Lady Arabella's Scandalous Marriage (17 page)

Just as there was so much more to her husband….

Darius’s determination to protect Margaret Wynter from the truth more than proved that. Making her curious as to what else he chose to keep hidden. And why…

‘No,’ she accepted softly. ‘But your kindness as regards your sister-in-law does allow for there being another, softer side to your nature that you choose not to share with Society.’

Darius grimaced. ‘Arabella, please do not attempt to bestow virtues on me where none exist.’

Was that what she was doing? Perhaps. And yet…

‘As for your own family being privy to the truth,’ Darius continued, ‘I believe you will find that Lucian, at least, knows I am not guilty of killing anyone.’

Arabella gave him a startled glance. ‘
Lucian
does?’

Darius had meant only to reassure her, but as he saw the way her eyes darkened with suspicion he accepted that he would have to share
all
the events of seven months ago with her.

‘Grace is Margaret’s niece, and she and Lucian were here at Winton Hall in April when I confronted Francis,’ he explained. ‘Lucian is sworn to secrecy over the matter, but…’He gave a rueful shrug. ‘I doubt, as with most men, he has managed to keep all of the truth from his own wife.’

‘Can that be the reason, do you suppose, that Lucian did not disapprove of our marriage?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Only perhaps?’ she teased.

Darius shrugged taut shoulders. ‘Lucian and I have been acquaintances for many years. He and my nephew Simon were at school together. As such, Lucien stayed here often at Winton Hall when we were all children. We have also passed many an evening together at our clubs, or elsewhere, since we became adults,’ he added dryly.

She had no wish to know the details of this ‘elsewhere’—either in regard to Darius or her brother! ‘In other words, even if Lucian had not been present last April when you confronted Francis, my brother knows you well enough to realise you could not have been responsible for killing either Sophie or George?’

‘As I have said, Arabella, do not bestow virtues on me where none exist!’ Darius insisted. ‘I assure you I am more than capable of killing if I feel that any member of my family, or myself, is being threatened.’

Arabella felt a shiver down the length of her spine as she saw the icy determination in his expression. ‘Perhaps we should not discuss this any further tonight?’ She stood up to cross the room to his side, the slenderness of her body almost touching his much harder one.
‘I need you to hold me, Darius,’ she encouraged gruffly. ‘To hold me close so that I know I am once again safe.’

Darius knew he was lost the moment he looked down into the depths of her warm brown eyes. Her gaze was both direct and vulnerable—a combination guaranteed to captivate. And it certainly did captivate Darius, ensnaring him into experiencing an instant aching sensuality that made even continuing to breathe difficult.

Arabella’s lips were so full and pink, so soft and succulent, and the swell of her breasts moved gently above the low neckline of the blue silk gown as she breathed shallowly. Expectantly. As if waiting for, anticipating the intimacy that would surely follow.

Darius’s gaze moved to the pale creaminess of her throat. Her pulse was a wild flutter just beneath the surface of her smooth and silky skin, that same pulse beating at the delicacy of her temple as his gaze moved slowly across her face. Even as he looked at Arabella her lips parted expectantly, a pouting encouragement that instantly caused his thighs to harden.

‘If I were to hold you now, I cannot guarantee that is all I would do.’ His voice sounded harsh in the tense and expectant silence that now surrounded them.

Her answer was to move closer still, an inviting smile curving those full and swollen lips as she did so. It was a warm and totally trusting smile that cut right to the heart of him.

‘You have already been through so much tonight, Arabella, and I may not be able to be as gentle with you as you need me to be,’ he warned her as his hands reached out to grasp the bare tops of her arms to hold her slightly away from him.

She had suffered a terrifying ordeal this evening, but Darius knew that he felt that fear on her behalf no less sharply. As such, his own emotions were raw and fierce, and he was not sure he would be able to control those emotions if he took her into his arms.

Once the dropped candle and broken necklace had convinced him that she had not left her bedchamber willingly, Darius knew he had behaved like a madman as he’d searched the house from top to bottom in an effort to find her. That heated anger had turned to an icy fury in his chest the moment he’d realised she was no longer in the house, but somewhere outside in the darkness, most probably the prisoner of someone who wished to do her harm. At the very least in the power of someone who thought to wound Darius by taking her from him.

To now have her back, obviously shaken but unharmed, was almost more than he could bear, and if he started making love to her he knew that he was in danger of losing all restraint. Of possibly frightening her with the depth of his need to possess her in an effort to keep her safe from further harm.

She shook her head now. Several of her silky curls had fallen loose about her shoulders during her captivity. ‘It is not gentleness I require from you tonight, Darius.’

His breath caught sharply. ‘Then…what?’

The boldness of her gaze met his unflinchingly. ‘I wish to
feel
, Darius. To experience…everything. Every kiss and every caress.’ She moved to press the softness of her body against him, her breasts a voluptuous crush against his chest. ‘I want to feel all of those things and know that I am truly still alive and safe in your arms.’

A nerve pulsed in his clenched jaw. ‘You may find yourself less safe with me than you would wish!’

She looked totally confident. ‘I do not believe you would ever do anything that might hurt me.’ She lifted one of her hands to trail her fingertips down the hard hollows of his cheek. ‘Take me upstairs and make love to me, Darius. Please!’

He swallowed convulsively, knowing he was not strong enough to withstand her pleading. Yet also knowing, no matter what the cost to himself, that he would do everything in his power to show her the gentleness she needed from him.

He swung her up into his arms and carried her out into the hallway—to find Gideon Grayson standing there, talking to Westlake. Arabella’s arms tightened about his neck and she buried her face against the hardness of his chest as she also saw the two men. The fierce expression on Darius’s face was warning enough for neither man to attempt any further conversation with him tonight.

‘What will they think of me?’ Arabella groaned in embarrassment as Darius carried her effortlessly up the wide staircase.

‘They will think, as I do, that you are a very brave young woman who at the very least deserves to be carried upstairs to her bedchamber,’ he said indulgently.

Her arms tightened about his neck. ‘Your own bedchamber, please, Darius. I cannot—I do not wish to go back into my own room tonight.’

His mouth tightened grimly as he thought once more of the fear Arabella must have suffered when last in her bedchamber. His eyes glittered fiercely as he recalled
her mention of that silencing hand placed across her mouth and the restraining arm about her throat. That she was still alive and safe here in his arms was almost enough to bring Darius to his knees.

As it was, his arms tightened about her as he carried her down the hallway. His own bedchamber was bathed in a golden glow from the single candle that his valet had left burning on the bedside table. A glow that bathed Arabella in that same golden light as Darius placed her carefully on top of the bedcovers.

Her arms remained tightly locked about his neck as she pulled him down with her, his fully clothed body half lying across her own as she raised her mouth to his invitingly.

It was an invitation Darius had no will or desire to resist, and his mouth gently claimed hers, that gentleness blazing into fierce desire as her lips parted beneath his and Darius felt the soft, encouraging stroke of her tongue against his own.

Their kiss was urgent, hungry as they tasted each other. Darius’s hands moved up to cup either side of her face, his body above hers pressing her down into the bed.

Arabella could feel the hard need of Darius’s thighs pushing against her as he kissed her long and deeply. Her hands tangled in the heavy thickness of his hair as she returned the heat of that kiss. There was only the heavy sound of their increasingly ragged breathing to break the silence as they began to throw off their clothes, both of them needing, aching for even closer contact.

Arabella gasped as Darius returned the heavy weight of his naked body to her own. He was burning hot.
Searing. Her nipples hardened like berries against the heat of his chest. Her thighs undulated against the hard length of his arousal and her legs parted in immediate invitation.

‘Yes, Darius!’ she pleaded as he would have pulled back slightly. ‘I need you so very badly.’

‘You are not ready yet, love—’ he broke off with a strangled groan as she thrust her hips upwards to take an inch or two of him inside her.

‘I need you inside me now,’ she moaned urgently.

Her need was enough to send their lovemaking into a wild frenzy as they kissed and touched, caressed, devoured. Arabella felt at that moment as if their hearts and minds were joined in the same way as their bodies, the pleasure rising higher and higher, and then higher still, until they reached the pinnacle together in a hot burst of blinding pleasure.

Darius blew out the candle before falling back onto his pillows with a groan. He took Arabella with him, his arm firmly about her waist as he held her tightly against his side, her head resting on his shoulder as she continued to run a lightly caressing hand across the heated dampness of his chest.

Their silence was companionable, satiated, and as Darius heard Arabella’s breathing start to slow, to deepen, and felt that caressing hand become still against his chest, he knew that she was falling asleep.

Darius wondered if he would ever sleep again. If he would ever again feel able to relax his watchful vigil. His determination to keep her safe was so strong that he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully rest until their enemy was caught. He could not—

‘Darius?’

He glanced down in the moonlight at the pale oval of Arabella’s face, surrounded by those wild golden curls. The heavy weight of her lashes against her cheeks showed him that her eyes were still closed. ‘Yes, love?’

‘Westlake is not really a butler, is he?’ she murmured sleepily.

Darius chuckled huskily before relaxing completely against her and allowing the darkness of sleep to claim them both.

A
rabella was pale but composed as she walked lightly down the staircase of Winton Hall the following morning. Darius had not been beside her when she woke in his bed an hour or so ago, but feeling the warmth of the sheets beside her Arabella realised he had not been gone long, that he had probably left her sleeping so that she might rest as long as possible after her ordeal the previous night. She was also aware that he would want to be up and about early this morning, wanting to see if he could learn any more of her abductor now that it was daylight.

‘I trust you are feeling better this morning, Your Grace?’

Arabella turned to smile at the butler-who-she-was-sure-was-not-a-butler as he appeared in the cavernous hallway below. ‘I am, thank you, Westlake.’

‘His Grace told me to inform you that he will be outside with Lord Grayson for a time.’ The man’s battered face was creased into kindly lines of concern as she stepped down to join him in the reception hall.

She smiled up at him warmly, more than ever convinced—even if Darius’s laughter the previous night had not already confirmed her suspicion—that this man was not what he pretended to be. In fact, she now believed that he had been hired to act as an extra protection against any attacks.

The almost guilty look on Westlake’s battered features as he continued to look at her told her that he was less than pleased with himself at this moment. ‘Would you care to join me for a cup of tea in the breakfast room, Westlake?’ she invited.

He looked stunned. ‘Your Grace?’

‘Please do come,’ she encouraged as she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and smiled up at him mischievously. ‘I am simply longing to know what profession you enjoyed before my husband persuaded you into coming to Winton Hall!’

Darius came to a stunned halt in the doorway of the breakfast room as he beheld his young wife and his butler sitting down at the table, drinking tea together as they chatted like old acquaintances.

Having spent the last two hours unsuccessfully scouring the cobbled courtyard, the stables, and the grounds of the house for any sign as to how last night’s intruder might have got inside, the last thing Darius had expected to find when he decided to join his wife for a late breakfast was Big Tom and Arabella sitting together as if they were the best of friends!

As if sensing Darius’s presence, Arabella ceased talking to glance towards the door. The warmth of the smile she bestowed upon him revealed no lingering
shadow of the fear and distress she had suffered during the previous night’s ordeal.

‘Darius!’ She stood up to cross the room to his side and link her arm companionably with his. ‘Do come and join us. Tom has been regaling me with wonderful tales of his experiences in the fighting ring.’ Her eyes gleamed up at Darius teasingly as he glanced across the room to where Westlake had just risen uncomfortably to his feet.

‘Stay where you are, man,’ Darius urged as he walked further into the breakfast room.

The ex-pugilist gave a self-conscious shake of his head. ‘I’d best be about my duties now that you’ve come back, Your Grace.’ He shot Arabella an awkward grimace before beating a hasty retreat.

Darius smiled. ‘Arabella?’

Her laughter deepened. ‘And to think I had decided yesterday that I must needs talk to you about the unsuitability of the household staff you have employed here!’

Darius shook his head ruefully as he sat down at the breakfast table. ‘I do not believe you will in any way help with the disciplining of that staff when you invite them to take tea with you.’

That laughter still gleamed in the deep brown of her eyes as she strolled over to join him at the table. ‘But Tom has led such an interesting life.’

‘A life the details of which your brothers would all be deeply shocked to learn you have been made privy to,’ Darius groaned.

She chuckled softly. ‘Did you know that Tom won his first fight when he was only thirteen? That he—?’

‘Arabella, please.’ He winced. ‘I assure you, as soon
as this—this situation is resolved, we will see about replacing the servants now presently in our employ with others more suited to the task.’

Arabella paused in sipping her tea. ‘You cannot be thinking of replacing Tom?’ she protested. ‘He confided in me but a few minutes ago that after years of fighting for a living he actually enjoys the work here.’

Darius did not miss the determined light in her eyes. ‘But he has proved time and time again that he has no idea how to be a butler—’

‘Oh, please, Darius!’ She looked across at him imploringly. ‘He is far too old to return to the ring, and I am sure that with a little advice and guidance from me he will soon learn all he needs to of how to be butler in a ducal household.’

Darius had absolutely no doubt that she was well up to the task. That she was capable of doing anything she set her mind to. Their present conversation was also succeeding in keeping her attention diverted from the previous night’s events. He set himself to be deliberately provocative…

‘And what will we do when your brothers visit—especially Hawk, as he surely will, if only to assure himself that I have not done away with his sister!—and they all recognise Tom for who and what he is?’

‘What he
was
,’ Arabella corrected firmly. ‘I think you underestimate my family, Darius. I am sure they will all come to appreciate Tom as I do. Even if they do not, it is of little real import; we are at liberty to choose our own household staff, I trust?’ She looked effortlessly proud—a true duchess.

Darius gazed at her admiringly from between nar
rowed lids. While she was a little pale this morning, she otherwise appeared delicately lovely in a gown of buttercup-yellow. Yet it was a delicacy that Darius knew to be totally deceptive!

‘We will talk on this subject again some other time,’ he said briskly. ‘For the moment we must decide what to do next. I believe it best if you depart for Mulberry Hall after breakfast so that you might stay with Hawk and—’

‘No.’

He quirked one arrogant brow. ‘No?’

‘Absolutely not.’ Arabella met his narrowed gaze unwaveringly, her back and shoulders very straight. ‘I will not be forced into running away, Darius. Into leaving what is now my home.’ She gave a firm shake of her head, blond curls dancing at her nape and temples.

‘And if I insist?’

Arabella looked at Darius speculatively, knowing by the grim set of his face—narrowed eyes, unsmiling mouth, clenched jaw—that he
was
insisting. ‘Then I will have no choice but to try to persuade you otherwise.’

‘Only
persuade
, Arabella?’ Darius’s mouth twitched. ‘That does not sound at all like you!’

‘Yes. Well.’ Arabella’s gaze dropped from that probing blue one. ‘It is not always necessary for us to engage in an argument in an effort to make my own views known.’

Darius gave a disbelieving snort. ‘This is the first I have heard of it.’

She frowned her irritation. ‘Is it any wonder I so often feel the need to disagree with you when you are always so sure you are right?’

He chuckled softly. ‘That is more like the Arabella I have come to know!’

Her cheeks flushed hotly. ‘You are not taking me seriously, Darius.’

‘On the contrary, Arabella, I am taking your involvement in this situation, and in what happened last night,
very
seriously.’ Darius sat forward, his expression once again grim. ‘Hence my suggestion that you travel to Mulberry Hall later this morning.’

‘A suggestion I have already informed you I find totally unacceptable.’

Darius scowled as he saw her stubborn determination in the tilting of her little chin and the firming of her mouth. ‘I am endeavouring to keep you safe, you stubborn baggage.’

‘And if I prefer to remain here with you?’

‘Then, as last night has already proved, you will
not
be safe.’ He stood up to pace the room restlessly. ‘Do not be so ridiculously mulish about this, Arabella. Once I know you are safely ensconced at Mulberry Hall I will be able to concentrate all my energies on apprehending your abductor.’

‘Are you saying that I am a distraction to you?’

He shot her a knowing look. ‘I am saying your presence here is a distraction.’

‘Is that not the same thing?’

No, it was not, Darius acknowledged with a frown. Worrying about Arabella’s safety was a total distraction for his mind. Her presence was a distraction to his body, as he found himself desiring her both day and night! ‘I cannot concentrate on apprehending your abductor if I constantly have to worry that it might happen again. With less satisfactory results.’

‘You mean, that if I am taken again I might be killed?’

Darius had fallen into a satiated sleep the night before, only to awaken suddenly in the darkness minutes later. His arms had tightened about Arabella and they had remained about her all night long as he had lain there awake, holding her safely against him. He’d spent the night imagining someone somehow taking her from him again. Finding her broken and lifeless body after searching for her not just for hours, but for tormented days and nights…

‘It is a risk I am unwilling to take.’

‘But it is not
your
risk, Darius.’ Arabella spoke softly.

His hands clenched at his sides. ‘Of course it is my risk! No matter what our reasons for marrying each other, you are still my responsibility. Mine to protect!’

How awful that Darius should only consider her his ‘responsibility’. His ‘to protect’.

Arabella was aware of exactly what he meant by ‘no matter what our reasons for marrying each other’. Knew that he had to be referring to his belief that she had only married him because he was now a wealthy duke rather than a penniless lord. As for his own reasons for marrying her…

‘Why did you marry me, Darius?’ She looked at him searchingly.

He shot her an irritated scowl. ‘This is hardly the time—’

‘There may not be another time, Darius.’ She shook her head sadly.

A white line of tension appeared beside his thinned lips. ‘That is precisely the reason I am insisting you leave here today.’

‘I have said no.’

‘Arabella—’

‘I will not go, Darius, so you may as well cease repeating yourself. You—’

‘I am sorry to interrupt…’An uncomfortable Gideon Grayson stood hesitantly in the open doorway.

‘What is it, Gray?’ Darius turned to the other man with considerable thanks for interrupting his disagreement with Arabella; she would leave here later this morning if he had to tie her inside the carriage to achieve it!

Gray winced. ‘A rider has just arrived with a letter. From London. He refuses to give it to anyone but you,’ he added tellingly.

Darius looked concerned. ‘Did he say who had sent it?’

‘He refused to tell me that, either,’ the other man revealed.

‘Very well.’ Darius nodded tersely as he walked to the door. ‘Stay here and keep Arabella company, would you?’

‘I am not a child who needs to be watched every minute of the day,’ his wife commented dryly as she overheard his muttered comment to Gray.

Darius turned to look at her. ‘Would you deny our guest the opportunity to eat breakfast?’

Her cheeks flushed at the rebuke. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Then I am sure Gray will be only too happy to keep you company whilst you finish eating your own meal.’ The glittering intensity of his gaze challenged her to defy him again.

‘I had not realised until recently, Lord Grayson, how tedious husbands can be,’ Arabella remarked lightly as she resumed her seat at the breakfast table.

Darius scowled darkly as he saw that Gray was having trouble holding back a smile at his expense. ‘If she tries to leave, Gray, you have my permission to tie her to the chair!’

The younger man looked scandalised. ‘I could not possibly—’

‘I believe my husband is playing with you, Lord Grayson,’ Arabella cut in, taking pity on him. ‘With us both.’ She shot Darius a glare that warned of retribution for his high-handedness.

‘You cannot be so sure of that…’ Darius drawled mockingly, before taking his leave, leaving an awkward silence behind him.

Arabella found herself the focus of the embarrassed gaze of Gideon Grayson. ‘Please do sit down, Lord Grayson.’ She indicated the chair opposite her own that Big Tom had so recently vacated. ‘Darius does so love to tease,’ she remarked casually as she poured him a cup of tea, all the while wondering precisely why this man was still here…‘You stopped here on your way elsewhere, I believe, Lord Grayson? Will your hosts not be concerned by your delay?’

‘Oh, no! Well—I—’

‘You were not on your way to anywhere but Winton Hall, were you?’ Arabella’s shrewd gaze pinned him where he sat.

Gideon Grayson gave an uncomfortable start. ‘I really cannot talk about it, Your Grace.’

‘Call me Arabella,’ she invited. ‘And of
course
you may talk about it. I am Darius’s wife now, and any business that you have with my husband you may also discuss with me.’

The young Lord looked even more ill at ease. ‘I am afraid I cannot. No.’

Exactly as Arabella had expected. Just as she suspected there was much more going on in Darius’s life than he had so far confided in her. ‘Then perhaps you would prefer to discuss the weather, as we did yesterday?’

‘I would, yes.’ His Lordship looked much relieved by the suggestion.

‘Did you and my husband find any evidence this morning of how the intruder could have entered the house yesterday evening?’

‘But—That is hardly the weather, Your Grace!’ He shifted restlessly in the chair.

Arabella gave him a sweetly saccharine smile. ‘I merely asked if
you
would prefer to discuss the weather, Lord Grayson. I did not say
I
intended doing so.’

He gave a reluctant laugh. ‘It is easy to see now that you are indeed Sebastian’s sister!’

Arabella’s smile deepened. ‘You find my youngest brother as amiable as I?’

‘I find he is as full of surprises,’ Lord Grayson contradicted wryly. ‘The most recent, of course, being his marriage to Lady Boyd.’