Harlequin Historical February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Major's Wife\To Tempt a Viking\Mistress Masquerade (59 page)

‘I'm heading for Brighton, my lord, with the express intention of avoiding exactly that,' she said, her voice unsteady with past hours of weeping. ‘Now stand away from the door, if you please, and let me pass. I told you last night I have no wish to be in your company, and nothing has changed.'

‘M'lady,' Evie whispered, ‘ought I to...?'

‘Yes, go and see if the horses are put to. We need to be away from here immediately.'

Bobbing a curtsy, Evie was allowed to slip through a gap in the door that Annemarie knew she herself would not be permitted to use. Yet even then, after running the gamut of every emotion concerning his duplicity, his untrustworthiness and disloyalty, Annemarie experienced a sneaking surge of desire as they faced each other, equally resolute but totally unequal in the stamina needed to win an argument. She had hardly slept. Now the unexpected appearance of the one who had drifted and woven himself through her dark hours seemed almost like a taunt, reminding her of what she stood to lose. Every handsome inch of him. She was to have used him, mercilessly, to salve her pride. He might have helped to find her mama. And already, damn him, he'd taken hold of her heart-strings. She would have to snatch them back before it was too late.

‘Lord Verne,' she said, forcing an energy into her voice, ‘I can guess who informed you of my intention to make this journey, but I can assure you that, whatever
your
plans are, they won't affect
mine
. Nothing you can say will prevent me from going on to Brighton.'

‘Good. So when we've had breakfast, we'll proceed, shall we?'

‘Proceed?'

‘Yes, to Brighton. That is what you said, isn't it?'

‘I did, my lord. But
alone
. I shall be going nowhere with
you.
'

‘That point,' he said, gravely, ‘is one upon which we may disagree. You are, remember, my mistress and mistresses always try to please their lovers. Did you not know that? We shall go on to Brighton together.'

‘Wrong. Allow me to mention another small point, my lord. I am
not
your mistress and you have no control over my movements. It was a mistake. We shall not suit. Indeed, we never
did
suit. What's more, since Mrs Cardew and you appear to be in cahoots, she will no doubt have told you that your ridiculous pursuit of what was in my portmanteau can now be called off. The contents have been safely returned to their owner, as you probably know, so they can be of no more concern either to you or the Prince Regent. So, having got that out of the way, you can see that there is no reason at all for you to pretend any interest in my affairs. You need keep secret from me no longer your flirtation with my younger sister, either. What a pity I had not learned of your strategy sooner. It would have saved...' She turned away from him to hide the crumpling of her face and the pain in her eyes caused more by her imaginings than by the facts. Cecily had explained. To continue doubting was a way of justifying her own excessive reaction and to disbelieve
him
would mean dismantling every esteem and approval he had won from her so far.

A tap on the door introduced trays of food borne by straight-faced servants who might have been able to sense the tensions that quivered like bowstrings between the tall powerful man stopped in mid-stride and the willowy lady whose veil was still in place, even after several minutes. It was not the first time they had witnessed such anomalies, inn-parlours being what they were. Setting the table to rights, they withdrew smartly at the tip of the landlord's head, their ears straining to catch a word before the door-latch clicked.

There was no word. Instead, Verne came to take hold of her sleeveless pelisse by the shoulders and slip it down her arms without encountering the least resistance. ‘Shall we sit, sweetheart, and discuss this over coffee?' he said, laying the garment aside. ‘And your hat? One cannot eat breakfast through a veil, can one?' Before she could object, his fingers had deftly removed the hat pin that anchored the drum-shaped creation to her hair, revealing in one quick sweep the full extent of her ravaged face, the swollen eyelids, pale cheeks, pink nostrils, the lovely mouth distorted by misery. He felt the tiredness in her shoulders. ‘Oh, my sweet girl,' he whispered. ‘What on earth is all this about? Eh?'

She turned her head aside so as not to see the pity in his eyes which she knew would quite undo every one of her resolutions. ‘Don't,' she replied. ‘Don't try to talk me out of it. My mind is quite made up. Irrevocably.'

‘Irrevocably,' he said, moving a tendril of her hair away from her eyes. ‘So why not let it rest for a while, and sit down and eat. I don't suppose you had anything before you set out, did you? Come. It's indecently early for arguments, I agree.'

His conciliatory tone was hard for her to fathom, though she was not deceived into thinking he would accept a word of her refusal. But she could find no more to say as he steered her bodily towards the table where the warm aromas of bread, bacon, sausage and eggs reminded her that it was over twelve hours since she had touched any food. Her weak protestations were gently ignored as, little by little, he plied her with morsels of food and watched as each mouthful disappeared. Not for years had she experienced such personal and particular tenderness. Not since her childhood, in fact. ‘I don't think,' she said, watching him cut up her bacon, ‘that this is what people do when they're about to part company, is it?' At that point, she was obliged to open her mouth as the forkful was presented to her. ‘Well,' she mumbled, ‘not in my experience, anyway.'

Returning his attentions to his own plate, Verne also broke with good manners to reply while he chewed. ‘In
my
experience, sweetheart, there has never been a single occasion,' he said, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin, ‘when I've cared a damn about parting with any woman's company, until now. And certainly not enough to feed her at the expense of my breakfast getting cold. No, I can safely say that you, Lady Golding, are an exception in every sense and I have no intention of parting with you for any reason you can offer me, and certainly not for the pathetic reasons you've offered so far. Eat the fried bread, it's delicious. You may pick it up in your fingers, if you wish. Just this once.'

With a resignation that bordered on the verge of laughter, she did as she was bidden, savouring the bacony taste and crisp texture, and for some moments it would have been hard to guess that all was not right with their worlds. ‘Well, my lord,' she said at last, ‘I suppose I must feel honoured to be an exception in your life. But are you truly telling me that you have never been saddened to lose a woman's company?'

‘Not for more than half an hour. Relieved, usually. And before you refer to your younger sister again, my lady, allow me to tell you that, if Mrs Cardew had not particularly wanted it, nothing in the world would have persuaded me to stand up with her. Relief when the set was over hardly does justice to my feelings, for I was never so simpered at in all my life. And let me tell you also, while I'm about it, that I had to promise to line my friend Brummell's pockets to get him to take my place while I escaped. Handsomely, I might add. Those are not the actions of a man with a strategy, amorous
or
mercenary.'

Without actually saying so, she was bound to agree that his flight from her simpering sister was totally at odds with the heroism towards the French women at Vitoria. The comparison made it all the more believable. And human. She watched him mop his plate with the last of his bread roll, place his knife and fork together and sit back in his chair, satisfied in one department, at least.

‘Where's your maid got to?' he said. ‘Won't she want to eat?'

‘She's being diplomatic,' Annemarie said. ‘She'll find something.'

‘I expect she will,' he agreed, thinking that Evie might also find his valet in the process.

‘Lord Verne, there is something you ought to understand before we go any further.'

‘I'm listening.'

‘Yes. About—'

‘About my intention not to part with you.'

‘For any reason. Yes.'

‘You've discovered another reason?'

‘If you continue to interrupt me, I shall—'

‘Lose the thread of your argument? Easily done when the argument is unsound to begin with. But do go on.'

‘My argument is as strong as ever it was, my lord, and although I thank you for your hospitality—'

‘Not at all.'

‘I am quite determined that our former agreement cannot continue.' There, she thought, now I've said it. ‘You will have to reconsider, I'm afraid.'

‘Running away again. It really won't do, my lady. You cannot solve this kind of problem by running away from it, cancelling it, pulling the blinds across.'

‘Coming from you, that's rich, isn't it? Haven't you just told me of your flight from Lady Sindlesham's ball?'

‘Not the same at all. There was no agreement or commitment there. With you and me, there is. Listen to me, sweetheart,' he said, noting the quick frown of irritation cross her face. He leaned upon the table, forearms and hands projecting towards her like swords. ‘I can sympathise with your change of heart. I expected it. You're like a nervous filly spooking at your own fancies, ready to bolt for home.'

‘Not
fancies
!'' she flared. ‘I've
seen
the obstacles.'

She could not tell him how, seeing him again so unexpectedly after an interminable night of longing, jealousy and despair, she could see an obstacle she had never anticipated, that the longer she allowed this relationship to continue, the more severely she herself would be wounded, much more than him. He could walk away, apparently, without a moment's regret, even though he'd quoted her as an exception, and she would be left without the bitter sweetness of revenge, once again her heart in pieces. This would bear no comparison to those other losses. Any affection she might have found for Richard had quickly been smothered and the infatuation for Mytchett's charm paled into insignificance against the overwhelming mind-consuming emotions she'd begun to feel for this man who insisted he would not let her go. Had she not heard that before somewhere? Was that not what all men said, in hot pursuit? It would be best to end it now, before they became lovers.

‘If you're referring to our being seen together yesterday,' he said, ‘surely that lends credibility to
my
argument rather than yours. True, society will make its own assumptions about that and about our exit from the theatre, too, but to part company now would do nothing but give the scandal-mongers a field day. They don't give a hoot when a woman takes a lover, even when it's unexpected, but you'll have to suffer some very wounding remarks from your peers, once they see you can't stay the course for more than twenty-four hours. Are you prepared for that? Will the elder Miss Benistone be? And your father—does he deserve another scandal?'

Until his last rhetorical questions, Annemarie had been of a mind to dismiss the socialite gossip as something that would eventually die down. Again. But now she heard a different tone to his argument, a harder line, less to do with wanting her, needing her, and more to do with how it would look to others. She had thought he would not care about that, of all things.

‘And you too, my lord? Is that what concerns you?'

‘For myself, you mean?' He smiled and shook his head. ‘Not at all. Anyone who attaches himself, for whatever reason, to his Royal Highness had better not be too concerned about the possibility of scandal. It follows him everywhere. Few of his friends are left unscathed by it, even if only by association.' His hard line was intentional, meant to reveal another side to the discussion that might work on her pride more than her pain. She was still highly suspicious of his motives for wanting her, despite the letters that had ceased to be an issue, and she was not likely, he thought, to believe that
his
feelings matched her own. Her extraordinary fury at her sister's behaviour and of what she saw as his part in it had convinced him that she had begun at last to open up her heart. But to her, a man's heart was not to be trusted, especially not a man who had made no secret about his original quest.

‘So if your pride is not at stake,' Annemarie said, ‘and you cannot now have what the Prince Regent sent you for, why are you so concerned about what happens to me? I suppose by now you'll have earned yourself a reputation for getting any woman you want—indeed, you implied something very similar early on in our acquaintance—but you can hardly expect me to help you out with that, can you? If your friends rib you for failing, this once, that's hardly my concern. I know that yesterday I showed my pleasure at the idea of having a private house in London and someone to escort me. It was no pretence. I
did
enjoy it. But after what has just happened, you can see for yourself that I'm a bad risk. I think that, after all, I may not be ready for...er...a close relationship with you, my lord.'

He leaned further forwards, speaking quietly as if he did not want her to miss the implication of what he was about to say. ‘And I think, my lady, that you are handing me an escape route that I have no intention of using. I'm not about to make it so easy for you. But I
shall
remind you of something I said only yesterday. I hold the reins. And I shall not be made a fool of. For a man to lose a woman he's set his mind on because of a misunderstanding as flimsy as this would suggest that her intentions were unkind from the beginning. Is that how you want it to look?'

‘So it
is
about how it would look, after all. How can you deny it?'

‘How it would look for
you
, sweetheart, not for me. Could you survive it? Would it be worth it, to lose the chance of finding Lady Benistone, regaining lost friends, being mistress of your own home, having a man...a real man...in your bed to teach you what loving is like? I shall take you in hand, Annemarie. I shall accept no more of your reasons. You
are
my mistress, and we shall spend our days and nights in each other's company, as we agreed, because you need me and I need you. That's all there is to it. The outcome will take care of itself.'