Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) (41 page)

Speak, Helene. Say something. Anything.

“Are you…listening to anything I say?” she asked.

“Depends.”

“On…what?”

“If what you say matches what I want to hear.”

“Don’t do this. Please?”

Her plea stopped him momentarily. He closed his eyes. Helene thought
she saw a tremor go through him, but that had to be a trick of the light because a moment later he opened his eyes and started fiddling with the ties at the waist of his under-drawers.

“That is not what I want to hear, love.”
   
Don’t call me that!
“I…don’t usually say things
you want...to hear, My Lord. Why would I start now?”

“I suppose I’ll remain suitably deaf, then,” he replied.

“Oh! Why are you here?”  And why did that come out in a low tone and breathless-sounding?

“You don’t really need an answer to that, do you?”

He pulled the top two
laces out of their holes and wrapped them about his index fingers.
She didn’t know what expression was on his face — she couldn’t move her eyes to look that high
.

Damn him for being the best-looking man she’d ever seen.
And damn the silence that surrounded his
statement. Helene tried closing her eyes, but they disobeyed
again. He was toying
with those strings, wrapping them about his fingers and then letting them loose. Over and over. Without looking. And everything on her body was reacting. Her heart was racing. Her limbs were trembling. Her lower belly twitched. With need. Want. Desire.

She had to say something to stop this, or she was going to be welcoming him. With open arms…and everywhere else. And that would just make her another of his conquests.

Again.

So Helene opened her mouth and went after that male pride he claimed to have.   

“Of course I don’t discount the obvious, My Lord. I believe there are one million of them at last count.”

That struck. She didn’t have to ask. He bent his head and his entire frame went taut, defining ropes and sinew and hard masculine lines. And if he didn’t want her to know how much it bothered him, he shouldn’t be on display, making it easy for her to spot. He almost looked to be shaking, too, but that couldn’t be. The light was lying. He lifted his head and stared at her with the
strangest glitter visible atop his blue eyes. She looked away first.

“I don’t want your money, Helene. And if you think I’d be
undressing in a woman’s bedchamber for any amount of payoff, you’re sadly mistaken. I don’t need to pay for a woman’s favors,
remember? And I sure as hell don’t accept coin for mine. Besides which, I’m fairly certain
Linden told you of my attitude. So, if you wish to trade cutting remarks, you’ll need to sharpen them a bit more than that
.”

Her eyes narrowed as his words did one thing at least. They brought a spark of anger to the fore. And that helped mute the attraction that was tangling her tongue.

“You might as well leave,
Monsieur
Tremayne. I won’t accept you and if you don’t quit my chamber
this instant...!”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“I’ll scream.” She raised her chin.

“Scream away, darling
.
Hasn’t it occurred to you this is Tremayne Hall? I’m the
master here. And you’re my wife. No one will rescue you.”

“They will!”

“Why? They might think it the throes of ecstasy.”

“You...barbarian! You...disgusting beast! You—you Hun!”

“Christ, Helene. At least be original.”

He was right, and she knew it. She couldn’t possibly trade
remarks with him if he insisted on standing there, twirling those
damned laces in his fingers.
Hadn’t she learned that much yet? He cheated any
way he could. Showing off that body of his was just one method.

“All right, Lord Tremayne, I’ll play your little game.”

She
forced herself to talk calmly and smiled at the indecision that flitted across his
face for a moment. And then he narrowed his eyes and spoke in that icy whisper..

“You call my attentions...a game?”

“I believe I just did.  And since we’re in such a malicious mood,
let me remind you that you once referred to my virginity as one.
I believe that makes it even.”

“Oh…if only anything could.”

If he wanted to rebut her comment, he’d have to do more
than whisper that, sag a bit, and cover his eyes. And a moment later, she doubted she’d seen it as
he straightened, shoved his shoulders back, and looked back at her, clenching his jaw so that
a nerve jutted out one side
.

“You’re…not leaving?” 
Oh no
. Her voice squeaked.

“Too much at stake.”

“What does
that
mean? And no. Don’t answer that
! I don’t want to know!”

“What the hell do you want, Helene?”

“I want you to take your odious presence and leave! Take
your randy…lusts to someone who’ll appreciate them.”

“You don’t?”  He was deceptively still.

“You mean if you had a decent reason for coming to me, not
just because some interfering gossip told you about our baby?
Pardon me while I recover from my swoon!  I don’t want you,
Gillian Tremayne. Not anymore.”

That cost her, and his reaction made it harder to say,
but she did. She had her pride at stake now.
Montriart pride.

“Isn’t that too bloody bad, then? I can’t seem to keep from
wanting you.”

She laughed but it was a high and brittle sound.

“You don’t want me, Gillian Tremayne. Speak fair. And if you do it’s because of either the money or the baby. How do I know?
You didn’t want me three weeks ago, and the only things that have
changed are my financial and breeding status. I’m not blinded by
love for you, anymore. I can see quite clearly now. I don’t think it was even love. I think it was…more of…an infatuation.”

He wavered. S
he didn’t think he’d really fall, and besides, the wall
stopped it. And then he glared at her before standing back upright. Helene didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t leaving? The last lie had burned her lips.

“I suppose I deserved that,
Madame
Frost Bitch. I don’t
believe it, but I do deserve it.”

If she believed the tremor in his voice, it would
silence her. Besides, he knew how to act. He was doing it
deliberately. He wasn’t undressing in her bedchamber because of love and devotion. There
had to be another reason.

She forced herself to a calm she was far from feeling and
tried another tack. Reasoning with him.

“I’m sorry about the child, Gillian. I didn’t
want it, and
I—”

“Stop! Please. Don’t say that. It’s done. You’re carrying my heir. I’m here. And I haven’t looked my future in the eye for three
weeks now. I’m not leaving, Helene. And I don’t think you really want me to.”

Everything she’d said simply made him more
determined to bed her. She couldn’t think of anything else. S
he
hadn’t begged yet. She didn’t want to, especially after the last
time, but the memory of how difficult it had been to recover from his desertion
strengthened her, making it easier for her eyes to fill with tears
and her shoulders slump.

“Gillian. Please. Don’t do this.”

“Always a pleasure to see your acting,
Madame.”

“I don’t want you, and yet you won’t go. Why, Gillian? Why?”

“I seem to be making a habit of taking advice.”  He shrugged
and started pulling the rest of his crotch ties out.

She flushed. Trembled.
Her mind went blank. It was his fault.

He had the leather strings out and twisted them together,
his blue eyes like glowing stones in his face. His
features were shuttered and closed. She’d likened him to a statue, more than once. Now, he truly looked it.

Her
mouth opened, and she spoke words her mind
hadn’t cleared.

“Wasn’t...a blond available for your lusts, Lord Tremayne?
Surely you could’ve found one? Maybe the
signora
could
have a little tea party in your honor? I’ve seen how she looks at you. She wouldn’t have to be forced. A gentleman wouldn’t force
his wife, you know. A gentleman—”

“Shut up, Helene! Just bloody shut up!”

She’d reached him finally. A red flush started at his chest and spread outward,
alarming her more than the
sight of his clenched fists.

“You win, damn it! I can’t do it! I can’t! I’m not a
gentleman, Helene. I never have been! All right? I shouldn’t have acted the Hun the night of my mother’s godforsaken ball! I
shouldn’t have pretended to be drunk, and I shouldn’t have taken
you to France!

“Christ, there’s no end to it! I shouldn’t have taken Bridget’s
hellish advice. I shouldn’t have molested you in that damned
gazebo. I shouldn’t have left you three weeks ago, either. Do you think I haven’t lived with that thought with every single, agonizing
beat my heart keeps sending? You think I’m made of stone? If only I could find that
state, I’d bloody well embrace it for life!”

“You pretended to be drunk...at your mother’s ball?” Her
voice rose to a scream. “You
knew
I was a virgin, and you still made me go to France? You bloody bastard!”

“Yes, Helene, yes! I’m a bloody bastard and a cad. Are you
satisfied? I left because I couldn’t possibly face you, damn it! I mean look. I can’t face you
now, and I’ve got everything to lose! Yes, I came tonight because I heard of our baby. I thought I could actually try to see if you could care
for an unprincipled, ungentlemanly cad like me. And look.
I failed. I admit it. Goddamn it to hell! I
should’ve stayed in London, where at least the walls have pity! Oh…
Christ
.”

He’d snagged his shirt from the pile of the floor and wiped moisture from his cheeks with it. It was an angry motion, and
then he shoved an arm through the sleeve and ripped it.

“Damn
cheap material!”

His shirt was probably fashioned of the finest
material known. She’d have pointed it out, but he wasn’t looking anywhere near her anymore. He lifted a leg and slid it into a pant leg
, leaning against the wall to do so, and ignoring where his drawers gaped open.

“Gillian?”

“Don’t! Please? I can’t face you. Not now.”

He raised his hand. He must’ve been telling the
truth, because he wasn’t looking at anything other than the floor.

“I forfeit
the field, Madame. Pray don’t make it any more
difficult. Please? I concede defeat to the frost bitch, but I’m begging Brandywine
to allow me a bit of.... Damn these cheap trousers!”

He tried to button them, but his hands were shaking badly. S
he’d never seen anything like it.

“Gil?”  She whispered his name as she slid from the covers.

“Helene, please? I’m begging you. Don’t say another word.
I think I can make it to my own chamber, but not if you insist on taking
my heart and stomping on it. Do you know what it’s like to know
you’ve kicked the most wonderful emotion in your life in the teeth…
and unable to do a damned thing about it? Damn me!”

“Gillian, listen to me.”

She was almost to him, and he looked up, jerked back a step,
stumbled, and then he fell. Hard. She felt the thud of his landing through the soles of her bare feet. It looked painful. Sounded worse. She went to her knees beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Gillian?”

“Oh…
Jesus
!”  He shrugged her hand off. “Can’t you give me anything, Helene? Please? A little discretion? Maybe a
little turn of your head for my loss of dignity? No? Well, that
bloody well figures, too, damn it. You won’t give me any quarter,
will you? Fine! Just bloody fine! I suppose I deserve that, too.”

“Oh, Gillian.”

She whispered it, but he had to hear her. His voice got more desperate-sounding.