Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) (27 page)

A trickle of sweat rolled from his temple to the linen beneath his head. He swallowed. “The lesson?” He was appalled at the croak in his voice.

She moved her hips a little and he felt her clench around him. “I want you to remember that from now on, when you come to me, when you make love to me…it is because I allow it. It is because I want it.”

“I understand.” He shifted his hips and once again she stopped.

“Vaughn, I don’t want to have to say it again.”

He clenched his jaw. Once she untied his hands, she would get a lesson she would not forget in a hurry. He would take her over his lap and spank her bare bottom. He groaned. The image did not help matters.

“I cannot wait much longer,” he said between clenched teeth. His whole body was now covered in sweat with his efforts.

She began to move, a slow, sensual rhythm that soon gave way to a frenzy. He urged her on with soft spoken words and struggled against his bonds to no avail. Then it happened, her body visibly
tightened
, her sheath squeezing him like a vise as she cried out his name.

With a
single
thrust, he followed her over the edge, his seed spilling into her with a hard spasm that left him utterly spent.

Minutes later she recovered enough to lift herself away from his body. The soft brush of her against him made his deeply sensitized body leap, but he was still tied and the movement was aborted. Every nerve end in his body felt raw.

She rose to her feet and walked over to the bedroom door and startled him by locking it and pulling out the key.

“What do you plan now?” he asked as she walked towards him, the sweet hips swinging in small circles.

“I plan to sleep. It has been a long day.”

“Sleep sounds good,” he admitted.

She picked up the knife from the floor beside the bed and slipped it beneath the strained bindings around his wrists and feet, severing them with a sharp tug.

He rubbed his abused wrists and watched with a touch of surprise as she picked up his shirt and sliced it in half with the knife.

“Elisa…!”

“Time for you to leave,” she said calmly.

“What do you mean?” He smiled a little. “You just locked the door.”

“That’s right. You can go out the window just like any other lover would.”

“The window…?” He looked out upon the moon-flooded garden, one storey below the window. “You just cut up my one remaining item of clothing.”

“Just a small reminder of my control, in case you didn’t quite understand the first time.”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll sleep here.”

“No.”

Just the one word, but he saw the iron will behind it. And then he really did understand. Whatever power he had held in their relationship was gone now. They were equals and she was now exercising her power. He could refuse to submit, but that would end the relationship immediately.

He stood. “No more playthings, hmmm?” he murmured.

“Exactly,” she agreed.

“And if I’m caught out there, Elisa?”

“There’s only a small likelihood of that happening. You’re quick and strong.”

“You would take such a risk?”

“It is you who takes this risk. I will swear that you must have been having your way with my maid, next door and Marianne will support me in this. And your clothes will be found in her room.”

“They will not believe that.”

“Why not?
 
It’s well-spread gossip in the servants quarters that the maids all adore you.” There was a touch of dryness in her voice.

“Why, Elisa? Why this?”

“Because I want you to taste the possibility of what it would be like to be thought badly of. I wanted to force you to submit to me and risk everything, just as you forced me to.”

He caught her head in his hands and gave her a thorough, long kiss. “Good night, sweet Elisa,” he assured her and went to the open window to begin his risky trip back to the safety of his bedchamber without further protest.

The price of potential embarrassment should he be caught abroad stark naked in the moonlight was worth it.

Chapter Fifteen

“I need a word with you.”

Elisa set the cup of tea down on the table and turned her attention to her fiancé, who had just entered the drawing room.

Sitting back in her seat, she folded her hands in her lap. “Good morning.”

Rufus walked to the mantle and leaned heavily against it, looking up at the elegant picture of his great grandfather, a man to whom he bore absolutely no physical resemblance. He turned to her. “You lied to me.”

White, hot fear raced through her. “Lied?”

“Yesterday you said you visited Lady Caroline, yet my man was there and he did not see you, nor was it mentioned that you had visited.”

Elisa kept very still, her heart sinking. That damned story she had concocted at the last minute! Surely that would not be her undoing?

Deep in her heart she had known that sooner or later the lies she was sowing would eventually catch up with her. She just hadn’t expected it to be this soon. What of Raymond? Rufus had indicated that Raymond would be returned to her before too long—she had to play for more time!

“I…didn’t want you to be angry with me.”

He planted both hands on his hips. “Why would I be angry?”

“You don’t like me to ride and I—”

“Stop it!” His voice cut straight through her words. He was upon her in two strides, taking her by the arm and lifting her up toward his face, so close she could smell his stale breath on her cheek. “You were with him, weren’t you?”

She swallowed hard. “With whom?”

His bloodshot eyes pierced hers. “You spent the night with Vaughn. You were with him yesterday as well. That is why your gown has dirt and grass stains.”

She winced as he twisted her wrist painfully. How had he learned of her ruined riding habit? Was she surrounded by spies?

“I want the truth. Now!”

“You’re hurting me!” She tried to pull away, but he was unrelenting.

He thrust her from him, and she fell into a table. “Now, Elisa!”

“I had Marianne with me yesterday. And I fell from my horse. That is why I had grass stains.”

“You took Marianne riding?”

“She is an excellent horsewoman and I thought it more respectable to go calling upon neighbors and retail establishments with a maid to accompany me.”

“You are a lying whore!” Rufus declared.

Above all she knew she could not rise to the bait in his insult. She could not afford to break off her relationship with Rufus yet. She must placate, must play for time. And then she realized the train of her thoughts, the idea that Vaughn had planted yesterday: once Raymond was back with her, she would leave this odious, dangerous man without a backward look and consider her debt to him paid in full.

Play for time.

“Why don’t you ask Marianne yourself and put this behind us?” she told Rufus. She crossed the room and pulled the bell-pull.

It was a huge gamble she took, hoping Marianne would back her without coaching, but it would buy her more time than a less risky gambit—if Marianne played along.

Joshua appeared almost immediately, making her wonder if he had been hovering by the door, listening. “Yes, my lord?”

“Send Marianne to us right away,” Rufus said, before Elisa could request her maid attend for herself. He threw himself into the nearest chair. “Then we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Afraid her legs would give out, Elisa sat in a high-backed upright chair and waited for her maid. She kept her hands in her laps and fought not to wring them anxiously. A few silent moments passed before a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Rufus said, sparing Elisa a quick glance before they both turned their attention to the maid.

Marianne looked terrified. Elisa prayed she wouldn’t fail her.

Rufus stood abruptly, nearly overturning the chair in his haste. Marianne visibly cowered as he approached her.

“Tell me what you did with your day yesterday,” he demanded.

Elisa’s stomach clenched tight and she thought her heart might burst through her chest, it was beating so hard. Rufus had asked an open question! How could Marianne possibly provide the correct answer?

“Why, my lord, I went riding with my lady Elisa,” Marianne said, her tone puzzled, as if she couldn’t see the point of the question.

Elisa nearly sobbed aloud her relief. Marianne had found some meager clue that told her the lie she must give.

“Really? Was it a pleasant day?” Rufus asked with oily concern.

“Pleasant enough in this chilly countryside, m’lord. But…the lady, she did fair ruin her riding habit. I’ve despaired over the cleaning of it.”

“So say you. How did she ruin it?”

Elisa knew Marianne could not possibly answer this one correctly.

“Well?” Rufus demanded when Marianne did not answer straight away.

“My lord, Miss Elisa would not want me to reveal that, I am sure.”

“I am her future husband, woman. If you wish to keep your position in this household you will answer me at once.”

“I understand, my lord. My lady prides herself on her horsemanship, so she will not like me telling you that she fell from her horse.”

Elisa bit down on her lip and did not bother hiding her reaction when Rufus whirled to face her. She could not believe her good luck, and judging by Rufus’ red, blotched complexion, he did not believe it either. His fury was almost palpable.

He turned back to Marianne and his movement put Eliza in a position where she could see her maid once more. Marianne did not so much as glance at Elisa. She held her chin up and her shoulders square, proud and elegant.

“Did you look in on your mistress last night?” Rufus asked.

Marianne answered without hesitation. “Yes, my lord, I did.”

“What time was it?”

“I’m not certain. It was the middle of the night and I thought I heard something.”

“It is not your custom to check on her?”

“Not usually, my lord. My lady used to sleep peacefully until of late.”

“And why is that?”

“She’s been worried about you, my lord. She told me you appeared tired and she feared your attending the Munroe’s ball may have been too taxing.”

Instantly Rufus’ shoulders relaxed a bit and he turned toward Elisa. She forced a soft smile.

“Is this true?”

She nodded. “Yes, my lord. You slept much of yesterday—longer than usual and last night you seemed—”

“Exhausted,” Marianne finished for her.

The frown left his features instantly. “That will be all Marianne. Thank you.”

The maid left the room and Rufus turned his full attention to Elisa.

He watched her several minutes, saying nothing, leaving her with nothing to do but watch him in return. She must look completely innocent. She must carry this out. Marianne had done her part.

He approached her and took her hand in his. With the other hand, he traced a line from finger to wrist. Slowly he brought the hand to his lips and kissed where he had so furiously twisted it. Already the skin was turning black and blue. “I didn’t know you were worried about me.”

The urge to rip her hand from his grasp was near overwhelming, but she resisted. She did not believe the gentleness of his tone was a true indication of his thoughts. “How can I not be?” she responded. “You’ve taken such good care of me.”

“It pleases me you understand your place in this household, woman. It appears I was wrong about you and that wretched son of mine, which is just as well—” He twisted her wrist the slightest bit, causing her to cry out. “It saves me the bother of killing you both.”

He let go her wrist, tossing it back into her lap like damaged goods, turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Elisa remained seated until the violent trembling subsided.

She was not fooled by Rufus’s words. He had not thought he was mistaken at all. He had fallen back for a short time because he had no proof and that was all. The last words had been a direct threat: he knew about Vaughn and her. If he found any proof at all, he would follow through on his promise and kill them.

* * * * *

Vaughn walked amongst the old ruin of what in Henry II’s day had been a grand castle protecting the county from French marauders. Now it was nothing but a heap of old stones, sitting upon on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

It seemed like a lifetime has passed since last he’d visited this spot. The last time he’d kicked at these stones had been before his mother’s death. They had picnicked beneath the enormous oak that had once graced the bailey of the great fortress. While waves pounded against the cliff, he’d listened to her soft voice as she told him about the brave knights who had lived in the castle and protected it from enemies.

Everyone had an enemy, she’d said. Kings and beggars, thieves and queens. At the time he’d wondered who his enemy was. He found it fitting that his enemy was his own father, in keeping with the Greek tragedies his schoolmasters had once forced him to learn and recite in perfect ancient Greek. A tragic stage seemed to fit his mood, but what didn’t suit him at all was that most of the characters in Greek dramas ended up dead.