Samantha James (19 page)

If he were wise, he’d let her go now. Before things progressed any further. Before she was hurt…
Fool
, taunted a scathing voice in his mind,
she’s already been hurt
.

Something bitterly dark and ominous crept over him. He despised the emotion she roused in him—for years he’d felt his heart encased in ice—and he resented her fiercely for all he felt, for all she had made him feel…all he did not
want
to feel.

Yet he could not turn his back on her.

He sighed, a sound borne of weary resignation.
After tugging off his boots, he stretched out beside her and drew her into his arms. He stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling, a lean hand absently stroking the tangled length of her hair, the other measuring the slender nip of her waist.

It was she, he thought blackly, who had every reason to distrust him—every reason to hate him. How could she possibly think he hated her? That he would wish her dead? But all at once Gabriel’s blood ran cold.

God knew
he
did not…but what if someone else did?

S
everal days later they returned to Farleigh.

Gabriel made the decision the morning after Cassie was accosted. For the life of him, he couldn’t rid himself of the unsettling notion that her kidnapping had, perhaps, not been a random incident, as the police believed. It made his blood boil every time he thought of it. By God, but he’d have liked to get his hands on the scoundrel—he’d take him apart piece by piece!

But Gabriel had long since outgrown his reckless, careless youth. He would make no accusations—no assumptions—without just cause. Perhaps his suspicions were unfounded—more the better. But he offered a reward should her assailant be found, and he hired an investigator to return to Charleston. He did not doubt Cassie’s claim that her mother did not know the identity of her father, or that the vile woman had abandoned her. But if there was someone from her past who might be responsible, Gabriel intended to find out. Perhaps there was some connection between the shooting and her kidnapping—perhaps there was not. But Gabriel had decided it would be easier to keep her safe at Farleigh rather than in London. He said nothing
to Cassie, though. He did not want her to worry herself lest his suspicions were unfounded.

While another might have deemed his behavior toward his wife fiercely possessive—and even more protective—Gabriel did not acknowledge such a thing, even to himself…
especially
to himself.

The days flowed into weeks. Though he struggled to maintain a cool distance from the beauty who was his wife, his feelings were far from indifferent…indifferent?! Gabriel was discovering she was far too tempting for his peace of mind. He had not bargained on the hungry desire she aroused in him. It was torture, having her forever at hand, so near and yet unable to touch her.

She had only to enter a room and all she stirred in him rushed to the fore. He was vastly irritated with himself, for where Cassie was concerned, he was no longer in control of his emotions. Her slightest accidental touch, the merest scent of her perfume, sent sharp needles of desire raking along his spine.

Hardest of all was sleeping with but a single wall between them. Even in his sleep his mind plunged backward. He yearned for lips as tender and dewy as moist summer berries. He could almost feel her beneath him once more, her skin sleek and soft beneath his lips and hands, her woman’s flesh clasped hot and tight around his rigid hardness. Countless times he woke marble-hard and throbbing, his shaft ready to burst the bonds of his skin…No, indeed, Gabriel had not forgotten the shattering night they had shared.

Nor had she.

In truth, Cassie was heartily relieved when they left London. The whirlwind pace of the city still left
her in awe. So many of the parties she had attended were boring, the people shallow with the exception of a handful. And though she tried to brush it aside, that horrible encounter with the footpad had left her wary of every shadow and stranger.

She loved the peace and quiet at Farleigh, the smell of the fresh, country air, the lush greenery. As often as she could, she indulged her newfound love of riding. She often rode with Evelyn, who had returned to Warrenton with her father. But when she did not, Gabriel had been most insistent that a groom accompany her.

But all was not as it had been before. Oh, there had always been a tingling current of awareness whenever she and Gabriel had chanced to lock gazes. But there was a difference now—a sizzling tension that made Cassie heartstoppingly aware that everything had changed. Her heart set up a wild hammering whenever he was near. And he was forever on her mind, though she tried her very best to put him
out
of it.

But he kept her ever off-guard, for she never knew what to expect from him. He could be charming and ever so pleasant when he wished. At other times he was so distant and aloof she wanted to cry. She found herself wondering if he would visit her bed again. The very thought made her tremble—but with excitement or fear she was not certain!

Only the night before, he had walked her to her room. At the door, she shyly bid him good night. But he did not move on to his door, as she expected. He stood there, his eyes night-dark and burning.

Her heart had skipped a beat. The heated blaze she saw—was it desire—or anger? Her confidence
in herself was tenuous at best. Did he still find her humble beginnings distasteful? Oh, if only she were like Evelyn—delicate and blond, sweet and refined. For she was very much afraid that was the kind of woman Gabriel preferred…

A lady. A pang swept through her. God above knew she would never truly be a lady, not like Evelyn. For no matter what the rest of the world thought, Gabriel would never see her as one…

“Was there something else?” She could not hide her nervousness, nor could she look away from him. Her mind was all awhirl. He smelled of soap and crisp starch. She fought the strangest urge to lay her palm against his lean cheek, to feel the slight roughness of his jaw against her fingertips.

His gaze was fastened on her lips. It shocked her to realize just how badly she longed to feel his lips upon hers, taking command of her senses, arousing her with devastating persuasion. But the very idea spawned heated images in her mind that were best left undisturbed.

Later she chided herself, knowing she should have been glad he had merely bid her good night and moved on to his room. But Cassie, unable to deny it, felt her disappointment like a weighted stone on her breast, for God help her, she had
wanted
him to kiss her…

On this particular evening, he stared at her all through dinner in a way that made her grow hot all over. She and Edmund then sat at a rosewood table playing whist. Edmund had only recently taught her the game, and to her delight, she was fully capable of besting him. Gabriel sat in the
corner, his long, elegant legs stretched out before him, nursing a brandy.

The hour was still early when Cassie began to yawn. She had been feeling dreadfully tired of late and rarely seemed to get enough sleep. To her embarrassment, usually everyone in the household was up and bustling about long before she arose.

She sent a slight smile across the shiny parquet-topped table toward Edmund. “You, sir,” she said lightly, “are very fond of winning. Therefore I believe I will cry off, and plead my excuses.”

Edmund frowned. “But ’tis still early yet.”

Cassie glanced across at Gabriel. “Perhaps Gabriel will join you.”

The corners of the duke’s mouth turned down. “I know better than to ask such a thing of him. Gabriel is nothing like Stuart—why, Stuart could have played the night through! But Gabriel was never one to play whist for the sheer sport of it. I have it on good authority that he is not fond of cards unless there is a wager involved and the stakes are high.”

The subject of their discussion rose and ambled toward them. Those beautifully masculine lips smiled, but as always, his regard was distinctly cool as it rested upon his father. “I’ve not seen the inside of a gaming hall for quite some time, Father. And I daresay in a game of chance you and I are evenly matched.” That wickedly beguiling smile widened. “But in a game of skill and wits, well, you may have noticed, my love, that neither of us likes to lose.”

My love
. Cassie felt her face grow hot. She darted a glance at Edmund. Though his expression was not
precisely disapproving, she sensed his displeasure. And though Gabriel’s tone was deceptively pleasant, she had the distinct impression he was deliberately taunting his father.

Smoothing her skirts, she got to her féet, doing her best to summon a smile. “I fear I must say good night, for I simply cannot stay awake another minute.”

“I will escort you to your room then.” Gabriel set aside his glass and took her elbow. Neither was aware of the speculative gaze that trailed them as they left.

At her door, she tilted her head back to regard her husband. “If you do not mind,” she stated evenly, “I would like a word with you in private.”

A mocking brow climbed high. “Why, Yank,” he drawled. “Are you inviting me in to your chamber? This is an unexpected surprise.”

Cassie colored, yet somehow she managed to retain her calm. Turning, she entered her room. Gabriel said nothing but followed her inside.

The quiet was all-encompassing. She crossed to stand before the fireplace, feeling the need to put some distance between them. As always, Gabriel’s presence was unnerving. Though he did not touch her, she felt as if he did.

She folded her hands together before her and gathered all her courage. “In all the time we have been married,” she said quietly, “I have asked you for nothing.”

He gave a short laugh. “True enough, Yank. Though you’ve cost me a pretty sum indeed, you have asked for nothing—and no doubt you’ve acquired far more in the bargain.”

Cassie’s lips tightened ever so slightly. Oh, but it was just like him to make her sound mercenary and greedy! “’Tis not your money I speak of, nor anything money can buy,” she said sharply.

He slipped long fingers into his pockets. “I admit, Yank, I am intrigued. But I suspect that is about to be remedied, so let us not mince words. What is it you would ask of me?”

“Very well, then, I will tell you. There are times you look at your father as if you hate him.” She delivered her statement not as a question, but as a challenge. “I suspect there is far more to your reasons than the little you have told me, and…I would like to know why.”

Surprise flitted across Gabriel’s handsome features. Clearly this was not what he’d expected. His lips twisted in something that only remotely resembled a smile. “Believe me, Yank, the feelings between my father and myself are mutual.”

“Are they? I think not.”

It was his turn for his mouth to tighten. “I have known my father far longer than you, Yank. I know him far
better
.”

“I think you know him not at all. You hold him at a distance.” The way you hold me, she wanted to cry. “Oh, I know he is like you, for I have watched you both. He tries to hide his feelings from everyone around him. And when he looks at you, there is sadness and pain—”

“You are mistaken,” he said flatly.

Cassie persisted. “I have watched him. Regardless of what has existed between you in the past, I could almost swear he is hurt—”

“What you see is outrage, outrage that I have replaced his precious Stuart as his heir.”

“Perhaps he has changed—”

“He has not. He
will
not.”

Cassie shook her head. “You cannot say that for certain! Oh, I know he can be hard and difficult—no one knows that more than I. But so can you—”

“He may have fooled you, Yank, but he has never fooled me. My father, you see, is a bit like Stuart. Upright and noble and very much the gentleman—so much the gentleman that he would not dare let anyone glimpse his true feelings. He’s too supremely decorous ever to admit it, but I know if I were to walk out of his life and never return, my father would sing praises to the heavens.”

His tone was no less than bitter. Cassie stared at the stiff, unyielding lines of his back as he moved to the window. There he remained, staring broodingly out into the night. Quiet descended, thick and unbearable.

It was Cassie who broke it. She swallowed painfully. “You are trying to punish him. I know that’s why you married me. But even after all this time, I’ve yet to understand your reasons.”

He whirled on her, his dark features so intensely fierce Cassie instinctively fell back a step. “You think I have no cause? You’re wrong, Yank, and here is why—here is what you want to know. Oh, I’ve no doubt you’ve envied me my childhood. You grew up with so little, while I grew up swaddled in luxury and riches. And indeed I wanted for nothing as a child, nor did my mother. We were well fed and well clothed. But neither of us ever forgot…Stuart was Margaret’s son, the son
of the woman he loved. I was merely the son of the woman he later married.” His tone was bitter.

Cassie’s lips parted. She remembered what Gabriel had said that horrible night he had brought her home to his father, while she stood outside the door of the drawing room…“He married her,” she whispered, “because he wanted a mother for Stuart.”

“Precisely. Make no mistake, I loved my brother Stuart. But I was too young to realize that Stuart alone claimed my father’s affections. Never did my father have any regard for me.”

Cassie’s insides twisted in sick dread. Surely no man could treat his own child so abominably. Yet she had only to think what her own mother had done to her to realize that such was the nature of life…and such was the nature of love.

She heard his harsh laugh. “Foolish child that I was, I wanted my father to notice me, to love me just a measure of the way he loved Stuart. But Stuart was ever dutiful and obedient. He could do no wrong, while I could do no right. I used to stand near Stuart, praying that my father would notice me, that just once he would smile—and look at me the way he looked at Stuart. I remember once…my father had been to London. He presented Stuart a pony upon his return. I remember wanting to cry, for he’d brought nothing for me, again…”

Again
. There was a wealth of meaning in that single word. Her chest began to ache, for she suddenly began to gain a very clear picture of all that Gabriel had endured.

“Condemn me if you will, but I was jealous—and so very angry with both of them. If I could not have a pony, then neither should Stuart. That night I snuck into the stables and led Stuart’s pony from his stall, and released him into the night. I wanted the pony to run away—and he did. One of the grooms found him the next day. He’d stumbled and broke his foreleg. He had to be killed. I’d never seen my father so furious. I remember him shouting how cruel I was to ruin things for Stuart, how greedy and selfish.”

Cassie’s hand unknowingly rested just above her heart. She did not condemn Gabriel. Dear Lord, how could she? She had no trouble envisioning him as a young boy, clamoring to be heard, to be seen…to be loved. Oh, what he must have suffered, being forever overlooked in favor of his brother.

Cassie’s chest was aching. “You did not mean to be cruel,” she cried. “You were just a child! He was the one who was cruel, to so favor Stuart over you!”