Samantha James (27 page)

Gabriel could not withhold the doubts that crowded his mind. They were bound, by more than just the son they shared. And he could not forget the fervor with which she had claimed she hated him. No matter how sweetly she smiled at
him, the knowledge was always there, like a needle beneath his skin.

“Indeed. Tell me, sweet. Are you still so unhappy that I made you return to Farleigh?”

Gabriel did not miss the fleeting shadow that crossed her lovely features. A vile anger swept through him, dark and brooding.

Very deliberately he began to shed his clothes. His jacket was tossed across the arm of a chair. “You comfort Christopher. You tend Jonathan. Well, I am your husband and I fail to see why I am not accorded the same consideration.”

Oh, what arrogance! She felt giddy and hot, yet her hands were ice-cold. She pressed them together before her, shaken and uncertain by the tempest she sensed in him.

His shirt landed atop his jacket. “I would disrobe if I were you, Yank. If you do not, it will be my very great pleasure to do it for you.”

The sight of his naked, hair-roughened chest made her mouth go dry. “Gabriel,” she cried, “you must believe me! It was a kiss on the cheek between friends. Nothing compared to what we have shared!”

By now he was naked. “No? Show me the difference then.”

Cassie swallowed. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. She shook her head lest she give in to her weakness, to him.

His hands were on her bare arms now, warm and disturbing. Far more disturbing was his arousal—proudly, rigidly erect. Though she tried not to look she could not help it.

“I repeat, sweet, if I am to believe you, then you must persuade me.”

“No!” She drew a deep, burning breath. “Not like this—not when you’re so cold and angry!”

Within seconds her clothing was cast aside, leaving her as naked as he. “Stop!” she cried. “I—I will not come to you willingly!” She pounded his chest as he tumbled her down on the bed. “Do you hear me, I will not!” And yet her arms came around him, whether to push him away, or pull him close, she did not know…

Furious that she would refuse him, something snapped inside Gabriel then. A crimson mist swam before him that obliterated all thought, all reason. He drove home in one fiercely burning thrust, an iron blade of steel…through dry, tender tissue unprepared for his thrusting invasion.

Her body jerked with the power of his entry. Though she tried to choke it back, her cry of hurt rent the air.

Imbedded to the hilt inside her, Gabriel went utterly still.

The stricken sound ripped into him like the tip of a lance. He levered himself up on his elbows to stare at her. Her eyes were wet and swimming with tears. Even as he watched, they brimmed and overflowed.

She began to sob. “Christopher means nothing to me, I swear. Oh, don’t you see? It’s Evelyn he loves, not me. He only wanted to be close to her—to her, Gabriel, not me!”

His eyes squeezed shut, his features contorted with anguish and desire unchecked. “Cassie,” he whispered. “Oh, God…Cassie…” His blinding
fury had vanished, replaced by a deep, abiding shame. He tried to withdraw, his only intent being to spare her.

She wouldn’t let him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung. She hated what he had just done—his anger. His bitterness. But she did not hate
him
. And she could not stand the thought that he would hate himself if they did not change the memory of this encounter from something painful and grim…to something wonderful.

“No,” she pleaded. “
No
.”

“I can’t. Cassie, I
can’t
.” His voice was low and tight. “I am a brute to treat you so.”

“You can. Just love me, Gabriel. Just,” her voice broke then, “just love me.” Her palms framed the rugged plane of his cheeks, the brutal clench of his jaw. She kissed him, with all the shy, sweet longing held deep in her breast, the salty warmth of her tears trapped between their lips.

At first his mouth was closed tight against her…as closed as his heart, she thought with a wrench of despair. But then his eyes flicked open; they sheared directly into hers. She glimpsed his pain and guilt anew, and with a breathless little cry, shaped her mouth against the heat and hardness of his.

All at once his arms clamped around her body, his hold almost convulsive. And this time when eager, trembling lips lifted to his, he took hot, searing possession of the honeyed interior of her mouth, taking the sweetness she offered so ardently and giving back in full measure.

“Don’t leave me again, Cassie.” His voice was tinged with a dark desperation, a hoarse mutter
against her lips. “Promise me you won’t leave me again.”

Cassie’s heart gave a wild leap. She could have wept for the joy that surged in her veins. He
did
care. Oh, sweet heaven, he did! With a smothered sob of gladness, she locked her arms tight around his neck and shamelessly pressed her lithe young curves tight against his hardness.

She could feel the hunger in his kiss, the thickness of his shaft still incredibly full and snug within her. His withdrawal left her empty and aching and clutching the tightness of his hips, but he shook his head and pressed his lips to the ivory swell of her breast.

Time ceased to exist. He kissed her endlessly, greedy and tender and urgent all at once. Fever rose inside her, for all the while he toyed with her nipples, first one and then the other, until they grew tight and hard and aching for the touch of his lips. There he lingered until she lay gasping and breathless.

His lips journeyed lower, across the silken plane of her belly. With brazen intimacy he pried her thighs wide. Cassie swallowed, eyes wide and glazed, as for one mind-splitting moment he hovered there. The moist heat of his breath grazed her first, and then the lashing glide of his tongue played over sleek feminine folds, again and again, until she lay writhing and panting, pleading for him to end his exquisite torment.

When he finally moved over her, beads of sweat dotted his upper lip, testimony to his rigid restraint. Though he was hard and throbbing, his penetration of the flesh he’d earlier
ravaged was unendurably slow, and stunningly thorough.

At last he lay buried deep within her. He tightened his jaw, for the feel of her velvet heat clamped hot and tight around his swollen member nearly pushed him over the edge. He rolled suddenly so that she lay atop him, still filled with the rigid thickness of his staff.

Her eyes flew wide. With one small hand she braced herself against his chest. The deep, uneven breath she drew only made her all the more aware of his size and breadth within her.

“Gabriel—”

His eyes were dark and burning. “Take me,” he said thickly. His hands swept down to her hips. He lifted her, bringing her down on his pulsing erectness. Stretching. Guiding. Seeking.

“That’s it, sweet…yes,
yes
!” He groaned as the storm of passion caught them in a raging tempest, sweeping them high, ever higher. Somehow he held back until he felt her clinging spasms of release tighten around his turgid flesh. He gritted his teeth as his own came, flooding again and again at the gates of her womb. With a cry she collapsed against his chest.

He eased to his side; a corded arm cradled her close. Hands that were immensely gentle brushed honey-gold tendrils from her cheeks. He smiled a little at her dazed expression. A finger beneath her chin, he tipped her face to his. His kiss was long and slow, meltingly sweet. Together they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

T
he creak of the door opening the next morning prodded Cassie from a sound sleep. From across the room came a faint gasp. Cassie smothered a half-smile. It appeared Gloria had just discerned her mistress was not alone in her bed. She propped herself up on an elbow as Gloria slid the tray she carried onto the table near the door.

“Gloria.” The maid turned at the sound of the low, masculine voice.

A warm hand cupped Cassie’s bare arm. Until then she hadn’t realized that Gabriel was awake as well.

“Would you have Cook add a pot of tea to her ladyship’s morning tray from now on?”

“Of course, milord.” With a hasty curtsy Gloria fled.

There was a wealth of meaning in Gabriel’s request—and they both knew it.

Cassie turned into his arms. He trailed a fingertip down the length of her nose. “Do you object, Countess?”

His mouth carried a crooked half-smile that made her heart turn over. His dark, unshaven jaw and hair-matted naked chest fairly shouted his stark
masculinity, but his sleep-tousled hair and his eyes of pure and shining silver, made him look younger and far less harsh than she’d ever seen him.

Cassie shook her head in answer to his question. A sense of delirious happiness bubbled within her like a wellspring. For perhaps the very first time, she truly felt she played the role of wife and lady.

Slowly he lowered his head, grazing his lips lightly across hers. When he drew back, she saw that although his lips still smiled, his eyes did not.

“I hope you can forgive me for being such a fool last night,” he said quietly. “Once again I judged both you and Christopher so unfairly.” He shook his head in self-disgust. “I should have known about Christopher and Evelyn.”

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “How could you?” she admonished gently. “I did not, yet now I, too, realize how blind I was. When I think back on all the times I saw the two of them together…” A troubled frown creased the smoothness of her forehead. “Christopher is convinced Evelyn’s father would not consider him a fit husband. He will not even try to make his suit known for fear Warrenton will not allow him to see her at all.”

Gabriel hesitated. “I know how fond you are of Evelyn,” he said slowly. “But I must be honest, sweet. Christopher may well be right. Like my father, Warrenton values his title above all else. I suspect he would allow no hint of scandal to besmirch his name.”

Cassie said nothing. It saddened her greatly to think her friend might never know such happiness as she had found. After a moment, Gabriel pressed
his lips against her temple. Warm breath feathered across her skin.

“Sometimes,” he said, his tone very low, “there comes a time to forget—a time to start anew.” A finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face to his. “I would like very much for us to start this marriage anew, sweet.”

To her surprise, there was an unusual uncertainty in his manner. Her tongue came out to moisten her lips. “A new beginning?” she whispered.

“Exactly. A new beginning.”

Her face was suddenly radiant. “I would like that very much.” She twined her arms around his neck, unable to contain her joy. “I would like that very much indeed!”

“Ah, but I’ve proven to be a jealous husband. I should think you are sorely vexed with me.”

She bit her lip. “How could I be? I fear I—I’ve also proven to be a jealous wife.”

His gaze roved over her face. “You’ve nothing to be jealous of, sweet.”

“No? Not even Lady Sarah?”

His eyes darkened; his arms tightened. “Listen to me, sweet. I’ve lain with no other since the moment we met. I’ve
wanted
no other.”

Her eyes clung to his. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

His husky tone sent fiery shivers playing over her naked skin. She thrilled to the hotly possessive flare in his eyes. She wanted desperately to say more, for their emotions lay open and unguarded between them as never before. She loved him. She loved him desperately, her heart so full she thought it would burst. What would he say if he
knew? Her lips parted; she trembled on the verge of confession.

But before she could say a word, Gabriel claimed her lips, his kiss one of infinite tenderness. Cassie’s arms around his neck tightened. She melted against him in sweet surrender.

Outside in the hall there was a loud wail. A knock followed, and then the door opened. Alice stood there, her arms full of a squirming, fretting infant.

“He’s a bit impatient this morning,” the girl announced cheerfully.

Gabriel reluctantly released her mouth. A rare note of laughter in his tone, he whispered in her ear, “Our son has rather ghastly timing, does he not?”

He laughed softly as Cassie’s cheeks flooded crimson.

When Alice had gone, he teased her unmercifully when she insisted on donning her nightgown before she sat up to nurse Jonathan. Clearly Gabriel had no such inhibitions. He strolled naked through the connecting door to his own room, and returned in that very same state, stopping for his cup of tea which sat on the table by the door. He had just begun to pour Cassie’s chocolate for her when there was yet another knock on the door. She burst into laughter when he fairly dove for the bed.

“My lady,” came Gloria’s voice, “Lady Evelyn is downstairs and wishes to know if you will join her for a ride this morning.”

Cassie bit her lip and glanced over at Gabriel.
Do you mind
? she mouthed. He shook his head.

“Please tell Lady Evelyn I’d love to,” Cassie called. “And tell her I shall be down shortly.”

When Jonathan had finished, she handed him over to Gabriel, who leisurely enjoyed the view from the bed while she hurriedly washed. With his assistance she was finally hooked into her riding habit. Before the mirror she adjusted a jaunty little riding cap atop her head. It was then she saw that Mittens, one of the cats Mrs. McGee kept, had apparently slipped into the room earlier. The furry little creature had leaped onto the small table where Gabriel had left her cup of chocolate. Now he sat greedily lapping at the rich brew inside the cup.

She whirled. “Oh, stop. Stop!” The creature paid no heed, but lapped every last drop from the cup. Without so much as a glance at the horrified woman, it daintily licked its paw then leaped to the floor.

This time it was Gabriel who burst into laughter. Cassie tried to summon a severe glare and failed miserably. She was still chuckling when she entered the morning room downstairs.

Evelyn sat on the plump gold cushions of the settee, basking in the brilliant yellow sunshine that flooded through the windows. So preoccupied was she that Cassie had to clear her throat twice before Evelyn twisted around and spied her.

“Well,” Cassie teased, “I would dearly love to know what is on your mind that you are so distracted this morning—or perhaps I should ask
who
so engages your attention.”

Evelyn blushed fiercely.

Cassie lowered her voice to a whisper. “Let me guess. Is his name Christopher?”

Evelyn’s huge blue eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, no! Is it so obvious then?”

“Not at all!” she hastened to reassure her friend. Cassie sighed, some of the light fading from her eyes. Reaching out, she patted Evelyn’s hand. “You need not worry,” she said softly. “I will keep your secret, though I wish you and Christopher would go to your father. Perhaps he would not be so opposed to Christopher’s suit as you think.”

Evelyn spoke with painful truth. “No, Cassie. I am heartily glad that Christopher bought the manor house, but I fear it is for naught. My father is more committed than ever to seeing that I marry both a title and a fortune.”

Seeing how the matter distressed her friend, Cassie declined to say more. After a moment Evelyn summoned a tiny smile.

“My father rode over with me this morning. He and Edmund planned to go out hunting. Just before you came down, Edmund asked if we wished to join them. I hope you don’t mind, but I declined.”

“I’m glad you did,” Cassie said dryly. “I could never keep up with the three of you in a hunt.” They had just arisen when all at once there was a sharp cry from outside the room.

Evelyn’s startled gaze met Cassie’s. “What on earth—”

“It sounds like Mrs. McGee!” Cassie was already dashing through the door.

The scream had indeed come from Mrs. McGee. The housekeeper was on her knees in the entrance
hall. Mittens, her little cat, lay in a heap before her.

“Oh, the poor thing,” she cried. “I started to shoo him outside, but he was walking as if—as if he were foxed. Then all at once he just stopped cold! He looked at me—rather puzzled like—and then the poor mite just fell over!” She wrung her hands. “I—I think he’s dead!”

By then Edmund, Evelyn’s father, and Gabriel had stepped up as well. Gabriel knelt down beside Mrs. McGee. With gentle fingers he examined the limp body of the cat. Finally he glanced over at the housekeeper.

“From what you described,” he murmured, “it almost sounds as if he
were
drunk.” He shook his head and laid a hand on Mrs. McGee’s shoulder. “In either case, I’m sorry, Mrs. McGee. It appears he’s passed on.”

Davis had joined the group as well. “Sir, perhaps the creature might have got into some spirits in the kitchen.”

Cassie swayed.
It almost sounds as if he were drunk
. No, she thought faintly. Not drunk…

Drugged.

A terrible light-headedness assailed her. A hideous, awful possibility leaped through her mind.

Slowly she began to back away. “No,” she whispered, her gaze fixed solely on Gabriel. “Dear God, no…” She whirled and bolted up the stairs.

Gabriel leaped to his feet, an expression of consternation darkening his brow. “Cassie! What the devil…” He strode after his wife.

Upstairs in her room, she tried to close the door in his face. He flung it open with a fist and stepped within, his face like a thundercloud.

“Cassie! Whatever the blazes has come over you?” He was concerned. Angry. Most of all puzzled, for her eyes were huge, her skin pasty-white. Damn! If he didn’t know better, he would swear she was terrified of him…

He curbed his frustration and extended a hand toward her. “Come, sweet, tell me what’s wrong.”

She stood in the center of the room, hugging herself. Terror iced her veins. She was shaking from head to toe. “As if you didn’t know!” she choked out.

“Cassie, I swear I do not! Please, tell me what has come over you for you to act this way!”

Her mind would not stop working. Was this why Gabriel’s mood had been so very fine this morning? She thought piercingly that perhaps he hadn’t meant today to be the beginning of their marriage at all…

Perhaps it was meant to be the end.

“The cat drank my chocolate!” she cried. “And now he is dead…he drank the chocolate meant for me, and now he is
dead
!”

Gabriel sucked in a harsh breath. “Sweet Lord! Surely you do not think that I—”

“You put laudanum in my chocolate once before,” she screamed. “Do you deny it?”

“No, but that was only to help you sleep—”

“I am the only one in this house who drinks chocolate, Gabriel. And now perhaps I was meant to sleep forever!”

She was not herself. He could hear the frenzy in her voice, see the wildness in her eyes. He reached for her. She shrank back and eluded his grasp. Dragging a bag from the wardrobe, she threw it
on the bed along with several gowns. Blindly she began stuffing them inside. Her hands were shaking so that she could hardly manage.

With a grim expression on his face, he raised his hands to her shoulders. He spun her around and dragged her close. “Cassie, look at me,” he demanded, giving her a little shake. Though his voice was harsh, his eyes mutely pleaded. “Look at me and tell me you truly believe I would ever hurt you, much less plot to see you dead!”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “I’ve been shot,” she cried. “Accosted. And now this! What am I to think? And you truly did not want a wife, Gabriel, you know you did not!”

“All that has changed, Cassie.” His voice was gritty with emotion. “My God, you are the mother of my son! As God is my witness, I would sooner cut off my arm than harm you—in any way—ever!”

“And what about your father? Gabriel, we have gone over this before! He despised me when you brought me here. I was not his choice of bride—I was an American! Perhaps he would see me dead for no other reason than that!” She put a hand to her head. “I don’t know what to think. I-I just don’t know!”

It was then she spied Evelyn hovering at the door. She broke free and flung out her hands. “Oh, Evelyn, please, help me!” She was weeping, half-hysterical. “I-I cannot stay here. Will you help me?”

“Oh, Cassie, of course I’ll do whatever I can to help…but…” Evelyn’s gaze met Gabriel’s over her shoulder. He gave a silent nod of assent.

She grasped Cassie’s hands. They were ice-cold. “Calm yourself, love. I’ll tell you what. You and Jonathan may stay at Warrenton with Father and I until all this is sorted out…Father won’t mind, I’m certain of it…”

An hour later, Gabriel stood atop the wide graceful steps before Farleigh Hall. His posture wooden, he watched the carriage pass through the tall, ivy-clad gates, toward Warrenton—watched until the last swirl of dust had settled on the ground.

Inside were his wife and son.

Edmund stood just inside one ornately carved double door. “Good Christ, boy! I cannot believe you allowed her to go!”

Gabriel’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt. He stepped past his father, pointedly ignoring him as he strode toward the drawing room.

Edmund dogged him every step of the way. “Gabriel!” He frowned his disapproval as his son went straight to the crystal decanter of brandy. “Have you nothing to say?”

Gabriel slammed the glass he was holding onto the tray so hard the glass shattered. “No,” he bit out furiously, “but apparently you do, since it appears I have once again failed to live up to your expectations!”

Edmund was undaunted. “Oh, come now! Her charges are outrageous. The cat no doubt died of natural causes—not because it drank chocolate laced with a lethal dose of laudanum. Why, ’tis common knowledge women who have just given birth are inclined to emotional outbursts. Oh, I can see where you feel you must humor her. But by allowing her to leave, you must be aware you
merely encourage her fears—and surely they are totally unfounded!”