Accidental Peers 03 - Compromising Willa (18 page)

“Stop, stop!” Her heart pounded her breath came out in short angry bursts. Any sentimental memories fell away.

Augustus smiled with satisfaction. “You must have felt the excitement.” He put a finger to his lips. “I certainly did.”

Disgust roiled her stomach. Her resistance excited him? “I feel nothing for you. Nothing.”

“I suppose you think you love
him
,” he said in a voice rich with scorn.

She blinked at him, awareness dawning. Did she love Hart? A joyous feeling took root in her chest. It all became so clear. “Yes. I do love Hart. I do.” Where was he? She wanted to tell him immediately. She loved Grey Preston! Her heart seemed to lift out of her chest. The formidable burden of her dented reputation fell away, leaving her floating and feeling lighter than she had since that laughing girl had raced Augustus across the pasture.

“Or is it the title you want?” he said. “You aim high, my love. Most ladies would welcome the attentions of an earl.”

“There is more to a man than his title.” Her thoughts full of Hart, Willa smiled as a genuine feeling of delight engulfed her. “You would do well to remember that.” The click of approaching footsteps sounded in the hall. “You really should remove yourself. Hart will throttle you again if he suspects you tried to force your attentions upon me.”

“I’ll go.” Augustus grabbed her, forcing a hard kiss on her mouth before she could fight him. “For now. But this is not the end of it.” He marched from the room, almost bumping right into Hart.

…

Hart zeroed in on Willa’s flushed cheeks and flustered demeanor as soon as he brushed past Bellingham. Their glances met before Willa jerked hers away, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth.

Hart’s eyes narrowed. “Are you all right?”

She turned away from him, busying herself with her tea jars. “Yes, quite, thank you.”

“Does he understand your betrothal to me stands?” Tension twisted into every one of his muscles. Perhaps she’d changed her mind and had decided to marry Gus after all.

That would explain the scene he’d witnessed through the solarium windows just moments ago when he’d stepped out for a cheroot: Gus grabbing her arm and Willa’s radiant smile in return, a joyous expression impressed upon her lovely face. “Did you tell him you won’t marry him?”

“I did.” Willa placed a jar in the tea caddy and he experienced a fleeting satisfaction when he realized it was the one he’d given her.

“How did he respond?”

“He is not pleased.” She exhaled a shaky breath, her back still to him. “But I think he will come to accept it as my final decision.”

Her shoulders were stiff, hunched high into her neck. He laid gentle hands on them and turned her to face him. “Did he overstep?”

She looked beyond his shoulder. “No, of course not.”

She was lying. Any idiot could see it. She couldn’t even look him in the eye. Cold fury blasted through him. Retrieving his handkerchief, he held it out to her. “Perhaps you are in need of this.”

Her enormous glistening eyes fastened on him. Finally. “What are you suggesting?”

“Did he force his attentions on you?”

“No. Please let us talk of something else.”

“Even if something untoward happened, you would not tell me.”

Willa sighed her resignation. “Yes, that’s true.”

Black rage pulsed through his body. “You seek to protect him because you love him still.”

A tiny frown appeared between the perfect turn of her eyebrows. “Surely you comprehend after what occurred in the library that there is only one for whom I harbor feelings.”

The rational part of Hart’s brain believed her, but mad jealousy crowded out all sensible thinking. “After the library, I thought you understood you belong to me. Only me.” His voice was frost now.

“I belong to no one.” She studied his face. “Is that what happened in the library? Did you seek to mark me with your familiarity?”

“I gave you the pleasure he never could and yet you crave him still.”

Fire flashed in her eyes. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Hart clamped his hands on her shoulders, bringing his mouth down on hers. She tried to move away, but he held her firm. His insistent tongue demanded entry, his fingers dug into her flesh. She cried out, yanking her mouth away. Willa stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with anger and hurt.

Remorse slammed through him.
What the devil
. He’d never handled a woman roughly before. “My apologies.” Spinning around in an angry daze, he stormed from the room.

…

Hart downed another ale. He wasn’t sure if it was his third or fourth. He looked bleakly around the unfamiliar dark tavern. It stood in the village near Camryn Park, but felt a world away.

“Another?” asked the friendly barmaid, leaning over a little more than was necessary to refill his drink, treating him an excellent view of her best and biggest assets.

On another day, before Willa, he might have been appreciative. Not this evening. Now only one woman crowded his head, seeped into every bit of his being.

“You just passin’ through, love?” asked the barmaid.

“Visiting Camryn Hall,” he mumbled, bottoming out his drink. He tossed a coin on the bar. “Another.”

She nodded, obliging him. “I’m not surprised you from the Hall.” She topped off his drink. “I could tell you was one of the Quality.”

Not in the mood for conversation, Hart grunted in response.

But she seemed not to notice. “Good people, his lordship and his family. The marquess is a just man. We was afraid when the old one died, but we needn’t have worried. And the ladies are always helping the poor in the village.”

He peered up at her. “What do you know of the ladies of Camryn Hall?”

“I suppose you’re here for Lady Adela’s betrothal.” She wiped down the bar, nodding to a newly arrived customer. “A real beauty that one. We all wagered she’d marry higher than an earl’s brother. T’was her sister we was expecting would end up in a Bellingham bed.”

Hartwell’s stomach flipped. “Why is that?” he asked mildly as he looked around the crowded tavern in a show of practiced disinterest.

“Young lovers they was, Lady Willa and the earl.” She winked conspiratorially. “Even brought her to the inn, he did. She made a fortunate escape by not wedding him, if you ask me. He’s got a mean streak that one, likes to go hard on the wenches.”

A furious pounding drummed behind his eyes. “Go on.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I done said too much.”

In no mood for games, he tossed a coin onto the bar. Eyes gleaming, she reached for it. Hart clamped his hand down over hers, stopping her from scooping up the blunt. “Speak.”

“It is said they took a room alone.” Her eyes were fixed on the coin. “It was many years past, mayhap three or four.”

Dread tingled the back of his neck. “Continue.”

“You’d best ask one of the chambermaids at the inn. Ask for Dolly. I hear she’s got quite a tale to tell.”

Hart shot to his feet. “Where is this inn?”

It wasn’t hard to find. The modest establishment stood on the outskirts of the village. It only took a few coins before the innkeeper led Hart to Dolly in the kitchen. Petite and pleasing to the eye, the maid’s soft gold curls framed a pleasant face. She curtsied wide-eyed before he drew her out into the corridor for some privacy.

“I have need of information and will be very generous if your memory proves cooperative.” He dropped a coin into her open palm.

Dolly’s eyes rounded. “My lord, what is it you wish to know?”

“It is said the Earl of Bellingham brought a lady from a fine family to this establishment.”

Understanding flashed in her eyes. “Aye, the Lady Wilhelmina,” she said softly, looking around to make sure she was not overheard.

Pain stabbed his gut. “Are you certain it was she?”

She gave an earnest nod of her head. “Aye, there’s no mistaking a beauty such as she.”

Of course he’d heard the rumors, but that didn’t stop him from feeling ill. “Did they take a room here?”

“Aye. The earl brought her up to it. I can show you the very chamber.”

The thought of seeing the room roiled Hart’s insides. Yet see it he would. It didn’t take long to pay the innkeeper for a night’s use of the chamber. He did not want to be rushed.

Dolly showed him upstairs and through a narrow corridor. She opened the door to a modest but clean room, bare except for a narrow bed, and a small wooden table and chair. He wondered if this room had looked the same when Willa had come here with Augustus. Was this where she had given herself to him?

He exhaled. “I suppose there is no telling what happened once they came here.”

When Dolly hesitated, Hart dropped another coin into her hand. “Speak.”

The wench lowered her eyes. “She came a maiden, but that is not how she left.”

“How do you know that?” A sharp pain stabbed his gut. “It is a ruinous accusation you make.”

“Nay, not I. The sheets tell the story. Proof that her virtue was no longer intact was left behind.”

“Explain.”

“She left her maidenhead on the sheets, she did. Marked with her innocence, they was. It wasn’t a large stain but it were stubborn. It took the laundress a time to clean it.”

His head swam. So there it was. The truth. In this very chamber Gus had stripped Willa naked and pushed himself inside of her. It explained why the whoreson acted as though Willa belonged to him. Turning to the bed, he pictured her lying there, smiling as she spread her legs, beckoning Bellingham into her.

Painful awareness of what had happened on this bed clogged his lungs and tore through his belly with such force he was at a loss of what to do with the enormity of it. Looking blindly around, he caught sight of Dolly standing in the doorway. She gave him an uncertain smile. Hart took in her modest curves and sweet countenance.

He dropped two coins on the bed and began to untie his cravat.

Dolly closed the door and went to him, pulling off her simple dress before climbing into the bed. He dropped down beside her and pawed clumsily at her, burying his face in the warmth of her soft flesh, desperate to forget the woman who had bedded another man in this very place.

Willa had been here, taking another man’s strokes just as Dolly prepared to accept his now. His heart boomed painfully against his ribs. Had she enjoyed it? Had she cried out in pleasure?

He stilled, realizing he did not have the heart for this mindless coupling with a stranger. What he truly craved, he could not have because there would be no release from the truth. Rolling onto his back with a heavy sigh, he stared at the ceiling. Willa’s essence permeated everything for him now, ruining the pleasure of any other woman’s body.

Misunderstanding his reluctance, Dolly murmured words of encouragement and moved her hand to the place between his legs. He flinched, self-disgust and regret filling him. Why was he here? Had he lost all honor? In a gentle motion, he set her hand away from him. “My thanks, love, but it seems I will find no satisfaction this evening.”

“Is she your lady then?”

He felt strangely at ease with the sweet chambermaid. “I am not certain.”

“There weren’t no happiness in her when she left. Looked sorry, she did, after it was done.”

Alarm shot through him. Propping himself up on his elbow, he turned to look at her. “How do you mean?”

“She ran away quick, she did, when it was done. There was tears.”

“Did he force her?”

Dolly shook her head, rising from the bed. She pulled on her dress. “I cannot say. But the earl has a certain reputation.”

“Meaning?”

“Hurting girls, humiliating them, it is the way he derives pleasure from the act. The village maids who bedded him say it is the only way he can…perform.”

Nausea swirled low in his belly. “You think he hurt her?”

“Maybe not. She is a lady, after all. There weren’t no screaming. No signs of trouble inside the room once the earl took his leave. Except.” she paused.

“Yes?”

“There was broken glass when I came to clean up. The earl paid for the damage. But the rest of the chamber ‘twas fine.”

He watched Dolly dress, taking in the sight of her slender, petite form, inadvertently comparing it to the elegant, luscious woman he truly hungered for. Hart rose and righted his clothes, anxious to be as far away from this bed and its thwarted dreams as he could manage.

He dropped a light kiss on Dolly’s warm soft cheek and closed another coin into her hand. “Thank you, love. I bid you good night.”

…

Willa wasn’t sure what woke her. Perhaps he shifted or made a noise. Whatever it was, she became aware of Hart’s presence the moment she opened her eyes. Sitting up in bed, she peered around the curtain her maid hadn’t bothered to draw.

He sat sprawled in a chair by the escritoire, his hips pushed forward, legs splayed apart. His white shirt was wrinkled as though he’d just come from his bed. Firelight flickered over his sharp-edged features, revealing the deep, black hollows of his eyes. His hair, usually so controlled and immaculate, hung loose, the inky strands strewn about his shoulders in a way that gave him a savage kind of grace.