Sweetest Little Sin (16 page)

But it wasn’t so much the strangeness of the figure, it was the skill of the carving that made Louisa catch her breath in wonder. There was life in that statue, fire in the goddess’s eyes, a suggestion of movement in the arms and in the male figure who writhed at her feet.

A short flight of steps led to a raised platform in front of the figure.

Louisa tilted her head as she circled around the shrine. “Where did you come from?” she murmured. “What wonders have you seen?”

She wanted to touch it. Stripping off her gloves, she was about to climb up to the platform when Miniver whickered.

Louisa’s head jerked around. Scanning the wood with narrowed eyes, she said, “Who’s there?”

Jardine emerged from the shadows on foot.

Her eyes narrowed. “
You
. Have you been following me?”

He shrugged, let his gaze wander over her. “I didn’t need to think too hard to guess where you’d be at this hour.”

Was she so predictable? “I’m surprised you are not dancing attendance on Miss Radleigh.”

The beautiful mouth sneered. “I’ve no interest in that chit.”

The arrogance of him! “Well, she certainly has a lot of interest in you. Have a care there, or you might end up in parson’s mousetrap.”

His smile took on a hint of irony. “Oh, I’m quite adept at eluding snares. As you’ve cause to know.”

She flushed and bit back an angry reply.

He lifted a hand toward her, then let it drop, his lips twisted in a grimace. “Ah, that was not well done of me, was it, Louisa? I should at least have the grace to admit our passion was mutual, while it lasted, should I not?”

He held out a hand to touch her face, but she jerked back. “Don’t toy with me, Jardine. Mr. Radleigh—”

“You will not mention that bastard to me unless you want to see a bullet through his heart.”

“Your threats won’t change facts.” Louisa fumbled with her gloves, tugging them back over shaking hands and fingers.

A seam ripped in her haste and awkwardness. She let out a frustrated exclamation. “Oh, why can’t you leave me alone? Why did you have to come here?”

“I’m here on business that has nothing to do with you,” said Jardine brusquely. “The girl was the easiest means of securing an invitation.”

“I’m sure she’d be most happy to have been of service,” said Louisa bitterly, giving her ragged glove up for lost. “She’s more than half in love with you.”

He shrugged. “Calf love. She’ll recover. This is more important than some silly moonling’s hurt feelings. Tell me what business brings
you
here, Louisa. Tell me what you’re doing with him. Good Christ, of all men, why did it have to be Radleigh?”

There was something in his face, an earnestness, a desperation that stopped her breath. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the urge to assure him that he was the only man she would ever want. That the sooner her sham engagement was at an end, the better she would like it.

But she and Jardine—that torrid chapter of her life was over now. Why did he seek to prolong her agony?

“You lost the card game, Louisa,” he reminded her. “I won the truth from you. Are you going to pay your debt?” He moved closer, his gaze dipping to her breasts and back to her face. “Or shall I collect a forfeit?”

Her eager, foolish heart urged her to accept the offer of a forfeit, regardless of her wounded pride.

But the memory of her weakness in Richmond Park rushed back. Despite all she’d felt, all she’d tried to convey in that passionate embrace, he’d left her with no assurances, and a little less pride than before.

That stupid card game! She couldn’t tell him about Faulkner and the mission Harriet had passed on to her. She’d given her oath.

Louisa took a deep breath. “I—I was angry. I encouraged Radleigh to spite you.”

That was the truth—partly. She’d accepted Faulkner’s commission because Jardine had left her furious and bereft. Of course, she’d scorn to use another man to make Jardine jealous; but it
had
been a side benefit, she admitted that.

His black eyebrows drew together. “Spite? That’s not like you.”

Oh yes, the ever-compliant, obliging Louisa. Ready to subordinate her needs and desires to everyone else’s, to make the best of a very bad lot.

Not this time.

Tightly, she said, “A woman scorned? How could you doubt it? I was in a temper at your callous dismissal, so I took up with Radleigh to make you jealous. But . . .”

Louisa licked her lips, then cursed herself for the betraying gesture. She shifted as Jardine’s gaze focused on her mouth. “But as I came to know him, I discovered that Radleigh has many fine qualities.”

Ignoring his incredulous snort, she went on, “This is my last chance for a family and a home of my own, Jardine. You’re a man; you don’t know what it’s like to live as I’ve done for the past eight years.”

“How did you and Radleigh meet? Who introduced you?”

Louisa hesitated. Did he suspect Faulkner’s involvement? “I don’t recall. Why do you ask?”

Pacing the bright green turf, he ignored her question, his gaze becoming distant as he pursued his own line of thought. “There
must
be a connection,” he muttered. “But who . . . ?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.”

“Let’s just say I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” She shrugged and began to turn away.

“Jardine, if you’re going to turn cryptic, I’m afraid I can’t—”

He gripped her wrist and drew her back to face him. “There are things going on at this house that you don’t understand.”

She arched her brows. “Really? Well, perhaps you’d care to enlighten me.”

She could hear Jardine’s teeth grind at her impertinence. “You slipped out to meet Radleigh last night, didn’t you?” She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut through her denial. “Don’t lie to me. I saw you.”

Much as it rankled, she accepted his reading of her nighttime exploration. “And what if I did?” she said breathlessly, lifting her chin. “What business is it of yours?”

His face darkened with fury. “Did you let him touch you?”

At his expression, her courage dipped. All very well to poke a stick at a sleeping tiger, but she didn’t want him murdering Radleigh in a jealous rage.

That he
was
jealous made no sense. Yet there could be no other explanation for his behavior.

She swallowed hard before answering. “Radleigh’s a gentleman. He wouldn’t press me to physical relations before we are married.”

The derisive bark of laughter Jardine gave told her his opinion of her naïveté.

Jardine had always been deluded into thinking every man who looked at her twice must want to bed her. The idea used to tickle her sense of the ridiculous. Now, it seemed an attitude fraught with danger.

His voice turned silky. “If I catch you wandering the corridors at night again, I’ll show you exactly what can happen to a lone female who’s as trusting as you.”

A thrill burned a path down her spine. “You wouldn’t dare.”

But she wanted him to dare, didn’t she? That’s how pathetic she was. She wanted him, even if he didn’t care the snap of his fingers for her.

Jardine dashed a hand through his hair. “You need to leave this place, before you get yourself into trouble.”

“Well, I’m not going,” said Louisa, surprised to find that in that moment, she meant it. “How do you expect me to bow to your wishes when you won’t even tell me why? What’s all this about, Jardine?”

He seemed to struggle with himself. “For God’s sake, can’t you just trust me?”

For a full, incredulous minute, she couldn’t speak.

Something flared in his dark eyes as knowledge settled over his face. His intent gaze faltered, flickered away.

“Trust?”
she whispered. “Trust
you
?”

He took a ragged breath, gave a quick shake of his head. In a voice so subdued she barely heard it, he said, “Of course not. Why should you?”

Once, she would have trusted him with her life, her dreams, her future. Was that man still inside him, or had he become dead to all finer feeling? Despite the evidence of his recent conduct, she couldn’t believe it.

Instinctively, she reached out to him, but he’d turned away from her and the moment was lost.

Fortunate that he hadn’t registered that moment of weakness. If he had, he’d exploit it to the full.

Jardine’s head jerked up, as if startled at a sound. She heard it a second later, a horse’s hooves crunching on the bridle path, a murmured “Whoa there.”

“Someone’s coming.” Louisa turned to scan the woods, trying to pinpoint where the noise originated, her brain already formulating an explanation for her presence here, alone, with a man who was supposedly a bare acquaintance.

“Jar—” She turned back, but he was gone.

“THERE you are, my dear.” Radleigh dismounted and tipped his hat to her. “Ah, admiring the heathen idolatry, I see.”

He took her arm in that possessive way he had, and she struggled not to pull from his hold. He handed her up the stone steps that led to the shrine she’d been about to examine more closely when Jardine had arrived.

The goddess was even more impressive up close. “A fearsome creature,” Louisa murmured.

“Yes, it’s the Hindu goddess Kali.” He gave a faint smile. “You, being a good Christian lady, are probably shocked.”

She tilted her head. “Not at all. The carving is beautiful.” She reached out and trailed her fingertips along its ridges and curves.

“Isn’t it?” Pleasure rang in Radleigh’s voice. “Her purpose in this guise is to fight evil and fear. There’s a legend about her. Would you like to hear it?”

With a glance at him, Louisa nodded.

“Kali was called forth to do battle with a demon that was terrorizing humans. The demon had the special power that for every drop of blood he spilled, another demon was made. The goddess saved the people by drinking the demon’s blood and swallowing the spawned demons whole. She was so ecstatic with the taste of blood that she danced on the battlefield over the bodies of the slain.”

“Charming!” Louisa said dryly.

A slight smile acknowledged her sally. “To calm her down, her consort, Shiva, was sent in the form of a crying baby. Kali finally quieted and put the infant to her breast.”

Louisa gazed at this powerful warrior goddess. “She looks evil, but she’s not, is she? I suppose one must be fierce, ruthless to fight true evil.”

Perhaps, one must even sacrifice one’s own principles. Was that what Jardine had done in his career?

She understood more than Jardine knew, but not as much as she wanted. Who was Radleigh beneath all that surface polish?

There was little room to move on the platform where they stood. She became acutely aware of how alone and intimate they were, in this secluded place.

Moreover, as her fiancé, Radleigh might expect her to show some affection toward him. She repressed a shudder. Not even for King and country could she feign pleasure at Radleigh’s touch.

Though he didn’t touch her, she felt the presence of his body all down her back, his hot breath stir the tendrils at her ear. She wanted to step away, but that would mean moving off the small ledge that gave the best vantage from which to view the statue. Then, it would be obvious she wanted to distance herself from him. Odd behavior in a future wife.

But she had told him she was cold, hadn’t she? Vignettes of her interactions with Jardine flashed through her mind. She wished she could be cold when the occasion clearly demanded it. She’d never been able to resist Jardine.

Radleigh’s hand cupped her elbow, making her start and turn her head. “Shall we go? I’ll show you some of the prettier rides.”

His thick mouth quivered. He’d made a double entendre that he hadn’t expected her to understand. Louisa frowned a little and walked with him, doing her best not to jerk free of his hold. “No, thank you. I am a little fatigued and I’d like to return to the house.”

At the bottom of the stairs, he did not release her.

Louisa repressed the impulse to jerk free. Did he mean to kiss her now?

Radleigh observed her reaction with the expectant, slightly malicious gaze of a cat waiting for its prey to recover from a swipe of its paw so it could bat the poor thing again.

“My dear,” Radleigh’s voice deepened, as if with emotion. “Much as I respect the finer feelings that lead you to wait, I’m impatient to have you as my wife. When can we set a date to marry?”

“Oh.” Louisa hoped her face didn’t betray the revulsion that clutched at her belly at the mere thought of being tied to Radleigh for the rest of her days.

“Indeed, I look forward to it, too, Mr. Radleigh, but—”

He held up a hand. “Please, not this formal ‘Mr. Radleigh. ’ Call me Duncan.”