Authors: Candace Camp
“Definitely odd.” Cleybourne’s brows were drawn together in a dark scowl. He looked at Vesey, then glanced down the table at Jessica.
Jessica lifted her brows a little, conveying her own puzzlement. She would have named Vesey as the most likely candidate for both the incidents here at the castle. But it seemed bizarre that he would then call attention to the connection between the two—and to another at the General’s house.
What could be the meaning of it? What could he hope to achieve?
On the other hand, she reasoned, given Vesey’s apparent mental powers, perhaps he had no purpose at all but was merely blathering. Still, she could not deny the possibility that he brought them up because he had not had anything to do with them and that what he said was simply what had gone through his mind—the oddity of someone breaking into this house twice and the General’s, as well, all in a fairly short span of time.
If that were the case, then there was something else entirely going on, and Jessica had no idea what it was. Disturbed by the idea, she continued to mull it over during the rest of dinner, not paying much attention to what else was said. Afterward, as she left the dining room, she was surprised when someone grabbed her arm and whisked her into the music room, quickly closing the pocket door after them. She looked up into the face of her companion, startled.
“Darius! Whatever are you doing? Why did you pull me in here?”
“How else was I to get to talk to you? You have been avoiding me all day,” he said almost petulantly. “Whenever I enter a room, you leave. You scarcely speak to me. You will not look at me.”
“I thought we agreed to stay out of each other’s way,” Jessica said, irritation lacing her voice. “That will be the easiest for both of us.”
“Not for me. I don’t want to avoid you,” Darius protested. “Jessica, when I saw you again…I knew what a fool I had been to let you go.”
“Let me go?” Jessica asked, astonished. “As I remember, you tossed me away.”
“I know I hurt you,” Darius said. “And you have every right to be angry at me. But I am asking you to give me a chance to redeem myself.”
“Redeem yourself? Darius, it is a little late for that. It is in the past; there is nothing that can be done about it. You cannot change what happened.”
“No, but I can try to make up for it. If you will but give me another chance, Jessica…”
He took a step toward her, and Jessica backed up. “Another chance! Have you gone mad?”
“No! No, I think rather that I have come to my senses. I have missed you all this time, thought about you, wanted you.”
Jessica gaped at him. “For ten years?”
“Yes.”
“This is nonsensical. I don’t know what maggot you’ve gotten into your head, but the whole thing is absurd. We don’t even know each other anymore. I don’t want you to ‘make up’ to me for anything. Yes, I was angry once, but that was long ago. I am not angry still. I—I don’t feel anything for you now.”
“No! That cannot be true!” Darius exclaimed, surprising her by moving forward swiftly and grabbing her arms. “You can’t have forgotten how it feels. Deny it all you want, but you must remember the sweetness of our kisses.”
All that sprang to Jessica’s mind at his words was how Richard had kissed her last night, and she would hardly term his kisses sweet—searing, perhaps, or stunning, fiery and fierce and hard, branding her very soul, it seemed, but nothing so insipid as “sweet.” She blushed a little at her thoughts.
“There!” Darius said triumphantly. “I knew you remembered them.”
“No!” Jessica protested, realizing too late what he intended.
He pulled her to him and kissed her. His lips pressed hard into hers, pushing them back against her teeth. Jessica put her hands between them, shoving at him, trying to pull away, but his fingers dug into her arms, holding her still. Finally, in exasperation, she kicked him sharply in the shins.
“Ow!” Darius raised his head in surprise.
“Damn you!” a masculine voice roared behind them, and the next thing Jessica knew, Cleybourne was beside them. He grabbed Darius by the arm and flung him away from Jessica. Darius stumbled, his arms flailing wildly, and fell backward over a sofa, rolling onto the seat and then to the floor in front of it.
“Richard!” Jessica exclaimed in astonishment.
Cleybourne was not listening to her. His eyes fiery, he ran around the side of the couch to reach down and haul Darius to his feet, then swung his right fist flush into Darius’s jaw, knocking him down again.
“Richard!” Jessica cried, hurrying around the couch and grabbing his arm before he could punch the man again. “Stop it. Please. You are creating a scene!”
“You think I care?” he asked. “I’ll kill this bastard.”
“Well, I care,” Jessica pointed out, exasperated. “It will hardly do my reputation any good to have the whole household come in here and find you two brawling. Everyone will know what happened.”
Richard hesitated, then let his arm fall to his side. “All right.” He looked sharply at Darius. “You can thank her for saving your worthless skin. Get up and get out, and if I see you around Miss Maitland again, I won’t stop next time. Understood?”
“Yes, yes…” Darius was scrambling away from him as he got to his feet. “Sorry. My mistake. I didn’t realize she was your—that you were—”
As Richard’s eyes flashed red and he started after the man again, Darius broke off and ran from the room. Richard stood for a moment, still facing the door pugnaciously. Then he made an obvious effort to relax, shaking out his arms, and turned back to Jessica.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I am fine. I had no idea he would—I—how did you know?”
“I saw him pull you into the music room. Didn’t take much intelligence to know that he was up to no good. I would have been here sooner, but that bloody Pargety female trapped me, whining about the intruder, and I couldn’t let her follow me in here.”
He strode quickly over to the door and closed it, in case anyone had seen Darius’s hasty exit and came to investigate. When he turned around, Jessica had difficulty meeting his eyes, embarrassed by what he had witnessed.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“You are welcome. Frankly, it was rather nice to hit something. I have been wanting to for the past three hours.”
Jessica could not suppress a smile. “I see. I am sorry.”
He shrugged. “You needn’t be. I—I should not have yelled at you this afternoon. I am—having these people around tries my temper sorely.”
“And here I thought I was the one who tried your temper.”
A smile flickered briefly across his mouth. “So you do.”
“I am sorry that you had to witness this scene.”
“You needn’t be. I should have thrown the scoundrel out into the snow as soon as you told me who he was. Do you suppose he might have been the intruder last night?” Richard’s expression was suddenly hopeful.
Jessica chuckled. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I cannot imagine Darius having the nerve to do it. Besides, why would he have been snooping around your study? To steal something? He was not an enormously wealthy man, but he was well enough off.”
“Yes,” Richard agreed regretfully, “he is too big a fool to have any sort of scheme, to plan a robbery.”
“A fool?” Jessica’s lips curved up in amusement.
“You are, perhaps, a trifle harsh. You scarcely know the man, after all.”
The duke grunted. “Don’t need to. It’s obvious. He broke off his engagement with you because he was frightened by the scandal. Only a fool would do that.”
Jessica’s eyes flew up to his, startled. “I would have imagined you would not find him foolish to disconnect himself from me. I am, as you may recall, the ‘most annoying female’ you have ever met.”
“Don’t turn my own words against me,” he said in a mock-stern voice. “You are immensely aggravating. You are also beautiful and passionate.” He stopped, his mind going, unbidden, to the night before and the unchecked passion that had flowed through her at his touch, and suddenly he was hot and hard. His eyes darkened involuntarily, and he turned his gaze away from hers.
Jessica saw the look in his eyes before he turned away, and it sent a sizzle through her even as she reminded herself that he had rejected her for that very passion. “He had his career in the army,” she said colorlessly. “He could not very well permit himself to be tied by blood to a disgraced officer.”
“Any man who chooses a career over a woman’s love is a fool,” Cleybourne replied shortly. “One has nothing without that.” He shifted a little, still not looking at her. “Obviously he has regretted doing it.”
“I don’t know.” Jessica shook her head. “I—it baffles me a little. I have not seen him in ten years. I cannot believe that he has been regretting his action all this time. Why would he never have gotten in touch with me before?” She shrugged. “I think he is probably just bored, stuck in a house with strangers and nothing to do.”
Cleybourne’s eyes flashed. “So he tries to compromise a lady? To reengage her affections? Out of boredom? You should not have stopped me.”
“I don’t know,” Jessica replied honestly. “But I find it hard to believe that he loves me still.” She looked at Cleybourne, adding, “He is not the sort of man you are.”
“Thank you. I would hate to think I resembled Talbot. The man is a worm.”
Jessica smiled faintly. “Yes. But what I meant, specifically, is that he is not a man of depth. Of loyalty.”
Her words warmed Richard. He had not felt today much like a man of deep feelings and loyalty. He had felt like a man of pure need, hanging on to his control by a thread, guilty and mentally unfaithful. To hear the respect in Jessica’s voice was soothing and—as everything about her seemed to be to him right now—also arousing. His hands curled into fists as he said stiffly, “Thank you.”
He could not understand why every time he was around this woman he dissolved into a mass of confused and scattered emotions, why all his nerves seemed to have risen to the surface, raw and exposed, vulnerable to sensations. For years he had felt cut off from the world, deadened by sorrow, and now suddenly he was all too alive, aware of every passing pain or pleasure.
He spoke, more to remove himself from his thoughts than anything else. “I do not remember the scandal concerning your father, at least not clearly.”
Jessica shrugged. She had talked to almost no one about the scandal that had ripped her life apart. Everyone had shied away from the subject, whether from fear of hurting her, as Viola and the General had been, or from sheer distaste. The ones who had wanted to talk about it with her had been gossipmongers, their eyes bright with curiosity, wanting to dabble in her pain in order to have more grist for their rumor mill. It had remained a hard knot of pain inside her, buried beneath years of living.
She looked at Cleybourne uncertainly, but there was in his face no eagerness, only the understanding of life’s pain. For a moment she could not speak, emotion welling up in her throat and closing it. She took a breath, then said, “It was not a very clear thing. He—” She looked away, a little surprised at the pain that pierced her after so many years. “He was cashiered out of the army after years of service. No one said why. Rumors abounded, of course, the favorite being that he had been engaged in treasonous activities.”
Her eyes flashed fiercely as she went on. “But he would not! I know he would never have done anything to betray England. He was a man of surpassing loyalty. A soldier through and through. He would never have done anything to hurt his country.” She blinked back tears. “He would not tell me why. I asked him. I was hurt and furious about what people were saying. I wanted him to reveal the reason, to prove to everyone that he was not a traitor, that he had done nothing wrong. He swore to me that he had not betrayed the army or the country. He—he told me he was sorry, that he would not have hurt me for the world. And he looked so sad, so stricken, that I could not pressure him more. I told him I believed him, that I trusted him. I did, you see. I still do. I know that, whatever happened, he did not do anything wrong. They were mistaken. They had to be.”
Jessica stopped, her voice choked by emotion. She struggled for control, and as she did, Cleybourne reached out, laying his hand gently on her shoulder. The gesture of comfort was too much for her, and suddenly the tears overwhelmed her. She began to cry, and it seemed as though the more she tried to stop, the more she could not. She sobbed, her shoulders shaking, long-buried emotions pouring out.
“Jessica…” Instinctively Richard wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against him. She laid her head against his chest and wept, her hands curling into his jacket.
His arms were loose around her, warm and comforting, and he bent his head to hers. She thought she felt the brush of his lips against her hair, but the touch was too brief and soft to be sure. Finally, exhausted by her tears, she stood for a moment longer, leaning into him, supported by his strength, surrounded by his warmth.
Then she pulled back, wiping her tears away with her hands, embarrassed at her own weakness. “I am sorry. That was silly of me.”
“No. It wasn’t silly at all. There is no reason to apologize.”
Jessica shook her head, unable to bring herself to meet his gaze. He had been kind to her, and it had felt so good, so safe and easy, to lean on him. It was, she knew, much too easy, and it was a mistake to indulge herself this way. It would be sheer folly to come to rely on Cleybourne, just as it had been folly last night to give in to the pleasure of his kisses.