“My lord,” she hissed, “you should be getting back to the carriage. The Lyndwoods will be waiting.”
“I have one or two things to say to you first.” He stood in the midst of the fragrant, deeply shadowed garden, a tall, lean, menacing figure as dark and dangerous as the night.
Victoria summoned up her courage. “I must tell you, Stonevale, that I have no wish to endure a lecture for what happened this evening. I am already quite aware that none of us would have been in jeopardy if I had not insisted upon going to the fair.”
“In that, Miss Huntington, you are correct.”
The total lack of emotion in his voice was far more unnerving than a scolding would have been. But Victoria suddenly remembered the way he had defended her in the alley. Impulsively she touched his sleeve.
“I know I am deeply indebted to you, my lord, but I must tell you quite truthfully that up until the moment the crowd turned violent, I was having a fine time. I cannot remember when I have enjoyed an outing more.” She took a deep breath when there was no response and rushed on. “I would also have you know, my lord, that I thought you were quite wonderful. Very cool under fire, as they say. You got us free of the mob and I assure you I shall never forget the way you handled those two footpads in the alley. For that, my thanks.”
“Your thanks,” he repeated in a considering tone. “I am not certain that is sufficient reward under the circumstances.”
Victoria looked up at him, suddenly aware that Aunt Cleo’s botanical garden was a very dark and lonely place at this hour of the night. She wondered for one awful moment if Stonevale was going to lose his grip on the reins of his temper, and then she started wondering what she should do if he did. Belatedly she took a step back.
“My lord?”
“No,” he said, as if having reached a conclusion. “Your paltry thanks are not enough for what I have been through and what I undoubtedly have yet to endure.”
Without any warning Lucas’s hands closed around her shoulders, and in one smooth, swift motion he backed her up against the garden wall.
Before Victoria could react, Lucas moved in close, so close that the hard, unforgiving length of his body pressed against her much softer frame.
Lucas’s booted foot slid between her legs. Victoria froze for an instant, held still by the shock of his muscled thigh alongside her own leg. Her eyes widened in the moonlight as she looked up into Stonevale’s starkly etched face.
“You are a hotheaded, reckless hoyden; a little shrew who is badly in need of taming before she lands in serious trouble. If I had any sense, I would end this here and now,” Lucas rasped.
Victoria licked her dry lips. “End what, my lord?”
“This.” His mouth came down on hers with a fierce, plundering heat that made her fully aware, at last, of the true extent of his dangerous mood.
She had been prepared for his anger but nothing could have readied her for the masculine arousal that poured over her in a searing conflagration.
Stonevale wanted her.
Victoria was momentarily stunned by the sensual assault. She had been kissed a few times by daring or desperate suitors and once or twice because her own curiosity had gotten the better of her. But she had never known anything like the rough, deep, demanding kiss that held her now.
She trembled and her fingers clenched around Lucas’s upper arms. He responded with a husky groan and then he was crushing her into the ivy, his thigh forcing her legs further apart. Victoria felt the small jabs of the vines and inhaled the fragrance of crumpled leaves and the musky scent of Lucas’s body. Her head spun as if she were being whirled about on a dance floor.
When she felt Lucas’s tongue slide along her lower lip, she opened her mouth for him in the same instinctive, unquestioning manner in which she had earlier followed him to safety.
She flinched when his hands circled her waist, but she did not struggle as she knew she should, not even when she felt his thumbs glide up to rest just under the weight of her small breasts.
“My lord,” she managed in a ragged voice as he freed her mouth to catch the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “My lord, I don’t know … that is, you ought not to be doing this.”
“I want you to have good cause to remember me, Victoria,” Lucas whispered.
Victoria swallowed hard, trying to collect herself. “I assure you, I am not likely to forget you.”
“Excellent.”
His teeth grazed her tender earlobe, causing no real pain but leaving her with a disquieting sensation of vulnerability. The odd caress left Victoria feeling shaken to the depths of her being. Her insides turned warm and her pulse quickened.
Without stopping to think, she moved her hands up to twine her arms around Lucas’s neck. She liked the scent of him, she realized. She also liked the feel of his strong shoulders under her hands. She was acutely aware of the heavy, masculine bulge outlined by his tight breeches.
“This,” Lucas whispered, “is going to prove a most interesting association.” The anger seemed to evaporate from him in that moment, leaving only the desire—his eyes alive and glittering with it.
“Do you think so?” Victoria was feeling very daring now as she looked up at him. The recent rush of euphoric relief engendered by the close brush with danger was meshing with another kind of thrill, a new and unfamiliar thrill, a thrill of deep sensuality. She felt oddly weak and realized she was clinging to Lucas.
“You don’t realize it yet, but you have handed me the keys to the citadel. I know your secrets now, and I give you fair warning, I will use them to court you.”
“Court me?” Victoria woke from her dazed, sensual reverie.
“I mean to court you, woo you, seduce you. I will make you mine, Victoria. Only the bravest, most determined of suitors would endure what I shall be obliged to endure in order to win you, but in the end I will have you.” His smile was slow, dangerous, and infinitely compelling in the moonlight.
“What makes you think I will ever surrender to you, my lord?”
“You will surrender to me because you will not be able to help yourself. You will never find another man who is willing to give you what you want,” Lucas told her. “When all is said and done, you won’t be able to resist me. Now that I know what you desire, I have you in the palm of my hand.”
“What is it you think I want, my lord?”
“Adventure.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Excitement.” He kissed her eyelids. “And a companion to share it all with you. The fair tonight was a tame event compared to the sights I can show you. I can take you places where no lady would ever dare allow herself to be seen. I can show you the side of life no respectable woman of the ton ever knows.”
“The risks,” she heard herself whisper.
It was as though he read her mind. “You can explore that other world with me and no one will ever be the wiser. You would not want to jeopardize your aunt’s position or your own in Society by getting caught.”
It dawned on her slowly just what he was offering. The bait he dangled was irresistible and he obviously knew it. “But, Lucas, if anyone ever found out, it would be disastrous.”
“What we choose to do in the dark hours between midnight and dawn will be a secret only you and I will share. I’m offering you a bargain, Victoria; one I do not think you can ignore. I mean to satisfy your curiosity concerning the wilder side of life.”
“You must spell out the agreement more clearly than that, my lord. What precisely would you have of me in return?”
Lucas shrugged. “Very little. A lady by day, a companion in adventure by night.”
“I am not so foolish as to believe it will truly be that simple. You say you would court me, woo me, but I will tell you clearly once more that I do not intend to marry.”
“Very well, we will not talk of marriage,” he said soothingly. “I, as do you, seek a companion for my nights. I am at your service. We will spend those nights as you wish. All I ask is that you save your adventures
for our nights together.”
“You are quite certain that is all you will require of me in exchange for your midnight protection and escort?”
“That is all I ask at the moment. The rest is in the hands of fate. We will play games together, Victoria. Dangerous games. Games unlike any you have ever played.”
She looked up at him, fascinated by the hooded assurance of his eyes, mesmerized by the dark promise of his words. Victoria knew then she should flee, but she could no more have run from the lure he was dangling than she could have flown to the moon.
She was still aware of the edge of his hand under her breasts and she suddenly ached to know how it would feel if he moved his long fingers upward and touched her nipples. She shivered.
Again Lucas seemed to read her mind. He moved his hands slowly upward until he was cupping her breasts. She could feel the heat of his palms through her waistcoat and shirt, and, biting back a small cry, she clutched him.
Before she could summon the strength to protest, Lucas’s hands had slipped downward again to clasp her waist. She was left feeling breathless, filled with an urgency, a longing for more of the forbidden touch.
“Well, Victoria? Is it agreed? Will you play the lady by day and my companion in adventure at night? Will there be other evenings such as the one we just spent together?”
“I thought you did not approve of the sort of thing we did tonight.”
“I will admit I was astonished initially at your boldness and daring, but I have since recovered myself and it has occurred to me that nights spent with you will be far more amusing than any I might spend at my clubs or in the company of the boring young ladies on the marriage mart,” Lucas assured her.
She hesitated, but she could feel herself slipping over the edge of a very high cliff. “It must be our secret,” she cautioned. “No one must ever know. If my aunt discovered what I was doing, she would be beside herself with worry. Nor could I allow her to be publicly humiliated by my actions. She has been too good to me and I owe her more than I can ever repay.”
“Your secrets will be safe with me. You have my word,” Lucas agreed.
She believed him then. Victoria knew without any need for proof that this man’s word was his bond. He would not gossip in the clubs or the drawing rooms. He would not treat her with anything more than proper courtesy at the routs and soirées where they would meet socially. “Oh, Lucas, I would so love to explore the night with you.”
He brushed his mouth against hers. “Say yes, Victoria. Say you will take what I am offering.”
“I must think about it. This is such an important decision. I must have time to reflect properly on it.”
“May I call upon you and your aunt tomorrow? You can give me your final decision then.”
She drew a deep breath, knowing this was the start of it. “You do not waste any time, my lord.”
“I have never been the type to waste time.”
“Very well. You may call upon us.” She tightened her arms briefly around his neck, already knowing what her final answer would be. Then she released him, feeling abruptly nervous and even a little shy. She glanced up at the darkened windows of the house. “I must go in. And you must hurry back to the Lyndwoods’ carriage. They will be wondering what has happened to you.”
“I will simply tell them there was some difficulty getting over the garden wall,” he said casually.
He bowed gracefully over her hand. When he raised his head, the moonlight revealed his faint, slashing smile. And then he turned, strode to the wall, and unerringly found the hidden toeholds. In another moment he had vanished into the night. Victoria hesitated a moment longer, wondering just what she had done, and then she let herself into the dark conservatory.
Some time later she lay awake thinking there had been far too much satisfaction and triumph in Stonevale’s parting smile.
I mean to court you, woo you, seduce you.
She would have to tread warily, Victoria told herself, but she could deal with her midnight lord. She would learn to handle him because she had no choice; she could not resist what he was offering. She needed what he was offering.
For the first time in many months, Victoria enjoyed an untroubled sleep.
Ten minutes after making his exit from the garden, Lucas alighted from the Lyndwoods’ carriage, said his good nights, and stalked up the front steps of the town house he had recently inherited. His butler, who, along with the rest of the small staff had been engaged for Lucas by Jessica Atherton, opened the door.
“Send everyone to bed, Griggs. I have some matters to attend to in the library,” Lucas ordered.
“Very good, my lord.”
Lucas walked into the library, which contained the few good pieces of furniture that were left in the house, and poured himself a liberal measure of port. His damned leg was aching again. All that idiotic running about at the fair followed by climbing that damned garden wall had set it off.
He swore silently and took a long swallow of the port, knowing from past experience it would ease the dull throb in his upper thigh.
It was not just his leg that ached. Another part of him was left throbbing as a result of the garden meeting with Victoria. He could still feel the softness of her as he crushed her up against the garden wall. The sweet, spicy scent of her still lingered in his head, mingling with the fragrance of the rich port.
His eyes fell on the portrait that hung over the mantel. Slowly Lucas made his way across the faded carpet to stand in front of the unsmiling face of his uncle.
Maitland Colebrook, the previous Earl of Stonevale, had not had much to smile about in his last years. Plagued by ill health and depressed spirits, he suffered from an abiding resentment against everything and everyone. Maitland’s unpredictable temper had often flared into uncontrolled violence, a violence that was frequently loosed on whoever happened to be in the vicinity, leaving Stonevale always wanting of servants.
In his younger days Maitland Colebrook had been given to debauchery, drink, and gaming on a wild scale. He had disappeared from Society after going through the bulk of his inheritance, an inheritance which had already been thinned out by his father.
He had become an eccentric recluse, cutting off all communication not only with his London acquaintances, but with his relatives. He had retired to the country to drain what little was left from his estates. He had never married, and when the end had come several months ago, he had grudgingly summoned his heir, a nephew he barely knew.
Lucas remembered the interview well. The gloomy master bedroom with its decaying draperies and shabby furnishings looked pleasant compared to Maitland Colebrook, who, withered and pasty-faced, was propped up in the ancient oak bed, a bottle of port and a bottle of laudanum at his side.
“It’s all yours, nephew, every last cursed inch of Stonevale. If you have any sense, you’ll walk away and let it rot into the ground. No good has ever come of these lands,” he wheezed, wrapping his bony fingers around a dingy blanket and glaring coldly at Lucas.
“Probably because no one in recent history has bothered to put any time and money into them,” Lucas had pointed bitterly. Any fool could see that Stonevale had potential. The land was good; it could be made productive again.
Money was the key to reviving Stonevale; money and a lord who cared about his people and estates.
“No point pouring money into Stonevale. Place is cursed, I tell you. Ask anyone around here. Been that way for generations. Bad soil, lazy farmers, undependable water supply. Not a damn thing that’s worth saving. Should have sold the whole bloody place. Don’t know why I didn’t,” the old man continued, his voice dry and raspy.
At that point the dying earl had leaned over to yank open a drawer in the night table. His shaking fingers had fumbled around inside for a moment, then closed over an object he could retrieve by the touch. Then he had hurled the thing at Lucas, who had automatically reached out to catch it.
When he opened his fingers, Lucas found himself staring
down at a circular amber pendant dangling from a thin chain. There were two figures carved on the pendant rendered in such a finely crafted manner that they appeared to be two miniature humans frozen for all time in the translucent yellow-gold stone. The images were clearly of a knight and his lady.
“What is this, sir?” Lucas demanded, his fingers again closing tightly around the pendant.
“Damned if I know. A gift from my father just before he died. Claimed he’d found it in the old maze in the center of the south garden. Local folks think it represents the legend.”
Lucas studied the stone. “What legend?”
Maitland turned purple with sudden fury. “The legend that makes this godforsaken estate so useless, the one responsible for ruining my life, for denying me a son of my own. The legend of the Amber Knight and his lady.”
“What is the truth behind the legend?”
“Go ask one of the old witches in the village if you want to know the tale. I’ve got better things to do than tell you stories.”
And with that, Maitland had lapsed into a fit of coughing. Lucas had quickly poured a glass of port and offered it to the pale, thin lips. His uncle had taken a long swallow and quietened.
“It’s no good, you know,” Maitland Colebrook continued. “None of it. Never was; never will be. Bad luck, the whole wretched place. Take my advice and let it go, boy. Don’t try to save it.”
Lucas looked down at the amber pendant, possessiveness and sudden resolve flaring in him. “Do you know, Uncle, I believe I will ignore your advice. I am going to save Stonevale.”
Maitland Colebrook looked up at him with bloodshot, weary eyes. “And just where do you think you’ll get the blunt? I’ve heard you’ve some skill at the gaming tables, but you cannot win enough to supply yourself with the sort of steady income you would need to save this estate. I know. I tried that in my younger days.”
“Then I’ll have to find another way to get the money, won’t I?”
“Only other way is to snare yourself an heiress, and that’s easier said than done. No decent woman of the ton who has money of her own will look twice at a penniless earl. Her family will be able to do better by her than you.”