Take My Heart (Heroic Rogues Series) (17 page)

“I have been doing a lot of thinking.”

“About what?”

“Many issues. I cannot believe how arrogant the aristocrats are at this party. They lift their noses in the air and strut about like a flock of peacocks. I get the impression they do not care about anyone but themselves and their wealth.” She shook her head. “Then there is that matter you told me earlier – where all the tax money goes.” She tilted her head. “Did you notice that most every woman at this party is wearing some kind of diamond or pearl necklace?”

“Yes.”

“They act like this is a social party, yet talk of war as if it were a child’s game.”

He smiled wider, his heart beating much faster than before. Excitement welled inside his chest, softening his feelings toward her. This time he didn’t fight it.

“Yes, I know that, too.” He paused, touching his finger to her cute little nose. “But why do you care? Britain has control over Philadelphia right now, so what are you worried about?”

She frowned. “If what you say is true, well...it is not fair.”

He chuckled again from her delightful display. “No, my sweet. Fair is not a word used in war, I am sorry to say.”

“But does the King know about it?”

“Where do you think the ranking officers learned it?”

She grew silent as her gaze roamed over his face. He enjoyed the way she studied his eyes before letting her attention move to his lips. The erratic thud in his heart increased. What kind of power did she have over him? More importantly, why did he let it affect him?

He caressed her cheek. “Mercedes, you should not look at a man that way unless you want to be kissed good and hard.”

“Please forgive me. I suppose it is not proper for you to kiss me in public.”

His heart flipped, nearly knocking him over with surprise. “Are you saying you want me to kiss you?”

Her mouth turned up in an impish smile. “If you do not know the answer to that, then I have not made my desires known very well.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to tempt me like that?” He circled his arm around her waist while his hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her close. “I am a normal man, no matter how much of an ogre you wish me to be.”

He waited, expecting her to curl her lip as she often did. Instead her face softened. Where had the witch gone, the one who’d made him regret his decision to marry? This enchanting woman was certainly not that creature.

Her green eyes warmed with invitation as she shook her head. “I never thought you an ogre.”

His heart picked up rhythm. “Oh? That is not the impression you gave me a while ago.”

“William, please forget about back then.” She swept back a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. “I do not even want you to remember that woman.”

How he wished she were right. How he wished he could just erase the past two years. But he couldn’t.

“I am sorry, Mercedes.” He dropped his hands and stepped away. “But you are asking too much of me.”

Her gaze lowered to the ground and she gave a forlorn nod.

“But come.” He took her hand and placed it around his elbow. “I promised to show you Lady Burwell’s flower garden, and I am not leaving until you see it.”

She gave his arm a slight squeeze and he looked down into her serious expression. “You know, Mr. Braxton, I think you like me more than you realize.”

He laughed, cursing under his breath for being so obvious. “Just like you, Mrs. Braxton, I am a good performer.”

Chapter Ten

The evening’s meal and dancing afterward was a huge success for Lady Burwell. A few more guests arrived, nearly crowding the ballroom. It thrilled Mercedes when William escorted her out on the dance floor, but she wished he didn’t have to leave her arms. While in his embrace his eyes sparkled like gems and his soft smile weakened her limbs. Would he ever feel the same way about her?

“Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?” he asked.

“I am certainly trying.”

“I must say you are putting on a fantastic performance.” He chuckled. “If anything, the men you have snubbed tonight are more eager to persuade you to join them in a dark corner.”

She scowled. “William, must you speak this way?”

“Forgive me, I am out of line. I will save this conversation for when we are in the privacy of our bedchambers.”

“If I had it my way, we would cease discussing this topic altogether.”

The dance ended and despondency washed over her. She hated leaving his arms, but she didn’t want to hear his cruel words either. Could she make him fall in love with her?

When another man asked her to dance, she gritted her teeth and smiled. She wanted to reject his invitation, but her polite nature wouldn’t allow her to do so. By the gleam in the man’s eyes she presumed Kat had known him quite well, also. Mercedes was grateful for the livelier tune, but his slimy hands touched lower on her back than necessary. When the dance ended William was always there to meet her, his gaze piercing through the other man.

When William played the part of an adoring husband, her heart picked up rhythm. She wished his smile would show it along with his eyes. She’d do anything to put the gleam of interest in his eyes once again.

When another man came to claim a dance, her husband turned her over to the stranger. Why couldn’t the evening end?

Finally, the moment she both dreaded, yet anticipated, arrived. She postponed retiring for the night as long as possible, but once the gaze of her host and hostess fell upon her, she realized they too had heard the rumors and wondered about the Braxton marriage. Mercedes had to give the impression all was well.

Inhaling a deep breath for courage, she walked to William who conversed with Brandon Kennedy and another man she wasn’t acquainted with. She tapped her husband on the shoulder to get his attention. When he looked at her, she smiled.

She glanced at the group. “Gentlemen, forgive the interruption.” Then she turned to William. “I just wanted you to know I am retiring for the evening.” Heat gathered in her cheeks from her announcement.

“I am ready to retire, also. I shall come with you.”

“William,” Brandon interceded. “Do not forget about the foxhunt tomorrow at dawn.”

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy, I plan on attending. Now, gentlemen, if you will please excuse us, we shall see you in the morning.”

She slipped her arm around his elbow as they walked side by side up the grand staircase toward the bedroom. Her heart pounded with every step, and she hoped he couldn’t feel her shaking.

He opened the door to their room and followed her. When the door closed and locked, her heart leapt to her throat. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to control her mind from wandering toward the bed.

“So,” he began.

She jumped and turned his way. He leaned back against the door with his arms folded over his broad chest. The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin, merriment twinkling in his eyes. Why did he have to look so sensual?

“Yes?”

“Are you ready to share the bed with your husband?”

“Of course, William.” She forced a laugh. “I do not want you sleeping on the floor.”

“Good, because I was not going to sleep on the floor. I have a big day tomorrow and I need my rest.”

“Yes, I heard mention of a foxhunt.”

He nodded.

“Have you ever been on one?” she asked.

“It has been awhile, but I still remember.”

She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. It irritated her the way he looked so casual and unaffected, especially since the nerves inside her body played leapfrog. Then again, she was his wife. There was no reason she should be nervous…except for the fact she wanted him to know she was Mercedes and not Kat.

“I suppose I shall get ready for bed now.” She glanced toward the massive four-poster, the sheets already invitingly turned down. She walked to the dresser where the maid had placed her possessions, then caught sight of a nightgown already lying on the foot of the bed. “Who put this here?”

“Burwell’s servant, of course.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I did not instruct her to do this.”

“I did.” He shrugged. “It is her job.”

A tremble ran through her body, but she smiled. “Thank you.”

“I shall step outside for a few minutes while you change,” he said.

“I appreciate that.”

When he closed the door, she sighed. But the worst wasn’t over. She still had to lie next to him throughout the entire night. It was a good thing the mattress was so large.

She undressed without hesitation then quickly threw on her flimsy pink gown. How could she spend the night in the same bed with him? What if he tried to kiss her? She would certainly melt into his arms. Under no circumstances could she let that happen until she told him the truth.

And that wouldn’t happen any time soon.

She blew out a few of the candles, hoping to hide herself as much as possible. She rushed to the vanity and yanked out the pins holding her hairstyle together. Pulling a brush through her hair, she flattened the ringlets, not worrying how it tortured her scalp. Before she had brushed the mandatory one hundred strokes and having time to braid her hair, heavy footsteps sounded outside the door.
William
. She dropped the brush on the vanity and darted to the bed. Just as she crawled under the blankets and pulled them to her chin, the door opened.

* * * *

William glanced inside. Through the poorly-lit room, a flash of pink flew by, then disappeared under a flurry of blankets. He chuckled softly. His dear little wife was acting shy again. So unlike her.

She had extinguished the candles, leaving only the moonlight that poured through the sheer curtains. Yes, she certainly had been behaving strangely, but he forced aside his confusion and proceeded as if she weren’t even here.

He closed and locked the door. After he shrugged out of his over-coat and waistcoat, he draped them over the nearby chair where he sat to remove his boots. Out of the corner of his eyes her face drew his attention. She peeked over the tops of her protective blankets like a woman afraid of her own shadow.

He focused back on his boots. “Is anything amiss, my dear?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice squeaked slightly.

“I mean,” he said, pulling one boot off and starting on the other, “is this the way you are going to behave all night?” He removed the other boot, and met her wide-eyed stare. “Do I have to guard myself from accidentally bumping into you during the night? I would hate for you to scream and have the whole household running to our door.”

She lowered the blankets to just below her chin and gave a forced laugh. “You have an overactive imagination. I would not do that.”

“Your actions make me wonder, my dear. I can see the signs proving my own wife is repulsed by my body.”

Her wide eyes softened and her tight mouth relaxed. “I may have thought that back then, but now...well, it is different.”

“No. Nothing is different.”

“William, why will you not believe me?” She leaned forward, keeping the sheet up around her neck. “What do I have to do to make you believe?”

“Not one thing.” He stood, turned his back to her and unfastened his shirt. Silence hung through the air while he removed the garment and placed it over the back of a chair. He reached for the latches on his breeches, then stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Her gaze roamed over him. Was that a look of interest he detected in her eyes? He dismissed the idea, knowing full well the answer. Yet, as she studied him, the lines around the corner of her eyes softened and her lips lifted in a grin. Perhaps she wasn’t repulsed.

“I am going to remove my trousers, so you might want to hide your innocent eyes,” he teased.

Her face flamed like a bonfire. Lips curled in a cringe before she squeezed her eyes shut.

His anticipation shattered. Obviously, his judgment had been wrong. He frowned and turned his back to her again, proceeding to undress. The sheets rustled. She must have buried herself further under the covers.

“William? Do you have your nightshirt?”

“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?” He reached for the garment and shrugged it over his head.

“The other morning when I crawled into your bed to help convince the soldiers, you were not wearing one.”

He wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “You remember well, my dear.”

“I...I had hoped you would wear one tonight. If not, I shall not be able to get a moment’s rest.”

Anger and pain sliced through his heart. Apparently she did still think of him as a monster. “That is not my problem,” he spat before climbing into bed.

His terrified wife hugged the side of the bed as if she were going to flee at any moment, so he stayed close to his side and made himself comfortable. Lying on his back, he stretched his arm over his head, staring at the ceiling.

What was so wrong with him that made her recoil every time she saw a hint of his skin? What was it about him that made her think he was a lowlife miscreant? He scolded his thoughts. It shouldn’t matter what his wife thought of him, but for some reason, lately it had mattered more than he’d wanted. For once in his life, he wanted a wife who looked at him as if he were the most perfect man on earth.