Miss Frazer's Adventure (16 page)

What was a bit of trespassing between ex-fiancés?

Wincing at every creaking floorboard and silently cursing his heavy boots, which were not at all suited to sneaking about darkened corridors, he made his way toward the east wing of the house. He vaguely recalled Kate once mentioning that her chamber overlooked the rose garden, which would place it at the end of the long corridor. Halting at the last door, he paused. He could only hope that she had not changed rooms and, of course, that she was currently alone.

To simply enter the chamber was a risk, certainly. If he happened in upon Sir Frazer, it would be a bloody scandal.

And he was not wedding Lord Frazer, no matter what his fortune, he assured himself in a lame attempt to lighten the ball of terror lodged in the pit of his stomach.

Feeling more uncertain and fearful than he had ever before in his life, Luce forced his stiff hand to rise and turn the knob. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold. A swift glance revealed the large bed was empty, as was the chaise beside the window. It was the faint glow of a candle that at last drew his attention to the distant corner where Kate was seated before a mirror as she slowly brushed out the titian curls.

In the flickering light, she might have been a siren rising from the shadows. Her skin was a pure alabaster revealed in glorious perfection by the brevity of her linen shift, her eyes were a mysterious green in the reflection, and her satin curls a halo of flame.

Luce felt his world halt.

He could not move. Could not speak. He forgot even to breath.

Then, as if sensing his presence, Kate slowly turned to regard him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Luce?” she whispered.

Clearing his deranged thoughts enough to close the door, Luce uneasily moved to the center of the room. Beyond the predictable shock at his improper intrusion into her chamber, it was impossible to determine if she was pleased or horrified by his presence.

At last coming to a halt, he forced himself to glance about the elegant room. Anything to keep from staring at her like a lovesick fool.

Surprisingly, there was little of Kate to be seen. Oh, the furnishings were all suitably expensive and situated in the proper positions, but the personal frills and baubles that inevitably littered his sisters' rooms were oddly missing.

“Do you know this is not at all what I expected from your bedchamber? It is very . . .”

“Dull?” She supplied in oddly bitter tones. “Predictable? Boring?”

He slowly turned to face her, his body instinctively tightening as an avalanche of unwelcome sensations assaulted him.

He sternly reined in his unruly emotions.

“Impersonal. Do you not have any paintings or mementos that women always use to clutter their surroundings?”

She shrugged. “I have never felt the need to trouble with such things.”

Of course, he thought with a sharp pang. A woman only fussed and altered a place she considered her own. To Kate, this estate had been her father's domain. For her, it was more a place of confinement than a home.

“I suppose you have not,” he said softly, his gaze drifting over her wary countenance. “This chamber has never truly belonged to you, has it, Kate?”

She blinked, as if startled by his insight, and then, with jerky movements, she moved toward a chair to grasp her night rail and pulled it over her thin shift.

“You should not be here, Luce. If anyone were to discover you . . .”

“I do not care if all of England were to discover me here.” He stepped forward, his expression somber. “I have to know why you returned to Kent.”

Her breath caught at the abrupt question. “What?”

“Why did you return home?”

“I . . .” She wrapped her arms about her waist, her expression uncertain. “I realized that I could not hide forever.”

Luce arched a disbelieving brow. “Perhaps not forever, but Lord Thorpe was quite eager to afford you several more weeks of unabated freedom at his ducal estate. Why did you toss that aside?”

She licked her lips in an uneasy manner. Good, he thought with grim satisfaction. He damn well hoped she was perturbed and utterly unbalanced. He was tired of batting his head against her well-erected barriers.

“I discovered that I missed Julia. She has always been like a sister to me.”

His eyes narrowed at the patent lie.

“You could have requested that she join you in Devonshire,” he pointed out with indisputable logic. “No doubt she would have been delighted to mix among the most elite of society.”

“For goodness' sakes, Luce, does it matter why I returned?” she demanded in tight tones.

“It does when your return also includes a visit to Calfield Park.” He took a step closer, his gaze capturing her own with a relentless intensity.

Her eyes darkened as she crossed her arms. Luce bit back a groan as the soft curves of her bosom were prominently displayed by the deep vee of her robe.

“If you do not wish me to return to Calfield Park, you only have to say so, Luce. I assure you I did not intend to disturb you.”

With an effort, he wrenched his hungry gaze from the temptation beneath the soft linen. “I never believed that you did, but I am intrigued at your reasons for seeking me out. When I left London, I was under the impression that you never desired to speak with me again.”

Surprisingly, her eyes shimmered with sudden tears before she abruptly turned from his searching gaze.

“I told you . . . I was concerned.”

With his heart racing, Luce reached out to grasp her shoulders and relentlessly turned her to face him. He had not been mistaken about the tears. His hand moved of its own accord to gently cup her face.

“Kate.”

“What?”

“Tell me. Why?”

She gave a shake of her head. “Please, go away, Luce.”

“Did you regret the way we parted?”

“I . . . that's ridiculous.”

Luce gave a humorless laugh, nearly driven mad by the sweetly familiar scent of her. Dear heavens, he could drown in that tantalizing aroma.

“I suppose it is,” he said in self-mockery. “Just wishful thinking I suppose.”

She stilled at his revealing words. “What did you say?”

His lips twisted. “Do not give me that wide-eyed look, Kate. You know how desperately you bewitched me. Did you think I possess no heart? That I walked away without another thought of how you made me laugh, how you made me enjoy your ridiculous adventures, how you fit into my arms as if you had been created just for me?” He gave a disgusted shake of his head. “For God's sake, I thought we were at the very least friends.”

She flinched as if she had been slapped. “We are friends.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “Then heaven help your enemies.”

“I am sorry that you were forced to sell your business—”

“Dammit, this is not about my bloody business, or dowries, or crumbling estates,” he interrupted angrily. “It is about us. Are you sorry you forced me out of your life?”

He felt the shudder that raced through her body.

“I had to.”

His hand moved to tangle in the satin softness of her hair. “Of course. A brief flirtation and then on to the next adventure.”

“No,” she whispered. “It was not like that.”

“Oh yes, I was also the scheming, conniving lecher who was determined to seduce you back to an engagement you detested.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “I wanted you to leave because . . .”

“Yes?”

“Because I could no longer pretend that I was not falling in love with you. And to be honest, I could not bear a broken heart.”

He froze in disbelief. “What did you say?”

“I think you heard me.”

“You love me?”

She abruptly struggled to free herself. “Please just go away, Luce.”

“Never,” he swore, his arms wrapping about her wriggling form to haul her firmly against his body. After days of black despair, she was not moving an inch from his embrace. Dropping kisses upon her face, he allowed a wary joy to slowly fill his heart. “My God, I have ached for you for weeks. You have haunted my dreams, distracted my days. I cannot sleep or work or even eat. Every time I close my eyes, I can still smell you. And I have called for my carriage a dozen times to come and bring you home where you belong, only to realize that I could not force you to want to be with me.”

A choked moan escaped her lips. “Luce?”

He captured her lips in a deep searching kiss before pulling back to regard her with a stern expression

“And do not dare accuse me of wanting you back for your damn dowry. For all I care you can tell your father to toss his money down the nearest well. All I want is you.”

Her lips curved into a tremulous smile. She looked amused and bemused and utterly adorable.

“But what of your estate?”

Luce experienced a brief pang of guilt that he had ever considered taking this woman for the sole purpose of acquiring her wealth.

“I told myself nothing was more important than ensuring the future of my family and estate. And I was quite prepared to take the easy path to do so. Oh, I tried to convince myself I was committing a great sacrifice to marry wealth, but it was no more than an excuse to avoid making the difficult choices. It was not until you refused to offer your trust that I realized I was behaving no better than my parents. I desired someone else to solve my troubles rather than facing them on my own.”

“And now?”

He slowly smiled. “Now I accept that whatever sacrifice I may make to restore my estate, none could be greater than marrying some maiden who is not you. No one could ever replace you in my heart.” He gazed deep into her wide eyes. “I love you, Miss Kate Frazer. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Without warning, she threw her arms about his neck and pressed herself even closer to his hard form. Luce clutched her tiny body, his senses filled with her warm sweetness.

“I love you,” she said simply.

Luce briefly wondered if his heart might actually burst from sheer happiness.

“But what of your desire for daring adventures and independence?” he forced himself to ask the question that still haunted him.

She offered him a brilliant smile. “I have discovered that a life of endless adventures can be as dull as one of endless duty.”

“No more adventures?”

“Oh, I did not say that,” she corrected, with a glint in her eyes. “I still want to experience new delights. Perhaps as a roguish pirate, you might have a few suggestions?”

Luce gave a low growl as he pressed her against his trembling form. The delights he conjured were enough to make his knees weak and his head spin.

“You are sure? I have nothing to offer but my name and a decidedly uncertain future.”

“Oh, yes.”

With a slow tenderness, he explored her lips, barely able to believe this extraordinary woman. He had sought a fortune, and he had found it in her love.

“You came home,” he whispered against her mouth.

“No, I came to you,” she retorted.

“We will rebuild Calfield Park together,” he promised as he gently nuzzled her cheek. “For us. For our family.”

She reached up to cup his face in gentle hands. “It sounds like a wonderful adventure.”

He smiled deep into her eyes as he pressed her slight frame even closer.

“An adventure that will last the rest of our lives.”

As far as weddings went, this one would be considered an extravagant, spectacular success.

Oh, the entire success could not be attributed to the small church, which was beautifully festooned with flowers, candles, and the few fortunate guests who had been allowed a much sought-after invitation. Nor solely upon the bride, who stood at the altar in a shocking crimson gown, her countenance flushed with happiness. And certainly not upon the vicar, who had once again liberally quenched his thirst from the silver flask he kept concealed beneath his robes.

Weddings by tradition included beautiful churches, glowing brides, and vicars who felt the need to succor their nerves with a swig of brandy.

No. The success could be attributed to the groom.

A groom who arrived near three hours early and who swore before God and man to love, honor, and endow his bride with everlasting adventures through all eternity ...

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALEXANDRA IVY graduated from Truman University with a degree in theatre before deciding she preferred to bring her characters to life on paper rather than the stage. She currently lives in Missouri with her extraordinarily patient husband and teenage son. To stay updated on Alexandra's Guardian series or to chat with other readers, please visit her website at
www.alexandraivy.com
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