Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 02] (20 page)

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Authors: The Duke Next Door

BOOK: Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 02]
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Deirdre sent Calder off with a caress and a smile. The caress went with him but the smile stayed. She closed her bedchamber door with a dreamy sigh, then laughed at her own smitten behavior.
After she cleaned herself and dressed in a simple chemise and wrapper, it was time to tidy up. The room was a shambles, and while Patricia certainly wouldn’t carry tales, Deirdre was still too shy about all this to want anyone to see it! First, she dealt with the washbowl and the sodden cloth with its betraying blots. That went to sizzle in the hearth while the water would simply have to go out the window.
She opened the window and tossed the water high with a flourish. Was that a muffled curse from someone outside? Belatedly she thought to check if anyone was below, but even leaning out as far as she could, she saw nothing at the base of the great tree beside her window.
Leaving the window open wide, she faced the pile of ruined gowns on the bed. Blushing, she wadded up the one that had lain beneath her. There was no saving
that.
A few of the others were only badly wrinkled, so she shook them out briskly and hung them in the wardrobe.
The stunning blue one was a sad loss, though it had
been her gain. As she lifted the blue gown to inspect the damage, she reveled in the richness of it. Lementeur was a genius. This was quite the most daring gown she’d ever worn, for although there was nothing indecent about the placement of the neckline, the gown had been so perfectly fitted that her bosom had risen from it like a dockside doxy’s!
Smiling as she remembered Calder’s gobsmacked reaction, she held it before her and spun about, letting the heady rustle of the silk swirl around her plainer muslin skirts.
Thud.
She whirled at the noise behind her to find that someone had clambered through her window.
“Baskin?”
He clambered to his feet, somewhat the worse for his climb. He’d lost a button from his weskit, both shoulders of his tight dandy’s coat had popped their seams and he wore a leafy twig in his hair like a lopsided antler. He looked so ridiculous that her initial alarm began to fade and fury took over.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She pointed at the window. “Get out this instant!”
He gaped at her. “But I’ve been waiting for this chance to speak to you! When you opened your window and smiled down at me, I knew you wanted me to come to you!”
Then he moved toward her, blocking her from the door, cutting her off from the bellpull. Now she remembered why she ought to fear him.
Baskin was quite mad.
With his groom riding several feet behind him, Calder rode away from Brook House and off to the factory that
needed him so badly at the moment. So much to do there … so many problems to solve …
Yet, for all the urgent importance of his goal, he could not seem to concentrate upon it.
The churning city faded from his consciousness as he sat his mount, trotting a route the horse knew as well as he did. Gone were the shouts, the cries, the rattle of carriage wheels on cobbles, the clanging and banging of civilization that never seemed to ease.
He liked the city, liked the orderliness of the solid, square buildings and the linear streets that took one where one needed to go. At the moment, however, he could have been riding through the darkest forest for all the attention he gave his world.
Deirdre filled his mind. The memory of the last few hours swam through his thoughts in random sensory impressions that made his palms damp and his throat dry.
The elegant ivory length of her … the warm fall of silken, golden hair over his skin … the way she smiled, sometimes bold, other times bashful … her hands roving hesitantly, then urgently, over his skin.
What a heady mixture she was—innocence and sensuality, humor and strength, bravery and shyness.
Yet, despite the pull of those soft, warm, wet thoughts, he was riding away from her at this very moment.
Idiot.
Oh, yes. He was an idiot indeed.
You should go back immediately, lock yourself in that bedchamber for the next three weeks and make many more such memories! To hell with the damn factory!
All right.
Wait. No. Not all right. There was work to be done, problems to be solved, matters to put in order …
All of which could easily be put in someone else’s hands. He had people to manage this sort of thing, competent, talented people who were twitching for more responsibility and status.
Stunned by the concept, and by the ease with which it could be carried out, Calder halted his horse on the middle of the bridge. Behind him, his groom halted as well. The tide of humanity flowed around them, giving their fine attire and even finer horses a respectful margin.
Let me get this straight. I could, quite simply, go home?
Home. Not Brook House. Home, where his wife and child awaited him.
Home … to his family.
Oh, yes.
With that thought ringing through his mind on a pure crystal note, Calder signaled his groom and turned his horse sharply about.
DEIRDRE STOOD CAPTIVE in the center of her bedchamber with Baskin between her and the door. Perhaps she ought to smile at him, to cajole him. After all, Baskin was a pup, a sop to her pride, a pawn in a game she wasn’t interested in playing any longer. Wasn’t he?
Unfortunately, something seemed to have inspired the darker side of Mr. Baskin. Far too alarmed to smile, Deirdre waited cautiously. He advanced upon her, his eyes hot and cheeks flushed as he gazed at her loose hair and flimsy attire.
“I’ve a plan, my darling,” he said urgently. “It’s so daring and outrageous that no one will expect it, least of all the Beast of Brookhaven!”
Keeping one eye on her goal, the door to the hall, Deirdre held out a placating hand. Where were the servants? Could she reach the bellpull from here?
“I must look a sight. Won’t you wait for me downstairs, Mr. Baskin?” No, blast it. She lacked four or five steps yet. “I’ll have Fortescue bring us some tea—” She turned in a rush.
“No!” Baskin lunged forward to pull her away from the embroidered strap that swung just out of her reach. He grabbed her arm and towed her toward the bed. “You mustn’t alert his servants! They’re part of his scheme!”
She tried to pull away naturally. “What scheme? Who?” His grip didn’t slacken. She’d sometimes managed to slip away from Tessa by relaxing her resistance for a moment. Putting her other hand gently over where his knuckles went white with the force of his grasp, she let herself down to sit next to him on the mattress. “Please, Mr. Baskin, help me understand.”
He leaned close.
“I’m going to save you from Brookhaven!”
His eyes were wild with mingled fear and excitement and his breath reeked.
Deirdre shrank away. “You’re drunk, sir!”
You’re mad, you idiot!
Careful. He was on the brink of losing control. She’d fought off enough of Tessa’s groping suitors to know that much. If she screamed in this vast house, would anyone hear?
“Drunk?” He wheezed a high chuckle. “No, no, just a little liquid courage, as my new friend says. He’s a friend to you, as well, you know. You have many friends.”
“Indeed?” She could bloody well use a few right now! Nodding slowly, she tried to peel his fingers off
her aching arm. “Mr. Baskin, I fear you do not know your own strength.”
He wrapped his other hand about her other arm and she found herself quite thoroughly pinned in his grip. He might seem effete, but she was no match for him still. Seated as she was, she had no opportunity to kick him anywhere useful, so she held that plan in reserve. Perhaps she was in no real danger. This was Baskin. Likely he only wanted to plead his devotion to her again.
Then why did every instinct in her body scream for her to run for her life?
She took a breath and became stern. “Mr. Baskin! Let me go at once! My husband awaits me—”
“That’s my plan!” He smiled joyously. “Your husband won’t want you after we’ve consummated our love!”
“What?”
“Oh, my love, my beautiful Deirdre—I know you’ve saved yourself for me!” And he was on her, nuzzling his wet mouth into her neck, pressing her back onto the bed with his weight until she could scarcely breathe.
“Baskin!”
She struggled, but he simply held her arms down and rendered her helpless. She kicked now in earnest, but he trapped her limbs beneath his weight as he pressed her down. She tried to scream, but her cries were stifled as his mouth came down over hers, wet and disgusting.
She writhed furiously, but she couldn’t dislodge him, could scarcely breathe—
Bite him!
Yes—
But her teeth closed on empty air as he flew away from her, landing against the nearest wall with a crash that shook the house.
Calder! “Oh, thank God!” Wiping her arm across her bruised mouth in revulsion, Deirdre scrambled up to see her husband pounding the living daylights out of her assailant, the black rage on his face dangerous to behold.
After the first few blows, which Deirdre shamelessly relished, her fury turned to fear. Calder didn’t look as though he planned to stop anytime soon!
Baskin, who had seemed so powerful and dangerous just moments before, now in Calder’s enraged hands seemed pathetic and weak, a victim of too much imagination and too little sense.
“Stop!” Deirdre rushed forward to wrap her hands around Calder’s raised fist. “You mustn’t kill him!”
Calder froze, then turned his head slowly to look at her. She shrank back from his furious, accusatory glare, her hands slipping numbly from his. He couldn’t think—“Calder, no—”
“Leave her alone!” Baskin struggled to rise from his semiconscious sprawl. “This is all my doing—she had no idea I’d come up with a plan for us to run away together! She feared she was going to have to stay wed to you forever!”
Deirdre gasped. Baskin’s lovestruck protestations weren’t helping her case! “Shut up, you idiot!” No, blast it, that only made it look as though she had something to hide!
She turned her back on Baskin and faced Calder. “Please, Calder—you’ve misunderstood this completely! Baskin—”
Baskin tried to rape me
. That would only get the stupid boy killed outright! “Baskin has had a bit too much to drink. I’m sure that’s the only reason why he would try something like that—here in Brook House itself!” Couldn’t he see that only a drunken idiot would risk such a thing?
“As opposed to somewhere else, you mean? Your aunt’s house, for instance? Haven’t you been seeing him for months?”
She drew back. “Wh—what? No, Calder, don’t be an idiot—”
His eyes snapped black ice. “I won’t be, not any longer at least.” He took her by the hand, his grip implacable but not painful. “Fortescue, toss milady’s paramour into the street. I have things I wish to say to her.”
He turned and strode toward his bedchamber, moving so quickly that Deirdre could scarcely keep up. She tried to pull away, or slow him down at least, but it was as though she were a feather in his wake.
Anyway, why was she struggling? She wanted nothing more than to get Calder away from Baskin and somewhere quiet so she could explain this entire hideous mess properly! So when he attempted to drag her, she simply left her hand in his and outran his long legs, reaching the door before him.
“So sorry to spoil your beastly display,” she said, fighting for calm. “I have things I wish to say as well.”
He ignored her grumbling and burst through the door into his bedchamber. Argyle looked up in surprise from where he was arranging something manly in some manly fashion.
“Leave us!”
The valet obeyed his lordship’s barked command with alacrity and left her alone with her large, looming, furious husband who was convinced she’d betrayed him.
CALDER COULD HARDLY breathe for the pain in his chest, like a tightening band of iron that threatened to burst his heart! His hands shook with it, his very vision was clouded by it—God, she was driving him mad!
Old betrayal, old pain, threatened darkly but was faded to mere shadow by the bright and astonishingly tormenting new sense of loss that swept him.
Deirdre!
He’d thought—hoped—
But what the hell did that matter now? Just like with Melinda, just like with Phoebe, he’d proven unsatisfactory to her and she’d turned to another! It might seem ridiculous to think that puling fop could draw her—but Melinda’s lover hadn’t been much more than that! When he so obviously had no idea what a woman wanted, how could he hope to keep one?
I want to keep this one. I cannot let her go!
She was here, where he’d longed to have her—in his chamber, in his grasp.
She stood watching him, still bearing the traces of their morning together—or was it the betraying signs of another man’s fervent touch? Her hair was down, coiling over her pearly shoulders like golden
silk and her lips were swollen by another man’s impassioned kisses.
He wanted to toss her from the house. He ached to wrap his arms about her knees and beg her to stay with him. He longed to turn back the clocks an hour and be laughing in her bedchamber with her, blissfully unaware of her wayward nature!
Worst of all, he craved her still.
Though she was still somewhat dressed, Deirdre felt naked before him, her stomach shuddering slightly from the cold and the twining unease and need within her. She did not move or speak now, her saucy words useless against the black lust in his dark eyes. She was about to meet the Beast.
He reached out, but instead of wrapping his hand about her breast, he took the thick rope of her hair and wound it slowly about his fist. She let her head drop back a bit from the weight of it, but he did not pull.
He moved in, close enough for her to feel his erection press to her belly through her wrapper. His dark gaze burned into hers. “What have you done to me, Deirdre?” The question was real, the loss and doubt harsh in his deep voice.
Only love you. Only that
. She must be the first, the only one to do so in his entire life, for he had no recognition of it. Melinda had wanted the title, Phoebe had longed for security and safety.
How could she be the only woman in the world to truly see the worth in this man, this noble, lonely wounded creature who had captured her heart across a crowded chamber of inquest so many years ago?
Then again, for all her acclaimed beauty, had any man ever gazed at her the way this man did now, his
soul naked and aching in his eyes, asking without words for something he could not name?
He thought he wanted her submission, her body, her dark, soft, wet places to conquer. Any woman could give him that. What she had to offer was her heart.
Calder gazed down at the proud, outrageous beauty who now offered herself so compliantly to him. So beautiful, so soft, and soon so very naked. His cock pulsed so powerfully he felt the dizzying loss of blood to his brain.
She’s only trying to distract you. She doesn’t want you. She loves another.
God help him, he wasn’t sure he cared.
Don’t give in.
Give in.
Winning, losing, control and submission—all such thoughts faded from his consciousness. All that he felt roaring through his veins was dark, bottomless
need
.
Right now, more than air or life itself, he needed this woman.
So he took her.

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