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Authors: Catherine Coulter

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Devil's Embrace
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“If you’ll recall, you told me in great seriousness that you were nearly a woman grown when you were eight years old.”

“Good heavens, I had forgotten all about that. It was, as I recall, the first time I ever proposed marriage to you, my lord. But you, if I do not disremember, were a stiff and starchy lad, full of ambition, and would not take me seriously.”

Edward gave her a light shove toward a large rock where her clothing lay in a neat pile. “Get dressed,” he said roughly. “I trust you have a dry shift.”

“Yes, of course I do. Would you care to help me dress, Edward?” she asked, hoping to coax him out of a mood she did not understand.

“No. But I shall ensure that no other man comes along to see you naked.”

“But, Edward,” she said demurely, “we are on Brougham land. You are the only man who has ever come to the beach and seen me swimming. Which makes me wonder, my lord, do you often make it a habit to spy on young ladies? I will not believe you if you tell me that you recognized me immediately.”

Edward flushed, despite himself. Had she been a village girl, and willing, he was not at all certain what he would have done.

“Ah, Edward, you have become a rake, I see. Is that why you seem to care so much for indolent foreign ladies?”

“Cassie, you are a baggage. How do you know about such things as rakes? Surely Eliott would not discuss such matters with you.”

“You know that Eliott is twenty-two now, and no longer a boy. I have asked him again and again, but he will not tell me what he does when he goes to Colchester or to London. He always mumbles something about business, which I know is a lie.”

Cassie stripped off his riding coat and Edward turned
away. “It would appear to me that you have been allowed to run wild since your father died.”

“Alas, it is true, but all I had to warm me at night were your rather infrequent letters. And from the beatific grin on Eliott’s face each time he returns from one of his jaunts, I would say that mere letters are hardly a fulfilling substitute.”

He smiled, but refused to be drawn. “I was sorry, Cass, to hear of your father’s death.”

“It was probably for the best,” she said matter-of-factly. “He had grown quite odd, you know, particularly during the past two years. I had the inescapable feeling that he tried to avoid me. It is Eliott’s opinion that I am too much like mother and that looking at me brought him pain. I think he always disliked me, because I killed mother.”

“Don’t be a fool, Cassie,” he said sharply, turning to face her.

“But she died birthing me, Edward, and she was but twenty-three. I become depressed every time I think about it.”

Edward did not immediately reply as he stared at her. She was seated on a rock, dressed in a light blue muslin gown, sashed tightly at her waist, fastening the strap of her sandal. He glimpsed a long white-stockinged leg before she whisked her dress down over her ankle.

She rose and gave him her hand. “Are you now more approving of my appearance, Lord Edward?”

“You are almost as beautiful as the fifteen-year-old girl I left three years ago.”

She gave him a dazzling smile. “And you, my lord, are still the most handsome gentleman of my acquaintance.” She appeared to inspect him closely, from head to toe. “I cannot decide which I admire more about you, your size or—” She cocked her head to one side.

“My height or?”

“Or your beautiful eyes,” she said promptly. She touched her fingertips gently to his cheek. “They are such a deep brown with golden flecks, just like your hair. I suppose that many ladies have told you that.”

“Perhaps one or two, but it meant very little to me.” His
eyes softened on her face. “What did mean a great deal to me was receiving your letters. Your spelling is atrocious, Cass. Many a time I felt as though I were deciphering a military code.”

“Well, your letters, my lord, read for the most part like a campaign log. I have become quite adept at making salt and flour maps, so I knew where you were. Poor Becky could never figure out why I became such an avid student of geography.” She paused a moment and dug the toe of her sandal into the sand. “I many times had the feeling that you were not being altogether honest with me, Edward. I could never grasp what your life was like.”

Edward said with deliberate coolness, “Suffice it to say, Cass, that warfare and military life did not bear much resemblance to the exploits I dreamed of as a boy. There is never much satisfaction in dispatching another fellow human to his Maker. Now, Cass, what of you? Have you been a sad trial to Miss Petersham?”

She accepted his rebuff, though it hurt her to think that he would likely never tell her much of his military years. She replied easily, “Not really. For the most part, I have been as circumspect as even you would wish, Edward, though I still sail and swim as often as possible. I daresay that our parties and dinners hardly made fascinating reading for you.”

“You are quite wrong. Your letters always reminded me of what was really important to me. What did Miss Petersham think of your writing to me?”

She had been frowning thoughtfully over his words, but at the mention of her companion, her eyes twinkled. “Poor Becky. We are quite close, you know, except in matters that concern you. Eliott and I discussed it most thoroughly and decided that in the case of our letters, it would be best to commit a sin of omission. She never found out.”

“Then I daresay that she will not welcome me with open arms.”

“True, but Eliott is my guardian and she can hardly turn you away. She will come about, you will see. I fear though that she will be excessively disappointed that we will not
be going to London. I fancy she expected me to snare a royal duke.”

“You and one of the fat German dukes. Good lord.” He squeezed her hand. “Come, Cass, let us get my mare, and I shall escort you back to the hall.”

He felt her fingers close over his and saw that she was looking up at him, a disturbing smile on her lips.

“Before we go, Edward, I would that you kiss me again. I have never been kissed before and I must own that I like it a lot.”

He leaned down and kissed her lightly on her closed lips.

She stared up at him doggedly. “That is not at all how you kissed me the first time.” She added hesitantly, “I like the other things you did—with your hands.”

He stood stiffly before her, trying to still the twisting desire in his loins. “Cass, it is not proper.”

“But why, Edward? Did you not come back to be my husband?”

“No—yes. Dammit, I have not yet spoken to Eliott. And as much as you scoff at the idea, there is your Season in London.”

One thick-arched brow flared upward. “Season in London? Come, Edward, I was but jesting. Now that you are returned, everything has changed. I shall have no duke, not even a royal one.”

“It is important, Cassie,” he said heavily. “You have been sheltered. It would not be fair of me to prevent you from meeting other gentlemen. Don’t you understand? You may meet someone else whom you would prefer to wed.”

Cassie raised her chin in a proud, stubborn gesture that he remembered well. “I admit that I am young and not much experienced. But I am not a fool, Edward, nor am I a silly, romantic girl whose mind is filled with maudlin drivel. I have long known that you are the man to suit me. I beg you not to question my motives or my feelings.”

“You call this place a Garden of Eden, Cass. You know nothing of what lies beyond even Ipswich.”

“Edward, you make it sound as though I have been raised in a convent. You know that Becky needled Eliott the moment I turned seventeen to let me put my hair up
and entertain lavishly. I assure you, I have been most feted by many gentlemen, even some from your precious London. I have found them, for the most part, to have very little under their powdered hair save empty, vain heads. Now, I would that you cease this nonsense.”

“Very well, Cass, we shall discuss the matter another time.”

“Edward, if you do not believe me, I shall simply have to seduce you and force you to wed me.”

“What do you know of seduction, Miss?”

“If you will kiss me again, I daresay that I shall come by it quite naturally.”

There was a woman’s smile on her face, and Edward’s honorable intentions crumbled. He pulled her roughly against him and kissed her temples, the tip of her straight nose, the hollow of her throat. His lips touched hers, featherlight. “Part your lips, love.”

She obeyed him willingly. His hands cupped her hips as he explored her mouth, lifting her off the ground to press her against him.

Through her gown and petticoats, Cassie felt the fierce hardness of him. She had seen animals mate and knew that when men and women coupled, men entered women’s bodies. She felt an almost painful ache building between her thighs and realized that she wanted more than anything to feel Edward naked against her, caressing her, making himself a part of her. She dug her fingers into his back and pressed her body so tightly against him that she could feel his heartbeat against her breasts.

She gave a cry of frustrated disappointment when he abruptly pulled her away from him.

“Enough, Cass,” he said harshly. “No, don’t argue with me. I refuse to be seduced by a slip of a girl who supposedly knows nothing about it. Come, let me escort you to Hemphill Hall.”

C
hapter 2

 

C
assie drew Edward up the wide front steps of Hemphill Hall and thrust open the door, nearly toppling Menkle, the Brougham butler.

“Menkle, look who is home, finally. And to stay.”

Menkle forgot his dignity and bestowed a toothful smile upon the viscount. “Welcome home, my lord.”

“Thank you, Menkle.”

“Where is Eliott, Menkle?”

“In the library, Miss Cassie, reviewing the account ledgers, I believe.”

Cassie laughed. “Poor Eliott, I’ll wager he is muttering to himself and tugging his hair. Guilder was here all morning—our agent, you know—and left Eliott frantically toting up columns of numbers. He will be pleased to be rescued, Edward.”

Eliott Brougham, fourth Baron Tinnsdale, was in fact staring past his account books out over the east lawn, a young lady in his thoughts. He started guiltily every few minutes and forced his attention back to his task. He looked up, startled, as Cassie burst unceremoniously into the library.

“Close your books, my love, for I’ve a surprise for you.”

“What, Cass, you’ve finally caught that large sea bass for my dinner?”

“It’s not a fish, Eliott, but I trust that I have finally caught him.”

“Edward. Good God, man, it’s been ages.” Eliott quickly rose to shake Edward Lyndhurst’s outstretched hand.

“I trust we do not disturb you, Eliott. This madcap sister of yours dragged me in here without a by-your-leave.” He
has become a man, Edward thought, gazing at Cassie’s brother. Though he had the same open, smiling face, three years had added firmness to his jaw, and his light blue eyes seemed to hold widened experience, if not wisdom.

“I am quite used to her bursting in upon me.” Eliott laughed. “I am only safe when I am taking my bath.”

“Edward is home to stay, Eliott,” Cassie said, tugging at her brother’s sleeve, “forever.”

“Oh?” Eliott said carefully, his eyes upon Edward’s face.

“As Cass said, Eliott, she’s finally caught me,” Edward said blandly.

“He kissed me, Eliott. Would you not say that he has compromised me irrevocably? He must now do the honorable thing.”

“I think what he should do first, Cass, is join us in a glass of sherry. Despite all your letters, Captain Lord Delford, I vow we have a good deal of catching up to do.”

“Your letters were so terribly military, Edward,” Cassie said by way of explanation, “that I saw no reason for Eliott not to read them. There was only one that I did not show him, for he would have been obliged to call you out.”

“To your safe return home, Edward,” Eliott said as he clicked his sherry glass to Edward’s, then to his sister’s.

“To a new beginning,” Cassie said.

“To a continuation of a long ago beginning,” Edward said.

“Let us sit down,” Eliott said. He had often wondered if Cassie’s lifelong infatuation for Edward would endure into adulthood, but as he watched them, he could not doubt that it had. He saw their eyes meet, and although they made no move to touch each other, they might as well have been locked together.

Eliott cleared his throat. “Your mother is well, Edward?”

“She enjoys her ill health, as always. Uncle Edgar’s death came as something of a shock to her.”

“Your uncle was an honorable gentleman,” Eliott said. “Your estate was in capable hands. Speaking of hands, Edward, did that shoulder wound you suffered a couple of years ago heal well?”

“Not even a twinge now. I was fortunate enough to fall into the care of a sober surgeon. In India, that commodity is hard to find.”

“I insist upon seeing the scar,” Cassie said.

Eliott frowned at his sister. “Really, Cass, Edward will think that you have not been properly raised. You should have seen her, Edward, when you finally wrote of your wound. She was like a raging virago, and if it had not been for my calm good sense, I think she would have sailed her sloop to India by herself.”

“I was very worried, though speaking of Eliott and good sense together is far off the mark. But since he became Baron Tinnsdale, he is so full of self-consequence that he must needs continually make up all sorts of outrageous qualities for himself.”

“At least his idea of good sense does not include swimming like some sea nymph in the ocean or taking his life in his hands in a rickety sailboat.”

“My boat is not at all rickety, my lord. And as for my imitating a sea nymph, I will doubt your honesty if you say that you were displeased.”

“Cass, I trust you were wearing
something
while you were swimming.”

“She was like Venus coming from the sea. Quite a lovely prospect, I must admit.”

“I was wearing a shift,” Cassie said, gazing from her brother’s raised brows to Edward. She rose gracefully and shook out her skirts. “Now that you know the extent of Lord Delford’s brazen behavior, Eliott, I shall leave you to deal with him. Do not let him escape, brother, else I shall have to take my shredded virtue and hie myself to a convent.”

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