A Curse of the Heart (28 page)

She removed the pins from her hair; let it tumble around her shoulders. He tried to follow her train of thought, but desire burst forth in all its wondrous glory. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to start again, with you. I want to marry you, Gabriel,” she said moving to the buttons on his waistcoat. “I want to travel to Egypt with you. I want to help you banish the ghosts of the past, starting with this room.”

When she yanked his shirt over his head and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest, he took her mouth in a desperate frenzy. “Have I told you I love you?” he muttered dragging his mouth away to rain kisses down her neck.

“Yes,” she panted, the tips of her fingers grazing his nipples. “But I would like to hear it fall from your lips during the throes of passion.”

“Do that again and I will shout loud enough to wake the pharaohs from their tombs.”

Thank you!

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A Curse of the Heart
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What You Desire
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What You Desire

Anything For Love Series

Book 1

Chapter 1

Sebastian Ashcroft, the fourth Marquess of Danesfield, thrust his hand under the seat and grabbed the mahogany box.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered as the carriage swerved left and right in a bid to shake his pursuers.

Ramming the heel of his boot against the seat opposite to act as a brace, he flicked the catch on the box and removed the pistol before pouring powder into the muzzle and tamping it down with the rod. The scoundrels would make their move before the next turnpike. All he needed was one clean shot to even the odds.

Keeping a firm grip on the loaded weapon, he peered out of the viewing window.

The principal rider wore his collar raised to cover the lower part of his face, his wide-brimmed hat pulled down to shield his eyes. He rode with the deportment of a gentleman. Yet his horse’s dull black coat and clumsy gait led Sebastian to conclude that he’d either been hired in the dark or out of sheer desperation.

Swamped by his driving-coat, the second rider appeared much smaller in frame and also used a hat and some sort of fabric to mask his identity. He was obviously the less experienced as the gentleman kept glancing over his shoulder, urging him to keep the pace and often dropping back to wait.

The possessive act suggested a kinship. Perhaps he was his brother or son … or even his lover.

Sebastian yanked down the window and yelled up to his coachman, Haines. “Stop the carriage.”

“But, my lord,” Haines shouted from his box seat.

“I said stop the carriage.”

As the carriage rattled to a halt, Sebastian threw open the door and jumped down in one fluid movement. Holding his pistol firmly in front of him, he raced around the carriage to greet his assailants.

“You wanted my attention, and now you have it.” Sebastian skidded to a halt, frozen by the sight of the gentleman’s agitated horse. With its teeth bared it snorted loudly, jerking his head up violently and lifting its front legs clean off the ground.

“Stay back. Don’t come a step closer,” the gentleman ordered, pulling the horse's head tightly round to left until its nose almost touched the top of his polished boots. There was an air of authority in the rider’s voice, although his command suggested a level of concern.

The second rider gave a high-pitched shriek and slapped a gloved hand over the fabric to mask any further sound.

The elegance and mastery with which the gentleman settled his horse confirmed he was a skilled rider and most definitely of good breeding, which made the whole encounter even more puzzling.

Sebastian aimed his pistol at the gentleman. “If you’re lucky enough to escape without my bullet in your back, your horse will be the death of you.”

“Let us hope I’m fortunate enough to escape both,” the gentleman sneered with a level of arrogance often demonstrated in elite circles.

“Even if that were possible, the punishment for robbing a member of the nobility is death. You’ll both hang.”

“I doubt it.”

There was something familiar about the man’s arrogance and polished repartee. Perhaps it was time to make things a little more interesting, Sebastian thought, and so aimed his pistol at the second rider who’d sat motionless throughout the whole exchange.

“Get down,” Sebastian said. A quick glance at the shapely thighs encased in a pair of breeches confirmed his suspicion. The rider was a woman.

Alarmed, her head shot up in the direction of her associate, whose confident countenance had dissolved into a look of pure panic. Sebastian could feel the tension in the unspoken words passing back and forth between them.

“He … he cannot hear you. He’s deaf.”

Sebastian smiled to himself. “That is unfortunate,” he said feigning surprise. “If he’s deaf you must be blind. If I’m not mistaken, he is definitely a she, and this is the most ridiculous robbery I have ever had cause to witness. You’re not even armed.”

Sensing his master’s irritation, the horse became restless once again, shuffling backward and pawing the ground as though the earth had started crumbling away beneath him and he was unsure where to place his feet.

The gentleman muttered an angry curse.

Suppressing a grin, Sebastian took the opportunity to press him further. “What sort of man allows a woman to act as his right-hand in a robbery? You obviously care little for her welfare.”

“It was certainly not my idea,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Trying to get her to listen to anything I say is like … like trying to trap lightning in a blasted bottle.”

Sebastian could not hide his amusement. He could not recall the last time he laughed aloud. In the last six years, he had been involved in many dangerous encounters, but this one had to be the most bizarre encounter of his entire life. To Sebastian’s surprise, the gentleman sniggered, too.

“How dare you laugh at me,” the woman scolded. Straightening her back, she appeared much more robust than Sebastian first thought. She’d yanked down her disguise to reveal a pert little nose and a pair of rosy pink lips. “And if you think I’m going to sit here any longer and be ridiculed for … for caring … for wanting to make sure you didn’t end up dead in a ditch.”

She swung her horse around, dug her heels in and cantered off across the field towards a small wooded area in the distance.

“For heaven’s sake, Annabel, wait,” the gentleman cried. “Damn it, woman. Do you want me to shout your name out for all to hear?”

Sebastian studied the man’s frustrated countenance and almost felt sorry for him. “Now it’s just the two of us, let’s get back to this business of robbery.”

The gentleman sighed loudly. “This is not a blasted robbery,” he said, his gaze flitting back and forth between Sebastian and the woman in the distance.

“Then why in hell’s name were you following my carriage?” Sebastian asked, his gaze also following the woman until she’d safely entered the woods.

The gentleman swung his horse around ready to ride out in pursuit. “You may lower your pistol for I am here on an errand.” With one hand gripping the reins, he reached inside his greatcoat and removed a red velvet pouch. “Here, take this.” He threw it down and Sebastian caught it with his free hand. “I trust you’ll keep it safe. And if this damn horse kills me, you’ll know what to do.” The gentleman straightened and raised the brim of his hat. “And I suggest you get some sleep, Dane. Your eyes are as red as the Devil’s.”

Only his closest friends called him Dane.

Sebastian stared at the familiar face. “Beaufort?” he said, wondering why his friend felt it necessary to conceal his identity.

“And keep an eye on Sophie for me. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Before Sebastian could utter another word, Beaufort galloped off across the field as though his life depended on it and disappeared into the woods.

Sebastian just stood there, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. Had it not been for the piece of red velvet lying in his palm, he would have believed he’d drifted off to sleep and imagined the whole damn thing.

As he strolled around to the carriage door, he glanced up at Haines’ hulking figure perched on his box seat like a stuffed bear. “It’s always good to know that when trouble strikes, I can count on your assistance.”

“I thought you were handling things just fine, my lord,” he replied, keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead.

Sebastian arched a brow. “And you knew that without even moving a muscle.”

Haines turned to face him, his weather-beaten face expressionless. “Like you said when you hired me, my lord. People see what they want to see. Just ‘cause you didn’t see me move doesn’t mean I wasn’t leaning over the top of the carriage pointing a pistol of my own.”

Sebastian grinned. His man had a fair point.

“Perhaps it’s time I started listening to my own advice,” he said looking out across the field before turning back to Haines. “Did the whole thing not strike you as rather odd?”

“Can’t say as I can ever remember being chased by masked riders desperate to give me something,” he said pushing the front of his hat up to scratch the top of his head. “And looking at the piece of cloth in your hand I’d say it’s something right important.”

Lost in thought, Sebastian stared at the velvet pouch, his attention caught by the initials
R.B
embroidered in golden thread.

The sound of a cart rattling down the road disturbed his reverie and Haines gave a polite cough.

“Beg your pardon, my lord, but I think we need to be on our way. We’ve got a good day’s journey ahead, and there’s no telling what state the road’s in.”

“Very well,” Sebastian sighed, unable to resist one last glance over his shoulder.

He had missed Beaufort during the six years he’d been away. He had missed his witty banter and arrogant drawl, and he felt a stab of guilt for being absent during, what was obviously, a time of great need.

Returning to his carriage, Sebastian placed the pistol in the box, settled back against the leather seat and untied the string on the velvet pouch. There was another roll of velvet inside, and he opened it to reveal an elaborate gold and ruby necklace.

He had seen many enchanting things on his travels but had never seen anything quite like this. The chain consisted of a row of identical oval rubies encased in gold and joined together by a fine filigree design. It was so intricate and delicate in detail that it could have been spun by a spider. Transfixed by its beauty, Sebastian simply stared at it.

Why would Beaufort give him such a precious antiquity?

Perhaps his creditors were chasing his heels and he wanted to hide the heirloom. It would certainly explain the shabby state of his horse. Yet he knew Beaufort still owned the estate next to his and he’d not been told of any money worries.

The thought of going home to Westlands brought a hard lump to his throat, and he swallowed deeply in an attempt to dismiss the years of guilt.

The past no longer mattered.

All the years of pain and hard work had been worth it. His estate was thriving. Now, he intended to take his rightful place, to relax and enjoy the peace and tranquillity.

He glanced down at the necklace in his hand, the weight of its burden pressing down on his shoulders. Whatever problem Beaufort had, he could not get involved. Then he felt the familiar stirring in his chest, the thrum of excitement that always lured him towards dangerous and mysterious escapades.

Damn it.

The quicker his friend returned to claim the pretty necklace, the better.

Chapter 2

“Mr. Potts, I think he’s here, Mr. Potts.”

Sophie Beaufort watched the old woman scurry out through the door behind the glass counter and then continued to examine the box of ribbons.

“Your mother seems rather excited today,” she said, pulling out a length of red satin.

She did not need new ribbons, or threads, or buttons, but her regular walks to the village made the days seem shorter.

“She has been like it all morning,” Emily said shaking her head. “She thinks the marquess is going to come in and buy her whole stock of gloves. I’ve told her he probably buys all his apparel in London, but you know how she gets.”

Sophie swallowed a few times hoping it would help to correct the problem with her hearing. “I thought I heard you say the marquess,” she chuckled. She really was spending far too much time on her own.

“I did.” Emily bent down, removed another draw and placed it on top of the glass counter. “I know how you hate to tie it up, but I think the forest green would look wonderful with your ebony hair.”