The Seduction of Sarah Marks (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Lilith paced the floor, waiting for word on Eastleigh. Hemphill had finally given up trying to keep Will at bay and had told Lilith to remain in her room until he could escort her to Eastleigh.

She’d barely set eyes on him these past three days for all the laudanum Hemphill had insisted she take. And the few times he’d taken her to Eastleigh, her brain had been in such a fog, she could barely recall the visits.

Last night, she’d refused to be drugged, only to toss and turn until the wee hours, her nerves in a frazzle. Finally, she could stand it no longer and had made her way to Eastleigh’s quarters. At least surly Will had gone to bed, leaving Lilith free to sit beside her husband’s bed without concerning herself that she might be pounced upon at any moment. She’d remained with him until the break of dawn.

In the light of day, however, and with Will up and about, waiting for Hemphill to escort her seemed reasonable. Lilith doubted her fractured nerves could take much more of Will’s assaults. Damn that woman and her vile tongue. Where was Hemphill, for heaven’s sake?

What was she to do with herself until he showed up? She’d managed to drag out the completion of her toilette until the noon meal. But nearly three hours had passed since, with nothing to look forward to but high tea while awaiting word of Eastleigh’s condition. Alone. She’d wandered onto the balcony three times. No sense going out there again just to stare at flower beds she wasn’t about to dally in, not with Will down there digging around.

A light tapping sounded on her door. Distinctly Hemphill’s coded knock. Thank the Lord, he could take her to Eastleigh. She rushed to the door and opened it.

“Ridley,” was all she could manage with her breath freezing in her lungs.

He regarded her with that damnable penetrating gaze. He was much, much bigger than she remembered. But then she recalled he was a fraction smaller than Eastleigh. Perhaps it was the green jacket giving his shoulders a broader look or the fawn-colored breeches tucked into high-top, brown riding boots that made him appear taller. No matter—the truth of it was, the man created a formidable presence.

Daunted, she managed a breath and gathered courage. “What of Eastleigh?” How could her voice not be shaking? Her legs were.

“There’s no change in him.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’ve brought your letters.”

She glanced down at the packet in his hand. They were the missives she’d written to Eastleigh. He’d left them sitting on the corner of his desk. “Those belong to your brother. I can tell you so because I wrote them.”

“Interesting letters, these.”

“You read them?”

“Every word.”

“How awful of you. Those were private.”

“Were they, now?” He glanced over her shoulder. “We need to talk. And since there is no other place in this house by which to ensure we won’t be overheard, you should invite me in.”

He wished to invade her private space? “That wouldn’t be at all proper.”

A rueful smile touched his lips. He leaned a shoulder against the door frame and slowly slapped the letters against the palm of his other hand. “Does that mean you are perfectly at ease discussing your personal affairs with your door wide open for the servants to hear and pass on to every living relative?”

His piercing gaze trapped and held hers. Something inside her began to crumble. It would not do to let drop her well-bred mask—not in front of him, of all people. “I am not
personally fine
discussing any of my affairs with you, so please leave.”

“Unless you wish to have me force my way in, you had better reconsider.”

She stood in frank disbelief, staring at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His answering laughter tumbled along the corridor as he strolled inside.

Lilith stepped back until she stood nearly in the corridor. She glanced to her right just as a mob capped maid peeked out a bedroom door, then promptly disappeared.

The silence that followed strained her ears. She looked in the other direction and caught sight of a couple more servants peering. Oh, this simply would not do. Anger poured into all the places inside her that gave her courage. She stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind her.

Ridley sat in the center of a low, broad chair, the packet of letters balanced on one bent leg resting on the other knee.

Lilith moved to the open doors leading to the balcony. She kept her back to him. “You’re a strange lot, you Malverns.”

“And hopefully, we will remain as such.”

Was there humor lacing his words? What in heaven’s name was he up to? She clasped her hands together to cease their shaking.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting a woman like the one in these letters,” he said in a quiet voice.

She gave a start, and then strove for impassivity. “What are you getting at?”

“What I mean is, I understand why Eastleigh asked for your hand. He would’ve been quite taken with whoever wrote these.”

She wheeled around, shock prickling her body. “Are you insinuating I hired someone to create those on my behalf? I can assure you it was I who wrote every word.”

He studied her, slowly rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip, much as Eastleigh ran his over his chipped tooth. “I know that. But do you?”

The breath went out of her. She had no idea what he was getting at and wasn’t so sure she wanted to be made aware. “You should go now.”

“What are you so afraid of that you cannot let yourself be the delightful woman displayed in these letters? And why can you only be that person by using sheaves of paper as your shield?” He spread his arms wide, rested them in a lazy manner against the back of the chair, and regarded her through half-closed lids. “Tell me, Lilith.”

She tried to swallow against her suddenly parched throat, but gave up and stared at him, the air hanging heavy between them. With his leg still crossed one over the other, his arms slung over the chair, and his eyes much softer, he suddenly appeared relaxed and friendly.

“I’ve a feeling you could be nice if you wanted to be,” she said.

He lifted a brow. “Maybe I want to be.”

His response made her chest ache. Eastleigh did the same thing—set his head just so and lifted a brow whenever he slipped into a clever mood. “I do not understand you at all, Ridley.”

“Are you afraid of men?”

A shockwave jolted her. She swiped an unsteady hand across the thin film of perspiration forming on her brow. “You’ve been talking to Hemphill.”

He nodded, his gazed locked with hers.

“Did he tell you what I requested of Eastleigh?”

Again he nodded. “I also had a long talk with your mother after I read your letters. Or should I say, I sat Mrs. Stokes down and insisted she give up the family secrets. You, Lilith, are frightened of anything to do with the male species. And you are afraid to trust anyone, especially since you are a vicar’s daughter who feels even the Almighty God your cruel father yammers on about has betrayed you. You have little faith in anything or anyone. Yet you sought out a husband. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Go away.”

“No.”

Fresh tears stung the backs of her eyes. She had to get rid of him. “What is your purpose in coming here, Ridley? To torture me?”

“I came to escort you to my brother,” he said softly. “And I’ll not allow Will to bully you should you cross paths.”

Another something out of his mouth she hadn’t expected. Sudden desperation threatened to overwhelm her. He couldn’t know all of what had transpired between her and Eastleigh. Some words were better left unsaid. “That’s not the only reason you’ve invaded my quarters, is it?”

“Hear me out, Lilith. Don’t throw away what you two might build together because of some misguided notion he might treat you in a manner your father has.”

“It seems the good doctor was rather loose-tongued with you.” Her mind tracked back to her wedding night. And the pain. And then Eastleigh’s gentle words before he’d fallen, that he thought the two of them could be quite compatible. A torrent of emotions rained through her. She blinked back tears. Lord, would they never cease?

Ridley stood and held out a hand to her. “Hemphill came to me because he knew I had the letters and that I’d changed my mind about you. He only wants to help. Now come along.”

She stared at his open palm as conscious thought all but collapsed. His hand was broad and long fingered, with a signet ring on the smallest digit—so much like Eastleigh’s, yet somehow different. She placed her shaky palm against his, and feeling the heat, the pulse, the very life force beating within him, she jerked back.

“What is it, Lilith?”

“I…” She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around her waist. “A man’s hands can hurt.”

“Eastleigh would not use his to hurt you. Neither would I.” He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her to face him once again.

It was all she could do not to pull away.

“I gave you a fright the other day, and I am truly sorry. I’ve a bit of a temper that lands me in a fix now and then, but I would never strike you.”

When she stood there, not thinking but embracing his words in ways she’d never done before, the small smile left his lips. “Seeing as how I got your mother to give up your past, you ought to be able to have your turn at me. Anything else you’d care to inquire of me?”

She paused for a moment. “Not about you at the moment, but I’m rather curious as to what happened between Sir Robert Garrick and Eastleigh for them to be at odds.”

He lifted a brow. “You surprise me. I take it you’ve met my cousin?”

“Briefly.” She saw no reason to tell Ridley what had occurred that day.

“I’m not aware of what took place between them,” he said. “But since returning from the war, Rob will have nothing further to do with a Malvern. We were always close growing up. He was as much a brother to us as we four. It has something to do with Eastleigh, but we can’t figure out what.”

Eastleigh.
She looked up at Ridley but then turned a cheek, not wanting him to see the tears clouding her eyes yet again. She had to hurry him along lest they fall.

“It’s all right to weep in front of family, you know.”

“Is that what you consider me, Ridley? Family?”

“If you’ll let yourself be.”

“But what if Eastleigh doesn’t want me back after how I behaved? After what I demanded?”

“Then you’ll have to talk with Mum and let her help you change Eastleigh’s mind. If anyone can do it, she can.”

“But what if he still doesn’t want to make a life with me?”

“At this point, you have no guarantees of anything. If he doesn’t want you back, or if you do not wish to remain, at least you can be certain of where you stand. At any rate, you both have a good deal to work out, but in the long run, how can you make any other choice?”

He stretched out his hand to her again. “Lilith, I am asking you to trust me. For just a moment, put your hand in mine.”

She stared at it for a long moment. Then she opened hers, and he pressed his palm to it. “What’s the first thing you feel?”

“Fear.” She jerked away and wiped her hand on her skirt.

He watched her movements. “You feel no warmth? No secure sense of having a brotherly strength to lean on?”

She drew in a long breath. “I’m not sure.”

“Then try again.”

Once more, she reached out and placed her trembling hand in his. This time she forced it to remain until the shaking subsided. She felt the heat then, the warmth…and yes, a feeling he would not hurt her.

“There you go,” he said in a mellow voice. “As long as you remain Lady Eastleigh, you’ll not be alone. You’ve family now to keep you safe.”

She stared at his hand as his fingers closed around hers. Unshed tears clogged her throat, and she cleared it to get her words out. “I’m not certain I would want this kind of thing to become a regular habit.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Come Lilith. Your husband needs you.”

…

“Lilith.” Hemphill stood from where he sat in a chair and laid a book on the side table.

“Doctor.” She barely glanced at him, her attention riveted on the bed. As her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, she could tell Eastleigh’s color had returned. Her heart nearly broke loose from her ribcage. Even unconscious, he was a beautiful man. He was her husband. And it was her fault he lay so still.

Ridley gave Hemphill a nod. “You can take things from here. I’ll see they’re not disturbed.”

The door closed behind Ridley, and Hemphill offered Lilith a brief smile. “Good to see you.”

She gave a nod. “I’ve had a change of heart. I…I do hope Eastleigh will have one as well.”

Pulse racing, she stepped to his bedside and watched the thin blanket covering his bare chest slowly move up and down with his every breath.

Wake up!

A small noise escaped her lips. Catching hold of herself, she swallowed against unspent tears. For pity’s sake, could she have any left for all the weeping she’d done? Realizing her fists had balled, she released them and touched the back of her hand against the cool skin of Eastleigh’s brow. Her fingers stroked lightly through his curls. So thick, yet silken, as she’d always suspected. She touched the bandage covering the cut from his fall, and her breath hitched.

Remembering Hemphill, she speared him with a look that begged for the response she prayed for. “Tell me he’s going to be all right. Tell me he’ll not have lost his memory again.”

“I haven’t administered any laudanum since morning, so the medication should be wearing off soon. Then we’ll know where we stand as far as how his memory serves him. I’ll leave you alone for now. Use the bell pull if he awakens, or if you should need anything. Since we are all on the alert, you’ll get a quick response.”

Chapter Fourteen

A familiar, beckoning fragrance—but of what?—invaded Eastleigh’s jumbled senses. Supple fingers swept through his hair, slow and gentle.

Keep doing that.

His brain felt like slow moving sludge, but at least the bloody headache was gone. He’d been through this before. Many times. He drew a breath and waited for his mind to assemble.

A curious emotion pulled at him. Loneliness? No, he’d grown used to the hollowness such a feeling produced. His chest rose and fell in another long breath. What the devil had preceded his headache this time? He stilled his mind. It wouldn’t do to try and force recollections. To push only produced chaos.

Did he just moan?

The fingers through his hair ceased their gentle stroking.

Something shifted inside him. The wall barring his thoughts fell away.

Lilith.

The word acted like a catalyst, and his mind swirled into dizzying motion. God above. She wanted to leave him. And then everything came clear and the jagged pieces fell into place. All except for that one blasted part of his past that had yet to come forth. Anger bit into his gut. Nothing new, it always followed one of these sessions, yet it ran deeper this time. Because of her? Because he’d waited too long to take his powders and had done this to himself?

He managed to work his eyelids open. She sat in a chair at his bedside, hands folded in her lap. He studied her. She stared back, bold and guileless. And then she offered him a weak smile.

As he watched her, waiting for all his senses to fully awaken, a look of bewilderment washed over her countenance. The knuckles on her clasped hands turned white. Blankly, he surveyed the room, the silence intolerably heavy. The anger rolling through him wasn’t completely related to her—but a good deal of it was.

She cleared her throat. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “You’ve been asleep for nearly three days, what with the laudanum…”

What was she doing here? Did she still want the annulment? His gut wrenched at the idea.

What was it about her that he couldn’t leave her alone? Why would he want such a stiff prude anyway? Confusion caused his throat to grow thick, and an attempt to swallow failed. He squinted. “Open the blasted curtains. I can’t see a thing.”

She rose, rounded the foot of the bed, and moved to the balcony doors where she drew open the heavy blue fabric. “A rather cloudy day, I’m afraid, but there are flowers in the garden in full bloom. I’ll see to having fresh ones brought in.”

Her voice, light and cheery, fell on his ears, but he noted her shaking fingers as they paused briefly on the curtains. She dropped her hand and turned. He wanted to roar in defiance of her false, breezy tone.

Time slowed on her march back to him. As she neared the bed, his gaze settled on the sway of her hips, and his groin tightened. Odd, but she seemed more womanly than he remembered. She sat. It was as if he could feel her touching his skin. Heart racing, he refused to look away, his mouth a tight slit.

“Is the headache gone?”

“Completely.”

Despite her intent to appear relaxed, tension tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I am sorry you’ve been so ill. Doctor Hemphill said the laudanum would wear off by tomorrow. In the meantime, you should remain abed.”

With a rustle of the linens, he worked his way into a sitting position against the pillows, the bedcovers falling to his waist and exposing his bare upper body. She stared at his chest for a moment and then brought her gaze back up to meet his.

He raked his fingers through his hair. “If you’re still of a mind, we should discuss the terms of the annulment.”

A flicker of shock ran through her eyes. She turned a cheek to him for a brief moment, as if arranging her own thoughts. Then she held her head at a proud angle. “Really, sir, I’d rather we change the subject. At least for now. First off, we need to have Doctor Hemphill check you.”

He cocked a brow. “I suggest we not ignore the topic any longer.”

In the interminable silence that followed, their gazes locked. Derision rode wild in him, but nonetheless, disappointment at his own words seeped through him like water filling empty spaces between rocks.

Lilith sprang to her feet and moved to the wall holding the bell pull and gave it a good yank. Then she made her way to the door, her fingers grasping for the handle, reminding him of the day at the inn when she’d tried to escape the locked room. “I fear you are not up to a discussion at the moment. I need to fetch the doctor before we continue.”

“One hour,” he growled.

She made to step from the room but paused long enough to shoot him a sidelong glance. “Beg pardon?”

His harsh words would have undone anyone, but she held his gaze steady. “There’s no sense stringing this out any longer, Lilith. One hour and we shall have our discussion.”

Her chin lifted. “Don’t try and browbeat me into submission.”

“This is hardly the time to challenge me.” His dark mood turned black. “Be back here in an hour.”

“Or what?”

Despite her flippant response, she looked near tears. His head spun and the knot in his chest tightened to the point of suffocation.

She opened the door and hurried past Hemphill, who stepped inside.

“What the devil? She’s changed.”

“Indeed,” Hemphill said. “I doubt she’s in favor of the annulment any longer, but she has to be the one to tell you, not me. She’s having trouble expressing her feelings after having had a lifetime of being afraid to speak her mind, lest she be beaten. She is also filled with a great amount of guilt for what happened to you. She blames herself. You need to give her time. Don’t forget how long it’s taken you to heal.”

Eastleigh focused on the gray sky beyond the windows, his heart heavy in his chest. “I still have a long way to go. Is this the way it is to be, Hemphill? A spat between husband and wife and I’m back in bed for days on end? Perhaps loneliness wasn’t the lesser evil after all.”

…

Lilith entered her chamber, pressed her back against the closed door, and shut her eyes. How she’d had to fight against the backlash of her own fears. “Well, that went swimmingly.”

A rustling on the balcony brought her eyes open. “Mother?”

She stared at her mother’s stiffened back, acutely aware of how she herself had adopted the same stance years ago. Now she knew full-well why—it happened whenever she was afraid or hadn’t known what to expect. The deportment wasn’t in the least becoming, nor did it send out a warm message. How had she never noticed this cold remoteness before?

A firm resolve settled in her bones. Whatever it took, she would change her stiff bearing once and for all.

Her mother turned to her. Lips pursed, she gave Lilith a scathing once-over—an all-too-familiar gesture indicating verbal arrows were about to be slung. “Your husband has improved?”

Lilith studied her mother for a moment, an even greater sense of freedom and empowerment filling her as she stood with fine posture, but not as her mother did, in that formidable manner meant to keep everyone at bay. It might take some time…she might falter now and then…but she’d have it right in the end.

“He’s awake. The doctor is with him.”

Ridley’s words washed through her mind—
what are you afraid of
? Well, she intended to become exceedingly aware of what frightened her. And if those fears were dragons, she would slay them all—one by one. Entering Eastleigh’s chambers had been the first. The second was at hand. She moved onto the balcony and peered at the gardens below. “Is that why you’ve helped yourself into my quarters—to inquire of Lord Eastleigh’s health?”

Her mother moved to stand beside her. For a long, silent moment, she, too, regarded the flowers. Suddenly her back lost some of its stiffness, and the muscles in her face sagged. Unfolding her arms, she set her palms to the railing and leaned into it. “Were you aware that whenever you were beaten, if your father hadn’t completely worked out his anger, he waited until you were asleep and then turned his hand on me?”

Chills rippled nonstop along Lilith’s skin. “I…I thought I was the only one to bear the whip. When did he start with you?”

“Shortly after our nuptials.”

Dear Lord! “Had there been any hint of this kind of behavior before you wed?”

Her mother shook her head. “Whilst courting, his exemplary behavior would have put an angel to shame. He even wrote me sonnets.” A wistful note fluttered through her voice but disappeared in a blink. “Being the impoverished, third son of an earl, he didn’t want me so much as my father’s money.”

She gave a little huff and raised her chin. “A dowry—that’s all I was good for.”

For the first time, Lilith realized she shared not only some of her mother’s mannerisms, but her life-long pain. How had Lilith missed this? Had she so encased herself in ice in order to survive that she had been ignorant of Mother’s signals? “Why are you telling me this now?”

A look settled upon her mother’s countenance that Lilith had not seen before. Was she seeing compassion? Inner pain? “Because I want you to commit to making a decent life for yourself here. And I hope you will tell Eastleigh so directly. He is a good man, of a kind you’ll not likely encounter again.”

A memory of the awful pain and embarrassment Lilith had endured during their wedding night gave her a shudder. Eastleigh had given her one hour. To do what? March back into his chamber and remove her clothing and climb into his bed? Even though both Mum and Hemphill had said Eastleigh would be a growling bear upon awakening, she’d had to fight for enough courage just to get up and walk out on him and his ferocious mood.

She shoved a loose curl behind her ear. “Truth be told, Mother, I have realized that he is a good man, but I have great doubts that I am fit for the likes of him.” She rubbed harder at her arms and set to pacing. “Until today, I have not been able to let a man so much as offer his hand to escort me up a stair. Father—”

Her mother spread her arms wide as if tossing her emotions in the air. “Don’t be foolish, Lilith. Soon, there will be nothing but faded memories of your father’s cruelty. Look around you. This house vibrates with life and laughter. You will want for nothing here. And Eastleigh is a good man, the best you could ever hope for.”

Lilith swallowed the lump in her throat. “Eastleigh deserves far better than what I have to offer. Thus far, I have been a miserable excuse for a spouse.”

“Indeed, you have.” Her mother’s voice softened. “However, you can be the best wife he could ever hope to have if you set your mind to it.”

Lilith shuddered at another recollection of their wedding night.
Not with regard to the physical.
Only a few moments ago, he’d awakened a surly man. The growling voice, the fury in his eyes—all aimed at her. Would he end up like her father and take everything out on her when she failed to please him? The determination she’d had when she’d set out for his chambers had quickly faded. “I…I don’t know if I have what it takes to…to become what he desires in every sense of the word.”

“Desires?” Her mother’s piercing gaze held hers for a long moment. And then her shoulders sagged. “Oh, Lilith. I understand far more than you might think.”

She dropped her hands to her sides, and her tone lost its harshness. “I’m afraid much of what is working against you is my fault. I failed you as a mother in…” She lifted her chin. “In rather delicate matters. I fear in that regard, I cannot help you even now because I have never experienced the kind of love or tenderness that one reads about. That I want for you. I am terribly sorry.”

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “However, Mum is waiting for you. She’ll have the information you require.”

Lilith’s brows scrunched together. “Mum? Information?”

Her mother turned her back to Lilith but not before she caught the flush to her mother’s cheeks. “Despite her challenging my sensibilities, Mum can be a very wise woman when she so chooses. There are certain things you should know in order to become a…a decent wife. Things I cannot possibly explain since I have no experience of my own by which to relate. But Mum…well, she’s even spent the night with a sheik or two and still smiles when she recounts her stories. In vivid detail.”

A bubble of laughter worked its way up Lilith’s throat. “She’s told you such things?”

Her mother nodded. “Things I wish I would’ve known long ago.” She spun on her heel, displaying a kind of brilliance in her eyes Lilith had never seen. Then a vague, little smile brushed across her mother’s mouth, and she glanced over Lilith’s shoulder with a faraway look in her eye. “Please, go to her.”

Lilith backed out of the room and leaned against the corridor wall, quelling the emotion the strange conversation with her mother had produced. Then she swept down the hall to Mum’s chambers where, upon tapping on the door, she was bid to enter.

The sight of Mum’s room knocked Lilith near senseless. But why should she be surprised after her tales of the Middle East? There wasn’t so much as a scrap of wallpaper to be found. The walls, painted a bright, cobalt blue, held all manner of esoteric art—from smartly patterned carpets to hammered gold platters. She nearly stumbled over a full tiger skin, head and all. A strange animal with horns twisting in spirals was mounted over the fireplace. Had Mum taken the beast to ground on her own? She wouldn’t be surprised if that were true, not where this woman was concerned. Turning in a slow circle, she took in the myriad of colorful silks in pinks, oranges, and purples draping what passed for a bed and tenting the ceiling.

“Eastleigh’s awake, Mum. His headache is gone, and he seems to know me and his surroundings.” She decided to leave out the part about his terrible disposition and ultimatum.

Mum grinned. “Good enough, gel. Just make sure to keep out of his way for the next few hours. Even if he calls for you, hide out somewhere. He wakes up after one of these bouts in a frightful mood that would make Attila the Hun cower, but he’s over it soon enough. Care for a bit of the hookah?”

Lilith spied a tall emerald green bottle, its top encased in fine filigreed silver, standing next to Mum’s silk-covered chaise. A hose snaked from the glass container filled with water and smoke, then draped over Mum’s arm where she held the golden tip between her fingers. She puffed on it, a twinkle in her eye.