One winters night, p.13
One Winter's Night, page 13
The lady sucked in her cheeks. Her lips formed a petulant pout. Wickedness danced in her eyes. “I hoped we could do this amicably, for everyone’s sake. You will marry me, Lord Denham. If I must run from this room naked, screaming that you’ve taken advantage of my innocent nature, I will be the next Countess of Denham.”
“Like hell you will.” Anger soared to the surface. “Do I look like a man who bows down to pathetic threats? Madam, I’m more powerful than you can comprehend. Don’t make me use the full weight of my wrath against you.” He thrust out his arm and pointed to the door. “Now get the hell out of my room.”
Miss Harper’s bottom lip quivered. She shuffled to the edge of the bed, struggled to meet his gaze. The foolish chit. Some men would have stolen her virtue and tossed her on the heap. There must be truth to the tale that the viscount lacked funds. Why else would Miss Harper take such desperate measures to secure a husband?
Relief raced through him when Miss Harper took the coverlet to shield her modesty. Confusion sent his pulse pounding when the lady sauntered past him without her clothes, opened the door to his chamber and cried, “Help! Come quickly!”
“You have the devil inside you, woman,” he snapped when she dropped the coverlet, crossed the room and threw herself into his arms.
“And I’ll have you inside me, even if I have to force you to the altar.” She threaded her arms around his neck in a vice-like grip. “Help! Come quickly. I need assistance.”
Hugo grabbed the hoyden’s hands and tried to prise her from his person. “I swear you will pay dearly for this.”
“Miss Venables! Hurry!” The shrew clung to him like knotweed.
“Let them come. It won’t make a damn difference.” He freed the hand grasping his coat, only for her to grab hold of his ballocks. “For all the saints!”
“Someone will come,” she sneered. “Shame it’s not you, but I’ll hold you here until they do. Lady Denham! Miss Pardue!”
God damn! Her cries for assistance were loud enough to wake the dead.
The pad of footsteps racing along the hall brought Miss Venables, frantically fastening her wrapper and looking slightly dishevelled. “Heavens! My lord, you must release Miss Harper at once!”
“Is there a problem, Miss Venables?” Northcott’s arrogant voice echoed in the corridor. No doubt they’d come from the same bedchamber.
“Perhaps you should come no further, my lord,” Miss Venables replied from the doorway.
Hugo wanted to throttle every one of them. “Get the hell out of my bedchamber,” he repeated for the umpteenth time when Miss Harper chose that moment to release his ballocks and fling her naked body onto the bed.
Wearing naught but a navy silk dressing gown, Northcott barged past Miss Venables to find his sister sprawled across the mattress, sobbing.
“What the devil!” He glared at Hugo. “Everyone knows you’ll offer for her, but could you not have announced your betrothal first? The chit might possess a rake’s bravado, but at heart she’s an innocent.”
Hugo straightened to his full height and inhaled a deep breath. “Miss Harper came here to trap me into marriage. I can assure you she’d be the last lady I would meet at the altar. Her vindictive actions this evening prove she is nothing but a vicious wildcat.”
Northcott jerked his head back. “But you invited her here with the intention of making her the next Countess of Denham.”
“My mother invited her. She will confirm that I never intended to marry Miss Harper.” If they thought to ensnare him in this age-old trap, they were sorely mistaken.
“So why did you strip me naked and have your wicked way?” the demon vixen whined.
“By God, Denham, I expected better from a man in your position.”
“Why? Because I’m not tupping the hired help?”
Miss Venables gasped.
To make matters worse, Miss Bennett appeared at the door. She took one look at him, one look as the lady feigning heartbreak on the bed and her jaw dropped. Shock marred her fine features. The corners of her mouth curled in disgust.
Heaven help him. If he lost Miss Bennett over this debacle, he would meet the viscount on the common at dawn.
“For the love of God, this is all a ruse.” He dragged his hand down his face and released a weary sigh. “I was in my study until five minutes ago. Crudging will tell you. I escorted Miss Bennett to her grandfather’s room as she feared he’d fallen out of bed. How the devil did I have time to meet Miss Harper, strip off her clothes and steal her virtue?”
“A servant will say anything to protect his master,” Miss Harper protested. “Miss Bennett is in love with you and will say anything to stop you marrying me.”
Was Miss Bennett in love with him?
He sincerely hoped so.
But it was time to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.
Hugo strode over to the viscount and prodded him in the chest. “Get her dressed and get her out of here. At first light, I want you and your lying minx of a sister out of my house. Is that clear? Say yes, else I shall punch you so hard you won’t get up. After which I shall write to every lord in the land and tell them to avoid your new shipping venture unless they’re happy to lose their coffers.”
The viscount blanched.
Hugo turned his attention to a pale-faced Miss Bennett lingering in the doorway. “Miss Bennett, I assure you this is not how it looks. As you know, based on time constraints alone, there is no feasible way I could have done this.”
Pity formed the basis of her smile. “My lord, even if you had the time, anyone who knows your character knows you couldn’t have done this.” Miss Bennett’s belief in him warmed his heart. “Any one of the guests can vouch for Miss Harper’s spiteful manner.”
“You’re only saying that because you want to be the next countess,” Miss Harper sniped.
The viscount gathered his sister’s clothes, threw them at her and barked, “Get your damn clothes on, Frances, before Denham sees you in Bedlam and me in debtors’ prison.”
While Miss Harper made herself presentable and whined like Miss Pardue about women’s mistreatment at the hands of powerful men, Hugo waited out in the hall with Miss Bennett.
Neither spoke. He was incapable of holding a conversation while keeping his temper. Miss Venables lowered her gaze as she left the room. Miss Harper’s lies continued to fall on deaf ears, and her brother was forced to grab the chit’s arm and drag her out into the corridor.
“I don’t give a damn about the weather,” Hugo said through gritted teeth as he locked gazes with the viscount. “The vicar has rooms. You can stay there until it’s safe to travel again.”
“Look, Denham, I knew nothing of my sister’s scheme.” Northcott’s green eyes swam with remorse. “You have my word I shall deal with the matter firmly.”
Miss Harper snatched her arm from the viscount’s grip. “You’re pathetic. This is all your doing. What, are we to live like paupers just because your brain is in your breeches? Someone had to do something to save this family.” And with that, she stormed back to her room.
Lord Northcott shuffled uncomfortably on the spot.
“Keep your sister away from me.” Hugo’s blood boiled. “And if I discover you had anything to do with Bertie’s death, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Bellham?” Northcott frowned. “Why in the devil’s name would you think I had anything to do with that?”
“You were the last person to see him alive.”
“That doesn’t mean I killed him.”
“Still, how convenient that you timed your arrival minutes before he met his demise.”
“That’s nothing more than a coincidence.” Northcott paused. Guilt flashed briefly in his eyes. He turned sideways, away from Miss Bennett and whispered, “In truth, I don’t know what time Bellham left the Swan. I was engaged upstairs at the time.” He raised a brow to indicate he’d been tupping a serving wench. “When I returned to the taproom, Bertie had gone.”
“Then why the devil didn’t you say so?”
“Because Miss Venables was sitting at the table.”
Hugo didn’t know what to believe anymore. When would this blasted nightmare end? Were it not for Miss Bennett’s company, he’d be fit for Bedlam. And now he’d ordered the only suspects out of the house. To retract the order now would only imply a measure of guilt on his part. And he’d done nothing to encourage Miss Harper’s attentions.
“Meet me in my study at ten in the morning, so we can discuss your travel plans.” And it would afford him an opportunity to question Northcott about certain voyages from France.
Northcott inclined his head and then turned on his heel and returned to his bedchamber.
Left alone with Miss Bennett in the dimly lit corridor, Hugo rubbed his neck to ease the tension. “I’m beginning to fear we will never discover what happened to Bertie.”
“While the viscount is a scoundrel when it comes to women, a fool when it comes to business by all accounts, he doesn’t seem the sort capable of murder. A man like that shoots people with a pistol. He doesn’t stab them with a table knife.”
Hugo sighed. “No, that’s a woman’s crime.”
“Which narrows the suspects down to two.”
Both women had behaved oddly since their arrival. Miss Venables had crept into the bothy at night, and she’d been seen at the gate. Miss Harper was more dangerous than any footpad. One of them killed Bertie. Or perhaps they both did.
He glanced at Miss Bennett and wished they were somewhere private, somewhere alone. “I cannot stay here, not with these people, not a moment longer.” Just knowing of their secrets, their lies and deceit, made him want to tear into their rooms, shake them by the shoulders and verbally rip them apart. “I’ll have to barricade my bedchamber door. I doubt I’ll get a wink of sleep knowing Miss Harper’s on the prowl.”
Miss Bennett touched his upper arm and rubbed affectionately. “Then let’s escape. Let’s search for supplies in the kitchen and head out to the tower. We’ll take some wood and light the fire.”
Pushing all rampant thoughts of seducing her aside—and there were many—Miss Bennett’s offer of sanctuary touched him deeply. Peace and tranquility was exactly what he needed. No man in his right mind would refuse the offer.
“And what of your reputation, Miss Bennett?”
“Who will know?” She cupped his cheek, came up on her tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Not that I would ever presume to know the workings of a man’s mind, but I’m certain you’re ready to deal with whatever trouble may come our way.”
Love for this woman glowed hot in his chest. He glanced at her dress. The same midnight-blue silk he had ventured beneath to find his own version of heaven. “You do know what will happen if we’re alone in the tower,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead.
When she looked up, he saw his own desire reflected back. “Then take me to the tower and make love to me, Hugo. There’s not another man in this world with whom I would want to share the experience.”
Hell, he loved that she was so direct.
“Then permit me to ask you a question before we leave, Lara.” She would make an excellent countess. She would be a strong presence in the household. Not that such things mattered. He would abandon his responsibilities, live in a cabin in the woods to be with her.
She placed a finger on his lips. “Ask your question when we return from the tower. When we leave this house tonight, we leave as two people with a responsibility to no one but ourselves. Two people looking to satisfy their hearts’ desires.”
“Then know this.” He pressed his lips to hers and didn’t care who saw them. “You’re the only thing my heart desires.”
Chapter Fourteen
They took a basket from the kitchen and filled it with slices of cold game pie, cheese, wine and a hunk of bread. Hugo found a cloth sack and filled it with as many logs as he could carry. A flurry of excitement saw him chuckle as he shrugged into his greatcoat. When insisting he tie the ribbons on Lara’s red cloak, he couldn’t help but steal a kiss.
They trudged through the snow to the orchard, inventing a story that they lived simple lives. He worked as a woodcutter, and they were already married.
“A simple life filled with love is all anyone can ask for.” The mere sound of her voice soothed his soul like the sweetest lullaby. And yet every muscle wrung tight with the need to drive into her warm body.
The icy wind nipped at his nose and cheeks. He could no longer feel his numb toes. But he had never been happier in his life.
“If you catch me, you can claim a kiss,” Lara teased. She tried to run in the snow, but it was as if she wore lead boots. Ten feet in front, she dropped the basket and collapsed into an exhausted heap.
Hugo dropped the wood. If the logs were too damp to light, he would keep her warm. He fell on top of her, held her arms above her head and pressed her into the soft bed of snow. “You owe me a kiss, my lady.”
Lara giggled. “Then you must claim it, my lord.”
The kiss—the hot, wet melding of mouths—sent blood rushing to his cock. She welcomed him into her mouth. Their tongues tangled in a dangerous and desperate dance that saw them both writhing in the snow in a frantic bid to ease the internal ache.
A sliver of common sense fought its way through his raging desire. “Come, you’ll be soaked through, and I forbid you to catch a chill.”
“You forbid me?” She laughed lightly as he stood and hauled her to her feet. “Are you always so commanding?”
“The need to protect you demands some assertiveness. Grab the basket. The tower is another minute’s walk ahead. Then we shall see about getting you out of those damp clothes.” A delicious shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. “And I shall relish every second.”
“I’m rather skilled at stripping a man out of his clothes.” She panted beside him as they quickened their pace. “Indeed, I’ve had lots of practice.”
Had it not been for her teasing tone, jealousy might have dampened his ardour. “I assume you speak of Montague.”
“After one of his drunken bouts, I often undress him down to his shirt and breeches and leave him to sleep on the chaise. I used to think he had a reckless streak, but now I wonder if he sought to blot out memories of the past.”
The comment drew Hugo’s mind back to the rampant goings-on in Montague’s bedchamber. “We’re simple folk, remember,” he said, keen to put those thoughts from his mind tonight. “In our world, we’re the only two people who exist.”
The sight of the medieval tower sent his heart racing. The sight of the woman he loved, jumping up and down outside the old oak door, trying to knock the snow off her boots, melted his insides. She laughed as their gazes locked. God, she was beautiful. He was but a slave to her whims and desires.
As always, the door was unlocked. Once inside, Hugo braced a chair against the handle should Miss Harper stalk after them in a bid to seek vengeance. Upstairs in the bedchamber, he set to work lighting the fire, while Lara rubbed her hands together and watched. At the first flicker of amber flames, his mind turned to seduction.
Aware of her eyes following his every move, he shrugged out of his greatcoat, threw it over the chair and met her heated gaze. The surrounding air thrummed with unsated lust. Unspoken words of love and longing passed between them. Her large brown eyes promised more than a safe haven. They promised a lifetime of bliss.
“Let me help you out of those wet clothes.” Hugo held out his hand, the first move in the thrilling dance that was to follow. She came to him in an instant, with a confident smile and a willingness to indulge every wild fantasy.
A simple tug of the red ribbons securing her cloak hardened the muscles in his abdomen. When the garment slipped from her shoulders to pool on the floor, his cock twitched in response. Never had he been so hard for a woman.
“Let us see how nimble your fingers are when working in the cold.” She turned around to offer him the neat row of buttons running from the neckline of her fetching blue gown.
“Am I not a humble woodcutter and this my meagre abode?” He slipped the first button free with ease. “Do I not make a living using my hands?” With three more buttons undone, the material gaped open. The glimpse of creamy white skin above the low neckline of her petticoat commanded his attention. He bent his head, unable to fight the need to press his lips to her bare flesh.
“Hmm.” She hummed a sweet sound of satisfaction when he kissed the sensitive spot at the base of her nape. The fact she cocked her head told him she wanted more.
Indeed, he unbuttoned her to the waist while nipping and sucking her neck. Lust flamed as hot as the logs burning in the grate. He pushed her dress off her shoulders while she yanked at the sleeves. Hell, he couldn’t stop his hands exploring every lush curve, and so drew her back against his chest, and cupped her soft breasts still confined in stays.
“Get me out of these clothes, Hugo.” The lady hummed again when he pressed his erection against her buttocks. “Hurry.”
“As you command, my love.” He couldn’t resist one last suck of her earlobe.
With his assistance, and the sensual wiggle of her hips, the dress sank to the floor. The petticoat followed. With surprising dexterity for a man whose blood pumped too quickly, he unthreaded the ties preventing him from lavishing her pert nipples.
“Unlace my boots.” A nervous edge coated her voice. Perhaps because nothing but her chemise hid her nakedness.
Hugo dropped to his knees and removed both boots. She hissed a breath as his hands slid under her chemise to remove her stockings. A moan escaped her when his fingers stroked higher up her thighs and grazed her sex.
She swung around to face him, pulled the pins from her hair and shook out the mass of rich brown tresses. Offering a coy smile, she moistened her lips in invitation, while he stood engrossed with thoughts of exploring every inch of her delectable body.
