Arcana (30 page)

He strokes a finger down my cheek. “Is something wrong?”

“You said you’d escort me to my room,” I say quietly. “Devi has drawn me a bath.” I take a deep breath. I can do this. We’re practically betrothed, but once I reveal the truth of who I am, I cannot be sure I will ever have a wedding night. The only certainty is that we have this night, and I must take full advantage of it. “Will you join me?”

The fiery desire in his eyes flares, and he lets out his breath in a rush. “Good God, Katherine. How could I say no?”

I stand staring at the tub. Gentle steam rises from it invitingly, but my legs shake beneath my skirt.

Lord Thornewood moves closer to me from behind and wraps his arms around me. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for,” he whispers in my ear. “I cannot deny my desire for more time spent pleasuring you, but only say the word, and I will leave you with a chaste kiss on the cheek.”

I close my eyes and shake my head. That’s the last thing I want. And yet . . . giving myself totally to him without vows being exchanged is a social and moral law I cannot overcome. “I . . . I would rather keep my virginity.”

He kisses the side of my neck. “I find I much prefer it if we saved something for the wedding night.”

I turn in his arms, and he takes possession of my mouth once again. His tongue is gentle, stroking, awakening a fire within me. I sigh into him.

He moves his hand down to the ribbons on the front of my nightgown and looks at me, a question in his eyes.

“Yes,” I say, the blood pounding in my ears.

His fingers deftly undo the ties and skim the thin fabric off my shoulders. The nightgown becomes a puddle of cotton and lace on the floor, and I stand before him, completely naked. Though most ladies would be blushing with embarrassment, I watch the mounting desire in his eyes with a sort of feminine pride. My mother never adhered to society’s bashfulness over the body. She reveled in the beauty of the human form, and indeed, was never shy about bathing or even swimming in the pond at Bransfield.
We should never be ashamed of our bodies
, she would tell me,
each one is a work of art.

“Exquisite,” he murmurs, reaching out to cup my breasts in his hands. They fill his wide hands, and I arch back as he returns his attention to my neck and throat.

He pulls away for a moment and hurriedly removes his shirt. I stare at the rippling muscles of his chest and abdomen. His skin is smooth, like satin over granite. A work of art, indeed. I believe I have found what my mother was referring to.

I cannot resist reaching out and running my hands over his broad chest. He smiles and cradles my cheek with his hand. “Why do you look so perplexed?” he asks. “Is my form so foreign to you?”

I smile. “I am not so naïve that I have never seen a man’s chest before. No, I am only surprised it is so well-formed. Most aristocrats are rather soft.”

He laughs quietly. “Perhaps I do not spend time reclining as so many other gentleman do.” He holds his hand out toward the tub. “Now come, I’ll help you in while the water is still hot.”

The water envelopes me in warmth, the exotic scent of some unidentifiable oil wafting up amidst the steam. Watching me, he removes both his trousers until he stands completely exposed to my virgin eyes.

Warmth rushes up my neck to my cheeks as my heart beats furiously in my chest. He enters the tub behind me, his legs stretched out on either side of mine. “My body must be very frightening to put such a look in your eyes.”

Though there were parts which were certainly . . . intimidating, to say the least, I could never say I was afraid of him. “I find you beautiful,” I say with another blush.

He reaches out and pulls me forward, until I am nestled against him, reclining against his broad chest. “Your skin is lovely when you blush,” he says. He bends his head down and presses a kiss to my neck. “And dear God, why do you always smell of roses?” His fingers gently run up and down my arm. When I turn to look up at him, he lowers his mouth to mine.

His tongue is gentle at first, then more demanding, urging the desire inside me to take over. His hand moves from my arm down the side of my breasts, and still lower, until he is stroking my bare thigh. He returns his attention to my breasts, cupping them before teasing the nipples until they ache for more of his touch. His hand skims lower, and I whimper into his mouth.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, his fingers stroking just below my navel.

“Please,” I say, my breaths coming faster.

“Please stop?”

I shake my head. “Please don’t stop.”

His hand moves lower, and I cry out before his mouth descends on mine again.

TWENTY-ONE

I
awake to the morning sun’s weak rays peeking over the tops of the trees. As soon as the previous night’s memories come rushing back to me, I smile and cover my face with a pillow. Never before have I experienced such pleasure, but it’s almost bittersweet. Now that I have been so intimate with him, I cannot imagine losing him. I roll over fitfully, and a glowing light catches my eye. My mother’s journal.

I pick up the book gently, my hand shaky on the soft leather. Every other time, her words were predictions. What would she say now? I almost cannot bear to look. Especially since Lord Thornewood’s declaration is so fresh and with no official proposal.

I let the book fall open.

Our mother sacrificed herself for Lucy. This, then, must be the vision her earlier journal entry referred to. I roll the thought around in my mind for a moment, my chest tight. Papa must have known the truth. How tortured he must have been to know his wife was slowly dying to save their child. Tears sting my eyes as I think of all the times she treated Lucy’s headaches. I only ever knew Mama was sick, never the cause. I think of the power I loosed to save Robert, and I know my mother did the right thing. Still, I cannot contain the sob wrenched from deep inside me.

Lucy can never know the truth. She would never survive the guilt, of this I’m certain. I clutch the journal to my chest as tears roll down my cheeks.

If I am ever faced with giving my life for one of my siblings, I will do it without hesitation. Even knowing the truth about my mother. From the beginning of her letter, she must hope there is someone who can protect me from my own recklessness. “Yes, but what will he say when he knows the truth?” I whisper to the pages. How can love exist when one person has such a terrible secret?

I lie in bed with the intention of only sleeping until Devi comes to fetch me for breakfast, but she must have had pity on me because the sun is much higher when I wake again. I’m groggy without a full night’s rest, but I force myself out of bed and ring for Devi.

“There’s a nip in the air, so I think you’ll be most comfortable in the wool riding habit,” Devi says as she helps me dress quickly.

While she does my hair, I eat a small meal of biscuits and tea. “Am I terribly late?” I ask.

“No, my lady. You’ll be right on time as breakfast ended not long ago. The other guests are preparing to join Lord Thornewood and Lord James outside.”

A soft knock at the door, and then Lucy calls out, “Katherine? May I come in?”

“Yes, do,” I say.

She knits her brows. “Are you alright? You never came down for breakfast.”

“I’m well. I’m sorry to have worried you.” I smile when she looks unconvinced. “I only overslept. I had trouble falling asleep last night—probably from the excitement of the evening.” Not a lie, just not the whole truth. I itch to tell her, but I cannot say anything in front of Devi.

Her face relaxes into a smile. “That’s a relief, but it’s unfortunate you didn’t get enough rest. I don’t blame you, though—the ball was wonderful.”

“It was, and I suppose this scavenger hunt of Lord James’s will be fun as well. Did he mention anything about it?”

She shakes her head. “Only for us to meet him by the stables. Evidently we can either ride or go on foot—whichever we’re more comfortable with.”

“I suppose that’s in a misguided attempt to include our grandmother and Lady Hasting.”

She giggles. “They would never do something so free-spirited.”

“All done, my lady,” Devi says. “Do you need anything else?”

“Thank you, Devi. No.”

She smiles and bobs a curtsy before exiting the room.

Lucy loops her arm through mine. “Shall we go?”

I look down at her smiling face, and I almost tell her. Something stops me though. Maybe it’s because it hardly feels real.

I nod. “Yes, let’s.”

There will always be time to tell her later.

Everyone save my grandmother and Lady Hasting are outside the stables when Lucy and I join them. Lord Thornewood catches my eye, and I smile at him and lift a hand in greeting. I let my breath out in a rush when he returns my smile. I must have been anxious for his reaction without realizing it.

Lord James moves among the small crowd, handing out pieces of parchment. “On these pieces of paper is written a list of items. You are to find these items before anyone else, and in so doing, win the prize.”

“Ribbon? A bird’s egg?” Lady Alford, one of the guests who arrived yesterday, says with a frown. “However are we to find such small things on all this land?”

James grins. “You didn’t expect this to be easy, did you?”

“What’s the prize?” Lord Brashier asks.

James sighs loudly; but from his wide grin, I can tell he’s enjoying every second of this. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” several of the other guests say.

“If you insist.” He clears his throat and speaks in a loud voice. “The grand prize shall be: a trip to Bath in Lord Thornewood’s own motorcar and a stay at his luxurious home there.”

I hear appreciative murmurs from those around me, and I must say, I join them in thinking this is a lovely prize. I’ve never been to Bath. I glance over at Lord Thornewood and wonder with a secret smile if he is also included in the package.

“You will each have a partner, so that should make it easier to find these things,” James continues.

“Can we choose our partner?” Eliza asks. When James nods, she continues with a calculating smile, “then I choose Lord Thornewood.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lord James says. “I forgot to mention all teams must be same-sex. Also, my brother will not be able to participate as he has an unfair advantage.”

Her face falls comically, but before I can revel in her disappointment, Lord James calls out with a mischievous grin, “But I’m sure the elder Miss Sinclair would make a superb partner.”