Abducted by a Prince (33 page)

And then he would draw her into his arms and do all those wonderful things to her again. He would kiss her and caress her and press himself inside of her. The very thought of it caused a ripple of excitement to flow through her body.

Ellie picked up the candlestick from the bedside table. Cupping her hand around the tiny flame, she started toward her dressing room and the connecting door that led to his bedchamber. She was almost there when she discerned a movement in the black rectangle of the doorway.

Her heart jumped. Her breath caught in a startled gasp. In the next instant, the tall figure of a man stepped into her bedchamber.

Her hand went to her bosom to clutch at the folds of her shawl. “Damien! Why are you here? Why aren’t you still at your club?”

She noticed at once that he had shed his coat and cravat. He wore only a loose white shirt and dark breeches. Like hers, his feet were bare. His proximity made her keenly aware of the intimate, shadowed bedchamber and her own state of undress.

Her pulse beat quickened. Was it possible that … he had come here in the hopes of charming her into bed?

“I returned home early so that we could have a private talk,” he said smoothly. “I trust you won’t mind if we do?”

Taking her by the arm, he led Ellie over to one of the chairs by the hearth and bade her sit. He plucked the candlestick from her nerveless fingers and placed it on the mantel. The fire hissed gently on the grate as he settled himself into the chair opposite hers.

His formal manner was daunting. He wouldn’t have seated them apart if he’d had seduction on his mind. The sight of his austere features in the firelight brought back the memory of her dreadful gaffe. He must mean to rebuke her more thoroughly now that they were alone and he could speak freely.

Gripping the edges of her shawl, she leaned forward to convince him of her sincerity. “Damien, please know that I’m very sorry about what happened this afternoon. You’re right, I should never have allowed Lily to call me mama. I don’t know what came over me—”

“Lily came over you, that’s what. She has a way of winding a person around her little finger.” His mouth curled into a slight smile. “But never mind that. It isn’t why I’m here.”

“No?”

“No, although I will allow that the topic
is
related.” His green-gray eyes took on a narrowed intensity. “When I first spied Lily sitting in that chair with you, I was angry. So angry that I didn’t stop to consider something. You were reading to her from your storybook. Which means that you must have gone to Pennington House today to fetch the manuscript.”

Ellie nodded cautiously. “You’re right, I did. This morning I paid a call on my uncle and grandmother. I thought they should know straightaway that I was safe. And that you and I had been married.”

He raised a stern eyebrow. “And did you never stop to think that
I
should have been with you? That perhaps you ought not to have faced them alone? That you might have asked
me
to accompany you?”

“You weren’t at home,” she countered. “And you’d expressed no desire to meet my family, anyway. Besides, I just wanted to get the interview over with and done.”

She stared defiantly at him, and after a moment, his taut expression relaxed into a wry smile. “All right, I concede your point. I wasn’t here, and there’s nothing to be done about it now, anyway. So tell me about this visit. What did Pennington have to say?” Damien must have seen the hesitation in her face, for he added, “I want to know every last syllable. And that pertains to your grandmother, too. Don’t leave anything out.”

Ellie supposed he had a right to hear it all—or at least most of it—so she related her uncle’s unwelcoming manner, his scorn of her marriage, and his belief that Damien had only wed her to further his ambitions. She said that the earl and her grandmother had both been shocked to learn that Lady Milford had traveled all the way to Scotland on Ellie’s behalf. The only details she left out were the peculiar silent exchanges she’d noticed between her uncle and his mother. She had a suspicion that there had been conversations in private in which harsh, unfair criticisms had been leveled against her. It was dispiriting even to think about their biased opinion of her.

Damien watched her closely, a tight-lipped look on his face. “And Walt? Did you speak to him, too?”

“No, apparently he’s left London. My uncle has banished him to the country for a time. He was furious to find out that Walt had been gambling at your club, that he’d incurred a debt to you.”

“Indeed? One would think he’d be
more
furious that Walt had told lies about your character.”

Warmed by Damien’s heated defense of her, Ellie managed a wan smile. “Speaking of Walt, I asked the earl about the stolen key. But my uncle denies that it even exists. So my cousin must have lied to him about that, as well.”

“Never mind. Walt will return to London eventually—perhaps sometime during the season. I’ll confront him about it then.”

“If I hadn’t been so distressed by the interview, I should have thought to sneak into his bedchamber and search for the key right then and there. Perhaps I can return sometime and—”

“No,” Damien said sharply. “You will do no such thing, Ellie. I forbid you to enter that house ever again without me at your side. You’re my wife now, and I won’t allow you to be subjected to any more of their deplorable insults.”

His dictatorial manner ought to have irked her, but she found herself pleased instead. It felt good to have someone on her side for once. She confessed, “Grandmamma
did
say that it would have been a tragedy if Beatrice had been the one who was abducted and forced into marriage to a scoundrel. But she doesn’t realize how happy I am to be gone from there, or that I’d been planning to leave, anyway.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his fierce gaze focused on her. “My God! I wish I could fathom how that woman can venerate one granddaughter while scorning the other. Especially you, Ellie. What could she not love about you?”

Ellie couldn’t speak for a moment. Her throat felt too tangled with emotions … hope and longing … and apprehension, too. Did Damien really think so highly of her? Could
he
ever love her? Did she even
want
him to love her?

Restless, she jumped up from the chair and began to pace back and forth. “I suppose it all goes back to my father,” she murmured. “As I told you, he was a gambler. My uncle and grandmother have always referred to Papa as the black sheep of the family. He couldn’t keep himself away from the gaming tables. I was only a child at the time, but I remember him being gone for days at a time.”

Damien sat watching her. “Where was your mother?”

“She died when I was six—Lily’s age.” Ellie pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I spent most of my time in the care of servants. I suppose that’s when I developed a love of stories. No matter what happened, I could always escape into my own world of make-believe.”

“Did you and your father ever live at Pennington House?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no, he wasn’t welcome there—neither of us were. We moved from place to place, each one more ramshackle than the last. By then, Papa had turned to drink to drown his sorrows. One night, he stepped into a busy thoroughfare outside a Covent Garden theater and … a carriage ran him down. He died right there on the street.” Shivering, she rubbed her arms and took a deep breath before continuing. “Since I was only fourteen, I was sent to live with my uncle. I was expected to help with my younger cousins in the nursery. I … always felt obliged to the earl for settling Papa’s extensive debts.”

As she walked past his chair, Damien caught hold of her hand to bring her to a halt. “And Pennington never let you hear the end of it. Like father, like daughter. Is that what he led you to believe?”

“Yes. Grandmamma always said I had bad blood.” Her chest tight, Ellie gazed down at their clasped hands. “But Papa wasn’t a wicked man. He was very charming and he
did
love me. He often told me so. Whenever he came home, we would read books together, talk for hours, go out for long walks in the park. It’s just that … he was weak. He could never give me the one thing I needed most. He couldn’t stop destroying himself at the gaming tables.”

Aghast when a tear rolled down her cheek, Ellie tugged at his grip to free herself. She had locked away those painful memories and it hurt to let them out. Now she just wanted to curl up in a ball and make the world go away.

Damien, however, grasped her waist with both of his hands. As he swung her down into his lap, the shawl slipped from her shoulders and fell onto the floor. But she wasn’t cold anymore, not when he placed his arms around her and cradled her close to the heat of his body.

Ellie found herself leaning against him, the way his daughter had been nestled against
her
that afternoon. She rested her head on his shoulder and let herself absorb his warm strength, while she breathed in his clean, spicy scent. Perhaps she
was
like her father in a way; she was very weak-willed when it came to Damien.

He gently thumbed a tear from her cheek. “That’s twice today that I’ve driven you to tears.”

“No, it’s just that … my spirits have been a bit low today after visiting my family. It isn’t
your
fault.”

“No?” He tilted up her chin so that she could see the ruefulness in his expression. “You’re married to the owner of a gaming club. Perhaps you think I take advantage of men like your father. Or worse, that I’ll be caught up in the madness of gambling and destroy myself, and Lily will end up orphaned like you were. You do fear that may happen, don’t you?”

Ellie opened her mouth to deny it. But he was right. The dreadful prospect
had
lurked at the back of her mind. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Then it may help for you to know that I’m very scrupulous about the membership at my club. If a gentleman is unable to pay his debts, he isn’t allowed to play at my tables. That is one of the house rules at Demon’s Den. No man may come to ruin under my roof. As to my own predilections, I no longer gamble as deeply as I once did. Now, I play only as necessary to be sociable with the club members.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Ellie, I want you to heed me well. I could never be tempted into losing my fortune on a roll of the dice or a turn of a card. It won’t happen. That’s a sickness in some men, but not in me.”

He sounded so firm that Ellie was tempted to believe him. Yet her father had always made promises, too. “Well,” she said lightly, “I don’t suppose I can complain too much since I’m to benefit from the fruits of your success.”

He gave her a speculative look. “Ah, yes, the cottage. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that.”

Ellie didn’t want to think about leaving him. Not at present when she felt so deliciously warm and comfortable nestled in his lap. But she was the one who had alluded to the cottage. “Has your land agent begun looking for a place, then?”

“Not yet. First, I need to find out precisely where it is you wish to live. Hampshire? Cornwall? The Lake District? Be forewarned, finding the perfect house for you may take a month or even longer if he has to go far afield.”

Damien had moved his hand to her back, and his fingers idly rubbed up and down over her nightdress, making it difficult for her to concentrate. She tried to fathom why none of those locations appealed to her. Out of the haze of her thoughts, an idea sprang into her mind, a prospect so risky that she feared he would reject it outright.

But she had to voice it. “I would rather stay close to London, I think. So that I might perhaps … come and visit Lily sometimes.” Realizing that her future happiness was dependent upon his answer, she touched his cheek in supplication. “May I, Damien? I know how protective you are of her, but … would you ever allow me to do so?”

He was silent a moment, his expression inscrutable. But his eyes took on a certain gleam in the firelight. “I believe I could permit you under certain circumstances.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would have to visit me, as well.”

Just like that, the air between them became charged with sensuality. His fingers began to play with her unbound breasts through the thin fabric of her nightdress. As he stroked his thumb over her nipple, a rush of heat made her shiver. The pleasure of it was so intense that she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, the better to savor the sensation.

He brought his mouth close to hers. “Have I made myself clear?”

“Very,” she whispered. Her impulse was to accept his condition with alacrity. But was that wise? Did she wish to continue an intimate relationship with him even after she had moved out of his house? It would certainly increase the chances of her conceiving his child.

A baby. A sister or brother for Lily. The prospect filled Ellie with the softness of yearning. But having children would make it more difficult for them to live apart. Already, she could feel the silken bonds that tied them together. And she feared to become inextricably bound to a man who made his income from the pastime that had ruined her father’s life.

“Are you agreeable, then?” Damien continued to lightly run his fingers over her breasts. “Your visits would include being with me, sharing my bed.”

“Oh, Damien, I don’t know if I can make such a promise,” she said in a rush. “I’m sorry. I can only say that I … I
will
consider it.”

His disappointment was revealed by a slight quirk of his lips, a brief lowering of his eyes. He brought his hand up to cup her neck while he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Well. You did make your views on our marriage clear from the start.”

Nonplussed, Ellie gazed at him, wishing that he had not ceased to be seductive. Heaven help her, she hadn’t meant for him to take her words as an utter rejection. He had to understand that it was one thing to contemplate an interlude of a few blissful weeks together, and quite another to agree to continue their intimacy once she had established a new life for herself elsewhere.

“Please, you misunderstand me.” Catching hold of his hand, she brought it back to her bosom, shaped it around her breast, and held it there. “Until I move out of this house, I
do
wish to be with you—as your wife. In fact, I was heading into your bedchamber tonight when you walked into mine. I thought you were gone, and I’d intended to slip into your bed and await your return.”