Blood Lust (25 page)

For a moment he didn’t move. Then a low sound came from his throat and he reached out to touch her, enfold her in his arms. He buried his face in her hair. For seconds, he just held her, then he lifted her against his chest, kicked open the door, and stepped out into the hallway.

“We’ll be safe in my room.” His boots echoed down the stairs. “We’ll get your things in the morning.”

Katherine did not argue. Shock had claimed the last of her reserves and she had started to shake all over. When they reached his room, he drew back the covers on the bed and placed her carefully in the middle. He lit a candle on the bedside table, then went over and locked the door. Pulling a pistol from his satchel, he checked the load and set it on the table next to the candle.

Seating himself carefully on the edge of the bed, he reached toward her. His hand shook as he gently lifted her chin, turning it into the light so that he could survey the bruises. He blanched when he realized the extent of the sergeant’s cruelty.

The muscles in his throat constricted. He couldn’t seem to speak. “I’m sorry. So damned sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Katherine said softly. “You came for me. That is what is important.” But she was still shivering and she was still frightened inside.

He gently parted the front of her nightgown, saw the bruises beginning to darken around her breasts. “My God, he really hurt you.” His eyes slid closed. “Damn the bastard to hell.” His gaze was piercing. “I never should have brought you here. It’s my fault this happened.”

Katherine gripped his hand, felt the tension pulsing through it. “Do you think everything that happens is your fault? Just because you are a duke does not make you responsible for every bad thing that occurs.”

But the look on his face said he believed that it did.

“Even your father wasn’t perfect. If he had controlled his temper, if he hadn’t followed you to the inn, he might not have been killed, or do you believe that is your fault, as well?”

His head dropped forward. A weight seemed to settle on his shoulders. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Katherine blinked back the tears. She rested a hand on his cheek, felt the hard line of his jaw beneath her fingers. “I am still shaking. Please, William, I am so very tired but I know I shan’t be able to sleep. Will you hold me?”

She thought he would argue, that he would refuse. Instead he turned away, bent down and began to pull off his boots. His shirt and breeches followed. With his broad chest bare, wearing only a pair of tight fitting cotton drawers, he climbed into bed beside her. Katherine snuggled into his arms, rested her head against his thick muscled shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered. In minutes she was asleep. As she had said, she knew she would be safe. And that William would not close his eyes before the sun rose the following morning.

Chapter Seventeen

William was moving about the room when Katherine awoke. She opened one eye and discovered he was packing. He had apparently retrieved her small satchel from upstairs. It sat on a small chair beside the bed.

She forced herself upright, wincing at the pain screaming through her. Everything ached, her head pounded, her breasts ached and she had a puffy lip.

“What are you doing, William?”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Taking you home.”

“What happened with the sergeant?” she asked, ignoring his comment.

“The soldiers have all left.” He stuffed a shirt into his satchel as she swung her legs over the side of the wooden bed.

“We don’t have to leave. Not yet. I’m sure the cook will understand my being late to work, especially once she learns what happened.”

“Are you mad?” He started toward her, his eyes wide. “Have you looked at yourself? You look like hell and there is no doubt you feel that way. You cannot possibly go downstairs in the first place. I’m taking you home before something else happens.”

He did have a point and she couldn’t deny it. Working in a kitchen was the last thing she felt like doing today. However, this was the choice they had come for and she wasn’t about to quit until they had the answers they sought.

“Just give me a couple of hours. As bad as I loo, the servants are bound to be sympathetic. Maybe they’ll confide in me and tell me what we need to know.”

“Absolutely not.” He went back to his packing. “We’re leaving and that’s the end of it.”

Katherine rose to her feet, wincing at the pain that shot through her body. Fortunately for her, he was looking the other way. “We have to see this through. Please, let me have one more chance to see if I can find out the truth.”

His eyes came up to her face. “I’ve hurt you enough.”

“I told you before, what happened wasn’t your fault. Now, I’m asking you, please just let me have one more chance. Two more hours and then we can leave.”

He walked across the room, his expression stormy. “That is not fair.” he threw his satchel onto the bed.

“William, let me help.”

He walked toward her, stopping so close that they touched. He stared down at her. “Two hours, Katherine. That’s all. No excuses. After that, if you won’t leave I’ll drag you out over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.” He bent down staring intensely at her. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Very clear, my lord.” She smiled at him. Turning away from him, she quickly dressed, donning her servant’s clothes, ignoring the pains that she felt with every movement.

“I’ll meet you behind the inn, at the grove of trees. If you aren’t there in exactly two hours, I’m coming back to get you.”

“I’ll be there,” she called out, making her way down the stairs. As soon as she was out of his sight she gave in to the pain she had held in.

The cook was busy washing a heavy iron pot when Katherine walked into the kitchen.

“Good heavens, you look worse than I thought.”

“You heard?”

The woman nodded. “We all heard about it. Some of them soldiers was talking about the fella that came to help you. Nobody seemed to know who he was.” She wrinkled her face, her eyes twinkled. “However, some of us got our notions.”

The heavyset woman laughed and walked toward Katherine like a mother surveying the bruises. “They say they had to carry that big sergeant out of here on a stretcher. Too bad the bloody heathen was still breathin’”

“What can I do to help you?” Katherine asked and the woman’s frown intensified.

“You don’t plan on working?”

The woman sighed. “Me girl’s back and she can wash the pots and pans. You can sit right here and I’ll bring you some towels to mend.”

It wasn’t much of a task, but Katherine was grateful for the older woman’s understanding. They talked for a while, until the girl appeared. They got on well and like her mother, the young woman was more than sympathetic, as were the other servants. By the end of the first hour Katherine had eased the conversation in the direction she wanted.

“The man who helped me, he said he was here some years back, the night the old duke was murdered. He said he didn’t much approve of the inn’s clientele.”

The older woman crowed. “I knew it were him, that handsome young squire what came in yesterday. He came once before to see me daughter.”

Katherine scowled. William hadn’t mentioned this. “He was very gallant,” she said though the words came out a bit more grudgingly than they had been intended. “He risked himself to save me.” the conversation moved forward. Katherine directing them little by little to the night of the old duke’s murder.

“I think someone here saw what happened that night,” she confided in the others. “I think someone knows the young duke was innocent.”

The cook’s young daughter looked around, as if to make sure no one could hear, then leaned down close to Katherine’s ear. “I saw it,” she said. “I was only eleven years old, but I saw this man climb the back stairs holding a pistol. I saw him point it through the window and fire. I was only a little girl, but it is something I won’t ever forget.”

Katherine stood still. Inside her heart was hammering hard. “Did you see who it was?”

“It was him, the duke of Sussex. Only then he weren’t the duke.”

Katherine’s knees nearly buckled under her. She dragged in a lungful of air. She had done it, she had found a witness! She turned at the sound of a deep male voice.

“You’re late,” William bellowed, his expression tight.

Katherine crossed to where he stood and smiled at his scowling face. “I’m sorry. The hours slipped past faster than I imagined, but I think you’ll agree that the time was well spent.” She was smiling as she reached for his hand and led him into the kitchen.

“Lord Hunt, there is someone I would like you to meet.” She frowned, fighting a sudden surge of jealousy. “Unless the two of you have met before.”

They had succeeded. They had succeeded in finding a person who had witnessed the murder. Although the young woman had been but a child at the time, it was one more item William had against his brother.

Returning to London, William glanced down at the small, sleeping figure propped up against his shoulder. He pulled the lap robe up to her chin and tucked it carefully around her to ward off the chill. In the gray sky, the sun squeezing between the clouds, he could see the dark purple bruises on her face and anger rose inside him. His bloodlust was once again trying to edge its way to the surface. It was getting harder and harder for him to control.

He knew too well how she must be hurting. He had blamed himself for it, but if she hadn’t come with him, they would have never discovered the young girl who had witnessed the murder. She would never have agreed to testify against his brother.

As it was, against her mother’s wishes, with Katherine’s gentle persuasion, and his guarantee of her safety, the girl had finally agreed.

Perhaps she would only have to tell her story to the magistrates. William hoped so. But it eased his mind to know he could count on her, and he believed he could.

Katherine made a sound in her sleep and snuggled closer. She was small, not much bigger than a child, but she was so much a woman. Even now, her face battered and bruised, her lip cut and swollen, he wanted her with a desperation close to obsession.

He had tried to stay away from her, to protect her from the lust he always felt when she was near, but so far it had been a losing battle. She was another thing that made his bloodlust simmer beneath his emotions. It was also obvious that she certainly made things easier for him.

What was he to do with her now? William wasn’t really sure. By the time they returned to London, the papers would be ready for the release of Katherine’s dowry. She would have the money she needed, and he had enough evidence to confront Jane Roberts.

He should move out of her house, get away from her before he gave in to his lust again. But staying with Katherine had proved to be the perfect cover. Through Katherine and Damien, he could follow Benjamin’s moves. And living in her house, he could keep an eye on her, as he had intended from the start. He didn’t want to see her hurt again.

William decided he would stay. His body was already clenching to think of the nights he would have to spend in the room next to hers. It wouldn’t be for long, he told himself. In a few more weeks, his goal would be attained, and his time with Katherine would be at an end.

Candlelight flickered on the silk walls of Jane’s bedchamber. The massive gilt canopied bed, had been turned back in anticipation of hi arrival.

Benjamin almost smiled. The woman was ridiculously transparent. Jane knew he had money again, vast sums of it at his disposal, and she wanted to win back his favor.

“It’s been far too long, your grace.” The low seductive voice came from the doorway of her dressing room at the opposite end of her bedchamber. “Benjamin, I’ve missed you, darling.”

She was wearing a sheer rose nightgown, a shade darker than the silk walls of her bedchamber. It set off the paleness of her skin, the darkness of her hair, her succulent figure, and Benjamin began to grow hard.

Though he schooled his lust not to show, inwardly he admired her efforts and how skillfully she used them to gain the desired effect. He was tired of his insipid, unresponsive wife. He was glad she had gone back to her country house, his house now, he corrected. Besides that, Jane had always been a phenomenon in bed.

He arched a brow in her direction. “What’s the matter, my love, has your voracious appetite consumed the others?”

Her red lips drew together in a soft seductive pout. “You hurt me, your grace.” She came toward him, a vision in her sheer, flowing gown, her breasts nearly spilling from the bodice. The sight of them made his shaft begin to throb.

“Even if it were true,” she continued, “I do not remember it ever being so with you.”

Benjamin laughed. “Such flattery, my dear. The likes of it should not go unrewarded.” He moved toward her, meeting her at the foot of the bed, drawing her into his arms. He didn’t bother to kiss her, just cupped each of her breasts and began to unbraid the nipples Jane gasped as he harshly tweaked the ends.

Her breathing quickened. She had always enjoyed rough play. Jane smiled as she helped him remove his silver brocade waistcoat. He tossed it aside, then bent and kissed the smooth white skin at the base of her throat. The hands he placed on her shoulders urged her down on her knees and Jane instantly complied. She freed him, then smiled with satisfaction at the stiffness of his arousal.