Silk And Steel Part 23

"You must believe that. There is always room for hope."

Hope. It was a word she had clung to for years. Where her husband was concerned, she wasn't sure how much longer she could believe in the possibility. Forcing away the painful thought, Kathryn returned her attention to Winnie and her upcoming marriage.

"My husband may not know what it means to fall in love, but he respects Nat Whitley and I know he would want you to be happy."

Footsteps sounded behind them just then. "Happy?" Lucien strode toward them with a smile. "How could I possibly be happy when my favorite aunt is abandoning me for life in the city?" He'd been partridge hunting with the duke. He still wore his shooting jacket and high black riding boots. With his dark hair slightly wind-tossed, he looked unbearably handsome.

Winnie nervously toyed with a wisp of blond hair, fallen loose from the soft curls atop her head. "I'm your favorite aunt because I'm your only aunt, and I am hoping you'll be happy for me because... because I am soon to be married."

"Married!" His eyes swung to Kathryn and for an instant there was something intimate and disturbing in his gaze. "Who is the lucky man-and it had better be Nat Whitley."

Winnie sputtered in surprise, then leapt to her feet, her solemn expression disappearing in a brilliant smile. "Then you don't disapprove?"

"Of course not. I can't think of a man who would make a finer husband than Nat, and I know how much he cares for you."

Her arms went around him and Winnie hugged him hard. "Thank you, Lucien. I love him so much and I was so worried." Winnie's eyes misted with tears. "Nat wanted to speak to you, but I couldn't bear the thought that you might not approve. My father turned him away from my door when he was a boy. I couldn't bear to think of him being hurt again."

"I'm happy to welcome Nat into the family. I hope you will tell him I said so."

"Yes. Oh, yes, I shall." She drew a pretty lace handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. "I can't remember when I've ever been so happy."

Kathryn smiled. "You deserve to be happy, Aunt Winnie." For an instant, her gaze strayed to the dark eyes of her husband. Something unreadable moved in their depths, then it was gone. She wondered what he was thinking, wondered if there was the slightest chance that one day he would come to love her as Nat Whitley loved Winnie DeWitt.

Knowing him as she now did, Kathryn didn't believe there was. She continued to smile, but her heart ached unbearably.

Lucien dug his heels into the sides of his spirited black stallion, urging the horse to a faster gallop across the fields. He was restless today, oddly disturbed in some manner. He wasn't certain what it was. He only knew that Kathryn was the cause.

In the past few days since his aunt had left to return to London, something had shifted between them. Kathryn had been listless and strangely remote, keeping to herself and rarely spending time even with little Michael. Sensing her withdrawal but unsure of the cause, he had left her alone, staying away even from her bedchamber at night.

Though his body craved the release he was accustomed to seeking, he had forced himself not to go to her, hoping in time her usual high spirits would return. So far that hadn't occurred. At night, lying alone in his big four-poster bed, his body ached with frustrated desire for her, but it was more than that. He wanted simply to be with her, to lie beside her and hold her while she slept.

It terrified him to think he wanted more from his wife than occasional companionship and the use of her body, but he was beginning to think that he did. He found himself straining to hear her voice, the warm sound of her laughter, as she pa.s.sed down the hall. During the day, he stood at the window overlooking the garden just to get a glimpse of her, to watch the way the sunlight glinted off the auburn in her hair.

Two days ago, he bought her a small, leather-bound volume of Shakespeare's sonnets, hoping to distract her from the melancholy she had sunk into.

"You bought this for me?" She seemed incredulous he would do even such a small, simple thing, and he found the thought more than a little disturbing.

He cleared his throat. "I thought... hoped you might like it. You have seemed a bit out of sorts of late."

For an instant he could have sworn her eyes had misted with tears. "Thank you, my lord. I shall treasure it always." She had accepted the book and held it against her breast as if it were fashioned of gold instead of merely paper, smiling up at him with such sweetness something clenched hard in his chest.

Lucien reined the black toward the open fields and increased his speed, set the stallion into a steady pace toward the stone wall that loomed ahead. The stallion was an excellent jumper. He sailed over the wall with ease and Lucien turned him toward a tall hedge bordering the stream. The animal took the jump like the champion he was, and Lucien patted his neck in praise, then reined him back toward the house.

Two more jumps along the way. It felt good to be out in the warm spring air, to be free of his disturbing thoughts of Kathryn. The stallion approached the jump, a stone fence higher than the rest, a challenge another horse might have refused. Lucien knew Blade would not. As they approached the fence, the animal collected himself, Lucien lifted over the horse's neck at exactly the right instant, and together they flew over the fence. They had almost made it to the opposite side when he heard an ominous snap. The saddle shifted beneath him then dropped away and his weight lifted into the air.

The horse landed hard and slightly out of rhythm, nearly going down himself. Lucien's shoulder clipped the side of the high stone fence and he felt a jolt of pain, then his head hit the ground. He fought against the darkness closing in on him, then his vision grew dim, and the world spun into blackness.

He wasn't sure how long he lay unconscious, only a minute or two, no more. He staggered to his feet, shaking his head to clear it, leaning against the gray rock for support. His head pounded viciously. A bruise was forming on his shoulder, and his knuckles ached where they had been sc.r.a.ped, but otherwise he was unhurt. His white shirt hung open nearly to the waist, his jacket and breeches were covered with dirt and leaves. A soft nicker pulled his attention to Blade, who stood shaking a few feet away, his reins hanging down, his sides and nostrils flaring. The saddle lay in a heap near the animal's feet.

Ignoring the dizziness that a.s.saulted him, Lucien made his way to the horse. Speaking to him softly, he smoothed the stallion's sides and patted his neck as he checked him for injuries. Gratefully finding none, he reached down to examine the saddle and saw at a glance the reason for his spill-the cinch had simply broken. He went down on one knee to survey the equipment more closely.

At first it appeared there was merely a break in the leather, but the saddle wasn't old and it had always been well cared for. He checked the severed edges of the leather again and this time he noticed there were faint circular marks where the leather had been weakened. A good hard ride, a moment of strain as he took a series of jumps as he had done today, and the cinch would give way.

Lucien cursed beneath his breath. His fall was no accident. And it was the third time in a few short months that he had nearly been killed. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! Fighting the anger shooting through him, he gathered the horse's reins and started walking back to the house.

The servants were gossiping. Walking down the hall toward the kitchen, Kathryn could hear a group of them gathered behind the door. Then the door burst open and f.a.n.n.y rushed out, running so fast she nearly collided with Kathryn.

"Milady! Beg pardon! I didn't see you standin' there."

"What is it, f.a.n.n.y? What's going on?"

She glanced around a bit furtively, then pulled Kathryn down the hall and around the corner where no one could hear. " 'Tis his lordship, milady. The cinch broke on his saddle and he took a pretty bad spill. He told the lads in the stable not to worry you, but we all thought you should know."

Kathryn's pulse began to race. "Where is he? How badly is he injured?"

"Joey says he's fine, just shook up a bit. As to where he is, I couldn't say for sure. He might still be out in the stables."

Kathryn didn't wait to hear more, just hoisted her skirts and took off like a shot out the back door. When she reached the stable, she found Bennie working over Blade, rubbing the sweat from his lathered black coat, but Lucien was nowhere near.

"Do you know where his lordship went, Bennie? I heard he had a riding accident."

"He went up to the house, milady. He were all right, though, just a b.u.mp on the head, nothin' serious."

Nothing serious. Those words, she had learned, were the standard reply all men made, no matter how severe the injury. She turned and started back to the house, but just inside the stable door, she spotted Lucien's saddle, and an unpleasant suspicion began to form. Changing course, she bent to survey the equipment, saw that the cinch had broken.

At first it looked as though the break was simply that. The edges were ragged, not smooth as they would have been if the leather had been cut. She started to breathe a sigh of relief when she noticed an odd pattern in the way the edges were frayed. The cinch had not been cut, but it was possible small holes had been made in the leather to weaken it. When it broke, if no one examined it closely, the edge would look frayed, as if the break were truly accidental.

Fear sent a chill down Kathryn's spine. Her throat tightened against the feeling of panic that lodged there. Lifting her skirts up out of the way, she raced back to the house and up the rear stairs, ran down the hall, and jerked open the door to Lucien's suite without bothering to knock.

He was still dressed in his boots and breeches, standing in front of the small oval mirror on his dresser, his shirt missing and his chest bare. He splashed a handful of water onto his face and gleaming droplets ran down his throat and into the curly black hair on his chest. Muscles stretched and tightened with each of his movements, rippled down his flat belly.

For a moment, Kathryn just stood there, admiring all that hard male flesh and wishing she could reach out and touch him. He hadn't come to her room in nearly two weeks and she had missed him.

Until she saw him standing there half-naked, she hadn't realized quite how much.

He blotted his face with a towel and his eyes swung to hers. "Obviously you heard I took a fall. I a.s.sure you I am quite all right. I've survived any number of similar spills and this one is no more serious than the others. If you have come to badger me with your potions and remedies, I'm afraid I shall have to disappoint you."

"Are you... are you certain that you are all right? Perhaps I should have a quick look."

His hard look softened at the worry on her face. "I'm fine. I bruised my shoulder and hit my head but I'm feeling much better now."

Unconsciously, she moved toward him, thinking of the saddle she had examined and uncertain exactly what to say. "I gather the cinch broke on your saddle."

He stiffened a bit, laid the towel beside the pitcher and basin on the dresser. "News travels fast."

"You could have been badly injured."

His face closed up. "I suppose I could have. Things like that happen."

"I saw the saddle, Lucien. I don't believe it was an accident. I don't believe you think so, either."

"Kathryn..."

She dug her nails into her palms to keep the tears from welling in her eyes. Lucien was in danger and it was her fault-again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen. I never thought for a moment he would go this far." As hard as she fought them back, tears surfaced and her vision blurred, his tall image swimming in front of her eyes. "I wouldn't have married you. No matter what he did-I wouldn't have put you in this kind of danger."

He moved then, with swift sureness, crossing the room to where she stood and wrapping her up in his arms. "Easy, love. It's all right. We don't know for sure who is behind this and, in any case, it certainly isn't any fault of yours."

"It is my fault," she argued against his chest, wishing with every heartbeat it wasn't the truth.

Lucien eased her back and looked into her face. "You want to tell me why?"

Misery washed over her in a sickening wave. "Because of my father's will. There's a clause in the will I never paid much attention to. It says that if my husband should die before I reach my majority, I am returned to the custody of my uncle. Even should I remain here at the castle, he would be in control of my money until such time as I remarried or turned four and twenty." She looked up at him through her tears. "He's trying to kill you, Lucien. Sweet G.o.d, what are we going to do?"

He eased her back into his arms and they tightened protectively around her. "I imagined it was Dunstan, though I hadn't quite figured out what he had to gain. As to what I intend to do, I'm not yet sure." He smiled down at her softly. "But I promise you, I don't intend to let him kill me."

Kathryn dragged in a shaky breath and nodded, her fear beginning to recede. For the present, Lucien was safe. They had discovered her uncle's scheme and the motive behind it. They would find a way to stop him.

"All right?" he asked, lifting her chin with his finger.

Kathryn nodded and tried to smile, but in truth she wasn't all right. She felt sick at what had almost happened and guilty that she was the cause.

"We'll talk more about this later," he said, letting her go and taking a step away as if he wanted to put some distance between them. "In the meantime, why don't you rest a while before it is time for supper?"

But suddenly she didn't want to rest. She wanted to be with Lucien. She wanted to touch him, kiss him, a.s.sure herself that he was safe.

She moved closer, reached out and rested a hand on his chest, felt those hard muscles tighten. "I would rather stay here," she said softly. "I know you aren't the sort of man who would ever need a woman, but there are times when I need you. I need you now, Lucien." Going up on tiptoe, she slid a hand behind his neck and dragged his mouth down to hers for a kiss. When his lips parted in surprise, she slid her tongue inside and heard him groan.

His arms tightened almost painfully around her. "Kathryn..."

"I want you, Lucien. I need you." She kissed him again and a shudder rippled the length of his long, lean frame. His answering kiss was fierce. Deep, wet, hot, hungry. His hands moved frantically over her clothes, unfastening the b.u.t.tons and tabs, disposing of her garments, tearing a slight rip in her chemise in his haste to be rid of it.

His need of her made her own need swell. She was warm all over, her skin tingling and her breathing too fast. She wanted him. G.o.d, she wanted him so much. She cupped the front of his breeches, felt his hardness, the stiff pulsing length of him, and began to work the b.u.t.tons that held imprisoned him inside.

His shaft sprang free, thick and hot and pulsing. With hands that trembled, Kathryn gently stroked him, and a rough sound came from his throat. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, but Kathryn wanted more. She pressed soft kisses along his throat, pressed her mouth against the warm skin beneath his collarbone, trailed soft, moist kisses over his bare chest and down to the flat stomach below. He tasted salty from his morning ride and his skin was smooth and hot. She circled his navel with her tongue and a tremor pa.s.sed through him, matching the one that tingled through her.

He whispered her name as his hands slid into her hair dislodging the pins and freeing it to tumble down her back.

Kathryn circled his hard length with her hand, slid down to her knees and trailed kisses lower, heard him drag in a sharp, hissing breath. She wanted to taste the maleness of him, to know the intimate part of him he used with such skill. She kissed the smooth flesh over an arousal as rigid as steel and took him into her mouth.

Lucien's whole body tightened. His voice sounded thick and rough. "Kathryn... forG.o.dsakes..."

But Kathryn refused to relent. For the first time, she was the one who wielded the power, a power, she had only just discovered. Sensing how desperately he strained for control, she tasted him, stroked him, toyed with him until a fierce, low growl erupted from his throat.

Then he was lifting her up, carrying her over to his big feather bed and resting her in the middle. He paused only long enough to strip away the balance of his clothes, then he came down beside her on the bed. Kathryn's eyes widened as he lifted her up and settled her astride his hardened length. A hand fisted in her hair and he dragged her mouth down to his for a ravishing kiss that left her weak and breathless.

"Tell me what you need," he softly demanded, caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and gently plucking the ends.

Kathryn tried to show him with her body, moving restlessly on top of him, feeling the heat as she settled herself more fully onto his arousal.

"Tell me," he commanded, determined to hear the words, watching her with fierce dark eyes that seemed to devour her. "Tell me what you need."

Kathryn touched his beautiful mouth with trembling fingers. "I need... you, Lucien."

With a low growl in his throat, he surged into her, impaling her completely, and heat roared like fire in her blood. "Then do as you wish, my love. Take whatever you need."

His words spilled through her, arousing her more than she was already. The feeling of power returned, stronger than it was before. Naked, she began to ride him.

Hard muscle tightened beneath her. Kathryn felt the tension in his lean, powerful body, the control he exerted in an effort to please her. Hot sensation rolled over her skin and dampness slid into her core. Kathryn gave in to the building pleasure, absorbing it, feeling it in every muscle and fiber. She rode him mercilessly, taking, taking, letting her head fall back as the pleasure grew more intense and her body tightened around him.

His hands caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, captured her hips, and he began to move with her, driving himself deeper still. She cried out his name as a towering climax ripped through her, pleasure, heat, and need all merging into one. Holding her in place, Lucien thrust into her again and again, taking her deeply and stirring her to a second wrenching climax. Another hard thrust, and he followed her to release, both of them shaking with the force of it.

As she began to spiral down, Lucien gently eased her off him, drawing her down beside him on the bed, his arms curling protectively around her. Kathryn closed her eyes, grateful for the comfort of his body, feeling closer to him than she had in weeks. In this there were no barriers between them, only an eagerness to bring each other pleasure. Combined with love, such a powerful physical attraction could make a strong and enduring marriage.

Without it, eventually the pa.s.sion would dwindle and fade. Kathryn couldn't help wondering how long this, the only real bond they shared, would last in the months ahead. Would it be severed once she carried his child? It hurt to think of it, to know that once she was round and heavy with his babe, Lucien would undoubtedly take a mistress, as other men of his station did.

Though the haze of pleasure still tingled in her body, a soft ache throbbed in her heart.

TWENTY.

Standing in front of the desk in Nathaniel Whitley's office on Threadneedle Street, Lucien signed the doc.u.ment lying in front of him and returned it to Nat, who carefully sanded it, folded it, and sealed it with a drop of wax.

"It is signed, witnessed by me, and dated," Nat said. "I shall place it in my safe along with the cinch and the other doc.u.ments you've provided. Should anything untoward happen to you, I shall see the whole of it delivered to the magistrates' office." Nat looked up from the stack of papers, jerked the small wire-rimmed spectacles from his nose. "ForG.o.dsake, Lucien-the man tried to murder you. He should be hanged from the nearest tree for what he has done."

Lucien ran a hand over his face, wishing it were that simple. "I should like nothing better, I a.s.sure you. At this point, however, we have little proof it was Dunstan who actually paid men to kill me. The men behind the attack at the Quill and Sword are long gone. The testimony of a groom will hardly stand up against that of an earl-especially not one as powerful as Dunstan."

The sworn testimony was the second sealed doc.u.ment Lucien had provided, wrung from a man named Oliver Weed, a groom newly in his employ. Bennie Taylor had helped him uncover the man's ident.i.ty. Weed had been among the group working in the loft when the heavy iron hoist had fallen and nearly killed him. Bennie recalled seeing the same man working over Lucien's saddle. At the time, he'd thought the groom was simply seeing to its care.

Captured and forced to admit the truth, Weed had confessed to the attempts on Lucien's life and named his employer-Evan Sloan, Dunstan's estate manager. But there wasn't nearly enough evidence to go after the earl himself-or even Sloan, for that matter.

"These doc.u.ments will only prove useful should I die in some suspicious manner," Lucien said. "If that should occur, Douglas Roth will find himself charged with murder."

"But you will still be dead."

"Unfortunately that is true." His mouth curved faintly. "However, that is not going to happen. Not once Dunstan learns the threat these doc.u.ments pose."

"And how do you intend to go about informing him?"

"I'm leaving for Milford Park on the morrow. Dunstan is supposed to be gone from the property by the end of the month-that is only a few more days. With my marriage to Kathryn, I'm now the owner of that estate and I fully intend to see that he leaves."

"You had better be careful, Lucien. The man has no conscience. Killing you wouldn't bother him in the least. Look what he did to his niece-his own flesh and blood."

"I'll be careful. And I'm taking along a friend just in case."