Chapter 14
She didn’t feel the pain, but the look on Lord Blackthorn’s face startled her.
Clearly something was wrong.
He looked at her neck and she touched it and lifted her fingers to see blood. Not much, but blood nonetheless. That horrid man must have done it when he captured her and threatened to hurt her. Strange, she didn’t feel the pain. It must be from the shock of it all.
Inside the carriage, Lord Blackthorn pulled out his handkerchief from an inside coat pocket. “Don’t move,” he said. Using the white cloth with his initials on it, he wiped away something on her neck.
She leaned in and a whiff of his earthy, delicious scent invaded her senses, and without thinking, she glided her hand up his warm neck, then up further to run her fingers through his hair. His gaze lifted to meet hers and he leaned in just a little. Closer. Closer again to inspect the cut. Then, he kissed her.
This kiss wasn’t what she’d expected. His lips were warm and soft, everything opposite of what she saw in him. The delicious taste of his lips burst in her mouth. Slick and warm. This kiss was slow and more persuasive than she cared to admit, filling the hollow in her heart. Oh God, she’d never imagined a simple kiss could arouse such sinful thoughts in her.
Pressing tenderly against her, he gently shifted to get closer to her, and she welcomed it. Oh, if only he knew how much she liked this. Her arms slid inside his coat and felt the warmth of his body, his muscles flexing beneath her hands. She knew this man who was kissing her was tall and broad shouldered, but he was also muscled and well defined, and she was too curious for her good. For now, she didn’t care. She slid her hands up to feel his hard chest against her palms as her hands explored the newfound planes of his torso.
She wanted to see him in all his naked glory. The shock of her own sinful thoughts sobered her. What was she doing? This could not continue. Then why wasn’t she moving away from him? She told herself to stop. His mouth continued to explore hers as if exploring a new land, and yet there was something very protective about his kiss that made her want to melt into him.
Then, he slowly pulled away just as easily as he had kissed her.
Dizzying sensation slowly faded, and it took her a moment to find her voice. “Why did you do that?” The expression on his face made her regret what she’d said. God, if there was a way to kill an intimate moment, she just did a great job of it. But none of this was about romance; quite the opposite. This was a business transaction, she reminded herself.
“You seemed to need it,” he said, his eyes still burning with need.
She raised her brow in question. He rose and pulled away the cloth that was stained with blood. Her blood.
“It looks like he dug his finger into your neck,” he said. “We will need to clean it, but you will be all right.”
“All right, but I don’t want to return home. Not yet,” she said. “I need some air, some distraction.” She had only been in the prison for maybe thirty minutes at the most, yet she’d felt quite affected and suffocated in there. Seeing the children in the prison had been the hardest. Besides, the intimacy between them and the kiss confused her and she needed to clear her head.
“I am at your disposal until this evening.”
“Will you be away this evening, then?” she said. He’d mentioned he would insist on making certain of her safety, no doubt as insurance, but perhaps he had other plans.
“The appointment will only be an hour, two at most.”
“I don’t understand how you plan to get into my house.”
“That isn’t something you need to worry about.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I should.” Exactly what had he done in the army?
He ignored her question. “We have some time. Why don’t I show you the property and we’ll get some fresh air. I think it will do us some good.”
She had a feeling he needed a change of scenery too. Being in this carriage with this man, just the two of them, felt all too precarious, and left her wanting. Not a good thing, indeed.
For the next hour, they barely spoke, which was a little strange. But she needed to think, and this silence helped her. He only provided some quick answers to her questions regarding the landscape and London. Meanwhile, he rested his head and closed his eyes, sleeping. How could he sleep after a kiss like that?
The dark, ominous clouds slowly rolled in as the carriage closed in on the property. The breathtaking view reaffirmed her will to make this transaction happen. Once the carriage drove up the driveway, the horses came to a stop by the large wooden front door.
Lord Blackthorn helped her out of the carriage. Chilly air pricked her skin. She rubbed her hands on her arms to ward off the cold as she gazed up at the three-story Somersby Hall. Looking at the large dormer windows on the facade, she imagined herself in the parlor with plenty of natural light streaming into the house. The property was surrounded by green valleys and lush trees—plum trees and oaks that had a sense of peace.
The outgrowing of ivy creeping up the red brick walls reminded her of days when she had visited here. It would need trimming soon, but she may decide to keep it. Why on earth anyone would want to sell this property was beyond her, but it would be to her benefit, so she would not question it.
It was happening. Really happening. She wished Kate could be here to see this place.
She let out a long sigh of relief that was followed by hope that swelled in her heart and made her nearly choke with joy.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered to herself. She looked at Lord Blackthorn, who was watching her most curiously. “What is it?” The hard look in his eyes softened, and there was a vulnerability about him that made her heart squeeze.
Her fingers twitched, begging to stroke the lovely silk of his dark hair. His loose curls danced in the wind, she saw him smile which seemed to ease her troubles. It was a wide, devilish, handsome smile, and it revealed a diagonal scar, about an inch long, that ran down his temple. She wondered where he’d procured such an injury. War, perhaps? This man made her want things, wish for things that were not possible for her. The last time she’d thought she was in love, terrible things had happened, and a good man had paid the price for her selfishness.
“What do you plan to do with this place?” he said without answering her question.
“Make it a home,” she said. “For Millie and me.” She watched Lord Blackthorn, who seemed deep in thought.
“Home,” he said. “A good dream.”
It was her dream. One that she planned to see to fruition, if it was the last thing she did. She wanted to ask him what he planned to do once they parted ways but decided against it. The less she knew about him the better, she reminded herself again.
Millie came to mind. She would love this place. The woman in prison had said Millie was with child. Suddenly, thinking back to the night at the alley, Amelia remembered the woman she had attempted to help had been with child, and she had been angry too. Surely, she would have said something if it was Millie. Why wouldn’t she?
“Perhaps later we can ride out to see the estate.”
“Ride?” she said with uncertainty. “Oh, I am not sure if that is a good idea.”
“Why not?” he said. “I would think some fresh air would do us some good.”
“I . . . um . . .” she started. “I don’t know how.”
He blinked, then raised his brow. “I see.” He frowned, then his frown eased into a knowing gaze. “You’ve never learned?”
“My grandmother didn’t feel it served her purpose.” She saw the curiosity in those eyes, eyes that sometimes made her want to melt into them. She’d said too much. “It is a generous offer.”
“What purpose was that?” he asked.
She said nothing for a few seconds, could think of nothing to say and was afraid she had revealed too much already. He watched her intently. There was something in his eyes that made her want to share her dreams, her pain, with him.
“I was bred with one goal, to wed a man with a title and status in Society.”
His eyes softened. “I see.”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
He stared at her, his hard, stony features once again softening. “Like what?”
“Like some lost, pathetic woman who needs rescuing.” She paused to look away at the house. “I just felt that you deserved an answer.”
“Did she hurt you?”
She almost chuckled out loud. Had her grandmamma hurt her? Emotionally and physically, yes. The daily abuse had been like daily meals. On schedule. Every day.
“You can trust me,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I will never hurt you.”
His tone was filled with reassurance, and she stopped and reached out to touch his warm cheek. For several seconds, neither of them looked away. The distance between them seemed to dissolve, leaving the world behind. His gaze was soft as a gentle caress and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Come, it’s never too late to learn to ride,” he said softly. “There is nothing to it.”
“It’s thoughtful, but no.” She watched him study her, and she knew she was not going to win this one.
“You can ride with me to get used to the animal.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he quickly said, “Besides, it’s a big property and you will not be able to scour the land on foot on your own.”
She frowned, but something tickled in her chest. Within a few minutes of walking to the stables together, he readied the horse. It was a beautiful beast with a black flowing mane and muscles that flexed when it shifted its weight side to side.
He told her to put her foot on the stirrup and helped her up onto the beast’s saddle where she held on for dear life, while he swiftly got on behind her as if he had done it all his life. He held the reins and clicked his tongue to get the horse moving. The warmth of Blackthorn’s body behind her made her feel safe and secure. His large hand wrapped around her midsection and held her.
At first, they rode in a slow trot. He must have felt her discomfort because he prompted her to lean back on him. “Relax,” he said softly. “I have you.”
They rode on the big black stallion together, her back to the warmth of his chest. He had one hand cupping her waist while the other hand controlled the reins.
“Are you comfortable?”
“I think so,” she said. The wind picked up and chilled her face. As if reading her thoughts, he shifted behind her, pulling his coat off. In one fell swoop, he put the coat on her.
“Better?” she heard him say in a low voice. The dizzying sensation of his warm coat and his intoxicating scent left her speechless.
After several minutes passed, she relaxed into him. Neither of them spoke. This kind of intimacy felt strange to her, and the warmth of him seemed to ease her tension as the hard planes of his body pressed against hers. This kind of intimacy made it all the more difficult for her to concentrate on what he was saying to her.
The green vastness was simply breathtaking. About half a mile away, she saw houses close together dotting a dirt road that went through the town. This was the town he must have been speaking about. She must take the time to visit these people once the property became hers.
“The townspeople,” he said, stopping the horse on the hill overlooking the town, “they will be your tenants. There are fifteen families and you will have to look after their welfare when they seek your help. They will, in turn, provide a portion of their crops for the season.” He took a deep breath, then continued as she listened. “My brother insisted on keeping the rent low and did not collect from those that were unable to pay.” He paused as if he were thinking about something important. “He was a generous soul.”
She sensed melancholy in his voice, but there was a touch of something else she could not define. She nearly opened her mouth to ask further about his brother but closed it. It’s none of your concern, she thought. The less you know of him, the better.
“You remind me of him,” he said softly.
She felt a tug in her heart. She would allow herself to feel, but at what cost? In the end, she knew nothing good could come of these feelings that were so unpredictable. The sacrifice was too great.
“You are tense,” he said. “What is wrong?”
She felt his grip tighten, as if to protect her from whatever ailed her. With her back firmly against his hard chest, she was nestled between his legs. Strange tingles glided over her skin. She liked this feeling, this tenderness, but she’d never dare admit it to another soul.
“Nothing is wrong.”
“I will not break your confidence.”
“This place . . . it brings back a lot of memories for me.”
“Oh?” he said, waiting.
“When I was a child,” she started, “I used to come here and play among the ruins.”
“This was your sanctuary?” His voice was warm and soothing in her ears.
“Yes, it was.” She quickly chided herself for her sentimentality. No schedules. No man, or woman, for that matter, dictating how to walk, where to go, and how to behave. To breathe the air and know that she was free to choose her own path, a place to call home—her home.
“Is that why you want this property?” he asked.
She allowed the wind to cool her heated body. As it was, his crotch pressed hard on her buttocks when the horse swiftly climbed a low hill. “It’s part of it,” she said. Did her voice crack?
She felt him lean into her and he tilted her chin up with his hand to force her to look at him. Then, quite naturally, he kissed her cheek.
His soft lips lingered close to hers for a moment, and their gazes locked. His eyes were on fire, and before she knew what she was doing, their lips touched, igniting desires that soothed and frightened her at the same time. She could really fall deep the way he was looking at her.
When she tried to look away, his large hand held her chin. He reclaimed her lips, and she didn’t stop him. She didn’t want to stop him. The wall she had built up to protect herself slowly melted away, crumbling brick by brick. She needed to touch him. Feel him. Before her mind had grasped what she was doing, he kissed her again, tasting and exploring, setting her body on fire, and she melted into him. She wanted to feel him, all of him, and when he embraced her with his strong arms, she slid her arm up the curve of his neck.
He slowly pulled away. “I like you like this.”
It took a moment for her to realize he had stopped kissing her. Still drunk with his touch and the feel of his lips on hers, she opened her eyes. For a man of his size and strength, she would have never expected how gentle he was. The flicker of fire in his eyes burned hot.
Something shifted in her. This comfort and warmth felt so good that she had lost herself in his touch. Still, she fought her emotions, because she could not afford to have these kinds of feelings for a man that she would not allow in her life.
Her cheek burned from his touch. “Why did you do that?” He’d been kissing her a lot today. This sort of intimacy must stop.
“Is it wrong to kiss my fiancée?”
“This arrangement is not permanent. It’s a means to an end.”
His brows quirked in amusement. “You should know, women actually enjoy my company.”
“I am sure they do,” she said, purposely curt.
“Just because this arrangement is temporary, it doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other.”
“Just exactly what do you mean by that?”
He seemed to study her words and tone for a moment. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“I think I’m feeling a bit chilly. I’d like to head back to the house now if you don’t mind.”
“All right.” With that, he steered the horse back to the stables without another word.
She had so much she wanted to ask him about the estate. And why was he kissing her and making her confused? She must give him firm boundaries; otherwise, this could easily get too complicated. After all, the only reason he was here was because of her money, and she should do well to remember that the next time he kissed her.
No, there won’t be a next time, she chided herself.
When they arrived at the stables, he stepped down. He held her waist firmly and helped her down slowly, the tip of her bosom touching his chest. The intimacy between them made her warm inside. Damn his gorgeousness and that solid, towering body of his.
“Here.” She pulled off the delicious-smelling coat and gave it to him.
“I’ll give you a quick tour of the house, then give you time to look around on your own after.”
There was a change between them, the way he kept his distance. This was good, she told herself.
Amelia followed the earl into the house. The interior of the house was better than she had imagined it. The dilapidated building had been transformed. The sweeping double staircase was simple, yet elegant.
“It's not grand, but it has its charm. My brother purchased it for his wife . . .” He paused, as if deciding if he should say more on the matter. “I must insist all the servants remain here. They have been with us for a long time and some do not have anywhere else to go. I gave them the day off to give you the freedom to roam the house. This way,” he said, leading her to the stairs.
Her opinion of the earl softened when he made the comment about the servants. Day off? Her grandmother would have lashed out if any of her servants mentioned a day off. This man was proving to be a good man, which made it all the more difficult to not like him.
Amelia saw the earl's expression change, as if he were recalling a distant memory. Ah, it must be his deceased brother, but she didn’t care to question him further. The less she knew about this man, the better, she told herself for the umpteenth time today. “I can see why he loved it.”
“It was his wife that fell in love with this property.”
“Where is she now?”
“She went back home to live with her parents. Why don’t I give you time to look around? When you are finished here, come fetch me at the stables.”
She felt a heaviness in him, so she thanked him and watched him leave. She needed to think and plan, and it was nearly impossible to do so with him near. When he strolled out of the house, she walked up the grand stairs that looked to be made of mahogany. Before her were grand paintings in the center and two smaller parallel paintings on each side. The center was a scene of a great battle, one that she wasn’t familiar with. The smaller painting to her left was of a woman—young, but she carried an expression of melancholy. Below her was a painting of a young boy. To the right of the center painting was a picture of a man, quite handsome and with very similar features to Lord Blackthorn. Was he his brother? Her grandmother had given her all the information about the men on the list she was to choose a husband from and their brief histories. She knew Blackthorn had lost many family members while he was out of the country and that his father had left him with debt.
Now, being here, she felt a connection to the earl that made her want to reach out and soothe his suffering. Shaking off the senseless thoughts, she focused on the task at hand. Looking around the grand house, she walked up the stairs.
It took about an hour to walk through the house. She couldn’t help but wonder why he would want to sell this place. There were two master bedrooms, four large guest rooms, and a private family parlor. Servants’ quarters were on the top floor, which she didn’t enter.
One could have surmised that the owner had taken pride in designing the house. The details were beautiful, with an ornate cornice above the decorative frieze in each room. A Greek-inspired marble mantel framed the hearth in the parlor on the ground floor. She looked up and saw the Rococo ceiling with baby blue and white birds and angels dancing about, and the chandelier swooped downward like a waterfall.
Her chest squeezed. Soon, very soon, all this would be hers. With quiet calm, as if the sea had settled after a storm, she walked out of the house and to the stables where Blackthorn was waiting for her.
There, she saw him with the beautiful black stallion. His coat was off and hung on the tip of a rake. His sleeves were rolled up several inches. His hands were gentle on the stallion as he brushed him, murmuring something all the while to the beast.
“Did you get to look around a bit?” he asked without looking at her.
“I did,” she said. “I didn’t have a chance to thank you for the flowers you sent.”
"I hope I have sufficiently convinced Mrs. Pots."
So, the gesture had merely been to convince her chaperone of his affection for Amelia. “Of course,” she said soberly. “I fear she is too clever. She watches me like prey every minute of the day and reports back to my grandmother.”
“Then I shall have to endeavor to make certain she has no doubt in her mind about us.” He turned to put the brush away and walked to her. “Shall we practice?” he said with a lift of his brow. He took her hand and kissed it. “So there isn’t a doubt in her mind.”
Her breath caught. Damn, those seductive eyes. She allowed his lips to linger longer than necessary. Her gaze lowered, but not before she saw him looking at her. His gaze boldly raked over her lips, her neck, and down to her bosom. Her heart quickened, racing more by the minute. Then, before she knew what was happening, he pulled back.
The dark clouds had rolled in fast, and the loud thunder seemed to be getting close. She needed to head back to town if she was going to beat the rain. But she feared that it may be too late.
“Storm is coming,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked up. “Shall we go inside?”
All her life, no one had done anything purely for her consideration. He had managed it twice. Not even her own family would have done that. Could this man be any more perfect? If he had any faults, she couldn’t see them at the moment. If there were such a man, he’d fit that profile without error.
She watched him roll his sleeves down and pull his coat back on. They walked quietly back to the house, and she welcomed the silence. Once ensconced, he led her to the parlor and started a fire.
“How many servants are there?” she said, trying to shift the focus away from them.
“There is a butler and a housekeeper, two footmen, two maids, a cook, and a scullery maid. The groundskeeper lives in a small cottage near the stables. The stable hand is his son-in-law.” He added, looking at his surrounding, “As you can tell, it’s minimally furnished, as my brother and his wife didn’t get to finish decorating it.”
He must miss his brother. Her grandmother had informed her before departing for London that his brother Max had always been fragile from birth, but she’d never spoken of his wife. Not that it was any of Amelia’s concern, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be sympathetic. “I am sorry about your brother.”
His gaze rose and met hers, softening with a faint smile. The thunder rumbled outside. “The storm,” he whispered, looking out the window.
“Yes,” was all she could muster. Judging by the dark clouds, she was going to be stuck with this man, she thought with conflicting emotions.
“I don’t think we will be getting back home anytime soon.”