Price of Desire (4 page)

Even a year ago when she’d seen
him
, seen Wulf, in those dreadful days after John’s death, when he returned to torment her at John’s funeral, her memories had not plagued her like this, wrapping themselves around her with their siren call
.
Fate had been cruel placing him before her in the moment of her darkest grief, opening her to the unforgiving words he’d flung at her so carelessly
.
She could still hear his cold condemnation echoing through her mind.

Her chest heavy and her eyes pricking with sudden unwelcome emotion, Rose reached for the basin and splashed tepid water in an attempt to push away unwelcome thoughts.

Chewing on her trembling lower lip, Rose settled back and closed her eyes, just for a moment
.
Soon she’d summon someone to unlace her, and then settle in for the night
.
Tomorrow would be a busy day
.
Yes, she’d close them just for a moment.

A thunderous pounding on the door below dragged Rose from her restless slumber
.
She rubbed the cobwebs and gravel from her eyes, trying to remember where she had left off
.
She’d slept on the settee, without bothering to change or snuff the candles
.
Judging by how far they’d burned, it must have been hours since she first fell asleep
.

Why hadn’t
her maid awakened her
?
Oh, yes –
the cough and cold.

She ran rapid fingers through her hair, smoothing it as best she could, and shook out her skirts before heading down to see what the ruckus was
.

Who would be arriving at this time of night
?
Nobody was expected before tomorrow afternoon, and surely it was too late for any respectable travel?

Sudden concern agitated her
.
Could it be an emergency
?
With that thought foremost in her mind, Rose rushed into the upper hall and toward
s
the stair
s
.
The heavy front door groaned open as she approached the top
.
She hurried down, tripping over her skirts, as she realized she was still unshod.

“May I tell Lady Burberry who is calling?
”
Matson’s practiced tone resonated up the stair.

Rose didn’t hear the reply as a great bear of a man stalked through the door and shook
dust of his coat
, his heavily muscled shoulders rippling beneath his shirt
.
His presence filled the hall.

No.

She must still be asleep
.
Surely, her unwanted thoughts could not have summoned him
.
She closed her eyes, then opened them again.

Damnation.

He had no right to be here
.
After the things he had said, he would never dare show his face, not here, in her home.

Mocking green eyes turned upwards and pinned her to the stair.

“I don’t think it will be necessary to inform her of my identity
.
She knows very well who I am.
”

Chapter Two

Loose golden hair shimmered about her, working loose from its pins
.
Wulf remembered the feel of that hair, smoother, sleeker than any he’d known, twisting about him with a life of its own, creating a private world just for their dreams.

Dreams that were long dead.

He studied her as she drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin, staring into the space above his head
.
She started down the stairs.

“Waiting up for me, my lady?
”
His voice was flat and cold
.
Not even the most wondrous of recollections could warm what had happened since.

“How could I wait up for you when I was not expecting you, Captain Huntington
?
Do you have some business here
?
I can’t imagine why you would seek me out, and certainly not at this hour.”

He’d have known those low, ladylike tones even if he’d been blinded
.
They twined about him as insidiously as her hair had
once
done
.
He should never have come.

“It’s Major Huntington, now.
”
He kept his answer short
.
“The carriage lost a wheel, or I’d have arrived late afternoon, as expected.”

“Expected
?
Not by me, I assure you
.
I believe we said all there was to say at my husband’s funeral.
”
Her tone was so careful he doubted there was a single inflection
.
She’d approached the bottom of the stair and stood fix
ed, as if refusing to take the
last steps that would place her below his height
.
Her glance remained fastened on some invisible spot above his head
.
Only by the slightest tremor of her lip did she betray her nerves
.

He stepped forward, onto the bottom stair, towering above her, ignoring the all too familiar honey scent that wafted from her hair
.
Unwillingly
,
his glance settled on that full lip.

“Really . . .
”
Wulf let the word hang
.
“I can think of so much more to say
.
I do believe there were questions left unanswered
.
I was sure you were awaiting my arrival with the utmost anxiety.”

“
I have no cause for anxiety.
”
Her gaze finally dropped to meet his
.
“Further, I do not believe you have any power to put me in that state.
”

“Ah, my dear Lady Burberry, if memory holds, I am very capable of putting you in any state I choose
.
And I do fear my presence gives cause for anxiety
.
There is still much unsettled between us.”

“Major Huntington, I cannot imagine to what you refer
.
I told you at Burberry’s funeral that we had no business between us.
”
Her chest expanded as she drew in a solitary, deep breath
.
He could feel her hold it as she wrapped herself in hauteur like
a queen
in coronation robes
.
She glanced sideways at the butler and the waiting footman, and settled herself
with royal dignity
.
“Now, will you state your reason for being here
?
I am disinclined to imagine that you have awakened my household for little cause.”

Not a queen, but an empress
.
How could he ever have believed she was a servant or the daughter of a vicar
?
She was magnificent
.
And deceitful
.
He must remember that
.
If only he could remember it in his fantasies
.
Despite the hard lessons life had taught him, she still called to him in his dreams – or nightmares
.
No, he knew what real nightmares were, and not even this harpy could approach that
.

He turned and walked from her, glanced at candles, fresh lit at his arrival, and turned back
.
“No business between us
?
I believe you actually ordered me to go find another battle to fight
.
And I did, if you have not heard.
”
His shoulders stretched taunt, pulled back to full attention
.
Waterloo
.
That was what nightmares were made of
–
not flighty ladies.

The first touch of consternation, or perhaps remorse, flashed in her eyes, but she buried it quickly and this time she turned away, an ice queen
.
The witch had told him to find another battle and he had
.
He’d returned to the army, to the muds of Belgium, and she’d not a word to say
.

“I cannot imagine why you express such confusion at my arrival,” he began again
.
“I would have thought the matter clear, even if little to my liking or yours.
”
Speaking to her, he called upon that long-ignored heir to an earldom he’d once been, for the field soldier of the last half dozen years would have had no power here
.
He stepped forward, following her retreat.

The footman and the butler were shooting looks between them.

“I do not know what you mean
.
Surely, sir, you do not believe you were expected here
?
I know well the list of my invited guests.”

“Guests
?
No, not quite a guest, but still I believe expected, nonetheless.
”
For the second time he allowed his eyes to linger over her, noting the dishevelment of her bodice and the flush of her skin, that endlessly inviting lip
.
Perhaps he had awakened her
.
He should clear up the situation, but it was too . . . delicious, holding her off balance, too
much like . .
.
No
.
He had not come here for games.

“The hour is too late for this wordplay
.
Come to the point, or I’ll bed you down in the stables with the grooms.
”
Her face flushed
with chagrin the moment she spa
t the words
.
Her pretense of disaffection was wearing thin.

The butler stiffened, and Wulf watched as she forced the corners of her lips to curl up
.
He painted on his own smile as he replied.

“Surely, you can find a better place to bed me down than that?
”
He lowered his voice to a near whisper
.
“Although, if I remember, you once remarked on the great comfort of fresh hay.
”

A cough from her sharp-eared butler drew his attention and he turned, but not before noting the even deeper flush that colored her face.

“Sir, your coachman has arrived from the stable after seeing to your trunks
.
The other gentleman, a Mr. Mitter, I believe, wishes to know where he should put his papers
.
He is most anxious to retire.”

How the bloody hell did the butler know all that
?
Wulf would have sworn he had not moved from the front door in the time he’d been dueling with Rose
–
Lady Burberry.

Giving no indication of surprise at the butler’s knowledge, Lady Burberry
–
he must think of her that way
–
pursed her lips in consideration.

“It is too late to send them back to the inn
.
You may place Mr. Mitter in the Lavender Room, Matson
.
It is rather feminine for a gentleman’s taste, but there is no helping it
.
Every other room will be occupied on the morrow.”

Lady Burberry turned back to him with the sweetest of smiles
.
“As for Major Huntington, who still has not explained why he is here, he was just expressing a fondness for straw
.
I do believe the stable is actually full, but perhaps the paddock barn?”

Matson coughed again, with clear disgruntlement
.
No proper butler would ever dream of removing a gentleman to a barn.

Lady Burberry opened her eyes wide and looked at the butler with bold bewilderment, a very different act from her usual self-assuredness
.
“Major
Huntington knows I but jest, yet
truly, where else can we put him
?
I know that every other room is spoken for, and we can’t have our
invited
guests wait to settle upon their arrival.”

Matson shifted from one foot to the other before speaking
.
“Forgive me, my lady, but I do believe there is one set of chambers still unoccupied.”

This time her bewilderment seemed genuine
.
She looked at Matson, the question clear in her eyes.