Chapter 13
All his life, he’d used words as armor. His intellect as a shield. His ability to discourse had helped him deny passion. Oh, he’d always been a man that enjoyed what happened between a man and a woman. Rarely had he allowed himself to feel anything profound about it.
But tonight, he no longer wished to keep his desire at bay. His remarkable feelings for her at bay. She was the spark of his fire. She had awakened him to life again. Gently, he took her wine and placed both of their glasses aside.
Now that he felt that molten force flow through him, he wouldn’t deny it.
How could he? How could one go back to being dead and cold when Andromeda was near?
So, at her command, he slid his hand to her back and pulled her close.
It was tempting to devour her. But what if this chance never came again? What if he had to remember every touch? Every caress? Every breath between them?
No, he would take his time and make note of her every grace.
The light of the fire cast shadows upon her strong, beautiful face. Her dark hair fell over his hand as he cupped the nape of her neck.
Anticipation blossomed in her eyes as he took his time. Then, as if discovering the gateway to the greatest secret one could ever know, he kissed her.
Their lips touched and he could not stop the awe he felt taking over him.
Kiss for kiss, breath for breath, he learned the curve of her lips, the softness of her tongue, the way she tilted her head to meet him.
With each caress, he grew drunk on her. For he was heady with discovery. Discovery of her.
Her hands came to rest on his shoulders and the hesitance that had been there before vanished.
His careful study began to give way to ragged passion. His mind could no longer control the fervor of his exploration.
Their breaths mingled. His hands now roved her back, pressing her to him.
The feel of her breasts crushed against his chest was nearly his undoing. He had to have her. But he knew he could not. Not now. Not like this.
She was not something to be taken mindlessly.
But as her hands grabbed on to his shirt, holding him close, a brief thought crossed his mind. How could they stop?
So, he backed her towards the window.
Highland moonlight spilled down over them.
Between fire and starlight, he felt as if he’d left the world behind. He was in her world. Their world. There was nothing but them.
No pain. No fear. No thought but the meeting of their bodies.
She arched against him, her passion as hot as his.
A deep male voice suddenly cut through his reverie,
“It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere one can say ‘It lightens.’”
He groaned, pressing his forehead to the top of her head.
“Hello, John,” she said, her face mostly tucked against his chest, her voice pained.
“Why, hello, dearest Andromeda,” the man called cheerfully. “Good to see you in such fine health.”
Oh so slowly, he turned. “Who the devil are you?”
“A friend,” John said brightly. “I arrived after dinner. Estate business.”
“Ye are the worst, most meddlesome man,” Andromeda accused, glancing around Damian’s shoulder.
John’s eyes widened with mock horror. “Moi? I am wounded to the quick. Merry did mention you’d set your eye on a beautiful piece of flesh. He is beautiful, Andromeda, I grant you. But is he trustworthy? That is the question.”
“John, please go,” she ground out, her hands tight on Damian’s arms.
“Why?” he asked, apparently determined to be obvious to the awkwardness of the situation.
“John, ye are impossible,” she hissed.
“I am your savior,” he pronounced, sauntering in. “Wings and all. He wants you for your funds, dear friend. So do not let him trap you into matrimony with clandestine amour.”
She blinked, staring straight at the man who’d put an end to their tryst.
A sort of horrified panic swept over him. When put like that, it sounded absolutely terrible. But he had not kissed her to trap her. He would imprison no living thing. He could not. He’d rather be dead.
“You, sir, know not of what you speak,” Damian growled.
“Don’t I?” John held up his hands in supplication. “Well then, I do ask for forgiveness.”
The stranger headed towards a bookshelf. “I, too, suffer from night walking. I had come looking for something a bit naughty. Fanny Hill, perhaps? But now, I think I had best stick to the straight and narrow. Surely, Clyde has sermons about. Somewhere.”
“John,” Andromeda bit out, her hands dropping to her sides. “Ye’re as straight and narrow as an oval.”
John laughed. “I am reformed.” He quickly chose a book. “You know, no one in this house would force you to wed if you two dance between the sheets. . . But from the little I see, you are on a dangerous path. But then again, aren’t those the most appealing kind?”
And with that he departed.
“What in God’s name just occurred?”
“John,” she sighed. “He is the most infuriating man. One never quite kens if his motives are good or ill.”
He ground his teeth together then said, “I had the urge to pop him in the jaw.”
She laughed. It was not an altogether good-humored sound. She smoothed her dressing gown. “I’m sure he’d have simply popped ye right back.”
“What he said,” Damian began.
She lifted a hand. “Let’s no’ speak of it.”
“But—”
“Why are ye here?” she asked gently. “To kiss me? Or is it that the Duke of Rockford isna the patron ye were hoping for? Perhaps a patroness? We shall discuss it tomorrow when we both have clearer heads.”
Without another word, she slipped around him, leaving him entirely alone in the library.
Alone as he so often was.
A log rolled and crackled on the fire. Just as it did, a cloud passed over the room, leaving the moon hidden and the room far darker than it had been.
Or was it simply, that she was no longer in it?
Whichever it was, he was in a great deal of trouble. For he knew without a doubt, that he longed for her far more than she longed for him.
“A long walk shall be just the thing.”
The coffee had not taken good enough effect upon his mind or body that Damian was willing to reply to John with anything other than a baleful glare. Murder was tempting, if extreme.
The fact that he was Lord Garret Hart’s half-brother, bastard half-brother, had given him pause this morning. Not his bastardy, but his filial relationship to a man Damian liked. It had been tempting to give the ponce a verbal lashing before he’d consumed his coffee. But once he’d learned that he wasn’t just an errant arse, Damian had managed to pause.
He liked Lord Hart. John? He’d rather deal with an irascible camel.
Lord Hart paused on his descent down the stairs, caught the look Damian gave his half-brother and laughed. “No one likes John upon first meeting him.”
“Oh, this isn’t our first meeting,” John supplied merrily.
“No?” checked Lord Hart.
“We met in the library in the wee hours,” John supplied happily. “We discussed Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet. Passions kissing and consuming and all that.”
Lord Hart frowned. “Never would have taken you for a lover of Romeo and Juliet, Peterboro.”
“One can’t help but admire the end,” he drawled.
John choked. “I thought you a lover, Lord Peterboro.”
“Romeo was an idiot,” he declared without hesitation. “Juliet was horribly misguided and a child. And frankly, the nurse and priest gave the most addled advice. It was going to be a disaster from the first off. There’s nothing romantic about it. Shakespeare did a good job leaving everyone dead.”
“Well, not everyone,” John corrected.
“You’re right,” he leveled. “He should have killed the priest and nurse. Clearly, it is not my favorite of his works.”
Garret’s brows rose. “My, you are sunshine personified this morning.”
John sighed dramatically. “Perhaps his pleasant night was disturbed by something.”
“Perhaps,” Damian replied dryly. “Now, are we to talk or whinge here in the foyer? Or do you delicate flowers need more preparations?”
Garret laughed and merely held his hand towards the keep.
They all quickly headed out into the misty, damp morning.
Damn, but it was cold. He clutched the folds of his great coat about himself.
Once, he’d been quite good in the cold. Now? He had gotten used to getting the wet out of his bones. Still, a good, bracing walk would be just the thing. He needed to be invigorated. After all, he had to make a decision about what he was going to do regarding Andromeda and the dreadful turn of events that John had set in motion.
He couldn’t let her think he was only interested in her for her funds. The very idea was appalling. He could have any wealthy woman if he just needed funds. Rockford had made that plain. No, he wanted her, damn it. And no one else would do. He wasn’t entirely sure when that realization had hit him but it was the truth.
In fact, he was going to make damned sure John understood that as well.
So, as they climbed up the ben, heading into the hidden glen the ghillie had mentioned yesterday, he decided to be blunt.
“Lord John, Lord Garret knows already but I’m going to ask Lady Andromeda to marry me.”
“I should hope so,” John sallied as he easily mounted the rugged hillside. “Can’t support sin.”
Garret snorted. “John, you and sin were synonymous before Merry. Even now, you’re part owner in a gambling house.”
“That is not true. I did not cavort with Venuses.” John waggled his brows. “But I do own a gambling house in part. Can’t deny that.”
“You did other things,” Garret drawled. “Possibly worse things.”
“True.” John looked heavenward as if seeking atonement. “I can’t deny that either but I have reformed my wayward nature.”
Damian didn’t miss the roll of Garret’s eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder what sins John had perpetrated.
“Now, back to important matters. She won’t have you, Peterboro,” quipped John.
“Why does everyone say that?” Damian roared.
“Not everyone,” Garret corrected happily, his coattails flying in the wind. “I’m determined to see the match take place.”
“You’ve always been easy to take in, Garret,” John announced.
“Take in?” Garret echoed, clearly affronted. “Take in?”
“Look at our father,” John expounded. “Convinced you Harriet was a money-minded bit of business with no love for you at all. I convinced you I was an absolute lecher. And then you were easily convinced that Harriet was in love with you again.”
Garret grinned, clearly choosing the high road and not be taken in again by his half-brother. “She was in love with me.”
“She didn’t know that,” John drawled. “She thought she hated you. Only wiser heads such as myself knew better. We reminded her of her love for you.”
“This is a very complicated and confusing conversation,” Damian put in, having no idea what in the bloody hell they were talking about.
John grinned. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
Damian refused to acknowledge John’s clear machinations and asked pointedly, “Why are you so convinced, as is Clyde, that she will decline?”
“Bad first marriage,” John said as though it was absolutely self-explanatory, easily climbing over a racing stream no wider than a foot. “She’s no fool. I have difficulty believing she’d chance it again. Perfectly affable men do turn into monstrous husbands, you know.”
Damian scowled. “I can’t argue with that.”
“I’m glad you won’t try,” John said. “And I admire Lady Andromeda. So, I’ll have no nonsense about her.”
At that statement, Damian, as he followed John and Garret over the stream, honestly replied, “I admire her, too.”
“Obviously,” Garret said as he climbed a series of rocky outcroppings just beyond the silver strip of water. “She’s a stunner.”
“No. No,” he protested quickly. “I thought you to be a man of sense. That’s not it, you see. She’s quite nice to look upon, I grant.”
“You grant?” John mocked.
Damian ignored the troublesome earl and continued. “It is her mind and spirit which are so very appealing.”
The other two men grew silent.
“Look,” he said, filling the silence. “I could find a wealthy heiress to marry tomorrow. My brother even offered to provide a list,” he said, the words nearly clogging his throat with distaste.
“Good God,” John scoffed. “Did your brother truly offer that?”
“It’s not so terrible,” Garret defended. “As a duke, he can command a wide array of young ladies to choose from.”
“It is terrible. It’s mad,” John contradicted. “I loathe dukes. Except Clyde. Oh, and our brother. He’s tolerable. Just.”
Garret pinned John with a hard stare. “You only say that because—”
“Because I was born in the East End?” John challenged easily. “God forbid, I should think such arrangement totally mad without being reminded of my plebeian upbringing.”
“You’ve read too much of that lady who wrote Pride and Prejudice,” Garret replied.
“Elizabeth marries the man with the biggest house. How does that contradict what you are saying?” John pointed out.
“Oh.” Garret frowned.
“You should read more,” Damian added.
“I read a great deal,” Garret said indignantly. “I’ll have you know. If I did not, Harriet would have nothing to do with me. I simply haven’t read the lady’s works yet.”
They climbed further up the ben until they found the narrow pathway which led even higher but came out upon a small glen with a waterfall, a pool, and a wider bubbling stream.
As they hit level ground, they strode into the glen, surveying the area.
It was cliché, but his soul soared. He had felt similar experiences in Egypt, traversing the rocky wadis. And though there were no antiquities at hand, this place felt old. Older than the gods which had created the world.
But then he heard it. The wild, panicked sound of an animal trapped. The yipping was horrendous. In fact, it was so harrowing it had the quality of a man being disemboweled.
“What the devil is that?” John demanded, his eyes wide.
“Fox,” Damian supplied. “Obviously, you’ve never gone hunting.”
“I’d rather be drowned in a cesspit.”
Damian nodded. He’d hunted as a child. Sons of dukes did. It didn’t mean he’d liked it. It was simply one more thing he’d left behind when he’d walked away from all he’d ever known so long ago. “I agree. But that’s the sound.”
He searched it out carefully. Wild animals were not to be approached without caution.
And as they came around a grouping of boulders, they spotted the poor beast.
The red fox, a Highland animal he believed, as large as a dog, was twisting and yelping. It was desperately trying to free itself from a rock that had fallen upon its back paw.
Anyone who had never heard such panicked sounds might have been terrified by the primal death dance the animal was doing.
He’d seen creatures take their last breath. And this beautiful creature wouldn’t be one of those, if he could stop it.
So, he took his coat off.
“Gents, we are going to approach slowly,” he said calmly.
John gave him a surprised and approving look. “If you say so.”
“I’m going to throw my great coat over it. Then you two will lift the stone atop its paw.”
The brothers looked at each other, then nodded.
As they drew closer to the fox, its writhing grew more frenzied.
Damian began to speak nonsense to it, in soft, gentle tones.
The small beast’s chest heaved, its eyes wild with fear.
The brothers gripped the massive stone and began to angle it upward, but the stone’s shocking size made the task difficult.
The fox yipped.
Damian cursed, then gently draped his exceedingly thick wool coat over the animal.
As soon as Garret and John maneuvered the rock, Damian leaned down. He held the vast majority of the body tight with the coat, praying the fox couldn’t bite through it, and gently took hold of the animal’s leg.
Carefully, he helped to slip it free from the crevice just before John and Garret had to drop the boulder back.
The animal twisted wildly. Somehow, in its mad relief to be free, its head escaped the great coat and its teeth sank into Damian’s arm.
Then the fox dug its feet into Damian’s chest and vaulted down to the heather, racing off. It paused a good hundred feet away to look back at his saviors and give them a furious glare.
“You’d think it would be grateful.” John tsked.
“Free things are never caught up on what they owe or don’t owe,” Damian said through gritted teeth. The pain was not too terrible yet. “They simply are.”
“Let’s have a look at that arm,” Garret said.
“’Tis nothing,” Damian protested, holding the bleeding wound close to his chest.
“If you insist,” Garret replied. “But I think we should return to the house.”
“Certainly.” Damian scowled, growing discomfort beginning to throb through his flesh. “I need to douse it in spirits to be certain.”
“A dose in and out will do the trick,” John added.
Damian nodded, feeling quite pleased that they had freed the fox. After all, his affinity to free things always made his heart break when they were damaged. Today had been a very good day. Now, he hoped to make it even more pleasing with a visit with Andromeda.
As soon as he got his blasted arm wrapped up.