Forever Winter (3 page)

Susanna nodded. Emotional but intelligent, she understood logic and common sense when she heard it. Sometimes, it just had to be pounded into her.

Camden stroked a stray hair behind her ear and lowered his mouth to hers. Air filled her lungs seconds before his mouth clasped hers. His talented lips tasted and teased hers. A moan gurgled in the back of her throat.

“Camden,” she gasped his name like a plea once he finally pulled back for air. “The door is wide open and we are without a chaperone.” She blinked several times to clear her clouded vision. She licked her lips and nodded to the entryway. “Anyone could see.”

He smirked roguishly. “Let them. We are betrothed. Two people in love, who are about to wed, are expected to kiss.”

“Kiss, yes,” she whispered. “You, my lord, make love with your lips.” Susanna suddenly flamed scarlet. Her eyes widened like saucers and the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

Camden laughed as his embarrassed fiancée fumed. An arrogant grin spread across his face. “Do I? You have never admitted that before.”

She scowled, her cheeks so hot she could barely stand it. “Well, there are some things you shouldn’t be privy to.”

His smirk lengthened. “Really? I am honored that my bride appreciates the way I kiss. If she didn’t, what kind of man would that make me?”

She smacked his arm. “There are eyes and ears everywhere, Camden. Especially today. I’m sure the servants are already gossiping that we are spending time together on the one and only day we shouldn’t. It’s bad luck.” To make matters worse, the few guests that arrived the evening before were bound to hear the gossip. And since their chaperone left without permission, leaving them unaccompanied, she expected another servant to arrive any minute, courtesy of her mother.

Camden drew her into his arms and brushed his lips across her hairline. “I make my own luck.” He blew softly in her ear. She shivered in response. “We control our destiny, Susanna, no one else. Besides, you have nothing to worry about. The one activity we shared truly worth gossiping about will never reach the light of day.”

Her face flamed even hotter. Air escaped her lungs in short, choppy gasps as she remembered the way he touched and fondled her for hours. That wonderful
activity
made her feel as if she was the most cherished woman in the entire world. She despised double standards, as did Camden, but because her good name and reputation needed to remain protected in all areas, especially in high society gossip circles, they refused to make love again until their wedding night.

But now, with her wedding possibly postponed, she glanced at the open doorway one last time and pushed it from her mind. She embraced Camden with all her strength. She was so tired of denying the wondrous craving that pooled in her stomach when he was near. Kissing him as if her life depended on it, she felt his breath entered her mouth and traveled deep into her lungs. She tasted his strong, rich essence and nearly melted. Trailing her hands up the back of his neck, she pulled free the ribbon pinning his long hair respectably to his nape and buried her hands in the dark silk. His embrace soothed the anger, worry and misery burning inside her.

Camden responded with equal fervor. He clasped the narrow dip of her waist and massaged firm flesh sheathed beneath layers of restricting peach-patterned fabric. He growled low in his throat and bent at the knees to reach the lacy hem of her day dress. Lifting several layers of skirt to grasp her thigh, he silenced her shocked moan by deepening the kiss. Her warm skin flared hot beneath his exploration. He trailed his hand higher until Susanna finally broke free from their intense kiss and twisted free of his smoldering embrace.

She stumbled back and braced herself against the sofa. She felt deliciously exposed and wanton beneath his yearning gaze. Breathing heavily, blushing scarlet, Susanna scowled at her fiancé but couldn’t find the desire to reprimand him. He rarely touched her like that. She loved when he did. With any luck, after tonight, they wouldn’t have to restrain themselves any more.

CHAPTER THREE

A knock vibrated on the tea room door. Susanna glanced up just as she finished nibbling on a bit of bread while resting on the sofa. Camden stood by a window across the room and watched the snow fall. Even with an appropriate distance apart, she blushed in the presence of the male servant. Her mother obviously did not send him.

“Yes?” Susanna called out with an air of forced nonchalance. She dusted her hands free of bread crumbs and stuck her hands back through her leather gloves. The servant entered and nodded respectfully. “Lord Lorican requests Lord Beckinworth’s presence, milady.” He then focused on the viscount as the man turned from the window. “His lordship is in his study, milord.”

Camden nodded. “Very well. Tell him I will be with him shortly.”

The servant nodded and withdrew.

As Camden headed toward the door, Susanna followed him. He stopped and frowned at her. “He requested me, love. Not you. Stay here. I will not be gone long.”

Her brow rose. “I must check on the reverend. I have known him for years. Even if he is incapable of performing the ceremony, I need to be assured that he is fine and that there will be no lasting damage from his fall.” She couldn’t bear the guilt if he was seriously injured or died. She grasped her bicep and grimaced. She had broken her arm years ago after being thrown from a mad horse. She understood how dangerous such falls could be.

He glanced into the hallway just as two servants hurried around the corner with lace overflowing from their arms. Camden discreetly grasped Susanna’s arm and pulled her away from the doorway. “I will inquire after the reverend. Your mother will return shortly or a chaperone will arrive in her stead. I would appreciate it very much if you waited here with the door locked. I do not want you wandering about unaccompanied.”

Her brow rose. “Door locked? Unaccompanied? This is my father’s home. I will go where I please.”

The viscount gripped her arm slighter harder. “Not today, Susanna. Listen to me for once in your life. As your future husband, I am asking that you wait.” He released her without further discussion and left the room.

Perplexed by his strange behavior, Susanna irritably crossed her arms but did as her betrothed requested. Several minutes passed until curiosity chipped away at her patience. Stalking to her father’s study, she pressed her ear to the door. Camden’s voice, as well as her father’s and a few other mens’
echoed from within but she couldn’t decipher their clipped words through the thick barrier.

With a long sigh, she returned to the tea room for the empty breadbasket and dropped it off in the kitchen. She then decided to find either her mother or her visiting sisters. Even though she cared for her two older sisters, she found them conniving and self-centered. They married for class and security, choosing the wealthiest men who made offers for them. Her brothers likewise married titled women with sizeable inheritances. While they all made excellent matches, love simply wasn’t important to them. Her brothers sought mistresses soon after their nuptials and she believed her brothers-in-law did, as well.

After a year of courtship, six months of which were part of their engagement, Susanna still felt amazed that she had made a love match—with a viscount, no less. After two embarrassing London seasons, she expected to marry a commoner with a good supply of land and wealth. Love had little to do with marriage. She needed a husband to provide shelter, clothing and food. Men needed wives to bear children—preferably males—to ensure the continuation of their family name. Despite this, many fortune-hunters found her unsuitable since she was the fifth daughter of a baron. Her inheritance was modest.

Camden Beckinworth, now the fifth viscount of the Beckinworth estate, didn’t care. While the handsome rake wasn’t the sort she sought for a husband—with a reputation for adventure while at Eton and during his year on the Continent—she found the man beneath the flawed exterior to be vulnerable and sincere with a sarcastic wit. His surprising kindness and respect ensnared her heart early on. And though he could be arrogant to a fault, she found him down-to-earth with simple wants. She trusted him, and valued that even higher than love. He would never dally with other women. He would always protect her. If they fell on hard times, as had his parents, she wouldn’t mind getting her hands dirty—literally, since he owned and operated an extensive cotton mill in northern Derbyshire. Commitment and vows should never be broken ; for richer or poorer.

Unfortunately, her siblings and their spouses did not regard vows so highly.

Susanna growled softly beneath her breath as she thought of her eldest sister’s husband. She doubted the scoundrel kept his marriage vows for more than a week. He flirted with her on far too many occasions for her to think of him in brotherly terms. Her sister did not believe her— and even called Susanna a useless, jealous child making unfounded accusations—and a rift separated them ever since.

She headed toward the main reception hall, anxious to see how her mother and the servants could possibly transform the stuffy hall into something airy and magical. Paying little attention to her surroundings, she turned the corner far too fast and slammed hard into something large blocking her path. Stumbling back, two strong hands easily caught her before she landed on her bottom. Susanna quickly composed herself before darting her gaze to a face that churned her stomach.

“Now, Susanna, what if I had been a servant carrying dinner or laundry? As lady of your own household, you must be careful.”

The airy, laughing comment would have sent blush steaming into her cheeks had it come from anyone other than her sister’s husband— her
eldest
sister’s husband.

She stepped back and maneuvered free of his smarmy grip. Surprisingly, the tall, broad man in his early thirties allowed the retreat with a jovial smile plastered on his weasel face.

“Lord Gaynor, how nice you could come.” Susanna inwardly cringed as she offered her hand for him to kiss. Luckily, she wore gloves. “You arrived last night, correct? Unfortunately, I already retired for the night and could not greet you.” While her sisters and brothers arrived several days earlier with their families in tow, Earl Gaynor had been preoccupied. She considered it just another stroke of bad luck that he managed to attend her wedding after all.

He grasped her hand and kissed just above the knuckles. His smile widened until pearly white teeth, menacing like a wolf’s, peeked out from his lips. “Today is special. I understood completely.” He offered his arm to escort her down the hall.

Susanna gritted her teeth. She couldn’t refuse without offending. He had done or said nothing offensive—yet. Besides, he was a guest in her father’s home; she was obligated to be polite. As he led the way to the main hall, a few servants passed by with Christmas greenery in their arms. She breathed deep of the fresh evergreen and allowed the strong scent to soothe her.

“Are you nervous?” Lord Gaynor bent his head closer to hers, his voice a mere whisper.

Susanna shivered as his cool breath skated across her cheek. “Nervous? Of course not. I am pleased to marry Lord Beckinworth.”

Gaynor grinned. “My sweet Deandra was just as naïve and happy as you are now. All she could think of was the wedding.”

Susanna remembered. Deandra’s demands on her wedding day had been outrageous. “I doubt my sister was naïve five years ago, but I do believe she was happy. Is she still?” Susanna already knew the answer but her curiosity burned for his opinion.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Obviously. I am in no short supply of money.” He lightly chuckled. “And the twins keep her and the governess very busy.”

Susanna feigned politeness even though his words wounded her. Deandra was terribly unhappy. She was the mother of two spoiled children with a husband that frequented taverns and gentlemen’s clubs. Deandra pretended nothing was wrong, even the obvious fact that her live-in governess was her husband’s mistress. Susanna and her parents, and Camden, when he dined with them over the summer, pitied their happy façade. Everyone was miserable— except Lord Gaynor.

“The wedding,” Gaynor continued, “was not what I meant. Are you nervous of what is expected of you afterward? Tonight?”

She frowned in confusion. A few seconds passed before her gaze widened and she stopped dead in her tracks. She whipped her smoldering gaze to her brother-in-law’s. “That, my lord, is none of your business.” Her temples throbbed and her blood pounded in fury. “Thank you for the escort but I can easily find my own way through my father’s manor.” She tried to jerk her arm free but he tightened his grip.

“Why, Susanna, I only ask out of reasonable concern.” He scanned the hall in both directions. Servants chatted in the distance but no one was near. “And now you are upset. Obviously, you must be worried. We should discuss it.” He pulled her into the nearest room, an expansive library with large, airy windows now cluttered by obstructing wreaths and candles.

Susanna growled deep in her throat and wrenched free. She hated being alone with him. He made her feel weak and worthless. As he quickly closed the double doors and faced her, she braced both hands on her waist, refusing to appear weak or scared. “This is highly inappropriate.” Even though she had spent time alone with Camden, and that was just as inappropriate as this now,
that
door had been open and she trusted Camden. In her mind, though perhaps not in society’s, there was a difference. “Have you been drinking? You know this is improper.”

Lord Gaynor simply smiled and motioned her to the nearest couch. She refused to budge. He remained in front of the doors. “Improper? Not at all. We are family and I am married.” He glanced down at the gold band circling his finger. His gaze then encompassed the large chamber filled with scores of heavy, leather-bound books. “You are a respectable young woman and we should discuss your fears. If I can offer advice or assistance in any way, I would be honored to do so.”

Her brows rose. The blasted man was incorrigible! They had never been close. And even if they were, she would never discuss such private things with a man!

A man not her husband.

The first time he touched her—an accidental grazing of her breast when she was sixteen—had left her wary of him. She convinced herself she imagined it; that he truly had lost his footing and bumped into her. But when it happened again, and this time his gaze connected with hers, fiery intention blazing, she knew to avoid him, to never be alone with him again. She should have told her mother the first time it happened. Or the second. Or the third or fourth. But she was too embarrassed. Not only that, the scandal would have publically humiliated her sister. Every time she visited her eldest sister, or Deandra and her husband visited Lorican Manor, Lord Gaynor always found reason to be alone with her. She couldn’t escape him when everyone considered them friends. Family.

Once she finally summoned the courage last year and confessed everything to her sister, she had lost Deandra as a friend. But she didn’t regret telling the truth. Deandra, as foolish as she was, deserved nothing less.

She thought of Camden and her thumping heart calmed. He would search for her once he returned to the vacant tea room. Several servants saw Gaynor walking with her, but would think nothing of it. After all, strolling through the hall where anyone could see them left them little privacy compared to behind closed doors where anything inappropriate could happen.

Unlike her sister, Camden believed her and promised to keep the bastard away from her. An impossible promise, but she hoped for it nevertheless.

Now that she was alone with Lord Gaynor, an important earl who lived in an immaculate estate outside London, she truly felt alone. This was her father’s home, a place she should feel safe, and the library was her favorite room in the manor, but now everything felt alien.

As Lord Gaynor stalked toward her, she backed up and hurried around a delicately-carved lounger, placing it between them. Her heart pounded in her throat. She swallowed hard and jerked her gaze to the solid, sturdy doors, wondering if she could dart by him and escape. She knew there wasn’t enough time to race to a window, toss the greenery and candles aside, thrust open the panes and somehow gather her wide, billowing skirts in her hands to jump out into the deep snow.

“No, you aren’t nervous about tonight.” Gaynor easily maneuvered around the lounger. “You have experience. I’m sure the viscount is grateful, but I highly doubt he would like that information spread. I have many connections, you know. All I have to do is tell a few certain people and the ton would be aghast.”

She bit her lip. “You have no proof. Would you like to be sued for slander? Attacking a proper lady’s reputation without fact or merit is risky.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I am willing to take that chance, unless you find a way to convince me otherwise.”

Susanna barely breathed as dozens of thoughts rushed through her mind. She wasn’t virtuous, but he had no way of knowing it. He was testing the water, trying to break her by blackmail. She refused to fall victim, refused to allow his cold words to taint that night of passion she held dear to her heart.

“Be my guest, but expect a barrister and a Bow Street Runner on your doorstep.”

He folded his arms across his chest in challenge. “You act innocent, but I doubt you are. Men have needs and waiting for a proper woman is torturous. Not that I know anything about that. Deandra was quite willing before our nuptials.” He smirked as she cringed. “I do not see a man of Beckinworth’s reputation waiting long. Perhaps he sought solace elsewhere? Do you know of his travels in Europe?” Triumph sparked in his eyes as she clenched her fists. “He was living with two prostitutes in Amsterdam when his parents died. He visited brothels all the time while at Eton. We often shared ladies, but rarely spoke outside idle chitchat.”