He angled his head and kissed her ear. Then his finger toyed at the ear bob as he watched it move. The sensation of that little weight against her jaw made the daze lift a little. Enough for her to consider the truth that she was naked with this man on top of her, after she had come here determined that nothing like this would happen.
She claimed most of herself, but she could not shake off the intimacy. It altered her senses and her mind and even what she saw as she looked up at him.
Still Castleford. Still dangerous. But less of a devil right now, it seemed, and more of a man. Not so cool and indifferent or viewing all of life as a good joke.
That was the pleasure affecting her, no doubt. It softened her perceptions and tempted her to think better of this than it had really been.
She closed her eyes because it affected her too much, looking at him. It was as if she lost another little piece of her soul and will with each passing moment.
“Thank you. For being good to your word,” she said.
“You must now give
your
word that you will never tell anyone that I had you here in bed, naked, and was so stupidly decent. Such gossip would ruin me, utterly.”
She laughed, grateful that he sounded once again like the Castleford she knew. “I promise to keep your secret that you can be honorable, even when inclined not to be.”
He eased off her and lay beside her. His fingertips absently traced her body, its curves and swells, like a brush outlining her in paint.
“You do not really fear I am diseased, I think.”
“Are you convincing yourself that I am taking joy in frustrating you?”
“I believe your hesitation is real, but this new reason is an excuse conjured up to explain it. You are afraid of something. I sense it, when you are at your most vulnerable. Not disease, I think. Not even me.”
An urge to confide swelled inside her. It came on quickly, unexpectedly, provoked by the intimacy, she was sure, and not by any rational considerations. The words were nearly on her lips before she checked herself. She forced the impulse down.
“You misunderstand what is only a woman’s natural caution, and my worry about putting faith in the word of a man who is not known for denying himself.”
“I see.”
That was hardly agreement, but she was glad to let the query die with that.
“I heard that Latham visited you,” he said.
“Who told you that?”
“He did. He said that you received him. You add insult to insult in doing so, since you do not receive
me
.”
“I agreed to receive him in order to see what he wanted. And to see if I might learn something that would enable me to bring him down.”
“You are not to attempt that. I forbid it.”
“Where did you get the notion it was your place to forbid anything?”
He rose up and looked at her. His expression said it all. That in giving her favors, incompletely though it had been, he would assume it was his place as long as he wished.
“You are not a person equipped to battle such as he.”
“Well,
someone
has to do it.”
“Why? He is not the first peer to be of poor character. Hell, look at me.”
“It is not the same.”
“Close enough. Do not entertain this foolhardy notion, Daphne. Do not entertain
him
either, damn it.”
The little argument provoked her. He played with the ear bobs again, causing them to tap against her skin.
“I know that you have been living a fraudulent history, Daphne.”
Her breath caught. The world seemed to freeze, and a chill slid down her back.
She looked at him, searching to see what he knew and what he might not.
“The records show no Captain Joyes dying in the war,” he said almost gently. “Did he even exist? Were you even married?”
She silently cursed his curiosity and her naïveté in thinking that dodging him would discourage him.
Now what? Would today only make that worse or dull his fascination?
“You do not speak,” he said. “I think I will choose to be flattered that you do not want to lie to me more.”
“You should not have pried.” Fury burned in her, and she wanted to hit him. “It was nothing more than a way to pass the time for you.”
“I always pry if I am inclined to. I think I know what happened. I only do not know if there ever was a Captain Joyes and if you were ever married or are married still.”
He thought he knew it all, but he would be saying more now if he did. That relieved her trepidation, and she forced her anger into control.
“Never,” she said. “I was never married.”
It was what he expected, she could tell.
“Latham knew, didn’t he?” he said. “He knew about you and his father. He thinks to take his father’s place in more than the House of Lords. Do not demur. I know of what I speak. This is why you are not to receive him again. Doing so will tempt me to call him out, and it would be best if I don’t kill him over you.”
“I doubt either of you would be moved to such drama over me, let alone to contest who receives my favors.”
“I would not know yet, since I have not had all your favors. In a few days’ time, however, I may take it very badly if another man, let alone Latham, tried to displace me.”
A few days’ time. He did not sound like he expected those physician’s letters to take even a week to procure.
Worse, he spoke of a fascination that did not die with victory, but increased.
She had lived almost invisibly for years, and now this man’s interest threatened to rend her privacy to pieces.
She closed her eyes when he began touching her again. She wallowed in the intimacy and warmth of this sultan’s bed. She made herself feel each pleasure as much as possible while he caressed and kissed her, and as abandon made her free.
Sadness gathered around the edges of her emotions, however, even when she cried from the intense release that shattered her need. She succumbed more than she ever had, because she dared never do so again.
She left as dusk fell. She rode back to Park Lane in Summerhays’s carriage, not yet ready to consider how big a mistake the evening had been. Castleford’s commands about Latham played in her mind instead.
For all of his statements of concern for her, he was protecting Latham as well. They may not be friends now, but the past—those boyhood games and the sins they shared as young men—stood for something. And dukes probably all hung together in any case. An assault on one diminished all of their power.
The peerage had a vested interest in taking care of each other. Latham being a relative would only reinforce that inclination with Castleford.
As badly as he thought of Latham, he would never side against him. No matter what the insult, there would never be a challenge either, least of all over her.
Which meant that if she ever found the courage to make Latham pay for the past, it would be best not to inform Castleford about her plans.
Back in her chamber, she undressed on her own, not calling for the maid. She wanted no company. She sat at her dressing table to unpin her hair.
Two stars glittered in the looking glass, one on each side of her face, reflecting the light from the candles. She still wore the diamonds. She had forgotten to remove them and leave them in their box in the tent.
Chapter Fourteen
“N
ow,” Castleford said.
“I should return to my chambers and compose this letter, Your Grace. It requires some thought, due to the delicacy of the subject.”
“
Now
.” Castleford pointed to the writing table in his bedchamber.
Dr. Neverton flushed and appeared distraught and annoyed.
Their meeting had not gone well. Upon receiving the message to come with all haste, Dr. Neverton had hurried over, a valise full of tonics and metal implements in hand. He had run up the stairs and burst into the apartment, issuing a rush of questions to the valets in the dressing room.
“What is it? A bullet wound from a duel? A fever brought on by his profligate living? Has the drinking finally done in one of his major organs?”
Castleford had heard it all from his bedchamber, where he had been thinking dark thoughts. He was in no mood for what was coming with Dr. Neverton. The woman had really gone too far in making such a thing a condition of receiving her favors. Daughters and wives of peers had not been this bold.
Dr. Neverton had entered the bedchamber resentfully, having learned that no bullet wound or illness had summoned him on this dire emergency. He had been stunned to learn of the examination required instead.
Now, the annoying business finished, Castleford was not going to let the man go free until he had that damned letter in hand.
“Sit. If words fail you, I will help,” he ordered.
Dr. Neverton sat. He glanced at the papers spread on the surface in front of him, then peered more closely. “Are you writing your memoirs, Your Grace?”
Castleford cleared the table of the papers and stacked them roughly on one side. “Not at all. Why do you ask?”
“Forgive me, but I could not help but notice that the top page extolled the charms of a certain damsel of the night named Katy. A little blonde, it said.” He glanced up roguishly. “I think I know her.”
“Do you now?”
“Oh, yes, if it is the same Katy. The one I know has a mole, right—here.” Neverton pointed to the side of his chest.
They exchanged details, far more than necessary, to ensure it was the same woman.
“Your experience with Katy and others may prove useful,” Castleford said. “Now, I want you to write the letter, no salutation, regarding my health. Especially the health that you examined today, if you understand what I mean.”
“You want me to explain that you are in fine health, I assume. May I ask, sir, are you planning to marry? I have only been asked to write such a document once before, when another gentleman with extensive, um, experiences planned to wed. It was required by the intended’s father.”
“No, you may not ask such an impertinent question. Here is how I think you should start the letter. I will dictate. Are you ready?”
Dr. Neverton sighed and dipped the pen.
“ ‘ The patient who bears my letter of testimony to you’—do not use my name, Neverton. I do not want anyone to know I did this should the letter fall into the wrong hands—‘is in remarkably good health. Indeed, it is unusual to find a man of his age so youthfully strong and vigorous. One might think time stopped when he left university. It is my professional opinion that the rumors regarding his habits must be in error’—don’t give me that look, Neverton. Just write, damn it—‘for if even half of those stories were true, a physician would expect to see some effects on his person or mind, when in fact none exist.’ ”
“Your Grace, really, I do not think I should allow you to dictate this—”
“ ‘ Regarding any passing experiences this patient may have had of a carnal nature—’ ”
“That sounds as if they have been few and far between, when you admitted just a quarter hour ago that—”
“ ‘—it is my medical opinion, which is sought even by members of the royal family, that he is totally free of any of the diseases that are associated with such activities.’ ”
Neverton put down his foot. Or rather, his pen. “I cannot say you are totally free. I cannot. You appear to be, yes. I believe you to be, yes. Your precautions, if you did use condoms as you say, support that you are. But I cannot be certain, one hundred percent. I am unable to vouch in that manner about any person who has had sexual congress with another human being.”
“Then say all that, much as you said it to me. Only leave out the part where you impugned my honor with the ‘as you say,’ which I will generously overlook if you write this letter very, very well. I have dueled over lesser insults, as you know, since you have attended on the field along with the surgeon.”
Dr. Neverton blanched and looked up with caution in his eyes.
“And, Neverton, I have decided it would indeed add a nice touch if you wrote that you yourself have indulged at the establishment that I favored when I had such passing activities, and that if you did not know that the house was clean, you would not use it yourself.”
“Your Grace! You cannot expect me to incriminate myself for your benefit, and in writing no less!”
“Then be available to say it in person, should I need your testimony. The choice is yours.”
Mouth folded tightly, Dr. Neverton penned the letter, signed and dated it, and handed it over. Castleford made sure it covered all the points expected, as emphatically as required.
He then released the physician. Not happy at all, but very well compensated, Dr. Neverton took his leave.