A Lady's Vanishing Choices (11 page)

Chapter 14

The wind picked up and tangled through Bethany’s hair with a whisper of the coming storm. “I hate storms.”

She jumped and swiped at her head as the swaying branches deposited a wayward twig in her hair. Shivering as clouds covered the afternoon sun, she cast a glance at the fluttering shadows crossing the path, seemingly alive with threats.

Bethany hurried a little faster while lightning danced in the distance and flared in her eyes. The boom of thunder rolled closer and closer, heralding the arrival of the storm. The smell of rain hung in the air, swirling around her. Glad to have made it to the manor before the storm broke, she took a deep, thankful breath. On the point of entering the house, she paused when a boy raced up to the steps.

He had a mop of stringy, brown hair spilling from beneath a well-worn cap, dark brown trousers, and an unremarkable chambray shirt finished the picture of a youth. At first glance, she thought of him as an urchin, and he did appear young, but there was something about his face that belied her conclusion. Perhaps his small size dictated her assumption.

She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what disturbed her, but unease tensed her shoulders. Not recognizing him, she demanded with raised brows, “State your business.”

He tipped his cap and handed her a sealed note. “I were told tis a message for Lady Littleton.”

She bit back a chuckle.
I am a Lady Littleton too
.
Folks even acknowledge my title now.
Pleased with the thought, she threw her shoulders back with pride. “There are three Lady Littletons in residence here. Which one?”

“The gent will have me guts for garters if I make a mess of it, so he says as to deliver it to Lady Gertrude Littleton.” He pointed to the paper with one grubby finger. “See the name is writ right here.” The boy glanced at her with a hopeful expression. “You ain’t her, I takes it?”

“I’m afraid not. I shall see she receives the letter immediately. Or would you care to wait in the hall while I fetch her?”

“Naw.” He handed her the note. “She weren’t to break the seal until after I was gone, anyways. That twas the instructions.” He whirled, ran down the steps, and took the path through the woods to the village.

Bethany turned the folded foolscap over and examined the blob of wax without an identifying seal stamped in it. There was no mark on the note other than Lady Gertrude Littleton written in a bold hand, slanted and uneven. The pen had sputtered at the end where the author had pressed down too hard.

“Remember, curiosity killed the cat,” she half whispered. Entering the house, she shut the door and headed for the drawing room, where her aunt could usually be found at this hour of the afternoon.

She stepped into the chamber and found her aunt reposed in her favorite chair before a tall window, a book in her hand. “Aunt, a letter arrived for you.”

Gertrude lifted her gaze and, without a word, held out her hand for the note. Bethany passed her the folded sheet and turned to leave. The rustle of the paper being spread with ruthless dispatch sounded behind her. Before she reached the door, a screech echoed through the chamber. “Betha, who delivered this note?”

Alarmed, Bethany turned back to her aunt. “A stranger. A young boy came up to the house. Is something amiss?”

Gertrude clutched the crumpled note in her fist and waved it at Bethany. “Find that boy at once. I must speak with him.”

“Aunt, he is long gone. He ran off through the woods towards the village immediately after he handed me the note.”

Gertrude threw her head back and glared at Bethany. “No matter. You know everyone in that blot on the map called a village. Fetch him to me at once.”

Bethany raised both hands and shrugged. “I didn’t recognize him at all. I don’t know where to inquire.”

“Ask round in the village, but bring me that boy.” She glared and tightened her lips. “Now.”

Bethany anxiously muttered, “There is a storm coming. I’ll never find him in the rain.” For a moment, rebellion flared. What would her aunt do if she refused?
She shuffled her feet
.
She didn’t wish to put her aunt to the test until her uncle no longer had any authority over her.
I’ll be free and can do whatever I wish one day.

“Betha, what did I tell you?”

Reluctantly, Bethany flung a heavy cloak over her shoulders, headed out, and followed the trail taken by the boy.

The storm broke with sheets of rain pounding the ground and Bethany. With her head lowered, she began to run while her skirts and cloak became sodden with mud. She glanced a few feet ahead to avoid puddles forming in the path. Spying a scrap of dark cloth snagged on a bush, she paused to pluck the scrap for closer examination.

Concluding the boy’s clothing was made of just such material, she glanced around. Being a stranger, perhaps he was with one of the guests staying at Royce’s hunting lodge.
Should I take a chance he is there or continue on my way? I don’t have a single idea where to look for him in the village.

With a sudden decision made, she turned down the path to the hunting lodge. Moisture spiked her lashes and ran into her eyes. With little success, she wiped the rain away, only to have the wind blow another blast in her face. She shivered. Her hair clung to her head and dripped dampness down her back. The soaked cloak did little to protect her from the chill of the rain. The closer she came to her destination, the more her stomach roiled. How
crazed to pursue the boy in this weather.

She couldn’t determine which was worse, facing Aunt Gertrude without at least a word about the boy, or asking a complete stranger for information that might seem offensive or intrusive. At least there was a light shining from within the lodge. She took a shaky breath and rapped on the door.

The panel opened and she thought her heart might explode out of her chest when her gaze met and clung to Royce’s stare. Frozen in surprise, she couldn’t manage a word.

“Bethany, what are you doing out in this weather? Come in before you catch your death.”

She stepped inside the lodge. A fire crackled in the fireplace, inviting her to warm her fingers and casting a warm glow about the room. This manly room, with dark paneled walls and hunting gear along with a few guns stacked in the corner, exactly matched Bethany’s idea of a gentleman’s hunting lodge. Several pipes were strewn over a small table beside an over-stuffed chair drawn close to the fire.

She swallowed and glanced around. Her heart fluttered into her throat. He was completely alone.

What the devil is she doing out in this curst weather?
Suspicions circled in his mind while he regarded her standing in his cottage, wet and bedraggled. Her disheveled appearance did little to dampen her beauty. Moisture, dewing her skin and hair, added to her appeal. More’s the pity. Almost overwhelmed with the need to gather her in his arms, to protect her, to comfort her and make certain all went well with her, he stepped closer. “Would you like my assistance to remove your cloak?”

She glanced down at the puddle of water gathering at her feet. “I’ll ruin the floor.”

“Nonsense. It needs a good scrubbing.”

“Perhaps I should leave.” She swallowed. “I only came to make an inquiry. A boy left a note for my aunt, and I’m trying to locate him. I thought he might have come this way.”

Now seems the perfect opportunity to question her
,
perhaps catch her out in an untruth.
Not exactly gentlemanly, but needs must
. He gestured around the room with both hands raised.
“As you can see, I’m here by myself.”

“All the more reason to leave.”

At that moment, a blaze of lightning flashed and a boom of thunder shook the windowpanes. Bethany started and stepped closer to him, staring out at the gathering darkness.

She seems vulnerable, even afraid. Definitely the time for answers.
“I think the storm has decided differently.”

Bethany gathered her damp cloak tightly around her shoulders. “Perhaps the storm will pass quickly.”

With calm insolence, he said, “You may pray for such an occurrence, but you may as well be comfortable while you wait.”

She appeared undecided for a brief second before she began working at the fastenings of her cloak with stiff fingers.

“Allow me.” He promptly removed the offending garment and draped it over the back of a wooden chair before the hearth. When he turned towards her, his gaze skimmed over her soaking dress, and he nearly lost his breath. The wet, thin material clung to her very feminine form from shoulder to hem.

Her breasts had pebbled against the chilled fabric of her gown, creating an itch in his palms to cover each mound with a loving touch. He swallowed hard. Several long moments passed before he forced his gaze to return to her hair and face.

Grabbing a towel from the washstand, he proceeded to wipe her face, keeping his gaze well above her drenched apparel. Releasing her chin, he took a step back before he pitched the towel to her. “Finish drying your hair. You need to shed all of those wet things as well. I have a robe that should do admirably.” He blew out a breath. “It will cover you completely.”
I may not survive if she doesn’t shed that wet gown and quickly. My good intentions are slipping as it is.

Ushering her into the next room, he shut the door and leaned against it. Of all the rotten luck, how the devil could he distance himself from her if she keeps arriving on his doorstep? He rolled his eyes. How could he question her when he could think of nothing except the rain-washed scent of her hair? He gritted out a savage oath under his breath.

She emerged with her hair hanging down her back in damp curls and draped in his robe. The loving way the material clung to her curves had his tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth. The notion of her bare body enclosed in his dressing-gown set him ablaze. He blew out a deep breath.
I’m in serious trouble.

He bit back a groan as his pulse thudded in his ears, in his throat and all the way to his groin. By her totally unaware expression, he concluded she had no idea of her effect on him. She seemed merely a little uncomfortable with being alone in his presence. Biting back a curse, he fought against her appeal, but his breath quickened and became heavy.

From the moment she entered his lodge, he realized the path he traveled held a great deal of danger. Filled with disdain for himself, yet unable to draw back from taking the next treacherous step, he hunched his shoulders. Hardening after the first instant his gaze landed on her in her wet clothing should have been warning enough, but he ignored it.
I should move the hell away from her, but I cannot.
As a gentleman, I must protect her even from myself, and I’m man enough to handle the situation with at least some finesse.

He forced a lazy, disarming smile to his lips. He tried to keep the heated appreciation out of his eyes. “Much better. At least, you won’t succumb to an inflammation of the lungs.”

He leaned against the mantel in a non-threatening stance, his gaze locked with hers. “Your hair is still dripping water. Come closer to the fire.”

She glided to the other side of the fireplace and held out her hands to the blaze.

“Here, let me towel your hair a little more thoroughly.” He reached for the linen cloth
. If I don’t go up in smoke . . .

With an undeniable longing to have his hands in her hair and to be close to him, she couldn’t keep her voice steady. “It’ll dry here by the fire.”

“Nonsense.” Taking the two strides that separated them, he began to vigorously dry her hair.

“Please, this isn’t necessary.” She sighed as his touch tingled from her scalp all the way down her spine. His breath on the side of her throat shivered to the secret places of her being, and she could almost feel the stroke of his lips against her flesh.

When he dropped the towel, she gazed up into the sensual snare of his eyes and witnessed the passionate longings reflected there. She tried to take a step back. “No.”

“Oh yes,” he contradicted, taking her into his warm embrace and holding her mesmerized by the compelling force of his will. She could only stare. When his lips brushed hers, she tried to object and yet, when his mouth met hers, she surrendered. Succumbed to the taste of him, the feel of his arms, and his tight embrace. He overwhelmed her senses.

A tiny drum beat in her ears while her pulse rate accelerated unbearably. Rain continued to hammer against the roof and the sound enclosed the lodge in a cocoon of intimacy. Captivated by the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows into the room, she lingered in his embrace. The tang of rain-washed forest wafted into the small crack in the window to mingle with lamp oil. The erotic fragrance of his clean, male scent beguiled her even further.

He moved slightly, pulling her into a more comfortable position, his body hard and muscular against hers, his hand keeping her still so she became acutely aware of his strength.

This was madness to be held in thrall to this forceful man, dangerous to her peace of mind and alluring to her senses, but how could she escape her own desires?

He effortlessly held her, tempting her to respond. This had been a mistake from the first moment she’d entered his lodge, and when he’d actually touched her, sanity left her and drugging sensations had taken over.
I should have run.

Against her will, she found a matching need within her. She lost the ability to think coherently in a limbo where the only realities were his hands and mouth as he caressed and kissed her.

What am I doing? I’m supposed to protect her, comfort her, not ravish her. Overwhelming her innocence with my expertise is despicable, even if she is a traitor.
He shifted from one foot to the other
. I must be daft to torture myself like this, but I need to hold her for another moment. Only a moment, and
I shan’t take advantage of her. No indeed.

The robe had loosened beneath his searching fingers, and it was all he could do to remove his hands from her luscious breasts.
Although she responds so beautifully to my touch, she is hesitant. Innocence always has its guard, enough to bring me to my senses, at any rate.

Between his teeth, he sucked in a deep, labored breath and closed the edges of his robe around her again. After one more drugging kiss, he managed to drop his arms to his side.