The Wolf's Promise (16 page)

She did not protest when Benoît picked her up in a swift, urgent movement and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, and sat beside her, his hand resting on her waist. Her heart beat a tattoo of excited anticipation and she looked up at him with open trust and love in her eyes.

His black hair glinted in the candlelight, and she could see his lean face was tense with desire as he leant towards her. She lifted her hand to touch his cheek, glorying in her freedom to reach out to him so spontaneously.

He turned his head, catching her fingers between his lips and biting them gently. Then he slid his hand up from her waist to cup her breast. Angelica caught her breath, her eyes locked with his. More than anything she longed to feel his touch against her naked skin, with no barriers between them.

The electric moment lengthened almost unbearably; and then Benoît bent to kiss the hollow between her breasts.

Angelica arched her back instinctively, lifting herself towards him, He slipped an arm beneath her shoulders—but
then he paused, his rough cheek resting gently against her soft flesh. She could feel his warm breath against her skin.

She put her hands behind his head, feeling the sticky salt in his hair, holding him against her. Her body was crying out with longing for him to continue his lovemaking. She had been swept along by the riptide of their passion, and she felt frustrated by his delay.

But then he drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and sat up.

‘You're a dangerous woman, my lady,' he said unsteadily, a glimmer of wry amusement in his dark eyes, and she realised that he had been fighting to regain control of his raging emotions.

‘I am?' she murmured, her eyes locked with his, a provocative smile teasing her lips as she stretched her neck and shoulders luxuriously.

She felt both disappointed, yet incredibly moved by his efforts to control his desire for her.

‘Like playing with fire,' Benoît almost groaned.

He reached out to stroke her cheek as if he couldn't help himself, but he didn't kiss her again. She could sense the fierce struggle he was having to contain his ardour, and she was amazed at how desperately she wanted to tell him that his restraint wasn't necessary. Only a deep-rooted shyness and some remaining shred of decorum prevented her.

He sighed, turning his head to brush the soft skin of her inner arm with his lips, sending rivulets of delight chasing through her veins.

‘I always thought I was a man governed by self-discipline and reason,' he said wonderingly, ‘but at this moment it would take very little to make me abandon both sense and duty. What have you done to me, my lady?'

‘I don't know.' Angelica smiled mistily, unbelievably happy at his admission. Surely it meant he would
not
leave her when he had rescued Harry. ‘What have
you
done to me, sir?'

‘Nothing,' Benoît said quietly. ‘I have never known such a passionate, high-couraged woman.'

He gripped her wrist gently for a moment, then he stood up, startling Angelica with the abruptness of his action.

‘I will speak to your father as soon as I have been to the Admiralty,' he said more briskly. ‘Don't worry, Angelica. I'm sure that when Lord Ellewood knows Harry is coming home, he'll feel more like his old self.'

‘I hope so.' A shadow crossed Angelica's face as she thought of her father. She sat up. ‘Benoît…?'

She felt confused. Not certain what was happening. One moment she was being carried along on the greatest surge of passion she had ever known—the next Benoît was calmly telling her he was going to visit her father. Was there a connection between those two things? Or…?

‘I must go,' he said softly. ‘Sleep well,
mon amour.
But make sure you put on the nightdress I obtained for you, and get
under
the covers before you do so. Otherwise you will be extremely cold when you wake up!'

‘Now you sound like my old nurse!' Angelica protested, her heart singing as she just realised he had called her his love.

Benoît laughed, sounding unbelievably lighthearted.

‘If I didn't have to go urgently to London, I might throw caution to the winds and demonstrate some of the essential ways in which I differ from your old nurse!' he retorted. ‘Good night, Angelica.'

He turned and went swiftly out of the room, leaving her alone in the glow of the firelight. She could hear the wind rattling at the shutters, and there was a cold draught blowing around her shoulders, but until that moment she hadn't noticed it. She turned her head to look around at the barely furnished room. It contained none of the luxuries she was used to, but it provided her with everything she needed—except Benoît.

T
he day was well advanced when Angelica woke up. For a few moments she felt bewildered by her strange surroundings, unsure of what had happened the night before. She was only aware of an unspecified glow of happiness. Then she remembered.

It was hard to believe that it wasn't just a dream. Had she really done all the things she remembered doing? Most importantly of all, was she right when she hoped and believed that she meant as much to Benoît as he meant to her? She replayed their final conversation in her mind, reassuring herself as she remembered the expression in his eyes, the loving touch of his hands and those last few words he'd uttered before he'd left:

‘Sleep well,
mon amour.
'

Benoît didn't say things he didn't mean. She smiled happily and pushed back the bedcovers, ready for the next part of the adventure.

The fire had long since gone out and the room was bitterly cold. She gasped, shivering convulsively, then winced as she sat up, because her muscles ached from her unaccustomed exertions of the previous night.

She climbed resolutely out of bed and washed as well as she could with the icy water in the jug on the wash-stand. Then she grimaced at her reflection in the tarnished mirror. She hadn't realised just how muddy and bedraggled she was until she saw herself.

Her hair was a tangled disaster, her stockings ruined, her petticoats damp and grubby, and the half-boots unwearable. The riding habit was in little better condition.

Benoît had spread it over the chair to dry, but it was still damp and unpleasant to touch. She beat out as much of the mud and sand as she could, but wearing it was an unenticing prospect. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice. She flinched as the clammy wool touched her skin, then buttoned it up decisively.

At last she sat down and contemplated the wreckage of her hair. There was a comb beside the water jug. She picked it up and tried to drag it through her knotty curls. After nearly half an hour she finally managed to reduce her hair to some kind of order, but her eyes were watering from the discomfort and her arms ached from holding them above her head so long.

She let her hands drop into her lap and wondered what she was going to do now. She'd retrieved a few hair pins, but it was a mystery to her how she was going to put her hair up and
make it stay up. She almost wished Martha was with her, but that was defeatist thinking. After all she'd accomplished the previous night, she wasn't about to let a little thing like doing her own hair stand in the way of her newfound independence.

She persevered until she'd achieved a result she wasn't entirely unsatisfied with, and then wondered what to do next. No one had come near her, and although she knew she wasn't supposed to draw attention to herself, she was very hungry. She was also concerned about Adam.

She got up and went to the door, listening to see if she could hear anything, then she opened it a crack. Voices floated up from the taproom downstairs, but the landing was empty. She slipped out of her room, down the corridor and into Adam's room like a wraith in her bare feet.

There were two men in the chamber and they both looked up sharply as the door opened. Adam was lying in the bed, his face pale and strained; Thomas the groom was sitting beside him on an upright wooden chair.

Thomas leapt to his feet as Angelica came in, then visibly relaxed as he saw who it was.

‘Good afternoon, my lady,' he said gruffly, not sounding particularly pleased to see her.

‘Hello, Thomas,' Angelica replied.

She had been momentarily startled to see the groom, but now she realised Benoît must have sent him to take care of Adam.

She walked over to the bed, her long skirts dragging across the floor.

‘How are you?' she asked Adam, studying him carefully and a little anxiously.

‘I'll do.' He smiled and held out his hand to her. ‘I'm sorry you had such an uncomfortable time of it last night, my lady.'

In the background, Thomas snorted disparagingly, and Angelica saw a small smile flicker in Adam's eyes as he returned her gaze. She turned to look at the groom.

‘That was a fine trick you played on me, your ladyship!' he said truculently, a scowl in his eyes. ‘And Martha! A tricksy, meddling, deceitful—!'

‘Oh, no!' Angelica protested instinctively.

‘I'm not normally one to speak out of place,' the groom continued, as if she hadn't spoken. ‘But I tell you to your face, my lady, I'll not be made a game of like this! Jaunting about the countryside as if you were in Hyde Park. And who do you think would have been blamed if anything had happened to you—that's what I'd like know!'

Angelica flushed guiltily.

‘I acted on the spur of the moment,' she said placatingly. ‘I'm sure no one would have blamed you, Thomas.'

‘Made a right fool of me, she did,' he grumbled, unappeased.

‘Oh, no! I'm sure she didn't mean you to feel like that!' Angelica protested, realising that Martha's diversionary tactics had seriously hurt Thomas's pride. ‘It was just…'

‘Blind loyalty to you!' Thomas said grimly.

Angelica bit her lip. She had no idea how Martha really felt about the groom, and she didn't think it would be
sensible to make false claims on her maid's behalf, but she did feel guilty about Thomas.

‘In a right stew, she was, when the horses came home without you,' he said, with grim pleasure. ‘Only way I managed to stop her following me today was to threaten to tie her up. And she still made me bring some things you might be needing!'

He gestured to a nondescript bag on the floor.

‘Poor Martha,' said Angelica guiltily. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to give everyone such a fright.'

She lifted her eyes and looked at the groom as she spoke. Her luminous blue eyes were clear and sincere as they met his.

He grunted wordlessly.

‘You'd best sit down,' he said grudgingly, offering her the chair. ‘Though this is no place for the likes of you, my lady.'

Angelica laughed.

‘I know you don't mean that!' she exclaimed. ‘You're probably thinking that it serves me right!'

The groom looked at her for a few seconds, then he smiled, very grudgingly.

‘When it's dark I can take you back to Holly House if you like,' he said. ‘We can go out the back way.'

‘What about Adam?' Angelica asked immediately, glancing at him in concern. ‘Surely Ben—Mr Faulkener—sent you to look after him?'

Adam pulled a face.

‘I can look after myself,' he said.

Angelica turned back to the groom, a question in her eyes.

‘There's a nasty wind blowing,' he said immediately. ‘I wouldn't want you to take sick on top of everything else, my lady. And Joe—that's the innkeeper—his wife died a while back. He hasn't time to keep coming up here.'

‘In that case, I'll certainly stay,' said Angelica firmly. She didn't really have any desire to leave. Benoît had told her to wait for him here and that's what she intended to do. ‘Only…' She glanced around, seeing the remains of some bread and cheese on a plate. ‘I
am
very hungry,' she added. ‘Do you suppose…?

‘Be my guest,' said Adam grandly. ‘I haven't much of an appetite at the moment, I'm afraid.'

‘I'll see what I can do,' said Thomas, and went quietly out of the room.

‘You don't need to stay,' said Adam, when he'd gone. ‘Thomas is just being overcautious. No one's going to bother me here. And even if they do,' he added carelessly, ‘there's nothing you can do to help.'

Angelica had been eating the bread and cheese as quickly as she respectably could, but at Adam's dismissive words she lifted her eyes and looked at him steadily over a distance of some six feet.

‘I hope I'd be of some use to you, sir,' she said coldly, a hint of unfamiliar imperiousness in her usually friendly voice. ‘I'm not accustomed to allowing anyone ride rough-shod over me—smugglers, magistrates,
or
French agents!'

She stared at him uncompromisingly. Her eyes were implacable blue sapphires, her back was straight and her car
riage regal. Her bare feet, dirty riding habit and untidy hair did nothing to diminish the force of her personality as she confronted him.

Adam drew in a deep breath.

‘My apologies, Lady Angelica,' he said after a moment. ‘I did not intend to offend you. I should have known better. Forgive me.' He held out his hand to her.

‘Of course.' She took it and shook it briefly. ‘I have a quick temper sometimes, particularly when I'm hungry,' she added ruefully. ‘I didn't mean to be so overbearing.'

‘You're a very unusual woman,' said Adam, looking up at her curiously. ‘Did you really follow Ben just because he was wearing a black cravat?'

‘Yes.' Angelica laughed a little self-consciously. ‘He said he was going to visit Sir William but I didn't believe him,' she explained. ‘I'd wondered earlier how he disguised his white cravat when he went out smuggling—seeing as how all his other clothes were black—so when I saw him on the stairs and he was wearing a
black
cravat…I acted without thinking.'

‘But it was a very acute deduction,' Adam observed, watching her shrewdly. ‘My lady, I salute you. Ben's finally met his match! The future will certainly hold some interesting developments, I think.'

He grinned at Angelica's discomfiture, then tensed and turned his head as the door opened, but it was only Thomas.

‘It's not what you're used to,' he said, putting a tray down on Angelica's lap, ‘but it's the best Joe could produce—and
I had to dodge my way up here, so no one saw me. I hope I haven't spilt any.'

‘It looks delicious,' said Angelica warmly. ‘Besides, I'm so hungry I could eat a hor…goat.' She changed her mind at the last minute as she remembered the groom's occupation. ‘Thank you, Thomas.'

She ate the simple meal with relish. She would have been happy to stay and chat to Adam when she'd finished it, but she could see that talking to her was a considerable effort for him so she left him with Thomas and went back to her own room.

In her absence someone, possibly Thomas, had made up the fire and lit some candles. She opened the bag Martha had sent and found her maid had packed a warm, practical walking dress and shoes. She put them on and immediately felt much more comfortable. There was something very disconcerting about walking around in bare feet.

She spread out the riding habit before the hearth, hoping it might dry by the following morning. She hated the thought of wearing it again, yet she also felt strangely sentimental about it. She would have to replace it for Mrs Faulkener.

As she smoothed out the creases she heard the crackle of paper and frowned in brief confusion. Then she remembered snatching up James Corbett's letter the previous morning. She took it out of the pocket and flattened it out. The letter was even more battered and stained now than it had been before. The ink had smudged and run in the damp, but it was still readable.

She put it on the mantelpiece then sat down on the bed, wondering what to do next. She could hardly go back to bed
so soon, and there was nothing else in the bare room to occupy her attention. She frowned irritably. After all the excitement of the past few days this enforced inactivity was almost unbearable.

There was a gentle tap on the door and she recognised Thomas's voice. She went over and opened it immediately.

‘Excuse me, your ladyship,' he said sheepishly, offering her a crumpled newspaper. ‘I thought you might like something to read. An inn's a tedious place if you're on your own and you've got no taste for drinking.'

Angelica's smile lit up her face.

‘Thank you!' she exclaimed gratefully. ‘Is Mr Kennett asleep?'

‘Yes, my lady.'

‘Would you like to come in?' she offered impulsively. ‘I'm sure you must be just as bored with this waiting as I am.'

‘Well…' He hesitated, then glanced quickly up and down the landing. ‘Very well, my lady.'

He came into the room and stood uncomfortably just inside the door.

‘How long do you think it will take Mr Faulkener to get to London?' Angelica asked.

‘He'll be there by now,' Thomas replied. ‘Depends how long his business takes him when he'll be back. He's planning on being here tomorrow.'

‘Yes, he said,' said Angelica. She thought of Benoît's business with the Admiralty, and with her father, and wondered which would take longer.

How would the Earl react to Benoît's news? She didn't want to think about that now. She was still basking in the glow of happiness left over from the previous night.

‘You must have been with Mr Faulkener a long time,' she said brightly.

‘I worked for his father,' Thomas replied, ‘but I've known Master Benoît since we were both boys. I would have gone to sea with him, but my mother was a widow, and there were my sisters to think of…'

‘Yes,' said Angelica abruptly, reminded once more of the Earl. ‘There is always someone to think of. I'm sure you took good care of your family.'

‘My sisters are married now,' said Thomas cheerfully. ‘Ma lives with one of them. I could go with Master Benoît now. But I get seasick—and someone has to take care of Mrs Faulkener's horses.'

‘I'm sure no one could do it better,' Angelica said warmly. ‘I still haven't seen the tricks you've taught them. Mr Faulkener says you've taught Billy to count!'

Thomas smiled slowly, clearly gratified by her words.

‘Ah, well,' he said. ‘
I
do the counting, Billy just does what I tell him. Pity I can't say the same for some I could mention!' he added, glowering. Martha's deception clearly still rankled. ‘Well, I'd best be getting back to Master Adam,' he continued, before Angelica could think of a suitable reply. ‘I'll be there if you need me, my lady, but I don't imagine there'll be any trouble.'