To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) (20 page)

“Here, let me.” He turned her so her back was
presented to him and finished what she could not reach.

“You’ve never allowed a kiss?”
Please,
don’t lie to me. Not after this?

Her face burned bright and she smoothed her
skirts. “I’ve allowed kisses in the past. But they were never like
that.”

If possible, her face turned even redder. So,
he kissed the best. Better than Percer. A grin pulled at his
lips.

He stood to retrieve the bottle of brandy.
They both needed a drink right now. He returned and stopped before
her. Miss Crawford’s eyes were focused on him, or at least his
physical reaction to her.

She looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

At least she wasn’t so innocent she didn’t
understand the bulge in his pants. He chuckled. “I will survive.”
Though he wasn’t so sure if he was the one telling the truth
now.

Miss Crawford accepted the glass. “Lord
Atwood, I want to assure you, I have never behaved in this manner
before.”

“Vincent.”

She turned to look at him. “Pardon?”

He grinned. “Vincent. It is my name and I
wish you would call me by that instead of my title.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Well, perhaps not in front of the students
or other teachers, but when we are alone, working. Do you think
that is possible, Tess?”

Tess swallowed. “I suppose.”

She took a hasty drink, then a second, and
then a third. Vincent lifted the glass from her hand. “I am afraid
if you keep drinking so quickly you will regret it in the
morning.”

“I am sure that isn’t the only thing I shall
regret,” she mumbled.

He placed his hands on her face and turned
her toward him. “Tess, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your
innocence is still intact and what occurred between us is quite
natural.”

“Not for me. I am a teacher and held to high
standards.”

“I promise not to tell.” He bent forward and
placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Now, you should return to your
room. If you sit here much longer, looking as desirable as you do
now, I may not be responsible for my actions.”

Her eyes widened, but she stood and made her
way to the door. “Good night,

Lord - I mean, Vincent.”

He could hear her slippered feet run up the
stairs. Oh, it was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Tess closed the door and leaned back against
it. What had come over her? She should have stopped him long before
his hand was on her leg, but the will to do so was not there. She
always wondered what it would be like to have a man kiss her, in a
way that made your toes curl. She had heard it was possible, but
never truly believed it until tonight. Then he did those other
things to her body. My goodness, one must not behave in such way so
close to the fireplace because she was positive she would burst
into flames if she got any warmer. So warm she wanted him to strip
the dress from her. To be free. To finally know what happened
between a man and a woman, but stopped herself. If she hadn’t ended
it when she did, she knew it would have been all over and her
innocence but a memory.

She slowly walked into her room and sat on
the bed. Perhaps she should have allowed him to make love to her,
completely. She may never again have the chance. And, who better to
make love to you than Lord Atwood? The experience alone would warm
her for many a night on her voyage to America.

No, she was right in stopping him when she
did. She had enough to worry about with a pregnancy on top of
everything else. Her virginity was not a concern because she
doubted it would ever be an issue. As long as she had to run and
hide, she could never love and marry. Perhaps she should return to
him. Would it be so bad to have that one experience to remember
forever?

She shook her head.
Stupid girl. You need
to leave tonight to save yourself. You lost your head once over a
gentleman and look what it got you. You are wanted for murder.
Eventually Atwood will find out too and turn you in.
Even the
memories of tonight would not keep her warm in Newgate.

With determination, she placed the bag from
Claudia on the bed and walked to the armoire. She would pack and
go. Time was of the essence.

* * *

What possessed him to kiss her? His intention
had been to gain her trust but she had looked so alone, afraid and
the will to protect rose within him. The more they spoke the more
he could not resist until the only thing he could think of was
kissing her. Now what was he to do? He still did not know the truth
of her relationship with Percer or if she did, in fact, murder her
uncle. How could he be drawn to her knowing what little he did? But
drawn to her he was. He could not recall the last time he desired a
woman so much. Something had to be done to rectify the
situation.

He looked around the library. It would be
impossible to work tonight. He might as well turn in. Vincent blew
out the candles in the library and made his way to his room. There
he lit the lamp beside his bed. He was exhausted.

With brandy in hand he wandered to the window
and looked toward the path into the woods. He dearly hoped he did
not see Tess run in that direction. Not after what they had just
shared. He placed his glass on the table then drew his shirt off.
When he reached down for his brandy again he noticed the parchment
turned over. He picked it up. It was the list of names. Where was
the map? He searched the table, the floor and under the bed. It was
gone.

* * *

The door crashed against the wall and Tess
jumped. She was just about to leave her room and sneak out of the
house.

“Where is it?” Vincent demanded.

The blood must have raced from her for
suddenly she was chilled, even in her cloak. “Where is what?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

She took a step back as he advanced on her.
“No, I don’t.”

He stopped and his eyes raked her from top to
bottom. “Are you going somewhere?”

She swallowed. She was in her cloak and
carrying a bag full of her clothing. A lie would not suffice right
now. It was better not to answer.

“I should have known better than to trust
you.” He stalked toward her.

Tess continued to back up, suddenly afraid.
Where was the lover she had been with a short time ago?

“Did you think to seduce me into giving it to
you, but changed your mind? That is the tactic your fiancé
used.”

“Fiancé?”

“I know all about Percer and your
betrothal.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She dropped the
bag.

“Then explain it to me. Or is there another
reason you met him in the woods last night.”

Oh dear, how did he know? “I can
explain.”

“I already know. You were sent here to
retrieve a piece of the map and return it to him.”

“No, I mean, yes. Wait. Let me explain,” she
begged.

He stood, feet braced apart, arms crossed
over his chest. “Explain!”

“I was engaged to Percer, a very long time
ago, before I knew what he was like.”

“Go on.”

“He found me here and threatened me.”

“With what? What did he want?”

“He wanted the piece of a map. He already
took mine. I thought he would go away after that, I prayed he would
go away, but he demanded I find yours.”

“And now that you have it, you are on your
way to meet him.”

“No,” Tess cried. “I don’t have it. I am
running from him. Don’t you understand how dangerous he is?” She
knew she was screaming but he had to be made to understand. She
could still get past him and to the door and would if necessary,
though she doubted she could out run Vincent.

“It is no longer where I left it. So who do
you suppose took my piece of the map?”

The statement shocked her. No, it couldn’t
have disappeared. Unless Percer somehow got into the house. The
thought scared her beyond anything else. While she was lying on the
couch with Vincent, Percer could have been up here wandering
around, doing anything he wished. “Oh, no.” She rushed for the
door.

Vincent was there in a heartbeat and grabbed
her arm. “Where do you think you are going?”

“I have to check on the others. If he got in
here, he could have hurt any of them. Don’t you understand how
dangerous he is? How evil?”

Vincent stepped back. “He could not get in
the house.”

“Then where did your piece of the map go? I
don’t have it and that man is obsessed with getting all of
them.”

Vincent gently held onto her arm and pulled
her into his room. He tugged on the bell pull and turned back to
her. “Why run now? All you had to do was give him the paper, once
you located it, and he would leave you alone.”

A knock sounded at his door and Wesley
appeared.

“I want you to awaken the servants and search
the house.”

“Has someone broken in?” Wesley straightened
his jacket as if not disturbed by the possibility.

“My
document
is missing. Miss Crawford
fears Percer may have come into the house to get it.”

“That would be most unpleasant. I will notify
you with what we learn.” Wesley closed the door behind him.

Vincent turned back to her. “You did not
answer my question.”

Tess pulled her arm away. It would do no good
to try and run now. It was over and she would have to face her
punishment.

“If I remain, he will see me arrested.” She
was surprised by how calm her voice sounded now.

“Because he claims you murdered your
uncle?”

How did he know? Tess swallowed and blinked
back tears.

“Well, did you?”

She looked him directly in the eye and
answered. “Yes.”

Say is thy spirit so heavy, or thy love so
weak, or thy faith

so hollow, that the hope of being mine for
ever is unable

to touch thee?

Wake Not the Dead

Johann Ludwig Tieck

Chapter 17

Her answer was a punch to his stomach. He had
hoped there was a mistake, but she just admitted to murder. That
sweet, beautiful woman looked at him with those grey eyes and told
him she murdered her uncle. It was incomprehensible.

“Tess, are you all right, dear,” Mrs.
Wiggon’s voice called from inside Miss Crawford’s room. “I heard
you scream.” She eventually found her way into Vincent’s room.

“Do you normally employ murderers to teach
your students?” he asked her in a cold tone.

“Oh, dear,” she muttered and turned to
Tess.

“Oh, goodness.” Miss Morris stopped abruptly
behind Mrs. Wiggons.

“Oh, my,” added Miss Pritchard. A slow,
appreciative smile graced her face.

Both of the younger ladies had their eyes
focused on his chest.

Their appraisal of his body, or at least his
chest, brought heat to his face. Good Lord, he was blushing like a
school girl.

“We shouldn’t be in here,” Mrs. Wiggons
pulled Tess back into her own room. The other teachers followed,
though Miss Pritchard moved a bit slower.

Vincent stalked after them. He focused on
Miss Crawford and pointed to her. “You. Don’t go anywhere.” He
marched back through his room and found his previously discarded
shirt on the floor and put it back on, then stalked back into Miss
Crawford’s. He stopped and anchored both hands on his hips. He had
no idea what they had been discussing, but their urgent whispers
stopped the moment he entered the room.

“Now, would you mind answering my question,
Mrs. Wiggons?” He turned his focus next on Miss Crawford, or
whoever the hell she was. “Or, would you like to explain why you
murdered your uncle?”

All three women spoke at once and he didn’t
know who said what.

“Oh, it is nothing like that.”

“You misunderstand.”

“Tess, explain that you are not a
murderess.”

However, Miss Crawford remained silent and
stared at him. Her face deathly pale. He hoped she didn’t faint
before he got his answers.

“Let Miss Crawford explain,” he suggested in
what he hoped was a calm tone, but these women were giving him a
headache. Something he had not had to deal with in two days and did
not relish experiencing anytime soon.

“It is as I said,” Miss Crawford began in a
quiet tone. “I shot my uncle.” She sank into a chair in the far
corner of the room.

“It is not that simple,” Miss Pritchard
insisted.

“What isn’t simple about pointing a pistol at
someone and pulling the trigger?” he asked Miss Pritchard, but his
focus remained on Miss Crawford.

“For one, she was aiming at Percer.” The
answer came from Miss Morris and his focus immediately shifted to
her, then back to Miss Crawford. He should have known there was
more to the story. “Explain,” he demanded of Miss Crawford.

She turned pleading eyes on Mrs. Wiggons, her
face flushed red. Well, at least she didn’t look like she was about
to faint.

“You need to tell him, dear. This has to come
from you.”

She turned to look at him and lowered her
eyes: A pained expression crossed her face. She took a deep breath
and stood. “I was foolish enough to believe Percer was interested
in me, well…for me.”

“There is nothing foolish in thinking that,”
Miss Morris admonished.

Vincent had to agree. A man would have to be
dead not to be interested in Miss Crawford. Or perhaps not. Didn’t
half the town believe he was actually dead? So, anyone dead or
alive would be interested in her.

She offered a grateful, yet small smile to
Mrs. Wiggons and continued. “I learned that he was only after my
piece of the map. Or my uncle’s actually.”

“Go on,” Vincent prompted when she
paused.

“I heard them arguing one night. I had come
down the stairs and stood outside of my uncle’s study. I feared he
was turning Percer out. But what I did hear chilled me to the
bone.” She stopped and walked to the window, her back rigid.
Vincent did not urge her to continue but waited for what came
next.