Secrets in Mourning (14 page)

His body clenched, every nerve fraying as he watched the only person he had ever wanted for his own.

Acceptance quickly followed. He wouldn’t lie to himself when his body mocked him. He wanted her.

But she would never want him, would never be willing to give up the privileged life she led in society.

“My lord,” someone called from the group, spying him atop the hill. “Will you not come join us?”

The music stopped briefly as the crowd turned to invite him to take part in the festivities. Looking anywhere but at Lady Victoria, he made his way down, taking care to bury any lingering emotions. He would be strong, stable.

And no one would know he longed for the widow only a few steps away.

Accepting several greetings, he began to feel more at ease. These were his people. The people he had come to rely upon, the people he had promised to serve, to protect. His responsibility might weigh heavily upon him at times, but he had never felt more satisfied in his life.

“Good evening, my lord.”

And with those sweet melodic words, his body instantly tensed. Turning slowly, he carefully curved his lips in a friendly smile. “Good evening, Your Grace. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

At that moment, the band began the first few notes of a song before couples began pulling their partners to the floor.

It was a tune he knew well. One that had been taught to every child in the area. One that seemed to reflect his mood perfectly.

“How lovely,” Victoria said breathlessly. He wasn’t sure if she had realized her comment on the music until she turned to him, a question bright in her eyes. “What is it?”

He cleared his throat, perhaps a bit longer than was necessary before answering. “It is a folk dance about lost love.”

“I see.” A fresh batch of mischief sprang into her eyes. “Is there any folk dance not about lost love?”

“Not any worth dancing to.” He paused. “Unless of course, it is about a love, more deep and true than any other.”

Her chest heaved a little faster as her hands knotted at her waist.

“Your Grace, please join us,” Molly called from the crowd, her cheeks rosy with pleasure as her partner spun her in circles.

A laugh tinkled from Victoria’s lips, mesmerizing him as no other sound could. “You enjoy yourself without me, Molly. As you can see, I have no partner.” A furious blush crept to her cheeks as she quickly glanced at him.

He wanted to smile, knowing she hadn’t meant to fish for an invitation.

“Ask her, my lord,” one man called out.

“Yes, ask her.”

“Yes, go on, then.”

A few more voices joined the chorus to persuade him to take her to the floor before he grinned sheepishly at her. If it were possible, her face turned a brighter shade of red.

“Forgive me, my lord. It was not my intention to trap you into the dance.”

“It is my pleasure.” He held out his hand for her, his body flinching with pleasure as her skin touched his.

“I fear I don’t know what to do.”

He smiled down at her, leading her to the edge of the makeshift floor. “You will pick it up quickly.”

And she did.

He circled her like prey, the other men in the group following his lead, each circling their own partner. He was stating the interest of the man, watching, desiring. Her lips turned up wryly at his movements.

No doubt she had experienced just this thing with other men in London. With her beauty, she would no doubt be receiving much more attention in the future. Not to mention the fortune she would inherit.

The thought of other men courting her, kissing her, was driving him mad. Aggressively, he scooped her into his arms, twirling madly as the other couples followed suit. Their whirlwind was a forced to be reckoned with, their passion inescapable.

The feelings the song evoked intertwined with his own, fueling a more demanding need to claim her.

The thought was like cold water being thrown on his head. Slowly drifting away from each other, when the tale of lost love was at an end, he felt hollow inside.

An applause broke out when the music ended, but he stood staring at her, searching for the answer that would defuse his desire. She seemed equally enthralled, not bothering to tear her gaze from his.

“You were wonderful!” Molly exclaimed, patting Victoria on the back.

And just like that, the moment was over.

Molly blushed slightly. “You were wonderful as well, my lord. As usual.”

“Thank you, Molly. It is easy when you have a good partner.”

Victoria’s lips curved sweetly, and he knew that she had never had any complaints in that area. “It was easy enough to learn.”

“Will you not join us and look at the seller’s carts, Your Grace?” Molly looked to her hopefully.

“Unfortunately, I have something I must speak with Her Grace about.” Startled almost as much as everyone else from his words, Connor straightened his stance.

She smiled to Molly. “You go on alone. I’ll catch up with you soon.” After Molly continued on without her, Victoria turned to him. “What is it you need to speak with me about?”

Quickly scrambling for a topic, he stalled by offering her his arm. “Let’s walk for a bit.”

She didn’t call his bluff then, just gently took his arm and allowed him to steer her away from the crowds. They moved in harmony, he realized after a moment.

The night was complete darkness now, allowing more privacy along the shadowed corners of the festival. While rules were relaxed and people loosened their moral values for the night, he would still need to be careful with her.

“Thank you for the dance earlier. I truly wasn’t fishing for an invitation.” Her voice seemed to melt around him.

“It was my pleasure. I was honest when I said you were an accomplished partner. You picked it up rather quickly.”

She laughed lightly. “It wasn’t difficult. The cat and mouse game of courtship is nothing new to me.”

“Of course.” He heard the edge in his voice, but she didn’t acknowledge it. “Soon you will be in that world again. But this time, you will hold all the cards.” He thought his comment would draw laughter, but instead she remained silent.

“Yes, but that won’t be for some time.”

“Not too long. Half-mourning ends next week.”

She jerked to a stop, spinning toward him. “Half-mourning? What does that have to do with it?”

“You are free from your obligation at that time.”

“I don’t understand. I am required to stay for the year.”

He shook his head slightly, surprised she didn’t know. “No, the requirement was only for full mourning. You are free to leave as soon as your enter half-mourning. The carriage has already been checked over and made ready for your trip next week.”

“I’m leaving? In a week?” She turned away from him, walking a few steps.

“Aren’t you happy?” The thought that she might actually feel something more for him caused a burst of happiness in his chest. “I thought you would be glad to leave.”

“I was. I am.” She threw up her hands in exasperation before turning back toward him. “It’s what I want.”

“But?”

“But…” she fumbled for words. “But I wasn’t expecting to leave so soon. What will you do when I’m gone? Who will take over my duties?”

“I think we’ll be able to manage,” he said, taking a step closer to her. She didn’t seem to notice.

“I doubt that.” Her brows furrowed. “I’ve hired several more servants, but they will need to be managed if the manor is to run properly.”

“Perhaps Mrs. Waversly could take over. She seems up to the task.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said, nodding grudgingly at her toes.

The total lack of enthusiasm about her leaving propelled him forward another step. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of her that he saw her stiffen, glancing up at him warily. “Why are you doing this?” she asked softly, but didn’t make a move to step away from him.

The heat of her skin, the smell of her freshly washed hair, swept over him as he took yet another step toward her. Their toes were touching, and he only needed to reach out for her to have her in his arms. He didn’t pretend to not understand her question. He had asked himself many times before. Why was he pursuing her? Why could he not keep his hands off her? “Because I have to,” he said honestly. He felt his breath speed up as she stared into his eyes, her emotions flooding her features.

“This is impossible.” She sounded almost disturbed by the fact.

“I know.” He reached out his hand, caressing one of her cheeks with his thumb. “You don’t belong here. You should be in London, enjoying your time as the belle of the Ton. Not here, rebuilding this manor.” With me. But he didn’t say it. It surprised him how easily the thought occurred to him.

When she laughed, it sounded slightly bitter. “That is the only place I have ever belonged. In the ballroom or on the arm of a man.”

“Not any longer.” Her eyes went wide at his words. “I may not have mentioned it before, but how you’ve changed Lynfield Hall, the servants, everything, it’s remarkable. You truly are gifted. More lies within you than a pretty face and pleasing figure.” He chuckled when a blush crested her cheeks. “Come now, that can’t be the first time anyone has complimented you.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Then why the blush?”

She shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It never mattered before.”

His hand stilled. “And it does now?” He looked hard into her startlingly blue eyes, seeing the color turn deeper, hazier as passion filled her.

He was no saint. Seeing that look in her eyes, feeling her body sway against his, there was only one thought in his mind.
Taste her.

Moving slowly, he kept his gaze fixed to her, watching her eyes widen with excitement as his head lowered to claim her lips. The minute their skin touched, it was as if an electric current had rushed through him. There was no stopping, there was no slowing down.

It was just them. And their passions rose.

Tongues met, swirling, plunging, twisting. Their breaths intermingled, heaving as if they couldn’t taste enough of each other.

He knew he should release her, let her go. She truly didn’t belong here with him. But he couldn’t.

Wrapping his arms securely around her, he tugged her up against him, feeling every curve of her body line up with his. But he didn’t take it any further.

She isn’t mine.
The thought seemed to torture him, taunt him into claiming her. But he couldn’t.

With a strength he hadn’t known he possessed, he gave her a last lingering kiss, taking her taste and sealing it into his mind forever before he released her. In a way it was goodbye. He had every intention of staying away from her until her departure, not wanting to risk further contact, further involvement.

“You should head back to the festivities.” His voice was gruff, but he didn’t care.

Hesitantly, she stepped away, sensing his mood. “Will you not come with me?”

“No. I should head back.” He didn’t bother giving her an excuse because he knew she would see though it. She was too smart not to.