Fantasy 02 - Forbidden Fantasy (26 page)

"A pole?" he asked, incredulous.

"It was a stupid accident"

"It certainly must have been."

It was the moment when he might have reached for her to bridge the distance between them, but her coolly delivered falsehood restrained him. They seemed to be strangers, and the opportunity to stand united in front of her father evaporated in an instant.

The Earl interrupted her reverie.

"Mr. Clayton has made some wild accusations."

"About what?"

"He claims that the two of you have been having an affair. Is it true?"

She was mortified to have her father mention such private business, and she had no background that would enable her to confer over salacious details. She scarcely knew her father, and as the past few weeks had revealed, he cared nothing for her or her welfare. She was merely a burden he was tired of assuming. How could he suppose she'd blithely confess to licentious misdeeds?

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she glanced around, dismayed to see Britannia lurking. Her eyes glowed, the insanity wafting out, smothering Caroline with her evil intentions.

Caroline's heart began to race, her palms to sweat.

She thought about Ian, about how much she loved him, about how she couldn't cause him harm. If she disavowed him to her parents, he'd never forgive her, yet if she spoke up, she'd deliberately place him in peril. What was best?

"I have sneaked off with him a few times," she cautiously disclosed.

"So it was naught but a lark?"

She shrugged, which could have signified any number of responses. It mollified her mother, confounded her father, and exasperated Ian.

"He says it was more involved than that," the Earl charged. "In fact, he says that the two of you were planning to elope. Were you?"

"He had suggested it," she acknowledged. She felt as if she was negotiating a battlefield. One wrong move and she'd be blown to bits.

"He insists that you agreed to go, then didn't arrive." The Earl scoffed as if the story was ridiculous. "I've advised him that you didn't follow through because you weren't serious and that you're proceeding with your wedding to Mr. Shelton."

Ian butted in. 'Tell me the truth, Caro. What has your mother done to you?"

"Stay out of this, Mr. Clayton," the Earl snapped; then he addressed Caroline again. "Mr. Clayton is laboring under the mistaken impression that you were coerced into changing your mind, when we all know that you would never shame me by running off and doing something so horrid. Isn't that right?"

He was so smugly confident of what her reply would be. He'd always terrorized her, had always cowed her, and he presumed that he could on this occasion, too. She peered at him, at her mother. When they hated her, and Ian loved her, was there really any doubt as to what her answer should be?

She had to pick a side, and Ian was the easy choice.

She opened her mouth to talk, when Britannia stepped into the circle of light cast by the lamp on the desk.

"I've counseled her on this topic," Britannia said. "She understands that her actions have consequences, and she will behave accordingly."

Ian hadn't realized Britannia was present, and he whipped around and snarled, "Shut up, you old bat. No one asked your opinion."

The Earl leapt to his feet. "That's enough, Mr. Clayton. I've been more than courteous. Good-bye."

"She bribed me," Ian alleged. "She barged into my home and offered me a huge sum of money to disappear."

"That's a bald-faced lie!" the Countess sneered. "As if I'd lower myself!"

The encounter disintegrated, with Ian hurling more accusations, Caroline's mother denying them, and the Earl bellowing for footmen to attend him. Several burly ones dashed into the room. They rushed for Ian, grabbed him, and started wrestling him out.

"Come with me, Caro," he roared over the din. "I know you want to! Don't stay here with them!"

Her mother leaned in and whispered, "If you go, I'll kill him. You'll be responsible for his death. Is that the conclusion you desire?"

Ian was shouting, her father was shouting, while her mother was murmuring a litany of the painful effects of poison. Caroline was dizzy, caught in a whirlwind. Ian's affection pulled her to him, but her parents' malice doused any display of bravado. She was paralyzed with indecision, yearning to flee with him, but desperate to protect him, too.

Ian was in the threshold of the library, struggling with the servants. He was so far away, as if at the other end of a long tunnel, and he was indistinct, his shape blurring, the edges fuzzy.

For a brief second, Time seemed to stop, and there was just the two of them.

"Caro!" he begged. "Come! Please! Don't do this for them. You don't have to!"

Britannia clasped her arm and brutally pinched it, her fingers digging deeply enough to bruise.

"I'll murder him," she hissed. "I mean it."

Caroline blinked, and Ian was gone.

"Ian!" she cried, but he couldn't have heard her over the commotion.

Britannia pushed her into a chair, then braced her hands on either side, blocking her in.

"Ian!" she attempted again, but Britannia clamped her palm over Caroline's mouth, stifling any further outburst.

She and her parents were frozen in place, waiting as the noise in the foyer abated, as Ian was tossed bodily into the street. Silence descended, and Britannia glared over at the Earl.

"She's completely out of control," Britannia said. "What should I do with her?"

"Whip her, then lock her in her bedchamber," he ordered.

"I already tried that. Obviously, it didn't work."

"Whip her harder," the Earl urged. "If you have to, use a thicker belt. Now take her away and leave me be."

Britannia jerked Caroline to her feet and led her out.

Caroline stumbled along, like a puppet on a string, terrified over what would happen next.

Chapter
Eighteen

How dare you butt your nose into my private affairs."

"I didn't," Rebecca insisted.

"Liar," Ian hissed.

He was across the room, sitting in the dark, the light of a single candle illuminating him. He'd been drinking, and he was very, very angry. She kept her distance, nervous about approaching him when he was in such a state.

'Truly, Ian," she persisted, "you seem upset, and I'm confused as to why. What's wrong?" "Jack tattled, Rebecca."

Jack again! The bastard! What was his problem? Why was he so determined to ride a moral high horse? "What has he said?"

He narrowed his gaze, focusing in, peering to the center of her wicked soul, but she didn't flinch from his scrutiny. She wouldn't cower to any man.

On seeing that he couldn't rattle her, he shook his head with derision. "My God, but you're a nasty piece of work."

"You call it nasty; I call it pragmatic."

She was weary of his superior attitude. By going to the Countess as she had, she'd acted out of self-preservation, and she wouldn't be sorry for thinking of her own needs first. She had no regrets.

Well, maybe a few, but they weren't worth noting.

"Have you any idea," he snarled, "what her parents are like? Can you begin to imagine what they'll do to her?"

"Her dilemma is none of my concern," she replied, giving up the pretense. "Why was she sniffing around anyway? She had to realize there'd be consequences if she was caught."

"How can you rationalize your conduct?"

"She was completely indiscreet, visiting you at all hours. If I hadn't told, someone else would have. It was only a matter of time."

"So that makes your perfidy all right?"

"What do you mean? I was doing you a favor."

"A favor! If this meddling is your concept of a favor, promise that you'll spare me from any more of your good deeds."

She was intrigued by the notion that she'd merely been trying to help—it sounded less terrible than the reality—and she pressed on.

"Honestly, Ian, you're behaving as if she was the love of your life. You're making too much of it."

"Ami?"

"Yes, you know what she was like," Rebecca said. "What was she like? I can't wait to have you tell me." "She was a flighty, pampered child. She always was." "Your point being?"

"She was having a spot of fun before she entered into her stuffy marriage to Edward Shelton. But her fling is over, the wedding is almost here, and we'll all move on."

She took a step toward him, then a few more, coming closer, as if her remarks had smoothed the route. When she drew near enough to see his face clearly, she was stunned to discover that he was distraught in a fashion she'd never presumed he could be.

"You cared for her," she accused.

After a lengthy pause, he admitted, "Yes, I did."

He grabbed a whiskey bottle that was on the floor next to his chair, and he took an ample swig.

"But... why?"

"Can you really suppose my reasons are any of your business?"

"Can you really suppose they're not? Last I checked, we had an understanding, and nothing's happened to make me believe otherwise." Except her having had sex with Jack, but she disregarded that pesky detail. "You've sneaked about and developed an affection for another woman. How could you assume I wouldn't be irked?"

"Get out of my house."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Get out! And don't come back."

"You're trying my patience. Stop being so surly."

She went to the sideboard and poured herself a brandy. She sipped it, desperate to appear casual, despite her racing pulse.

He couldn't toss her over! He absolutely couldn't! Yet his vexation was growing by leaps and bounds, and she wasn't positive how to calm him.

"I'm ordering you to leave!" he commanded. "Are you deaf?"

"No, I'm annoyed. You've positioned yourself to suffer a broken heart, and you're blaming me for it."

'This disaster is my fault?"

"Yes. You're aware of how fussy Lady Caroline is about status and class. If you truly thought for one second that she would disobey her father and choose you instead of Shelton, then you've turned into a blithering fool."

"Have I?"

"Yes. Now then, let's forget the past and look to the future."

"And what future would that be?" "Why, ours, you thick oaf! It's time for us to marry." "Marry? Is that why you accosted Lady Derby? Were you hoping she'd keep Caroline away from me?" "Yes."

"At least there was a basis for your cruelty—twisted as it might be."

"I wasn't being cruel. I was being realistic. Caroline was all wrong for you, while you know we'd be perfect together."

"I know nothing of the sort."

"You are so full of it! You've been contemplating a proposal, as have I, but Lady Caroline was distracting you."

"She definitely was."

"So... as her wedding approaches, we'll proceed with our own. We should probably leave London after it, though."

"Really?"

"We'll journey to Italy, or some other exotic locale, and I'll cure you of your lovesickness. Lady C. will be but a distant memory."

He nodded, as if he was considering her suggestion; then he repeated, "Get out of my house."

"Didn't you hear a word I said? We'll sail to Italy so you can be away as she weds. You'll avoid the gossip. Why are you being such a beast?"

"I have no desire to travel to Italy with you—or anywhere else for that matter. Now go!"

Like a toddler having a tantrum, she stomped her foot, but her temper was wasted on him. He uncurled from his chair, like a cobra about to strike, and he advanced until he towered over her. He pinned her against the sideboard, a palm across her throat as if he might strangle her.

"If I killed you," he absurdly warned, "it would be no more than you deserved."

"Kill me! For pity's sake, cease with your dramatics." She shoved his hand away, exhibiting a bravado she didn't feel. "You're being an ass."

"You're lucky that's all I'm being. You're lucky I don't take a switch to you."

He grabbed her and dragged her out of the room, and though she struggled for all she was worth, she couldn't halt their forward progress.

"But Ian, I... I... love you," she spuriously claimed.

He scoffed. "Now who's being dramatic?" "I do love you! I do!"

"You've never loved anyone but yourself. You're the most unbearable, selfish female I've ever met. Your antics used to humor me, but after this stunt, I merely find them tedious and degrading."

He threw her into the hall, just as Jack chanced to walk by so she was literally flung into his arms. She was trapped between the two irate, unsympathetic brothers. They glared down their Clayton noses at her, making her feel contrite and ashamed, both conditions which she hated.

"What's going on?" Jack inquired, as she squirmed to regain her balance.