The Tantalizing Miss Coale (The Notorious Coale Brothers) (4 page)

‘D’you know, madam, I think stealing you away is too light a
punishment for this scoundrel.’

Henry snorted. ‘If you were a gentleman, sirrah, I would say
name your weapon!’

Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fists, I think...’

‘No!’ She ran forward as he made to dismount. ‘Do not fight
him,’ she begged. ‘Just take me away from here.’ She put her hand on his thigh.
‘Please, Ben.’

The quiet desperation in her voice touched him. He had learned
over the years not to jeopardise a mission for the sake of personal
gratification. Rescuing Sally was his goal, but he had not been prepared for his
sudden anger when he saw Nettleton. The thought of the villain forcing himself
upon Sally filled him with rage.

But it would not do, he was not related to Sal, and he had no
right to seek satisfaction on her behalf. He would see her safely to her friends
and then he would leave her and get on with his own life.

He reached down and pulled her up before him. When she was in
his arms he lifted the pistol and fired into the air. Morgan pricked his ears
and snorted nervously, but the carriage horses shied wildly and set off along
the road while the coachman scrabbled to collect up the reins. Sir Henry ran
after them, shouting angrily.

Ben gave a grunt of satisfaction.

‘I saw that fool coachman had dropped the ribbons.’ He looked
down. ‘Are you all right, Sal?’

‘I think so,’ she clung on to him, dazed by this turn of
events. ‘How did you know...?’

‘I saw Nettleton taking you away and guessed you had not gone
willingly.’

‘You came back for me?’

Those dark eyes gazing up at him were almost his undoing. He
looked away, saying curtly, ‘Hush now, we must make haste away from here.’

The horse settled into a long, easy stride and Ben tried not to
think about the dainty figure sitting before him with her arms wrapped around
his body. A stray curl had escaped from beneath the frivolous little hat she had
pinned over her hair and it tickled his cheek, carrying with it her elusive
perfume. He fought down the urge to bend his head closer and breathe in the
sweet scent of her. Better to remember she was a dangerous distraction. Hell’s
teeth he should have been well on his way home by now, to the comfortable villa
he had built for himself in Derbyshire. He should be thankful to Sally Coale. By
rejecting him, she had freed him to pursue a dangerous and lucrative career. The
modest fortune he had inherited was now considerably enlarged. He could afford
to take a wife and keep her in luxury, if he so wished. Only the woman in his
arms had destroyed all such dreams two years ago.

‘I have just remembered one of your early visits to Markham.’
She looked up at him, a lilting smile on her lips. ‘My horse went lame and you
had to carry me thus. You are always rescuing me.’

He fought against responding to that smile.

‘I am not doing this for you. I merely saw a way to thwart your
father.’

She quickly looked away, but not before he saw the droop of her
mouth and read the disappointment in her face. He hardened his heart against an
apology. He was no longer a boy to be caught by her woman’s tricks.

Chastened, Sally remained silent. She had been foolish to
mention their happy times together. One could not bring back the past. They had
both changed. Ben had grown harder. He was no chivalrous knight coming to her
rescue, more a devil bent upon revenge. Disappointment was bitter on her tongue
but she swallowed it. What did it matter why he was doing this, as long as he
helped her escape.

She had no idea of their direction but leaned close to Ben as
their route took them through woodland and across open fields. She did not
really care where they went. She found herself wishing they could ride on like
this forever. Comfortably ensconced in his arms, she could pretend he still
cared for her. How long he would be with her she had no idea, she did not want
to think of that, only that he was with her here, now.

It was growing dark by the time they turned down a narrow,
little-used lane and in the dying light she could just make out a low building
with a steeply pitched roof.

‘This lodge belongs to an elderly relative of mine,’ he said.
‘A widow who owns the large estate that we are now crossing. She leaves it
vacant in case I have need of it.’

Ben collected the key from beneath a stone and opened the door.
He led her into a small wainscoted room with a large fireplace at one end. A
basket of logs stood to one side.

‘If you have kindling and a tinder box, I will light the fire,’
she offered, trying to shake off the feeling of unreality.

By the time Ben returned from unsaddling Morgan, Sally had a
cheerful fire burning in the hearth. The flames and a small oil lamp cast a warm
glow around the room. There was only one seat, a small, cushion-covered settle,
which Sally dragged closer to the hearth.

‘Ah, this is much more homely.’

His cheerful praise warmed her as much as the fire. He dropped
his portmanteau in one corner.

‘All we need now is a good meal.’ He handed her his saddlebag.
‘It is not a banquet, I’m afraid, but I had the landlady put me up some food and
wine before I left Boroughbridge this morning and I have not yet touched it.
Unpack it and see what we have while I find plates and glasses...’

* * *

An hour later they were sitting together on the settle,
the remains of their meal spread on the little table by the window.

Sally gave a sigh of contentment. ‘I had not realised how
hungry I was.’

‘Fortunately the landlady thought I needed nourishment,’ said
Ben, refilling the glasses. ‘She gave me enough food for two.’

‘More than enough,’ she replied. ‘We have a little bread and
some fruit left for the morning.’ She paused. ‘I have not thanked you for
rescuing me. It was very kind of you.’

‘Not kind.’

‘No, of course.’ She bent her head. ‘You wanted revenge upon my
father.’

‘Can you blame me?’

‘Do you want to punish me, too?’

He shook his head.

‘Not anymore. Tomorrow I will deliver you to your friends in
Murton and have done with you.’

‘Yes, I think that would be for the best.’ She paused. ‘I would
not have you think too badly of me.’

He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Too late for that.’

Her head dipped lower. She said quietly, ‘I would like to
explain, if I can.’

He settled back and stretched his long legs out towards the
fire. Why not? It would help to pass the time.

‘You can try,’ he said shortly.

‘I told you that I thought Papa was going to force me to marry
Cromer.’

‘Yes. That was why you agreed to run away with Nettleton.’

She bit her lip.

‘Henry came to see me, declared his affection for me and said
he would do anything for me, so...so I said we must elope. I did not know then
that he and Papa had concocted the whole plan between them.’

‘And when did you discover you had been hoaxed?’

‘This morning. Henry went out and I decided to tidy up the
little desk where he had been writing a letter. I noticed there was writing on
one sheet and I picked it up.’ She paused, frowning at the memory. ‘I think
Henry concealed his letter from me this morning, pushing it underneath this
sheet while the ink was still damp and an image had transferred itself. The word
“Markham” is very similar when it is written backwards. I held the paper up to a
mirror.’ The shock and horror of what she discovered now returned and she
shivered. ‘Henry had written to my father, assuring him that all was going to
plan and he hoped to...to have me wedded and bedded within days.’

‘The cunning old devil.’

‘Who, Henry?’

‘No, your father. He knew if he tried to force you to marry
Nettleton, you would be likely to reject him at the altar and seek the
protection of your brothers.’

She nodded vehemently. ‘I would.’

‘So he concocted this charade to make you think the idea of
marriage was all your own. Nettleton gets a willing bride, and Markham links the
neighbouring estate to his own. No doubt it is a considerable acreage?’

‘Yes.’ She scowled. ‘Henry is considerably richer than Cromer.
I knew Papa would not want me to marry a lord just for his title, but I thought
it was because they were old friends. I should have realised such a thing as
friendship would not weigh with him.’

‘You have to admit, Sal, it was a clever plan.’

‘It was
devilish
.’

He knew her too well to miss the quaver of fear in her
voice.

‘Is there more?’ He saw her hands tighten on the glass until
the knuckles gleamed white, even in the dim light. He said quietly, ‘Tell me,
Sal.’

‘Papa was determined to have my filial obedience. He told me if
I did not do as I was bid he would have his doctor declare me insane.’ Her eyes
flickered towards him. ‘He said I have been nothing but a damned nuisance all my
life, and if I would not obey him in this, then he would have me put away.’

Ben frowned.

‘What about Jasper, or Dominic? Surely they would not allow
such a thing.’

‘They were in London and Papa had me watched, to make sure I
could not send them word of what he proposed.’

‘It is no wonder you were prepared to run off with
Nettleton.’

‘But it wasn’t a hoax. He really did have a letter from Doctor
Rathbone.’ She reached for her reticule and drew out the paper she had taken
from Nettleton. ‘Henry showed it to me in the booking office. He said if I made
a fuss he would use it.’

She held it out to Ben. Anger roared up inside him as he read
it, but forced himself to speak calmly.

‘So it was marriage or an asylum.’

‘Yes.’

He handed it back to her.

‘Burn it, Sal. Burn it now, before it can do you more
harm.’

She knelt before the hearth and held the paper in the fire,
watching as the paper blackened and flared. Only when the flame threatened her
fingers did she drop the letter onto the logs, watching the heat consume it,
until there was nothing left but ash. Ben came to kneel beside her as he added
another log to the blaze. She was not aware of him, her eyes fixed on the
dancing flames.

‘How could my own father be so cruel?’

‘You sound surprised.’

‘I thought he loved me.’

A tear glistened on her lashes. He lifted his hand to wipe it
away.

‘I am sorry, Sal.’

She did not move as his knuckles grazed her cheek, but the
touch of her soft skin held him like a magnet. He gently drew the back of his
hand along the line of her jaw, caressing the dainty chin. She turned to face
him and his fingers moved slowly around her neck, under her hair. He applied no
pressure but she drifted towards him, raising her mouth to meet his. It was a
soft kiss, as delicate as a feather. Her touch inflamed him, igniting the fire
that he knew now had never quite died, but he reined in his own desire. He
sensed her uncertainty and held back, he would do nothing until she was
ready.

Sally found herself almost sighing with content as his mouth
caressed her lips, reassuring, comforting. Slowly her sadness fell away,
replaced by a deep peace, as if she had finally come home. His kiss was gentle,
tender, and gradually Sally became aware of a change in herself. She put her
hands on his shoulders and began to kiss him back with ever more urgency. He
gathered her in his arms, holding her close as she drove her fingers through his
hair. His tongue explored her mouth and played havoc with her senses. She was on
fire. When he raised his head, breathing raggedly, she arched towards him,
pushing her body into his. He kissed her neck and hugged her so tightly she
feared she might crumble. He laughed, the sound muffled against her skin.

‘I want to take you to bed, now.’

She kissed his ear, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

‘Then why don’t you?’ The glow in his eyes sent bolts of desire
plunging through her, making her tremble. ‘Take me to bed, Ben. Now.’ She was
pleading with him, but she did not care. Her body was aching with a longing she
had never known before.

‘There isn’t one. At least there is a bed, but the room will be
cold and damp.’

She took his face in her hands.

‘Then let us lie here,’ she whispered, pulling him closer and
giving a little sigh of frustration when he held her off.

‘One moment.’ He fetched his greatcoat and spread it on the
floor before the hearth, then pulled the cushions from the settle. ‘There. It is
not a bed fit for a queen, but it will have to do.’

Impatiently she pulled him down beside her.

‘I am not a queen,’ she murmured, starting to unbutton his
coat, ‘and I think it will be perfect.’

They undressed each other, slowly at first, their progress
hampered by the need to exchange any number of heady kisses, but at length their
passion was too fiery to wait and they tore off the remaining garments, lying
amongst discarded linen and in a confusion of tangled limbs and hot kisses,
searching, exploring, relishing each other’s pleasure.

Sally’s body arched as his hand slid over her bare shoulder and
brushed across her breasts, the nipples tightening and straining for his touch.
Ben paused for a moment to study her, fire burning in his eyes as they ran over
her body. His hand rested on her waist, she felt the warmth of his palm on her
skin. She was transfixed by the magnificence of his nakedness, golden in the
firelight. She had dreamed of him, imagined how he would look thus, but nothing
prepared her for the hot, urgent flush of need that engulfed her as her eyes
travelled from the wide muscled shoulders down to the lean narrow waist and hips
and the evidence of his own desire. Her mouth went dry.

I am a virgin,
she thought.
I should be afraid of this.
But eagerness for Ben’s
caresses put her fear to flight. She opened her arms invitingly and he lay down
beside her, kissing her gently while his hand moved slowly over her body. Her
thighs ached for him but even when she sighed with impatience he would not
hurry. He lowered his head to press a series of gentle kisses on the slender
column of her neck, his tongue flickering over her skin as he moved across the
swell of her breasts. His tongue circled one hard tip then the other, sending
little darts of pleasure down through her core. She moved restlessly as his hand
smoothed over her stomach, setting the flesh tingling. When his fingers brushed
her inner thigh she tilted her hips up invitingly.