Samantha James (21 page)

He felt the bite of her nails in his back. “Look at me, Cassie.” His tone was ragged. That he could yet speak he deemed a miracle.

Helplessly she obeyed. There was no help for it. His shoulders gleamed like oiled walnut. She sensed the iron control he was exerting over himself; his features were taut with the strain of holding back.

He lowered his head so that their lips almost touched but not quite. “Do I hurt you?” His words were but a breath of air.

Her deep shuddering breath only made her aware of his massive rod buried deep inside her, swollen and thick. But there was no pain, she realized with blinding relief, there was only the mindless excitement of being filled as never before.

Her lips formed a tremulous smile. “I—am fine,” she said faintly. And then her smile faded. Their eyes clung as she guided his head down, so their mouths were clinging too.

Slowly he began to move. She nearly cried out when he withdrew almost completely. The muscles of his buttocks tightened, and again his swollen shaft pierced deep within her. Pleasure swirled all around her, dark and heady.

Her eyes half-closed. Her back arched. Her hips caught his rhythm. Lifting. Circling. Heat shot through her like molten fire. A low moan broke from her throat. It was a plea, a wanton cry for more. She wanted him deep, deeper than she ever thought possible.

At the sound, Gabriel raised himself above her, his eyes burning like embers, the muscles of his arm corded and bulging. Every nerve in his body
was centered
there
, where her velvet sheath imprisoned him, hot and sleek and tight. His mouth took hers with frantic urgency.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned. “But…God help me…I cannot be slow and easy…I want you too much…”

Something gave way inside her, a rush of emotion that melted her insides. “Oh, Gabriel,” she cried. “I want you, too.
I want you, too
.”

His control splintered. A powerful lunge took him deep, clear to her womb, clear to the center of her heart. Again and again he plunged, torrid and intense, driving and wild. Cassie wrapped her arms and legs around his limbs and clung, caught up in the same burning frenzy. Then suddenly the world exploded, white-hot and dazzling, spreading out from that secret place he possessed so fully. She did not recognize the keening cries of rapture that tore from her throat, but Gabriel did. Her spasms spurred his own release. He plunged as if he would rend her in two. His body stiffened and throbbed, flooding her with his spewing wet heat.

His head was buried in the hollow of her shoulder. Above her, she felt his body slowly relax. Her fingers curled into the dark hair that grew low on his nape, an unconscious caress. He did not leave her, as she thought he might—as she feared he would. Instead he propped himself up on his elbows and gently—lingeringly—kissed her, a caress so unbearably sweet it brought tears to her eyes.

No words came to mind, and none to her lips. It was then that she knew…this was what she
had longed for all her life. This breathless feeling of closeness, of belonging, so much a part of another…

In that moment, she could ask for no more.

C
assie awoke to blazing sunlight streaming brightly through the windows. For a moment she stared, puzzled at the stark masculine furnishings that surrounded her. Vivid remembrance scorched her mind as she recalled she was not in her own bed…and why. But along with that came a warm fuzziness that sent her gaze peeping shyly to the other side of the bed. She frowned, admitting to a sliver of disappointment at finding herself alone.

Just then the connecting door opened a crack. Gloria peeped through. “Milady?”

Aware she was still naked, Cassie slid down beneath the covers. “Good morning, Gloria.”

“Morning?” The little maid giggled. “It’s nearly noon, mum.”

“Noon?” Her state of undress was all that kept Cassie from leaping up. “My heavens, why didn’t you wake me?”

Her round cheeks wreathed in a smile. “His lordship made it very clear I was to let you sleep as long as you wanted.” Gloria couldn’t have been more pleased at finding her mistress’s bed empty this morning. She was ever so kind and tender-hearted, and the earl so darkly handsome, for all that he was
so stern and sober, a bit like his father…She sighed her approval. If anyone deserved happiness, it was those two. Oh, but she couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. McGee!

Cassie blushed as her dressing gown was laid within reach. “Is my husband downstairs?”

“Yes, mum. He went out for a morning ride, but I believe he’s returned.”

Cassie hurried through her toilette, anxious to see him again. After the intimacies they had shared last night, it was her most fervent hope that Gabriel’s icy remoteness was a thing of the past—if the hours spent in his arms were any indication, surely it was so!

Her heart was pounding riotously as she descended the stairs. Though she told herself she had no reason to be, she was just a trifle nervous. Her slipper was on the last stair when a sudden wave of dizziness rolled over her. She paused, flattening her palm against the wall and inhaling deeply. This was not the first time she’d had such a spell of late. Mercifully, it passed as quickly as the others. But just as she would have moved forward again, she heard the spiral of angry voices just around the corner in the entrance hall.

Gabriel and his father.

She froze. Though she did not mean to eavesdrop, she could not help but overhear.

“I cannot,” Gabriel was saying flatly. “I have an appointment in London this afternoon.”

“But I’ve already made arrangements for you to meet with the vicar this afternoon to discuss our yearly donation to support the parish charities.” Edmund was clearly vexed.

“I suggest you make it another day.”

“I cannot. I told him you would be there!”

“Then handle it yourself!”

“Blast it, Gabriel, I would remind you such responsibility will someday be yours alone! Nor will I be on hand to step in for you when you decide such matters are inconvenient with your wishes. You will ultimately take my place as the duke of Farleigh. You cannot shirk your obligations then, and you cannot do so now. You have a duty to uphold!”

Cassie held her breath. There was every indication this had taken on the proportions of a major row.

“Father, I have made myself available to you these last weeks though you seldom had the courtesy to ask if I were. I admit no one was more surprised than I by your decision to involve me in estate affairs. Indeed, it occurs to me that perhaps you have been merely waiting for me to fail. So if this is your way of testing me, so be it. But I draw the line at having you make my plans
for
me. In future, consult me first.”

Footsteps echoed. A door opened.

“Stuart would not have walked away as you do, Gabriel. Never would he have been so careless of his duty.” Edmund’s fury boiled over. “If one of my sons had to be taken from me, why couldn’t it have been you? God, but I wish you had never been born!”

Cassie reeled as if she’d been struck. Oh, sweet Lord, surely her ears had played her false. Surely he had not said…

“Do you think I do not know that, Father?” In comparison to Edmund’s rage, Gabriel’s voice was
whimsically soft. “I’ve always known you did not want me—you
never
wanted me.”

The door closed quietly. Cassie clamped a hand to her mouth, her eyes tortured. Her knees refused to hold her. She sank to the stairs, utterly sick inside.

She swept into the study scant seconds later, her posture regal, her demeanor one of sheer, calm conviction.

Edmund was seated behind a polished mahogany secretaire. He glanced up at her entrance. “If you don’t mind,” he said curtly, “I prefer to be alone right now.”

“Oh, but I do mind.” The wide double doors swung closed. Four steps placed her squarely before him.

The duke’s eyes narrowed. “I would like those doors kept open, if you please.”

Cassie gazed at him steadily. For the first time she did not feel as if she were beneath him. Lord or no, duke or no, he was as human as she…and at this moment, he was beyond contempt.

“I suggest we keep them closed, Your Grace. Unless you do not care if the servants hear what I have to say—and I do believe they’ve heard quite enough. I know I certainly have.”

He jumped to his feet, as haughty as ever. “You go too far, Cassandra. I will not brook such impudence—”

“And you, sir, will not bully me. You will not browbeat me into silence. I will have my say and I will have it
now
.” Her gaze was as icy as his.

“Were I you, I do not know how I could live with myself,” she went on. “To wish your son dead…
to wish him never born…Were I you, I would be on my knees asking God’s forgiveness that I could be so cruel, so very heartless!”

Edmund went a trifle pale. There was no doubt the chit had heard the whole unfortunate exchange with Gabriel. Pride compelled him to defend himself.

“You do not know of what you speak, Cassandra—”

“Oh, I know far more than you think! Gabriel told me of his childhood. How you always placed Stuart before him, in all things, how you favored Stuart.”

Edmund threw up his hands. “You see? He’s
always
been jealous of Stuart!”

Cassie’s eyes began to blaze. She confronted him boldly, though her body trembled with the force of her emotions. “And what if he was? He was just a little boy! Oh, I’ve no doubt you will choose not to believe it, but Gabriel loved Stuart, and I have it from his own lips! But you gave all of what he so desperately wanted from you to his brother! He felt all alone!”

“Alone! Why, the boy was hardly alone! The servants doted on him! And he had his mother—”

“His mother was
all
he had!” she accused. “Gabriel looked up to you. He worshipped you. Yet you spared him not a look, not a touch, never a hint of warmth. He told me how you gifted Stuart once with a pony, and brought nothing—
nothing
—for him! What kind of man are you to do such a thing to a child, to slight him so, to be so cold and heedless of your own son? You talk of duty. But where was your duty to
both
your sons?”

“You are mistaken. Gabriel wanted for nothing as a child. And make no mistake, Cassandra. As a child he was troublesome and willful and headstrong. As a youth he was even more rebellious and defiant, but it was never so with Stuart!”

“’Tis not hard to reason why! A child knows when he is not wanted, no one knows more than I! Gabriel was wounded that his father shunned him so, and his hurt turned to anger—to rebellion. And must you forever compare him to Stuart? You said last night that Gabriel was nothing like Stuart and you are right. Gabriel can never replace Stuart and ’tis unfair of you to expect such of him! Nor is he a child any longer, and you cannot order him about as if he were.”

Edmund stared at her dumbly. An awful band of tightness crept around his chest. He was not selfish, not in the way she thought. He had put Farleigh first, for it was his birthright, as it had been for generations before him and as it would become Gabriel’s. But Cassandra made him sound like a monster.

“You are blind,” she charged, her voice shaking with quiet outrage. “Blind to all but your own selfishness. You think yourself so much better than I. But you give not a thought to the feelings of those around you. Gabriel told me you never loved him, or his mother. Yet still in my heart, I was convinced he was wrong, that he had misunderstood you. Yet now I find it hard to believe you were ever kind, that you are even capable of love!

“My mother wished me dead,” she went on. “My mother tried to
see
me dead. God alone knows who my father was. But I used to dream that he would
someday return for me, that he would take me away and we would be happy. But perhaps I was luckier than Gabriel after all. Perhaps it was better to grow up with no father at all than to have been like Gabriel—with a father like you!”

Hot tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped them away. “You may chastise me however you wish. Beat me. Banish me to the streets, for all I care. But I will never recant a single word—never!”

With a swirl of skirts he was left alone.

Slowly Edmund sank to his chair, his face bleached of all color. Did the girl truly think that he would find some way to
punish
her? No, he thought. He would do nothing, for she had
done
nothing.

Nothing but speak the truth.

If one of my sons had to be taken from me, why couldn’t it have been you? God, but I wish you had never been born!

Inside he cringed. His carelessly flung remark speared clear to his heart. Dear God, he thought numbly, she was right. He
was
a monster…

How could he have said such a thing to Gabriel? Sweet heaven—
how
?

He had made a terrible mistake, he realized numbly. A mistake that might never be rectified.

For the very first time, Edmund Sinclair, duke of Farleigh, saw himself as Cassandra saw him…Cold. Harsh. Arrogant and unfeeling.

He saw himself for the man he really was.

His shoulders sagged. There was no pride. Only a despair that dragged upon his very soul…a world of regret. It was only now that he gained
even a glimmer of Gabriel’s feelings. Whatever his son had felt for him had surely turned to hatred. He had killed any love or respect through his own neglect. He began to understand, now…when it was too late.

He had thought he still had one son left…Now it seemed he’d lost them both.

Cassie was too angry and restless to remain at Farleigh. Feeling the need to be alone and clear her head, she changed into her riding habit and went out to the stables. She gave the little mare she rode her head, and soon she was trotting up the drive to the Warrenton manor house. Though the house itself was grand and sprawling, the grounds were not as faultlessly sculpted and immaculate as those of the Farleigh estate.

Cassie idly brushed away a spot of dust from her clothes as she rang the bell. As the housekeeper admitted her, it belatedly flitted through her mind that perhaps she should not have come calling without an invitation. But Evelyn greeted her with both hands extended, her manner warm and welcoming as always. Still, Cassie was secretly glad when Evelyn let it slip that her father was not at home. Despite the fact that the duke of Warrenton was always polite and civil, his haughty manner had thawed but little over the past months.

She and Evelyn spent the afternoon drinking tea and talking. But when Cassie began to tease her about the beaus she had surely left behind in London, a faint distress crept into her lovely features.

Cassie frowned. “What is it?” she murmured.

Evelyn smoothed the folds in her gown before meeting her gently encouraging gaze. “’Tis just that…oh, I wish Father were not so intent upon seeing me wed.” She shook her head and added glumly, “I know ’tis but my imagination, but it seems ’tis all he thinks of. He’s already begun plans for a grand ball the next Season—nearly half a year away yet!”

Cassie studied her for a moment. “Has he received any offers?”

Evelyn nodded. “From Viscount Ashton.”

“He did not accept it, did he?”

Evelyn shuddered. “No. Ashton is an impertinent lech, and a fortune hunter to boot!” She sighed. “I suppose I should be glad Father is not so set upon seeing me married that he will accept just anyone’s suit. He is determined I shall not marry below an earl.”

She paused, staring down at the half-cold tea in her cup. Cassie could have sworn her lovely eyes were marred with a wistful sadness but it was gone so quickly she could not be certain. The next instant Evelyn had raised her face and flashed a smile.

“Enough of me. I would much rather talk about you.”

Cassie could not help it. The memory of all that Gabriel had done to her only last night—all that she had
let
him do—vaulted into her mind. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink.

Evelyn laughed delightedly and patted her hand. “You need not say more, love. I shall take that as a good sign.”

A pang bit deep. It was Cassie’s turn to smile wistfully. “’Tis not wise to nurture hope where none exists,” she murmured.

“Nonsense,” Evelyn declared with such conviction that Cassie looked at her in surprise. “Gabriel cares for you, I’m certain of it. Oh, he may not know it yet—men can be such obtuse creatures you know! But I have watched him, Cassie, and when you are in the room he can scarce take his eyes from you—and if his eyes and mind are thus entranced, his heart is sure to follow.”

Cassie did not argue. Evelyn’s outlook was always so rosy and bright, she could not bear to disappoint her. She set aside her cup and saucer, then said slowly, “Evelyn, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you about Gabriel’s mother.”

“Of course I don’t mind. But I’m afraid my memories of her are very vague. It’s been quite some time since she died.”

“I know,” Cassie said quickly. “But her death is what I’d like to talk about…and it’s so difficult for Gabriel, I hate to pry further. Mrs. McGee mentioned once how tragic her death was, so I thought, perhaps Gabriel was with her at the end…Had she been ill before she died?”

“Oh, no. Her death was tragic, to be sure. But it was an accident—a terrible accident. The lake at Farleigh is where it happened, you know.”