The Clarendon Rose (14 page)

She shook her head.
 
“I believe the dower cottage is your mother’s right, as
dow
ager,” she said.

He looked genuinely horrified.
 
“Good God, woman, you don’t imagine I’m going settle Loughton Manor’s dower cottage on her do you?
 
It was my intention to give her one of the other cottages on another holding—some distance away, you understand.”

Tina felt a touch of amusement, for she had no great liking for the duchess.
 
Still, the woman had always spoken of her elder son in tones of adoration.
 
It seemed sad that Clarendon didn’t return at least a little of that affection.

“I see.”
 
Tina drew in a deep breath, reining in her annoyance.
 
She stood, resolved upon changing the subject.
 
“You had expressed the desire to go out for a walk, Your Grace?”

He set down his glass and rose.
 
“Indeed.”
 
The corner of his mouth lifted.
 
“And so it is that I am put in my place, Miss Merriweather.”

“What
can
you be talking about?” Tina asked as she glanced at his proffered arm.
 
After steeling herself, she accepted it and allowed him to lead her to the French windows.
 

“Surely you must realize that you have an extraordinary talent for telling me to mind my own damn business, all the while neatly evading the use of such crude phraseology.”

“Just as you must be aware of your exceptional determination to ignore such pleas,” she retorted as he stood aside and allowed her to precede him outside.
 
But, despite her tone, she could feel her irritation dissipating at his acceptance of the change in subject.
 
As she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, she knew that she could far too easily grow far too comfortable in his company. “Tell me, is this what passes for charm on the Continent?”

“You wound me.”
 
She heard the laughter in his tone and forced herself to avoid his gaze.
 
Be very, very careful, Valentina Merriweather.
 
“And here I thought my boyish audacity was beginning to assail those formidable defenses of yours.”

“Boyish audacity?” Tina shook her head, unable to suppress her chuckle at the incongruous image, for in all her recollection, the duke had never been remotely boyish.
 

The sun still hadn’t made an appearance from behind the shifting gray clouds.
 
Despite that, Tina found the contrast between the iron gray sky and the lush green of the grass delightful.
 
She did her best to avoid the thought that the company she kept had enhanced her perception of their surroundings.
 

The green smell of spring permeated the terraced gardens as they walked down to the end of the long rows of shaped hedges.
 
Tina crouched down to peek at the goldfish in one of the ponds.
 
Clarendon squatted beside her.
 
She assumed he was watching the aquatic capers of the fish until she glanced at him and found he was gazing at her profile, his expression serious.

She didn’t look away.
 
He swallowed.

“Don’t go to India, Tina,” he said.

The anger rose up and burst through the barriers of her control.
 
How
dare
he take it upon himself to interfere.
 
He has absolutely no right to broach this subject.
 

She glared at him in speechless frustration for a few moments.
 
Then, she rose to her feet and turned away, walking towards one of the benches.
 
Fury surged inside her as she sat down on the hard stone.

“Not that it’s any of your ‘damn business’ Your Grace, but for your information, I am not a fragile blossom that will wilt at the first sign of adversity.
 
And I am aware of the risks involved.
 
Even if I hadn’t been before, you’ve certainly made sure that I am now.
 
Is it so difficult to understand that I might actually want to go?
 
That sometimes, it’s worth taking such risks?”

He straightened and strode towards her, frowning.
 
“Is it because you love him?”

She sighed impatiently.
 
“Of course I love him.
 
But that’s not the only reason I’m going.
 
I think he might find what help and support I could give him useful there.”

Clarendon sat beside her, his expression intent.
 
“Don’t risk yourself this way.
 
Edmund would be devastated if you were lost because he had suggested you come with him to India.”

“So in lieu of going with him, your ingenious solution is that I should move into the dower cottage, is it?”

He gave her a haughty glare.
 
“Yes.
 
I see nothing wrong with the notion.”

Tina felt her hands curling into fists as she stifled the urge to smack that smug expression off his face.
 
Instead, she got up from the bench and walked away, infuriated.
 

As if he knows what’s best for all of us.
 
Stupid man!
 
How shocked he would be if he knew that part of the reason I’m going is to get away from him.
 
The bleak satisfaction she felt at the thought of his reaction to such a pronouncement helped her regain a modicum of control.

She swung back to look at him, a false smile pasted on her face.
 
“So, according to this plan of yours, I’m to stay here, a spinster, and Edmund is to go to India as a bachelor.
 
We will both live our own separate lives as though the other did not even exist—though I imagine we will be permitted correspondence from time to time?”
 
She allowed the smile to drop as she continued, “And how, exactly, does that differ in any practical sense, from his losing me once we’re there?”

He stood and came to loom over her, his anger showing through for the first time as he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake.
 
“That’s probably the first genuinely idiotic thing I’ve heard you say yet.
 
Of course there’s a difference.
 
One way, he’ll know you’re alive and well.
 
The other way, he’ll know you’re dead and it was his idea that was the indirect cause of it.”

Tina shook off his hands and stood, glaring up at him.
 
“So your idea is to put me on the shelf like some fragile piece of nonsense rather than a real human being.
 
A valid solution indeed!” she snapped, her voice rising steadily as she continued,
 

“And did it ever occur to you that I might
not
oblige your sense of tragedy by falling victim to one of the many diseases that will assail me the moment I step off the ship?
 
That I might actually manage to survive all the adversities I encounter there—thrive with them, even?”

They stood, glaring at each other for a few moments.
 
Then, shaking her head, she turned and walked away, muttering, “I’m not going to listen to any more of this nonsense.”
 

The iron grip of his hand on her arm stilled her angry stride.
 
She tried to shake it off, but without success.

“Let go of me, damn you!”
 
She swung back to face him.

“Not until you bloody well listen.” He seized both her arms in that unbreakable grip.

“I’ll bloody well listen when you have something bloody well sensible to say!” she snarled, furious to be placed in this position.
 
“Now let go of me.”
 

She squirmed against his hold, and was just considering stomping on his foot with her boot when he took another step forward, bringing her uncomfortably close to the warmth of his body.
 
She could feel his breath against her forehead as she glared at the wide expanse of his torso.
 
The rage burning in her blood mingled with another kind of heat as her awareness of his proximity began to penetrate the haze of her frustration.
 

He shook her.
 
“Dammit, Tina look at me.”

She glared up at him, her expression unyielding.
 
They stared at each other in a stilled tableau as her awareness of the vibrant, muscled length of his body, so close to her own, vied with the snapping fury evoked by his ridiculous suggestions.
 
He stared back at her, his expression dark and tense.
 

“For God’s sake,” he murmured, his voice uneven, “why won’t you listen?”
 
As he spoke, he leaned forward.
 
Without conscious awareness of what she did, she swayed towards him and their lips met in the space that had been filled with the charged tension of their emotions.
 

He shifted his grip and pulled her roughly against him, tilting her head back so that his lips ground against hers in a savage kiss that was as much an assault as it was a gesture of frustration.
 
Her body responded, the wild beast of her arousal merging with the seething potency of her anger.

This time, when his tongue thrust itself between her lips, she accepted it into her moist heat, flattening herself against him as if she might somehow persuade him of the folly of his arguments through the press of body against body.
 
Yet, within moments, the antagonism had faded into irrelevance.
 
All that mattered was the hard feel of him against her and the ways she could prolong that sensation.

She tasted him, running her hands over the firm expanse of his back, impatient with the fabric of the coat that obscured the definition of his form.
 
Without even realizing what she did, she pushed her hands under his jacket, even managing to slip one beneath the back of his vest.
 
She moaned as she ran her fingers over the cords of his muscles, firmly defined through the fine fabric of his lawn shirt.
 
She wanted to get closer still, but was distracted by his hand against her breast through the material of her bodice, massaging her nipple into an almost painfully taut erection.

Her hands slipped to the sides of his trim waist, nails digging into him through the fabric of his shirt as she tilted her head back, gasping when his mouth burned a path along her jaw and then lower, to her throat.
 
His erection was hard against her belly, and the sensation of it only added to her sense of excitement and power.
 

She groaned aloud as she felt flesh against flesh: he had slipped his hand over the low neckline of her dress and now he cupped her breast, flicking the nipple with a finger.

The intensity of the blended pain and pleasure brought her back to herself, and she stiffened, eyes suddenly wide with shock at what she was doing.
 

“Oh God!” she gasped, horrified at the betrayal in which she had willingly participated.
 
The exclamation caused him to stiffen and release her abruptly, turning away, his gaze averted.

Tina saw him run a shaking hand through his hair, his back still to her.
 
She glanced down at her own clothing, straightening the fabric of her dress where it had been shifted by his seeking hands.
 
Her face was hot as she watched him pace restlessly away from her, his long legs, thick dark hair and broad shoulders unspeakably beautiful, despite his obvious discomposure.
 
His movements aroused a sense of deep hunger within her—a longing more intense than anything she had known before.
 

If he turned and renewed his embrace, would I have the strength to push him away a second time?
 
Self-disgust warred with pure, blind panic.

Despite the surge of shame tightening her throat, she continued to watch his abrupt movements with a voracious longing.
 
And, as she sorted through her feelings, a far more horrifying awareness began to penetrate her consciousness.
 
All her attempts at detachment had been futile, for in spite of her repeated self-admonitions to keep her distance, it had happened.
 
She had fallen in love with him.

She tried to force a deep breath into her lungs, but her ability to take in air was stolen away by his presence and the true understanding of what it was to love another human being without conditions or restrictions.
 

He turned and was starting back towards her, his eyes dark with remorse, his mouth opened to speak.
 

Tina shook her head, backing away from him, one hand raised in protest, the other pressed against her mouth to keep in the sob that threatened to burst out.
 

She stared at him for one burning moment, memorizing him—the lines of regret in his expression, the exhaustion of his features.
 
Those dark, mesmerizing eyes.
 
The hard muscles of his body, outlined by the immaculate cut of his clothing.

Then, spinning around, she ran back towards the manor, deliberately avoiding the knowledge that if all went as planned, she would never see him again.

Tina entered through the study doors and wiped the fresh film of tears from her eyes.
 
A glance behind confirmed that he hadn’t followed her, which meant she would be able to compose herself before leaving the sanctuary of this room.
 
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly.
 
Somehow, the run had helped.
 
She felt marginally better.

Straightening her dress once more, she ran a nervous hand over her hair, glad that their embrace had been obscured from any casual watchers in the manor by the carved hedges and the terracing of the garden.
 
Once she was certain everything was as presentable as it could be without access to a mirror, she willed her hands to be steady and exited the room.