Invitation to Ruin (27 page)

He hesitated. The splash of water, dripping from her ebony hair into the tub, was the only sound in the room.

She gave another sob. “Never mind. I was wrong.”

He couldn’t do it. When he looked upon her heart-shaped face, full of innocent anxiousness, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel.

“Yes I want you. I did. I do … however, I meant it when I said this was not the right time.”

Relief flooded her features and she relaxed into the tub. Her mouth pouted. “When will be the right time?”

Before he could answer, there was a discreet knock on the retiring room door, and Stevens called, “I’m sorry to disturb
you, my lord, but Lord Strathmore is below, and he says it’s urgent.”

Grasping at any excuse, Anthony turned to Melissa. “That is why it is not the right time. Rufus was due. We will discuss your behavior later. I must get dressed and meet with him.”

He handed her a towel and tried to still the rush of desire that lanced through his already throbbing groin as she rose like a goddess from the tub.

The silk and lace negligee clung to her skin, her pert breasts exposed and nipples hard. At the visceral sight before him, he almost hopped right back in the tub. His body screamed to take her. It was pure torture for him to turn away. He suddenly didn’t care about whether he might get her with child.

That drew him up short.

He was going to have to remove her and soon. Now he’d seen her naked, seen her desire for him, seen what pleasure she’d offer him, he wouldn’t get another wink of sleep with her under the same roof. He did not have enough self-control.

Melissa was too big of a temptation.

He was weak, he knew it. If Stevens had not interrupted, he would have taken her—here and now and damn the consequences.

With the towel wrapped around her body, she moved, halting at the door, eyeing him warily. “We will continue this conversation later.” Her eyebrows scrunched into an engaging frown. “In fact, as soon as you get in tonight, no matter how late. When next we talk I want some answers.” With her threat she passed through his bedchamber to her own room, quietly shutting the door.

Anthony breathed a sigh of relief.
Coward. All you’ve done is put off the inevitable
. With a guilty start he thought, I’ll not come home tonight. He rubbed himself briskly with the towel until his skin was almost raw. He’d sleep at the club. If Rufus had something to report, it would be a good excuse to avoid being home for a few days.

If he couldn’t think of something to diminish her desire for
him over the next few days, he’d have to confess to deceiving her—tell her about the white marriage. But that might not be enough. If she was this determined to have him in her bed, he would have to do something drastic to kill any feelings she had for him.

What chilled him to his marrow was the fact he cherished her feelings for him. When she looked at him with glowing warmth in her eyes, a tiny piece of his soul didn’t feel so cold.

   Rufus was pacing the study when Anthony entered—his face hard, his features sharp. He swung around and crossed the carpet swiftly, shaking Anthony’s outstretched hand.

“I’m sorry to intrude like this, especially as you are recently married, but I needed to talk with you about Rothsay.” He finally issued a smile. “Rude of me not to ask, I hope married life finds you well?”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “As well as can be expected. Actually, I welcome your intrusion. You’ve just saved me from a particular tricky conversation with my wife.”

“Really? From the look of you, it would appear I’ve called at an inappropriate time. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything—pleasurable?”

Anthony ignored his friend’s salacious inquiry. “Drink?” he nodded his head to the decanter of brandy on his desk.

“Thank you, yes. I can see you’re not in the mood for teasing. Marriage has not improved your temper then?” Rufus sank into the chair on the other side of his desk. Not bothering to wait for an answer, Rufus uttered, “I think I’ve located Rothsay’s base.”

“Where is he?” Anthony demanded, pivoting to face his friend.

“He’s operating out of Great Yarmouth.”

“Yes—Yes. I know that. I’d heard he’d bought a property there. But have you proof of his shipments? Quincy could find nothing.”

“Not exactly,” Rufus answered.

“Then what is so urgent?”

“I came to warn you. Some of Rothsay’s men have been watching your house and more importantly you. I’m not sure, but Rothsay has long held you accountable for his three shipments we intercepted last November. He might be out for revenge.”

Rothsay did hold him responsible. But it went deeper than that. There was no love lost between the two men. “I can look after myself.” Anthony cursed. Melissa. If Rothsay got his hands on her … He refused to think of the consequences. Would his enemy even know he’d gotten married? Of course he would. Rothsay was having the house watched. “I’ll need a guard for Melissa. I want your best man.”

“That’s why I am here. If he got his hands on Melissa, he could ship her off and you’d never find her again.”

Anthony took a sip of brandy to still the panic Rufus’s words invoked. There had to be more to Rothsay’s sudden interest in him. November was months ago; if he was annoyed why wait until now? “Are you sure he doesn’t know about our latest investigation into his white slavery ring?”

Rufus shifted in his seat. “No. We can’t discount that possibility, although only a handful of men know we have him under investigation. I’m hoping his sources are unaware of our recent foray into his activities. However, if he does know, he’ll likely cause trouble.”

“Sources? Damn it. I wondered how he got onto me so quickly last year. This time I’ve only made a few discreet enquiries. At least I know he’s onto us. I shall be prepared. I’ll have to be careful no one follows me.”

“Follows you where? What do you mean to do?”

Anthony frowned. “I’m going to Great Yarmouth.”

“Do you think that wise? The last thing we want is for Rothsay to know we have his ships under observation. If you leave Town now, they will follow. We can protect you—protect Melissa easier in London.”

Anthony sat back in his chair and took a long drink. The fiery liquid took the edge off the tension strumming his body.

“If he means to hurt me or my family, it won’t matter
where I am. Besides, if they believe I have taken my wife to Bressington….” He leaned forward. “Think about it. What could be more natural than for the Earl of Wickham to take his new bride home to the family seat?”

Rufus began nodding his head. “I like it. You can leave Melissa guarded at Bressington while you slip away to scout out his lair.”

“We could also leak out that it is to be the start of our honeymoon.”

This would be perfect. He could escort Melissa to Bressington and then leave her and head to Great Yarmouth. Not only would he finally be close to destroying a man who should have been strangled at birth, he would escape the torment that was Melissa.

Once he’d brought Rothsay down, he could put off being with his wife until he got her completely out of his system. Until he no longer wanted her. Until his passion for her was as dried up as a harvested corn husk.

He would leave Melissa at Bressington, come back to London, find a new mistress, and carry on his life exactly as before.

“It will be harder to watch me at Bressington. I know the countryside so well. I can easily slip away, especially if in disguise.”

Rufus drew a deep breath. “It won’t fool them for long. As soon as they see your wife out and about without you, they’ll be suspicious.”

“She will have to have an escort with her at all times.” He paused. “The man you assign to guard her … can you find someone similar to my height and coloring? We might be able to fool them for quite some time. By then I will be long gone and they won’t know where.”

“What will you tell Melissa?”

Anthony inwardly grimaced. Rufus knew him too well. He would know he’d not like to discuss Rothsay with Melissa. She would ask too many questions. Questions he would be
ashamed to answer, questions that would make her feel nothing but repulsion for him …

But isn’t that exactly what he wanted? Didn’t he crave to push her away? He needed a way to destroy the infatuation she had for a man who didn’t really exist.

“I’ll tell her the truth. Tell her about the man I am.”

Rufus frowned. “The boy you were. The man is nothing like his father.”

“You sound like Richard.”

Rufus leaned forward. “Richard is right. Your father died ten years ago. Stop holding on and let him go.”

If he let go of his hate, who—what—would be left.

T
he trip to Bressington was uneventful. Last night, Melissa had been so excited at the news of their journey, she’d left off interrogating him. They were to leave first thing in the morning for Bressington, and she quickly began to ready the household for the trip. He’d used having to tidy up his affairs as an excuse to remain out of her way for most of the night.

Now she sat next to him in his carriage, her head on his shoulder while she slept. Her abigail, Theresa, also slept. He’d suggested Theresa ride in their carriage to avoid any personal conversations. A few gentle snores from the maid was the only sound keeping him company, as he pondered the inevitable conversation to come.

He grew angry at his sudden feelings of contrition. Bleakly, he realized how angry Melissa would become when he told her the truth. Why had he thought this marriage such a good idea? What an idiot he was! He’d always been ruthless, his upbringing making him susceptible to hasty decisions, but it had never manifested itself with such a permanent consequence as this! He should never have married her. He should have left Melissa to her shame. Paid off her brother’s debts and set her up in a house in the country. His life would have been so much simpler. But he had too much honor.

He glanced down at the woman beside him. Even in her sleep, her striking natural innocence stirred him.

He was a goddammed fool.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she smiled up at him. His heart bloomed and thudded against his ribs. Moments like these almost had him believing his life could be different.

Yes a fool.

He nodded his head toward the window. “You’ll glimpse Bressington when we round the next bend.”

She sat up and leaned toward the window.

The Elizabethan mansion held disturbing memories for Anthony, the ornate estate a perfect foil for the evildoings within.

Sure enough, as they rounded the curved driveway, stretched out before him in taunting splendor, he felt his stomach knot at the sight of his childhood home. The three-story seventeenth-century sandstone manor, with huge forward wings and steep rooftops dotted with chimneys, was as intimidating to him now as it was as a child.

As the carriage coasted around the long circular drive, Melissa turned a beguiling grin to him, her hazel eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It’s beautiful. It looks like a palace with its graceful terraced steps leading up to the front door and the sunlight glistening against hundreds of panes of mullioned glass. You must have loved growing up here.”

He nodded and tried to hide the absolute loathing he felt for the property.

This would be the perfect place to keep Melissa. He hated everything about Bressington. His memories of the house would ensure he was never eager to see his wife.

The butler stood waiting as they drew up. This was going to be embarrassing, Anthony thought as he helped Melissa from the carriage. Anthony couldn’t remember his name. On his father’s death, he’d replaced the butler, but he’d spent so little time here he’d forgotten the man’s name.

“A pleasure to have you home, my lord,” he intoned. At Anthony’s pause he added, “It’s Stubbs, sir.”

“Thank you, Stubbs. Allow me to introduce my wife, the Countess of Wickham.”

Stubbs bowed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, and smiled brightly.

Anthony noticed Stubbs immediately responded to the warmth in her greeting. Stubbs looked surprised—no doubt expecting him to have selected a woman as dour in nature as himself.

Stubbs’s demeanor brightened considerably. “The pleasure is undoubtedly mine, my lady. I hope you shall find all at Bressington to your satisfaction.”

“Oh! I am quite certain I shall. It’s so very lovely, don’t you think, Theresa?”

Theresa beamed her approval at Stubbs. “Yes sir’ee. The house is wondrous.” She swept her arm toward the steps leading down onto a magnificent lawn, pointing on toward the pond. “The children will love playing in the pond over yonder.”

Anthony watched Melissa’s face turn to him and flood with pink. He had no earthly wish to answer that and simply smiled as he glanced over his shoulder at Stubbs.

It had been an age since he’d last visited Bressington. He would likely not know all the staff. “Lead on, Stubbs,” he indicated with his arm.

He watched with growing unease as Stubbs swiftly led her to the row of servants who had filed out to meet them in the late afternoon sun. Melissa spoke with each and every one of the twenty-five staff gathered. Her quiet dignified yet friendly manner had them half in love with her by the time she reached the end of the queue.

Good. As they moved inside he hoped she would be, if not happy, then content at Bressington.

“Show Lady Wickham to her rooms, and perhaps a tour of the house would be in order. It’s a house easy to get lost in.” He should know. He’d found innumerable places to hide when a young boy. The fear of a whipping honed his skills to perfection.

He followed in his wife’s footsteps. Once inside his mood darkened.

“If you will follow me?” Stubbs asked, and gestured toward a huge curving staircase spiraling upward beneath old portraits and coats of armor and one massive crystal chandelier.

Anthony followed them up the first lot of stairs. “I’ll be in my study.” He stopped and watched with chilled inevitability his wife being led to the rooms that would adjoin his.