Something was definitely not right.Rosalind stood in the center of Ashton's empty bedchamber. It surprised her that she was bothered by his absence. She should have enjoyed the quiet, and yet she longed for his intense gaze and the way he made her feel as if she were the only person in the world.That was one thing she hadn't realized she would enjoy, being the sole focus of a man's attention. Perhaps it was because he was genuinely interested in her and had no wish to hurt or use herhe just wanted her. With Ashton, the world seemed to halt and it was just the two of them, even when they were quarreling.After his departure in the middle of dinner, she'd assumed he'd gone to see to his brother but would likely return. Then Charles had made his apologies, as had Lady Lennox shortly after dinner was over. Given their worried looks before they'd left, Rosalind had sensed something was wrong but wasn't in a position to pry. She'd refused to change out of her clothes and sent Claire to
Brock Kincade stood at the edge of the cemetery, staring out at the freshly upturned dirt of his father's grave. Moonlight washed the cemetery in pale cream and opalescent white. The carved headstones formed shadows almost as black as the night itself. But Brock was no longer afraid. The creature that had frightened him since he was a child was gone. Forever.His horse gave an impatient huff and stamped his hooves, no doubt anxious to be back in the stables with a blanket on his back and fresh oats in his bucket."All right, you lazy beast," Brock muttered and stroked a palm over the animal's neck as he mounted up.He departed the quiet churchyard and trotted back up the winding hill to Castle Kincade, the shallow moat filled with rainwater and the ancient wooden bridge lowered to allow passage into the keep.It had been more than a hundred years since the castle had demanded defense, but like an old wolf, it was crouched and ready to do so at a moment's notice. Soon it would be a
Rosalind barely slept that night alone in Ashton's bed. She missed the man, his warmth, his laugh, his touch. The scent of him clung to the sheets like a ghost lover. An empty bed had never bothered her before, but it did now because she knew what she was longing for. Her sweet and seductive baron.As dawn peeped in through the windows, Rosalind crawled out of bed and pulled the cord for Claire. It was going to be a long day if she continued to feel this way. She jumped when the door opened, far too soon for it to have been Claire.Ashton stood there, looking as bad as she felt."Rosalind?" He blinked, keeping his distance by remaining in the doorway. He was pale, his blue eyes heavy with shadows. "What are you doing here?""You said I was to stay in your chambers" Had she done something wrong?He walked a step farther into the room, dragging a hand through his hair. "I thought perhaps you'd take advantage and leave while I was seeing to Rafe."She bristled. "I made a promise to
Sweat coated Ashton's brow, and his fevered murmurs broke Rosalind's heart. She held her breath each time Ashton's chest rose and fell, fearing it would be his last.The illness had claimed another three lives in the village since Ashton and Rafe had fallen ill three days ago. Terror had swept through Lennox House, but Rosalind had refused to leave Ashton's side. Her heart lodged in her throat whenever he lay too still in his sheets.He had tossed about restlessly for the last hour before sinking into another frightening silence. His breathing had become shallow and his skin clammy to the touch. Every muscle in Rosalind's body tensed as she studied him, searching for any sign that he was slipping away from her.You won't leave me, Lennox. Not like this. I demand a fair fight with you, you coward. I want She prayed he could hear her thoughts. She was too afraid to utter them aloud. I want to marry you."How is he?" Regina stood by the doorway, her eyes red.The two of them had beco
Brock motioned for his brothers to stay close behind him as they snuck up to the terrace at the back of Lennox House. After three days of hard riding with barely any sleep, they'd managed to find the home of the man who held their sister captive.Brock checked the pistol he held, hoping he wouldn't have to use it, but if Lennox or his friends tried to stop them, he would. He glanced at his two younger brothers, both holding their own pistols, their faces grim as they studied the expansive country house. Thankfully there were a few lights by the windows, which helped conceal them in the darkness while they searched for a way in. Hugo's man was supposed to leave a terrace door unlocked for them."We ought to split up once inside. Search every room until we find her. Then we meet where we tied the horses. If you come across any servants or members of the household, restrain them so they cannot sound the alarm." They would not kill anyone, not unless it was absolutely necessary.Like da
The hour was late. The clock in the entryway chimed eerily in the silence. Rosalind replayed the hurtful words she'd heard Ashton and Charles say, her mind still reeling with the revelation of Ashton's betrayal. It was time to leave and return to London. She'd find a way to get her life back from Ashton's ironclad control some other way. There was no chance she would marry him now, the damned awful man.Rosalind came down the main stairs, intending to fetch a glass of water from the kitchens without disturbing Claire, and suddenly froze when she heard cloth rustle. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Someone was watching her. Doing her best to act unaware of the hidden eyes of servants, she started walking toward the servants' quarters to find Claire. The rustling of clothes was her only warning she wasn't alone.Someone grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth tightly and lifting her by the waist off the ground. She struggled, trying to kick out, but when the man star
"Where has Rosalind gone off to?" Ashton grumbled as he climbed out of bed."Who cares? The woman is trouble." Charles tried to shove Ash back onto the bed when he swayed unsteadily.There was a fuzziness in his head he couldn't shake. He needed to see Rosalind. Something in his gut clenched, a primal warning sign that something was wrong."Let me up. I need to find her." He struggled against the blankets and his friend's hands. He wasn't going to admit to his friend that he was worried she would leave. He'd begun to open his heart up to her, and if she decided to go back to London because he kept shutting her out, she would never trust him. He couldn't forget the hurt look in her eyes when he'd demanded that she leave him and Charles alone. He needed to find her and have a moment to explain everything."But""No!" Ashton nearly fell out of bed, and Charles caught his left arm, holding him up."Help me with my boots. I must find her." He panted, trying to catch his breath as the
Lucien leaned over Ashton's body. "Good Lord. Is he dead?""Help him up, you fool." Charles hadn't gotten back in time to stop his friend's fall, and Lucien's joking tone was about as ill-timed as humanly possible. "It's the grippe. Rafe brought it home. They have both been sick the last few days." Lucien got down and helped Godric hoist Ashton up by his arms and legs."The grippe?" Godric paused. "What the devil was he doing out of bed?""It wasn't my intention, but we've had some problems," Charles explained as they carried Ashton back upstairs."Problems?" Lucien asked they followed Charles into Ashton's chambers."Yes." Charles walked over to the dresser where a basin with cool water was waiting for him. He wet a fresh cloth and placed it on Ashton's brow. "You see, Rosalind"Jonathan skidded into the room. "The coach is waiting in the front. We'll catch those Scot bastards!"This only confused Godric more. "What the devil are you on about?"Jonathan glanced at his brother
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More