Simply Forbidden (15 page)

“I will not ruin him.”

William visibly exhaled. “Thank you. Then I will do everything in my power to persuade him to hand over the books.”

Gabriel sat back and studied his cousin. “Why the sudden change of heart, William?”

His cousin stood up and bowed stiffly. “Because the estate
needs someone to run it, and if my father is no longer capable, then it will have to be you.”

“It still galls you that I succeeded to the title, doesn’t it?”

“Of course it does, but not perhaps for the reasons you might believe. I was raised to run a large estate and trained to think of myself as the caretaker for future generations. It
galls
me to see the estate go to ruin under bad or indifferent management.” He glared at Gabriel. “If you do take the reins, cousin, I will expect you to fulfill your obligations to the people who depend on you.”

Gabriel looked up at his cousin’s obstinate face. For once, he actually believed William meant every word. He could even understand his passion for the land and his heritage. Guilt eased into his gut and he tried to fight it off.

“When I’m in control, I will endeavor to be a good manager of the estate.”

“You will visit there regularly?”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “I’ll do what I have to. You have my word on it.” William stuck out his hand and Gabriel shook it. “Get me the financial records for the estate and at least I’ll know where I stand.”

“Thank you.”

William headed for the door and Gabriel stood up. “No, thank you, for being brave enough to bring this matter to my attention and for your willingness to do what’s right for the people on the estate who have no voice.”

William shrugged, his color heightened. “Don’t make me out to be some kind of hero, Gabriel. I still don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual. I might be away for the next week or two, so if you have anything new to tell me, please communicate through Mr. Brecon.”

“Of course, cousin.” William saluted and then was gone, his booted feet clomping down the narrow wooden staircase.

Gabriel smiled at Mr. Brecon. “Let’s hope that Captain Granger will be able to assist us.”

“Let’s hope so indeed, sir.” Mr. Brecon positively beamed with good cheer. “Now, is there anything else we need to discuss?”

Gabriel nodded. “I’m planning on getting married, so I need to revise my will and any other documents you see fit.”

“Married, sir? You? May I be the first to offer you my congratulations?”

“Indeed.” Gabriel nodded. “It is obviously a day for surprises. If there are any messages for me in the next week, please leave them with Mr. Keyes at my lodgings.”

“Yes, sir. And will you be reopening Swanfield House for your lady wife?”

Gabriel picked up his hat and gloves. “I hadn’t thought about it. I’ll let you know on my return.”

“Excellent, sir. I’ll look out the spare keys for the property and make a list of the new staff you will require.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said and turned to leave. Thoughts about the estate and the reluctant truce between him and William filled his mind. To finally control his heritage was something he’d dreamed about for years. After his return from Spain, he’d allowed ill health and his reluctance to provoke further scandal to scupper his attempts to establish himself. The Grangers believed him to be weak and unstable, but devil take it, William was right, the estate was in his trust. He finally had the power to rewrite the past….

Gabriel put on his hat and contemplated the leaden skies. He could only hope that the luck from his first meeting would carry him throughout the day. He had a suspicion that his next encounter might be a lot more difficult. With sudden resolve, he turned his horse back toward Mayfair.

By the time he reached the discreet mews at the back of the house, it had started to rain steadily. He handed his horse over
to a groom and took stock of his bearings. If he remembered correctly, the kitchens and basement that connected the two buildings were accessed from behind the mews. Without waiting for direction, Gabriel headed toward the servants’ door, moving through a cluttered passageway and into the warm, scented kitchen. He halted at the entranceway until a large woman he assumed was the cook questioned him in French.

As he started to reply, another voice cut him off. He turned to see a tall, fair-haired man regarding him coldly.

“Lord Swanfield, I presume.”

“Indeed.” Gabriel inclined his head a deliberate inch. “And who are you?”

“I’m Christian Delornay-Ross. Although I don’t use the Ross surname.” A flicker of amusement crossed the other man’s face. “Don’t you remember the people you’ve had sex with here?”

Gabriel managed to hold onto his temper. “I would certainly remember you.”

“And you don’t, which is all well and good, seeing as you are currently involved with my twin.” Delornay came closer, his expression still far from friendly. “Did you come here today to relieve your frustration because my sister is proving difficult?”

Gabriel set his jaw. “I came to see Madame Delornay.”

“She isn’t here.” Delornay closed the gap between them and studied Gabriel. “But I’m glad you’re here. I thought I was going to have to come to your lodgings.”

“You wished to speak to me?”

Delornay’s smile was not meant to reassure. “Didn’t I just mention that you are in a relationship with my twin? Don’t you think I take an interest in the men she sleeps with?”

“I’m not going to abandon her like that other bastard did, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good, because I’d hate to have to take another man out and beat him senseless.”

Gabriel smiled slowly. “I doubt you’d beat me.” Hazel eyes that reminded Gabriel of Lisette met and clashed with his. Christian smiled back. “That, my lord, remains to be seen. Now, if there is something you wished to say to my mother, perhaps you’ll consider unburdening yourself to me instead.”

L
isette tied the blue ribbons of her new lutestring bonnet and studied her reflection critically in the mirror. She looked far too pale for her liking, so she pinched her cheeks and added some rose lip paint her mother had given her. She heaved a sigh and buttoned herself into the matching lutestring pelisse.

The weather looked as changeable as her mood, but she decided that the invitation for a walk in the park with an intimate friend of Lord Swanfield was definitely worth the chance of a soaking. It had been two days since she had last seen or heard from him, and his silence was becoming ominous. She gathered up her reticule and gloves and made her way downstairs. Her father was stationed in the hall as if waiting for her to descend.

“Ah, there you are, my dear. Are you going out?”

“Lieutenant St. Clare asked me to go for a walk in the park with him and his cousin, Lucinda, the young lady we met at the ball. I thought I might ask her to visit us when Emily is in residence.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” Philip smiled and kissed her cheek, kissed her again and patted her shoulder.

“I was just trying to help, Papa.” Lisette eyed him uncertainly. “It’s not as if she’s the heir to the throne or anything.”

Philip’s smile was warm. “Just enjoy your walk, my dear, and give Lieutenant St. Clare my best.”

“I will.” Lisette headed for the front door just as the butler opened it to reveal a smiling Lieutenant St. Clare. “Good-bye, Papa.”

“And good morning, Miss Ross.” The lieutenant swept her a low bow and stepped aside to reveal his smaller companion. “Miss Ross, may I present my cousin, Lady Lucinda Haymore?”

Lisette held out her hand. “It is a pleasure to see you again, my lady.”

“Oh please, call me Lucinda, everyone does.” Lady Lu-cinda’s smile was warm and a little shy. “Well, apart from Paul, who calls me ‘Lucky.’”

Lieutenant St. Clare offered them both an arm and headed down the steps toward the flagstone pavement. “I promise I won’t call you that during your grand Season.”

“Thank you, I think.” The bashful glance Lady Lucinda shot at the lieutenant was full of awe. “It would be nice if it remained just between ourselves.”

Lisette wondered if Paul St. Clare knew that his cousin was a little in love with him. Was he the sort of man who would marry simply to avoid any scandal about his sexual preferences—or would he be brave and stay a bachelor? Lisette sensed that he wouldn’t want to hurt his cousin, who obviously held him in high affection.

Wind gusted around the corner and Lisette let go of Lieutenant St. Clare’s arm to grab at the brim of her bonnet. It wasn’t raining, but the sky was turning an unpleasant pewter gray, which threatened to obscure even the meager sunlight. They turned onto the main thoroughfare, and Lisette saw the green shimmer of the park up ahead.

A carriage and four horses rumbled slowly up the street behind
them and Lieutenant St. Clare glanced back and maneuvered his cousin away from the curb. Lisette moved away by herself and was surprised when the lieutenant took her arm in a firm grip.

For a moment he stared down at her. “I’m sorry, Miss Ross.”

Before she could answer him, he picked her up. As she started to struggle, the carriage door flew open and a pair of gloved hands reached out and took her weight, bringing her inside the carriage. The door shut again and she tried to straighten, only to be brought back down to the floor and have a thick shawl thrown over her head. While she struggled to free herself, the carriage picked up speed and headed back down toward the river.

A heavy weight settled on her back, effectively pinning her to the floor. Was that his boot? Lisette set her teeth and counted the minutes until he would have to set her free. Her fingernails curled into her palms until they hurt, but not as much as they would hurt him when she launched herself at his face.

Time moved on, and she focused on steadying her breath and easing her position to avoid cramping her muscles. Eventually the carriage slowed, and she was lifted up and set on the seat. As soon as the shawl was plucked from her head, she went for him, claws at the ready, anger and fright bonded together into a rage she had never experienced before.

“
Salaud
! You
charogne
…”

Lord Swanfield fended her off far too easily and held her trapped in his grasp. She gave up trying to scratch out his eyes and tried to bite and kick instead. When her booted foot connected with his shin and he hissed out a curse, she felt a surge of pure joy.

“Lisette, stop it.”

“Why should I? You worm, you despicable rake, you …”

“I am all those things.” He agreed far too easily and yet he wasn’t laughing at her. “I am behaving appallingly.”

“Then take me home!” She wrenched herself free of his grasp and sat back with a thump on the seat opposite him, her breathing harsh and her mind in turmoil. How dare he snatch her from the street in broad daylight? And how quickly would someone raise the alarm and come and rescue her?

She raised her chin. “Where are we going?”

“To Scotland.” His gaze was steady, his hands linked together between his thighs. “We can marry there.”

“I am not going to marry you.”

He shrugged. But before she could say another word, he held up his hand. “Please, I’d rather wait until we stop for the night to have this out properly, wouldn’t you?”

She glared at him as he sat back and appeared to relax in his corner. The carriage was moving swiftly now, so she guessed they were on the main North Road. There would be little chance of escaping while they were traveling—or even when they were stopped. She recalled with dismay that Lord Swan-field moved rather fast for such a tall, indolent man.

With a sigh, she took off her mangled bonnet, angled her body into the corner of the seat, and glared at him. He appeared to be going to sleep, but she sensed it wouldn’t take much to wake him. She would spend the rest of their journey together imagining every horrible way she might torture him and had hoped he could see it in her eyes.

She awoke with a start to find herself being carried into an inn, her head again swathed in the black shawl, the rest of her held firmly in Lord Swanfield’s arms. She heard jovial voices and learned that they had been expected and that their rooms were ready. She clutched at Lord Swanfield’s shoulder as he adjusted his grip and started climbing the stairs. The landlord went ahead of him, sharing details of the dinner he would bring up and his hopes for the lady’s swift recovery.

“Thank you, Hodges, my wife suffers from carriage sickness. She will be perfectly fine after a bite to eat.”

“Thank you, my lord. Your dinner will be up shortly.”

The door shut behind the landlord and the black shawl was eased away from Lisette’s face. She allowed her head to fall onto Lord Swanfield’s shoulder and cuddled close.

“Ah, Lisette,” he murmured. “That’s better.”

She bit down hard on his earlobe and he dropped her so fast that she bounced on the bed before he came down over her, his expression extremely unfriendly.

“That hurt.”

“It was supposed to. Now let me up.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I will. You’re just going to go for me again.”

“So? What did you expect? A kiss?”

“Why not?” He fitted his mouth over hers and she nipped at his lip. He drew back and glared down at her. “If you want to sit up and eat your dinner like a civilized person, you have to promise not to hurt me anymore.”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“Then I’ll tie you to the bed, draw the covers over you, and feed you myself!”

She stared at him for a long moment. If he was willing to talk to her, there was still a chance she could make him change his mind. She wasn’t above using some female tricks of her own to get what she wanted.

“All right. Let’s call a truce until after we’ve eaten.”

He let out his breath and climbed off her, allowing her to sit up. Her hands went to her hair. “How am I supposed to make myself look civilized when you have treated me like a sack of potatoes?”

He indicated a small dressing table in the corner of the room and a discreet screen. “There are brushes on the table and warm water in the jug, as well as the necessary. Please help yourself.”

“While you watch?”

A smile flickered on his face. “As long as you don’t try and
jump out of the window, I’m not going to stand over you while you relieve yourself, if that is what you mean.”

She shuffled off the bed. Her left knee was aching badly and she stumbled. He caught her in an instant.

“What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip. “When you flung me onto the floor of the carriage I banged my knee. I’m sure it will be fine shortly.”

“Let me see.”

He sat down on the bed, put her on his lap, and pulled up her skirts and petticoats. Lisette tried to slap his hand away as it closed over her ruined stocking and pulled that down, too. “Lord Swanfield!”

He ignored her, his fingers gentle as he discovered the rapidly blackening bruise on her knee. He bent his head and kissed it. “God, I’m sorry, Lisette. I never meant to hurt you.”

She shoved at his shoulder and slid out of his lap. “Then you shouldn’t have abducted me, should you?”

He stayed on the bed as she hobbled over toward the dressing table. With another forbidding glance over her shoulder, she went behind the screen to do what was necessary and then returned to wash her hands and face and contemplate the ruin of her hairstyle in the faded, rust-spotted mirror.

With a sigh, she started unpinning her hair and then set about brushing it using the silver-backed brush and comb set out on the dressing table. Her head was aching, so rather than attempt an elaborate style without the aid of her maid, she twisted her hair back into a simple knot at the back of her neck and pinned it deftly into place.

By the time she finished, there was the distinct sound of activity in the hallway and the aroma of cooked food wafted under the door. Lisette realized she had no idea what time it was, only that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast time and it was now dark outside. A knock on the door signaled the arrival of
dinner and Lisette waited as two maids brought in the food and laid it out on the small table beside the fire.

“We’ll bring up some tea in a while, my lady,” the younger of the two women said shyly.

Lisette smiled. “Thank you, I would appreciate that, and also anything you might have to ease my headache.”

Lord Swanfield frowned. “You are still unwell?”

Lisette ignored him and concentrated her attention on the serving maids, who were whispering together.

“Mrs. Hodges has a tisane she brews herself, my lady. Would you like to try that?”

“Yes, please, but there is no hurry, bring it up with the tea.”

“Yes, my lady.” The maids curtsied and left them alone.

Lord Swanfield stood up and bowed. “My lady?” He held out a chair for her.

“I am not your lady.”

He sighed and took his seat. “I thought we weren’t going to fight until after we’d eaten.”

“No, I said I wouldn’t
injure
you. Verbal sparring is perfectly acceptable.”

“May I serve you some beef?”

“No, thank you.”

He applied himself to the meal, heaping his own plate with the pigeon pie, cold beef, and roasted potatoes. Without comment, he poured two glasses of the red wine and slid one across to Lisette. She was too hungry to object and settled to eating without complaint, finishing her meal with some stewed apples and clotted cream.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of one of the serving maids with coffee, a pot of tea, and another mug containing a pale green herbal brew.

“Mrs. Hodges says drink it while it’s hot.”

“I will and please thank her for me,” Lisette replied. She
picked up the earthenware mug and inhaled the scent of chamo-mile and willow bark. She sipped cautiously at the brew, found it sweetened with honey, and took another swallow.

Lord Swanfield helped himself to coffee and then sat watching her as he drank it. Lisette closed her eyes and allowed the aroma of chamomile to soothe her disordered senses.

“Are you all right, Miss Ross?”

“For a man who has just brutally abducted me, you sound remarkably concerned.”

He sighed. “I never meant to hurt you. You must know that.”

She opened her eyes. “And my original answer still stands: then don’t kidnap me.”

He looked remarkably unrepentant. “But it was the only way I could have you.”

She put the mug down. “I already told you that if I am pregnant, I’ll let you know and we can take up our discussion again.”

“But what if you aren’t sure for four or five months? Some women aren’t. My mother was so ignorant she had no idea she was with child until the butler noticed the size of her belly.” He leaned forward and stared down at his linked fingers. “What if you are pregnant and we don’t marry until you are that far along? Everyone will know that our child was conceived out of wedlock.”

“So what?”

He reached for her hand and held it between his. “Lisette, we both know how it feels to be gossiped about. Would you really want to inflict that on our child?”

She thought back to the insults of the other children at the orphanage, the fights she and Christian had gotten into, the subtle dislike of the nuns and the snubs from the cream of English society … “But I might not be pregnant.”

“I know. It is a difficult decision, isn’t it?”

He sounded so reasonable and sympathetic she found herself
tempted to agree with him. And there was something to be said for a man who stood by his responsibilities….

But he
had
abducted her. She forced a sigh. “It is hard to be wanted for only one reason.”

“What do you mean?”

She pulled out of his grasp. “You only asked to marry me because you feared I carried your child.”

“Yes, but—”

“But
nothing
. My father was right. No woman wants to feel that she is merely a brood mare.”

“I don’t think of you in those terms, in fact—”

“And what happens when you have your heir? Will I be forced to give you a dozen other children as well?”