cold man?

Her heart screamed at her in protest now. She didn't want to believe he would ever be so crude and ignoble. He had said very clearly that he wished to scare her away. He was trying to protect her. That was noble. And last night he had accepted her decision, instead of ruining her. That was noble, too. Clearly, he had a conscience. As clearly, taming the beast would not be easy—if she ever dared go near him again.

Ariella didn't think she could stay away. She had never been to Woodland, but she knew of the estate. It was about an hour's drive from Rose Hill. How long would the Roma stay there? If she went, was his threat to seduce her only intended to scare her away, or did he mean it?

About to get to her feet, she froze. Emilian was talking to a beautiful young Romni woman. They were both smiling, and their affection was obvious. Jealousy consumed her, startling her with its intensity, but there was also uncertainty and fear.

Emilian left and the Gypsy woman started purposefully toward her. Ariella stood. If this woman was a rival, she was far too attractive. She was young, perhaps twenty, with auburn hair and amber eyes. She wore bold purple skirts and a pale green blouse with a gold sash that framed a tiny waist. She was petite, but her figure was lush. Ariella was dismayed. She hadn't even considered that a man like Emilian would surely have a lover or a mistress. Dear God, this woman could even be his wife.

The woman paused. Her gaze was curious, not hostile. “I am Jaelle. I saw you here with my brother last night.”

Relief flooded her. “I am Ariella de Warenne.” This pretty woman was his
sister.
“Jaelle is a beautiful name.”

Jaelle was wry. “As beautiful as Emilian?”

Ariella started. “His name is beautiful, too,” she said carefully. Was Jaelle a potential friend—or would she be set against Ariella, like her brother seemed to be?

“Everyone saw you with him last night. My brother is strong, handsome and rich as a king. Many women want him. They would be fools not to. They are jealous of you today.”

Ariella was surprised. “But we only just met. We barely know one another.”

“A man doesn't need to know a woman to want her,” Jaelle smiled. “Emilian chose you last night over everyone else.”

“I'm not sure if I should be flattered.”

“You should be very pleased.”

Ariella began to relax. “He wasn't very friendly a moment ago.”

Jaelle laughed. “You refused him! He had to go to bed alone. Of course he is angry with you. No man likes being teased.”

Ariella gaped.

“The Rom like
gadji
women and Emilian is half blood.” She shrugged. “I would not be surprised if one day he chooses a
gadji
wife over a Romni one.” She glanced up the hill at the house. “You live like a queen.”

Ariella took a breath and tried to appear calm. “I am not a queen,” she said, aware that Jaelle had made the same kind of reference to royalty that Emilian had. “Is he thinking about marriage?” Ariella asked cautiously.

“I don't know. All men marry, sooner or later.” She became sly. “Would you marry him, Ariella? Would you marry a Rom?”

“If we decided to marry, I would not care that he is a Romany man.” She blushed. “We just met. He doesn't even wish to be friends—and he is leaving soon.”

Jaelle smiled, puzzled. “What does friendship have to do with my brother? He wants a woman in his bed, not a friend.”

Ariella shook her head. “I don't know why both are not possible.”

Jaelle touched her. “Do you love him already?” she asked softly. “Because I saw him watching you as if you
are
a queen. And you look at him as if he were a prince.”

Ariella looked at her and did not hesitate. “I have never felt this way before. I think I am falling in love.”

Jaelle said instantly, “You must not refuse him for too much longer. The Rom like their women in their beds well before the wedding vows are spoken.”

Ariella felt her insides hollow at the thought. Her pulse increased.

Jaelle said, “We are going to Woodland now. We may be there for a week. My uncle Stevan had a son, his first.” She pointed to a large man Ariella recognized from the night before. “A first son is cause to celebrate for many nights. You should come to Woodland.”

Ariella imagined Emilian dancing passionately beneath the stars, his every movement a sensual invitation, his every step suggesting far too much raw and masculine virility. She tensed. Tonight other women would be dancing with him—other women would be trying to attract him to their beds. She
hated
the notion.

Did she dare go to Woodland?