WitchofArundaleHall (5 page)

His gaze narrowed. “You are my wife.”

“You cannot promise me you will not Claim me. If you touch
me—” She would surrender. Couldn’t he see that? No. All he could see was that
she wouldn’t let him have her.

“You make no sense. I can see that you want me,” he said
arrogantly, and reached for her.

She darted away from him and winced at the shock on his
face. “Lady North said—”

“She’s a liar.”

“Will you take that chance? If I submit to your lust and I
am unable to break the curse, then—” She didn’t want to say the words.

“What? Is it so horrible to be mated to a man who carries a
beast beneath the surface that you would rather break the curse than be with
me?” He clearly didn’t understand.

“There’s more at stake than our lust, Perry.” She inhaled
deeply and spoke. “I can’t do this. Any child I bear will die.”

“I promised I would not Claim you. Without my seed you won’t
get with child.” He lifted an eyebrow mockingly. “You do know where babies come
from, don’t you?”

“Lady North said—”

Perry threw up his hands. “Why do you believe anything she
says? Is that woman to control everything, including my bedchamber?”

“She showed me copies of scrolls from Bayeux. That’s why I
must go there to see them. That’s why—”

“None of this explains why I am not bedding you on our
wedding night,” he interrupted her in a flat tone.

“I cannot take that risk.” She knew he would never
understand how important it was for them both that she resist.

The harsh expression on his face made her despair. His tone
was expressionless. “So you don’t believe me.”

How could she deny it? She trusted him but the beast beneath
was unpredictable. “Can’t we remain friends? Can’t we—”

She stopped at the steady, numb-looking expression on his
face. “Friends? My word would count for something then, wouldn’t it?” He shook
his head. “We were never friends, Sarah. But I will not force you. I could
convince you but you would hate me in the morning.” He stepped closer and
gripped her arm. She shuddered, her blood pumping and her heartbeat erratic. When
he jerked her into his arms she could only stare at him.

His lips pounded hers, a wild, frantic kiss that melted away
any thought of resistance or abstinence. When his tongue swept inside her mouth
she tangled hers with it. When his hands threaded through her hair she moaned. His
cock pressed against the fiery juncture between her thighs that ached for him,
needed him. She was lost.

Then he tore his mouth from hers and released her. She
stumbled backward, her knees like water. She couldn’t bear to see the wretched
hurt in his gaze or the anger in his tightened lips and clenched fists.

“Do not pretend that breaking the curse is about freeing me
when we both know you are the only one who wishes to escape.” The bleak
desolation that swept through his gaze made her heart shatter. “I will respect
your wishes and stay out of your bed.”

“Perry—”

He gave her a jerky bow and left the room, slamming the door
behind him with a solid bang.

Sarah collapsed on the bed, tears streaming down her face.

Time passed but she paid no attention. Her candle had burned
down low and her eyes were swollen and sore from crying. She was a fool. Why
couldn’t Perry understand that she could not bind them irrevocably together like
that? Why did he force her to push him away?

She’d hurt him badly, she knew. During the years spent as an
invisible servant in his home she’d seen him when his spirit had been crushed
by some careless word or callous treatment from his extended family. She had
seen that pinched expression many times. Now she had been the cause of it.

Sarah lay facedown on her bed, her crying fit over, her head
aching, and wondered if she was doomed to unhappiness. In the wee hours of the
morning she reviewed every touch, every look Perry had given her. What else was
a bride to do when she had turned out her groom and lay weeping on her bed?

The day they were scheduled to leave for France seemed an
eternity away. How was she supposed to put on the act of a happy bride with
things the way they had become? Worst of all, she and Perry were committed to
attending a luncheon party in their honor. Invitations had gone out and there
was no escaping it.

She stared at the ceiling of her room and wondered if Perry
was asleep. It seemed hours since she’d tossed him from their bed. It was for
the best. She had to break the curse and she was sure that could not be done if
he Claimed her. The truth was that she was unsure she wouldn’t beg him to do
just that, despite the consequences.

No. She had to remain strong. If the curse could be broken then
they would be free of this…obsession. Yet what would it be like to be Claimed
as his? To be marked, owned, possessed by him?

It aroused her like no other thought, no tableau she’d
observed at Wolford House. The thought of his hands on her, restraining her,
demanding her surrender made her wet with need.

She slid her fingers over her slit and stroked the nub
there. Splinters of pleasure rippled through her. As she visualized Perry’s
gaze on her, watching her fuck herself with her fingers, she gasped for breath.
But she could not come. For what seemed like forever she rubbed herself, fucked
herself with her hand, but she could not let go. She needed him to tell her to
come.

“Bollocks,” she said out loud, and tossed the covers off. When
she sat up she heard him just outside her door. It was him. It had to be. Her
doubt was removed when an eerie, heartbreaking howl broke the silence.

She heard the agony, the desperation in his cry. Her own
heart joined him in the sad loneliness. As she yanked the covers back over her
head, she started to question whether it was really for the best. Or whether
she was just afraid.

The next few days were a torture and Perry knew his behavior
left much to be desired. In truth he felt like a wounded animal, snapping at
everyone and limping through his existence. Neither Madame de Laval nor Mr.
Asher had asked any questions and that, at least, was a relief.

He believed none of the nonsense about Sarah’s children. It
was another ploy by Lady North to torment them, to hurt the Arundale family. But
he had his pride. He’d provided the protection of his name to his new bride and
stopped the vicious rumors that Lord Robert had begun and Lady North had
confirmed.

The news of his marriage had become the newest gossip,
spread by Sarah’s selfish brother. The ton must be bored indeed to have found
news of his marital state of interest.

Unfortunately callers stopped by the infamous Madame de
Laval’s residence to visit the newly married couple. He had hoped to face them
with confidence. Instead he was forced to sit coldly beside his wife, who
refused to belong to him in any way except in name.

It made the calls by rejected women in his past painful. Unlike
his father, Perry had refused to take titled women of the ton to his bed, since
he had nothing to offer but blood and violence, and many of them had resented
his…method of distancing himself. He had inherited a vicious tongue from his
grandmother and it tended to let loose when he had been drinking. That had
been, sadly, all too often.

Three days after Sarah had tossed him out of their bedroom,
stating that she did not trust him or care for him, he sat in the drawing room
with another successful woman from the ton, a Lady Bastworth. She’d been Miss
Greenway when he’d ignored her innocent attempts to capture his attention. As
he remembered it, and his memory was hazy, he’d been a complete cad, laughing
at her seduction techniques and offering her a critique to help her.

Now she was Lady Mary Bastworth, visiting her distant
relation Miss Sarah Ayers. Her bright brown eyes were filled with curiosity and
animosity toward him. “I have received my invitation to the luncheon, of
course,” she said, and smiled at Sarah. Could Sarah see that it did not reach
her eyes?

“We would have had a ball,” Sarah answered with a cold smile
of her own. “But we are bound for France in three more days.”

“Oh, a trip to the Continent.” Lady Bastworth clasped her
hands together. “I’m sure Perry will be an excellent guide.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” She turned to him and he
stifled a heavy sigh. “I did not think you’d been to France, Perry.”

Was he the only one who could hear the bitterness in her
words? “I have not. Perhaps Lady Bastworth is thinking of my brother. He lived
in Jamaica.”

But nothing was going to shut the woman up. “I was thinking
of your…knowledge of the Continental ways,” Lady Bastworth said with a sly
glance at him. “Perhaps I misunderstood you.”

Behind those sharp brown eyes was the young girl to whom
he’d been so cruel. He tried to remember that. “Did you?”

“I’m sure I did,” Lady Bastworth continued, and gave Sarah a
quick glance. “Your manners were so…different from all my rather gauche
acquaintances.” She leaned forward and touched Sarah’s knee. “Once, when we
attended the same ball, he explained the intricacies of…certain items. I was
certainly shocked.” Then the woman smiled at him. “Perhaps he found me
too…innocent.”

He’d had enough. “You are quite right to say my manners were
different. I was a brute, drunk and angry at our last meeting, and treated you
abominably. You certainly did not deserve my censure.” He rose to his feet and
took the woman’s hand and kissed the air above it. “I can only offer my sincere
apology for my behavior. But your resentment against me does not warrant any
slurs against my wife.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I assure you that I am being
reticent compared to what is said in general.”

Sarah clenched her hands together and stared at them in her
lap. Perry felt helpless against this tide of antagonism, which was now
directed toward her but was his to own.

“Perhaps you have not heard,” he said harshly, his gaze
narrowed on Lady Mary’s face. “We are man and wife. That is all the ton
requires for respectability.” He opened his mouth to say more, something that
would end the conversation once and for all. Instead he remembered this woman
as she had been—a young girl who had been humiliated by a cad. “I am sorry,
Lady Mary, that I was a brute to you in the past. That is all I can offer. My
wife is a woman deserving of your good opinion, the daughter of a gentleman and
from a good family. I am well aware that I am the one with whom you have a
quarrel. Perhaps my absence will remedy the situation. If you will excuse me.” Perhaps
if he left, Sarah would not be subject to such animosity.

As he strode toward the door, Mary’s voice halted him. “Wait.”

He turned back and Mary stared at the gloves in her hands. “I
thank you for your apology, Perry. I will not deny that I came here to seek
restitution.” Her gaze met his.

He bowed and opened the door. “I hope that I have, for once,
provided you satisfaction.”

The woman shot a glance at Sarah then back to Perry’s face. “You
once told me that a woman who threw herself at you held no attraction for you. At
the time I believed you were criticizing me. But you weren’t, were you?” Mary’s
head tilted, her expression one of curiosity.

“No,” he said. “Though I will admit I hoped my words would
hurt you. I believed a woman interested in me was a fool. That I am married to
Lady Sarah is due to luck, not merit.” When he met Mary’s gaze he twisted his
lips into a smile.

She studied him seriously. “I find that I am getting no
enjoyment from watching you in pain, Perry. I find it only makes me pity you
both.” Sincerity rang in her tone. No, she had not been entirely comfortable in
the role of vengeful woman. But he had been particularly cruel in his dealings
with her.

It took effort but he forced another smile. “Clearly a woman
deeply in love. I can only say that your husband is known to me and you are a
very lucky woman. You deserve every good thing, Mary, and I wish them all for
you.”

She held out her hand. “I forgive you, Perry. I do most
earnestly.”

As it was much more than he deserved he accepted her hand
and squeezed it. “Thank you, Lady Bastworth.”

The woman turned to Sarah and pulled on her gloves. “I was
mistaken about you, Lady Sarah. I can see that. I can see that with you Mr.
Arundale is much improved. You are a better woman than I.”

Sarah rose and curtsied. “Thank you, Lady Mary.”

When Lady Mary was gone Sarah would not meet his gaze. “I
will make sure there will be no more callers.”

Perry nodded and went to the window to stare at the London
street below. He had hoped to avoid these collisions with his past but he
supposed they were inevitable. No wonder Sarah wanted nothing to do with him. His
past was a strike against him.

“The luncheon is tomorrow at one,” she said as she returned
to the drawing room.

He could not bear to look at her. “I shall be ready.” Lady
Bastworth was a reminder. He did not deserve love, so he received none. He had
done his duty and married the woman he had ruined. That he loved her was of no
consequence.

“Lady North will be there.” Sarah’s voice was small.

“We can deal with her.” Perry didn’t think there was
anything his grandmother could say that she hadn’t said in his head a thousand
times.

“She is vicious when angered,” Sarah said, and the rustle of
her skirt revealed that she had moved closer to him. “You should let me handle
her.”

“No.” There was no other answer. Sarah had never been Lady
North’s target. Perry of all people was aware of what the old bitch was capable
of.

Your mother didn’t want you, Perry. You were an accident,
an anomaly. They only wanted each other, and Joshua to carry the title. Why
would she want you?

“Perry—”

He whipped around and glared at her. “You may deny me your
bed, deny the bond between us, but you will not defy my word in our marriage. Lady
North has a nasty tongue and I will not allow her to hurt you.” He curled his
lip, his hurt and anger rising. “Since you will allow me nothing else, you will
respect me in this.”

Her lower lip trembled for an instant before she pressed
them together and her eyes narrowed. “We should face her together.”

He laughed, bitterly amused. “And give her the very weapon
she needs to destroy me? I think not.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah’s brow furrowed into a frown.

“I mean that two minutes in our presence will reveal that
our marriage is loveless and unconsummated. Lady North is adept at intuiting
things like that.” He shook his head. “Leave her to me. And Madame de Laval.”

Sparks shone in Sarah’s blue eyes. “Now I understand.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you understand?”

“Madame is to supplant me, take my place by your side so
that when you discard me after I break the curse—” Sarah stopped and bit her
lip.

He stared at her. “That’s insanity.”

“Is it?” She poked him in the chest. “Ever since we’ve met
you’ve caroused and seduced women. Is it any wonder that I’m cautious?”

He snorted. “Cautious? Is that what you’re calling it? You’re
right, Sarah. I’m a scoundrel, a wicked man and a fool.” He swept his gaze from
her hair to her slippered toes. “But I am the man in this marriage. Defy me at
your peril.”

She tossed her head. “I’m not afraid of you. You won’t hurt
me.”

“I could make you want me.” He stepped closer and towered
over her. “I could destroy you with your own desire.” He sniffed and smiled as
he scented the warm, intoxicating smell of his woman. “You want me now. I can
smell it.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she snapped.

He cocked his head to the side. “It would be an easy task,”
he said, wanting to inflame her.

What he didn’t expect was her familiar right hook. He
stopped her fist an instant before it connected with his nose. “I don’t think
so,” he said. But touching her, gripping her hand, loosed the beast and his
control slipped. “I warned you.”

She let out a squeak as he yanked her toward the settee to
turn her over his knee. He’d desired to spank her again since that fateful
night at Wolford House. Now he was going to make her come from it. His own
desires be damned. He would prove to her that he was more dangerous to her than
she believed.

Jealousy had burned in Sarah’s stomach since she’d rejected
Perry on their wedding night. He’d kept away from her and she was sure he’d
found relief with someone else. The reason she’d focused on Madame de Laval was
that the woman was so beautiful and desirable, and it was clear that she and
the man she loved, Mr. Asher, would provide pleasure to a third party.

In the early hours of the morning when she couldn’t sleep, she
had tormented herself with visions of the erotic couple with Perry. Many times
she’d resisted her desire to go to Perry and retract her words.

Now she fought him wildly, squirming in his implacable hold.
“Let me go, you—you beast!”

He swung her toward him, his face thrust close to hers. “Now
you have the right of it. I am a beast, a monster, evil, wicked…and your
husband.” He jerked her over his knee and yanked her skirts up. She’d thought
her petticoats would prove a frustration to his intent but she was wrong. He
made short work of the linen layers between her body and his touch.

“No,” she protested, but it was no use. He spanked her, his
slaps on her buttocks sharp and precise.

“Yes,” he said, his tone angry. “You. Are. Mine.” He
punctuated each word with a smack to her bottom that made her moan.

He whipped her around and plundered her mouth, his punishing
lips leaving her no room to escape even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t want
to. She opened her mouth and arched in his arms. His. She was his.

All her good intentions, all her good sense deserted her and
she was as needy and aggressive as Perry. As his hands roamed over her breasts
she shifted to give him better access. Shamelessly she returned his kiss, as desperate
for him as he seemed to be for her.

He broke the kiss but only to plant more on her throat and
bite her. Shards of pain mixed with desire shuddered through her, driving her
to thrust her fingers through his hair and press him closer.

“Sarah,” he groaned against her flesh. He lifted his head
and met her gaze.

His gray eyes were the familiar luminous blue and the
transformation brought her to her senses. “No!” She shoved him away and tumbled
off his lap, almost landing on her arse.

Her hands shook as she tried to straighten her skirts and
hair. When she finally looked at him her heart clenched. The grim expression of
defeat on his face made her stomach churn and she had to grit her teeth to remain
quiet.

The silence between them was painful. She opened her mouth
to break it, to tell him she loved him heart and soul, but she couldn’t do it. Instead
she stumbled toward the door and escaped, thankful that Perry didn’t stop her.

* * * * *

What a disaster. Oh, outwardly the wedding luncheon was
perfect and had enough food for everyone, but Sarah knew it had been an utter
nightmare.

First of all, every low family connection she had in the
whole of England had appeared on her doorstep uninvited. And then her brother had
proceeded to drink excessively while the rest of the party looked on.

The worst moment had been, as Sarah had feared, when Lady
North had begun to share her opinion of the newly wedded couple.

“You might have informed your own grandmama of this sudden
attachment, Perry,” she said in a loud, piercing tone. “Your bride couldn’t
have enjoyed being rushed to the altar.”