Jaded Moon (Ransomed Jewels Book 2) (18 page)

Lady Clythebrook laughed. “I was right from the start. You’re a very bright fellow. Walter would have approved most heartily.”

“Approved of what? Surely you haven’t attempted to play matchmaker?”

“Oh, no. I would never play matchmaker with two people’s lives. At least not people I cared for. What I attempted to do was much more serious. Much more.”

The warm, friendly smile on her face faded. What remained was a little glimmer of sadness. “I am ill, Lord Rainforth.”

She held her hand up to stop the words of sympathy he started to speak.

“Oh, I’m not dead yet, but God has given me a glimpse of my mortality.”

“Does Miss Foley know?”

“No.” Lady Clythebrook smiled. “She, of course, believes I will live forever. While I don’t intend to die tomorrow, neither am I so confident I will see another spring. God willing, that will give me enough time to take care of one very important detail before I die”

“Would I be wrong to assume that Miss Foley is the one detail you must see to?”

“You are very astute. I am going to tell you something I have never told anyone else. Something I doubt you’ll hear from Josephine herself.

“You know Josephine came to live with us when she was quite young. For more than a year after we brought her to live with us she hoarded a portion of every meal she ate. She stuffed her pockets with anything she could manage to steal from the table when she thought we weren’t watching and hid it in a small box she kept beneath her bed. We found out later the children often went to bed hungry when the orphanage did not have enough to feed them.

“When she was thirteen, she was released from the orphanage to work for one of the local merchants, a man by the name of Foster. There was nothing unusual about this as nearly all the children were fostered out by that age.

“Although new to the area, the Fosters appeared to be upstanding people and Walter approved of Josie going to live with them. She was to be a companion to Mrs. Foster, who was an invalid, and work in the shop when she wasn’t needed at the house. It was exactly the future Walter envisioned for her.

“A few weeks after she was there Walter went to visit Foster with the express purpose of checking up on Josephine. Walter came home disturbed because she didn’t seem happy. I laughed off his concern and told him she was probably homesick for the other children at the orphanage and in time she’d be fine.

“Neither Walter nor I gave her another thought and left soon after for London. We were gone several months and when we returned Banks greeted us with news that Josephine had run away from the Fosters and the local tenants had been searching for her.”

Lady Clythebrook smoothed the lace handkerchief she’d wadded in her hand and folded it in half. “It took Walter four days to find her. She’d been hiding in the woods for more than a week.” She stopped and took a breath before she continued. “Foster had…raped her. She was hurt so badly she nearly died.”

Ross tried to speak but no words would come out. Rage exploded inside him. “What happened to Foster?”

“I don’t know. Walter went to find him but he and his wife had already left Clytheborough. Walter tried to track him down but the reports were that he’d left England.”

A gnawing started in the pit of his stomach and grew until it was a sharp pain.
Bloody hell!
She’d been raped when she was only thirteen.

“Because of her experience with Foster, she’s devoted her life to the children at the orphanage, partly to protect them so what happened to her doesn’t happen to any of them. But protecting them has allowed her to use them as a shield to hide behind.

“They consume every hour of her time, both day and night. But even more frightening, she’s convinced herself the children fill every emotional need and she doesn’t need anyone else.

“The children can only give her one kind of love,” she said, resolutely lifting her chin. “She needs to be shown what she’s missing and I intend to take her to London, not only to prove to the world that she’s as much a daughter to me as if I’d given birth to her, but to provide her the opportunity to find another kind of love.”

“You are hoping she meets someone and marries?” Ross didn’t know why, but the thought that she might made him uncomfortable.

“Perhaps. Perhaps she will gain nothing more from her experience in London than to feel young and beautiful and free for a little while. I only know if I don’t force her to go now, the easiest path will be for her to stay here forever. Then, one day she’ll wake up to find herself an old woman and it will be too late.”

Ross stood, then walked to the window. Something bothered him but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He turned around and saw her watching him closely. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I don’t want to see Josephine hurt.” She lifted her chin and looked at him with grim determination. “You, Lord Rainforth, have the potential to hurt her even more than Foster hurt her.”

“You think I am capable of—”

She held up her hand. “She’s been able to push what Foster did to her to that secret place each of us have deep within us where we can keep our most unpleasant memories under lock and key. The scars where he whipped her have healed now and are not so noticeable. But you have the power to inflict wounds that will never heal.”

The mantel clock slowly ticked away the seconds, seconds that gave Ross more time to evaluate Lady Clythebrook’s words.

“You are everything she fears. You’re titled. You’re a rake with a regrettable reputation. You had a child by your mistress whom you ignored until now. Everything about you is a mirror image of the man who fathered her then abandoned her. And, you’ve come with a scheme to take the power to provide for the children out of her hands. All she has to do is put her trust in you. Do you see how difficult this is for her? Everyone she has ever trusted has nearly destroyed her. Even Walter and I failed her.”

Lady Clythebrook picked up her cup and saucer again and ran one thin finger around the rim. She stopped and lifted her gaze. “I will not allow her to be hurt.”

“If you’re so certain keeping company with me will cause her some harm, why did you stipulate that we spend two days a week together.”

“For Josephine’s sake, I had to. I see how she looks at you. I see how you look at her. The air nearly ignites when the two of you are together. Whether or not you’re aware of the effect you have on each other is irrelevant. Josephine recognizes it. You’ve given her a glimpse of something she’s pretended all these years not to want or need. She’s restless with feelings she can’t explain and desperate to replace what Foster did to her with memories she can cherish. I had hoped that putting the two of you together would help her decide what course of action she must take.

Ross felt the blood drain from his face. He knew what Josephine’s decision had been. He tried to remember the words she’d used.
I don’t want to be safe. I want to be loved. Just this once.
  Her goal had been to replace what Foster had done to her. And he’d given her another nightmare to lay alongside the one she’d lived with since she was thirteen years old.

Ross braced his hand against the window frame and remembered every one of his accusations. Why had he let his anger and disappointment show? Why had he thrown her past in her face as if it were a dirty piece of laundry?

He looked out the window again. He wanted her here. He wanted to hold her like he should have done last night, and comforted her. And given her something she could remember without regret. Instead, they’d parted with angry words and bitter accusations.

He looked up. She’d have to come across the meadow if she came from the orphanage. Ross swore, when she arrived, he’d take her someplace where they could be alone. Then, he’d apologize for his angry words and his harsh accusations. She deserved better.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and when he opened them he saw her.

“Here she is.” He watched her race through the tall grass, the blood rushing through his head as his heart thundered in his chest. He needed to make up for the way he’d treated her and tell her—

The euphoric emotions running through him faded when she came near enough to see her face. Something was wrong. The way she ran was not the carefree movement of a woman enjoying the freedom of the outdoors. There was a sense of urgency in her gait. As if she were running from something. In fear. Every muscle in his body stiffened in warning.

“If you will excuse me, Lady Clythebrook, I think I’ll go out to meet Miss Foley.”

He didn’t wait to hear Lady Clythebrook’s reply. Josephine was close enough now that he could see her more clearly. See the terror on her face and the torn sleeve of her gown.

Ross raced from the room, covering the space down the hallway in long, panic-filled strides. He reached the foyer just as she threw open the door and rushed inside. Eyes filled with terror lifted and she saw him. She stopped. Even though she held her hand over her mouth, a small cry escaped from deep inside her that tore at Ross’s insides.

Her hair was disheveled and her chest heaved as her breaths came in huge, ragged gasps she could hardly control. She blinked twice, then swiped at her tear-stained cheeks and bit down on her lower lip as if to keep it from trembling. It only made her efforts worse. Her wide eyes stared at him, the look of fear still evident in her gaze.

He slowly took a step toward her lest he frighten her more, then another. He didn’t stop until he was close enough to touch her.

He looked at her, determining what his action should be; whether to reach out to comfort her or give her time and space to be on her own.

He chose the former.

He placed one finger beneath her chin and lifted, taking in the red welt still raw on her cheek. “Are you all right?

She nodded.

There was no way to put the relief he felt into words. “Who did this to you?” he asked, quick boiling anger resurfacing inside him.

She shook her head.

“Who?”

“I…fell.”

The panicked look on her face stopped him from questioning her further. Now was not the time. He knew she’d run away from him if he continued his interrogation. So, in a slow, careful movement, he pushed the outer door closed with one hand and brought her up against him with the other. He wrapped his arms around her narrow shoulders and cradled her close. Her cheek lay against his chest, the top of her head nestled beneath his chin. Without prodding, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held onto him as if he were her safe harbor in a storm.

Her gown was torn at the shoulder and the mark across her cheek looked like it had been made by a hand. But otherwise she didn’t appear harmed. At least, not in any way that was visible.

They stood in each other’s embrace several long, silent moments, until her trembling calmed and her breathing slowed. When he was assured she had recovered, he placed his hands on her shoulders and held her in front of him far enough so he could look into her eyes. “Is this all he did to you?”

Her gaze hit the floor and she nodded.

“You’re sure?

She took a fortifying breath that shuddered when she released it. “Yes.”

He held her for a little while longer before she stepped away from him. His arms felt strangely empty with her gone. “Go upstairs and put some cold water on your face. You’ll feel better after you wash and change.”

He saw her worried glance move to the morning room where Lady Clythebrook waited for them. “I’ll tell Lady Clythebrook you tore your dress and need to change. I’ll wait for you here.”

“I can’t—”

“You’re sadly mistaken if you think I intend to overlook what just happened to you.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Enough happened. Now, go upstairs and change. I’ll tell Lady Clythebrook we’re going for a ride. Then I’ll wait for you.

“It was noth—”

“Go,” he ordered and watched her turn away from him and climb the stairs. He didn’t know who was responsible for the welt across her cheek and terror in her eyes. But when he found out, he vowed they’d pay dearly for what they’d done to her.

Josie paced her room, dreading having to go back downstairs to face him. She’d already sent a note asking him to leave. He’d sent an answer back in a heavy, bold script that reminded her of the expression on his face. He gave her fifteen minutes or he was coming up to get her. She had less than five minutes before her time was up.

She’d known facing him would be difficult enough after the night they’d spent together, but what happened today only made it worse. If she told him Baron Lindville was responsible for her reddened cheek, he’d want to know why. How could she tell him she’d refused to be a part of the smuggling ring any longer and Lindville wouldn’t take no for an answer?

And he’d never believe that she didn’t know they were smuggling in opium. What sane person would believe she’d been a major player in the smuggling operation all this time and didn’t know what was being brought in? No, he could never find out she’d been involved. Did she honestly think he’d save her from being hanged just because they’d been lovers?

Did she think he wouldn’t accuse her of sleeping with him to protect herself in case he found out?

Josie clasped her hands to her cheeks and felt the burning heat seep into her palms. Oh, why had she taken him to Granny’s cottage and given herself to him? She’d told herself it had been because she’d wanted him to erase the memories of the night she’d been raped. But that wasn’t the reason. She’d slept with him because she’d fallen in love with him.

She wanted to laugh. How had this happened? She’d been so sure she’d never fall in love. But without knowing when or why, it had. She’d fallen into the trap that had destroyed her mother.

Her heart ached inside her chest. Oh, if she’d had to fall in love, why, oh, why, did it have to be him? He was everything she could never trust.

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She was such a fool. She thought that giving herself to him once would be enough to last her a lifetime? But it wouldn’t. Loving him once only made her want him again. Even today, she’d never been so glad to see anyone in her whole life as she’d been to see him when she raced through the front door. When he took that first step toward her and opened his arms, she couldn’t rush into his embrace fast enough. And when he wrapped his arms around her, she suddenly felt safe. As if this was where she belonged.

Josie took the bonnet she’d laid out on the corner of her bed and walked to the mirror on her dressing table. The red mark was nearly gone now. She was glad. At least it wouldn’t be there to infuriate him further. She reached for a pair of gloves that matched the light blue gown she’d changed into and left her room.

The gown was one of her better dresses and Lady Clythebrook had always told her the color brought out the blue of her eyes. Josie hoped she was right. She would need every advantage today.

She took three steps down the long staircase and stopped. He was waiting for her at the bottom, his thick brows drawn close in the center. His lips, which usually bore a resemblance to a smile in the process of widening, were clamped tight. Even from the middle of the staircase, she noticed the knotted muscle at the base of his jaw that worked in frustration. He was angry. His eyes told her he was. His rigid demeanor re-emphasized it. And his wide stance and the knotted fists at his side left no room for doubt.

Josie lifted her chin and readied herself to face him. “Lord Rainforth.” She took the final steps with a graceful ease she far from felt. “I must insist we postpone our meeting today. My regrettable behavior earlier was an overreaction to a minor incident. It was nothing you need to concern yourself—”

Josie’s sentence went unfinished when Rainforth snatched her cloak out of Banks’s hands and draped it around her shoulders. Without a by-your-leave, he placed a firm hand beneath her elbow and led her to the door.

“I must insist—”

“Save your breath, Josephine. It won’t do you any good.”

He ushered her out the door and to his waiting carriage. There was no groomsman to open the door or assist her inside, so he helped her himself.

He jumped in beside her and with an angry snap of the reins, the horses lurched forward. The feel of his taut, muscular frame jostling against her burned through each layer of her skirts to her flesh beneath, and she realized this would be one of the longest rides she’d ever taken.

She kept her eyes focused on the passing scenery, but concentrated her gaze more to the right where she didn’t have to look at him. Not that he was looking at her. He was too angry. His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead of him.

The horses moved at a faster pace than she was used to traveling on these roads. The steady clopping would turn into an all-out gallop if he snapped the reins once more and gave the two bays their heads. She knew he was itching to do just that—release his frustration by racing through the countryside with the wind slapping him in the face. But he didn’t. He kept the horses under the same tight rein as he kept any effort at conversation.

His silence unnerved her. She gripped her fingers around the edge of the soft leather seat, vowing to allow him thirty more seconds of brooding silence before forcing the issue.

Her resolve didn’t last that long.

“You might as well begin your interrogation,” she said, noticing that they’d neared the meadow close to Granny’s cottage. “That’s the reason for this ride and we both know it.”

“Do you intend to answer my questions if I ask them?”

“No.”

“Then, pray tell, woman, why on earth should I ask them?”

“Because if you don’t, you’re going to erupt.”

He pulled the horses to a stop so sudden that it threw her forward. His arm shot out to protect her and she grabbed onto him.

“Who struck you?”

She loosened her grip and pulled back. “I fell.”

“Don’t do this, Josie. Was it Lindville?”

“Lindville? Why would you think—” She tried to force a smile. “Oh, the flowers. You think we had another lover’s quarrel and—”

“He’s not your lover. You don’t have a lover. That’s what you used me for.”

The air left her body. For a long moment, no words would come. “I didn’t use you. That isn’t what…”

She couldn’t let him think that. She couldn’t let him cheapen what they’d shared by thinking she’d used him to make love to her.

“Then why?”

They were just two small words, but he’d said them in such a way he’d made their meaning monumental. She started to answer, then closed her mouth. A gentle breeze whipped the ribbons of her bonnet around her face but she didn’t move to hold them down. Nor did she make an attempt to answer his question.

“Why me? I know I wasn’t the first man to have you, but I would wager St. Stephen’s and the land where I intend to put the cattle that I was the second.”

She looked down at his hands gripped tightly around the reins. Those were the hands that had held her and touched her and made all the ugly, painful abuses she’d suffered from another man’s hands vanish.

She slowly lifted her gaze to his face. She wanted to reach out and erase the deep furrows across his forehead. She wanted to whisper gentle shushing sounds to ease his anger and ask him,
who else but you?
There would never be anyone else.

“Would you at least tell me why?”

She swallowed hard, then lifted her chin and took the biggest chance of her life. She offered him an explanation that exposed every weakness she possessed. “Because I knew I could trust you. I knew you would never hurt me.”

He sucked in a breath so harsh it was as if she’d struck him.

She knew she owed him an explanation but it was so hard to say the words. She’d never said them to anyone. Not even to Lady Clythebrook.

“You’re right. You weren’t the first. The man who took my virginity, took it by force.” She paused. “I never thought I’d ever want to give myself to anyone again. Then you came.”

Josie dropped back against the cushion and clasped her hands in her lap. “If only Lady Clythebrook hadn’t stipulated the time we had to spend together. If only I could have battled you on even terms.”

“What terms would those have been?”

“The children. The orphanage.” She turned toward him. “Charlie. It was easy to keep you at arm’s length as long as I felt I needed to protect Charlie from you. If only you would have remained the villain.”

But I fell in love with you and everything changed.

Josie lifted her gaze and followed a small wren that flew past her and darted to a small copse of trees where it sat on one of the branches. “Everyone knew Carrie Gardner had been your mistress. When Charlie was born a few months after she’d arrived, we knew he was yours. Which made you exactly like the man who’d gotten my mother with child then abandoned her.” She pulled at a string on her worn cloak. “Until I discovered you never knew about Charlie. And that you wanted to be a father to him.”

She followed the wren as it flew from the trees to the roof of Granny’s cottage, then she turned and looked into his eyes. A hooded expression masked whatever he might be thinking.

“And still you tried to keep Charlie from me.”

She nodded. “You were everything I feared. Even your reputation warned me against you.”

“But he was my son.”

She paused as she looked deeper into his eyes. “I couldn’t let that matter. I’m all they have. If I fail them, they have no one else. Can you understand that?”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head as if he understood something that had been a mystery before. “Yes, I can. When did you change your mind about me?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps the first time I saw you with Charlie. Perhaps even before that. When I introduced you to the children and realized you didn’t treat them like I expected you to. Perhaps at Lady Clythebrook’s dinner when you looked into Squire Pearson’s eyes and told him how sorry you were his nephew had died in the war. And you meant it.”

“That’s what made you decide that I would be the one you gave yourself to?”

Josie turned her head away from his penetrating gaze. “No. That just happened.”

“Was there any emotion involved in what you did?”

She turned back. “Emotion? Such as what? Affection? Of course.”

She forced herself not to lower her gaze. “But don’t expect me to say I love you. I learned very little at my mother’s knee, but I did learn one very important lesson. Loving a member of the nobility leads to nothing but disaster and heartache.”

“I see,” he said, sitting taller in the seat. “Never love.”

She saw the stunned expression on his face and knew admitting that she cared for him would be the biggest mistake of her life. “Don’t tell me that’s what you expected from me? Have all the women you’ve met been so enamored of you that they fall at your feet in blind adoration?”

“No, not all. Not even some of those who shared my bed professed to love me. But I always thought I knew the difference.”

Josie watched him lean toward her. Her heart thundered in her ears. She knew he intended to kiss her. He cupped his hand to her cheek and brought his mouth down on hers.

Josie knew it would do no good to deny him. This was a test to which he needed an answer. He wanted to prove to her that what they’d shared had meant more than she would admit. He wanted to prove that what they’d shared had been far more than affection. But she already knew it had.

She just couldn’t allow him to know it.

She remained limp beneath his grasp, her hands lifeless in her lap and her lips unmoving beneath his. Surely he would give up soon and release her? Surely if she didn’t participate she would convince him his kisses meant nothing to her? But he didn’t give up.

His fingers loosened the ribbons that tied her bonnet, then pulled it from her head and dropped it to the carriage floor. When his hand was empty, he skimmed his palm up her arm and over her shoulder, then wrapped his long, capable fingers around her nape and pulled her closer. For a few long, agonizing seconds she held her resolve, even when he held her head so close to him she shared her breaths with him. Her head spun, her heart thundered in her breast. Then it was too late.

He deepened his kiss as if he were starving for the taste of her. His lips moved over hers while his hands caressed her with unbelievable tenderness. And she was lost to him. When his mouth opened atop hers, she followed his lead and accepted his intrusion.

His tongue met hers, touching, then mating in a ritual that sent rational thought spiraling into the wind. Common sense no longer existed within her, only a need that was desperate to be assuaged. Only the pulsing, aching desires he’d awakened the night she’d given herself to him.

His hand covered her breast and she arched into him. He was dangerously close to her and every promise she’d made to remain immune to his touch was suddenly null and void. His other hand held her closer still while he assaulted her with one mind-altering kiss after another.

If making love with him had been the biggest mistake of her life, then giving him her heart had been far worse. But it was too late to change the course she’d taken. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. When she skimmed her fingers over his shoulders, the muscles across his back rippled beneath her fingers and with a moan that matched hers he deepened his kisses.