Passion and Pride (A Historical Romance) (9 page)

His damn honor, perhaps.

His disdain for ‘common’ girls, more likely.

To hell with him then. If he would not deign to touch her because he was a gentleman and she was a servant, Marian had no more use for him.

At least that was the lie she told herself.

During her evening walks, she had noticed the moonlight glinting off water in the distance. After a walk of a mile or so she had discovered a beautiful pond, and had visited it several times since. She loved to listen to the owls among the trees and watch the stars sparkle on its still surface.

When the heat proved too much for her during her workday, she immediately thought of the pond. After wrestling with her sense of duty (for about two minutes), she finally gave in and escaped through the east wing.

Upon reaching the grassy banks, she immediately stripped down to her shift and waded in.

 The water was heavenly. For a moment she debated whether she should wet her hair… but the cool waters decided the matter for her. If anyone made a comment back at the house, she would say she washed her hair in a basin because she could no longer stand the heat.

She plunged beneath the water and entered another world. For a moment she was no longer Marian Willows, poor servant girl, heartbroken and spurned… she was a mermaid, free and wild.

She drifted about in the water, the silt squishing beneath her toes. As the heat began to dry her face, she would dunk beneath the surface again and emerge refreshed.

As she played, she thought sadly of Evan, and wished that she could share this sensual, beautiful world with him. She imagined them lying under the trees on the grassy bank, his skin pressed against hers, slowly peeling the damp cloth from her body…

After twenty minutes, she reluctantly decided she must return to the house. As she waded back to the shore, she cursed her lack of foresight. If she had only brought a towel from the house…

As she walked up to her dress ten feet from the water’s edge, she heard a noise and froze.

Ten yards away, a man emerged from the woods.

He was dressed poorly, his clothes little more than rags on his bony frame. He was unshaven and drenched with sweat. His hair was clumped and greasy, and his long face reminded her unpleasantly of a rat, especially as his beady eyes slowly slithered down her body.

She realized that the wet shift clinging to her skin afforded her no modesty whatsoever. She frantically put one arm across her breasts, and another in front of her loins.

The man’s mouth curled nastily as he walked towards her. “Wot have we here, wot have we here? Charley! C’mere!”

There was more noise from the woods, and another man stumbled into the clearing. He was taller, bald, and dressed even worse. Burlap patches covered ragged holes in his pants and threadbare shirt. The skin on his face was dotted with pimples, and his eyes had the vacant stare of a simpleton.

“Lookit here, Christmas came in June,” the rat-faced man laughed to his companion.

“You need to leave,” she said. Miraculously, her voice managed to stay even and controlled. She sounded far more calm than she felt.

“Oy, we’re not goin’ anywhere, luv,” the rat-faced man sneered. “We’re gonna have ourselves a little party right here, just you, me an’ Charley.”

“You need to leave
right now,
” she said. Unfortunately, her previous composure had deserted her. Her voice was shaking. “My husband is riding in the fields – he’ll be back here any second and he’ll
kill
you if you so much as touch me.”

The rat-faced man looked around. “I don’t see ‘im, love. In fact, I’ve been watchin’ you the last few minutes, and I haven’t seen a soul.”

The idea that these two brutes had been watching her in the water made her –

The water!

If I can only get out far enough –

She began to back slowly towards the pond, trying not to be obvious about what she planned.     

Ratface didn’t seem to notice, but he was still approaching faster than she was retreating. The stench of onions and dirt rolled off him, even from ten feet away. “Besides… even if there is a bloke ridin’ around here, I think we can finish up our business quick enough. What do you say, Charley?”

The other man heehawed like a jackass.

“If you leave now, I won’t say anything to my husband,” Marian quaked, only a few feet from the water now. “If you leave now – ”

“Time fer talkin’s over, luv,” the rat-faced man laughed.

Marian turned and splashed into the pond.

The rat-faced man was quick, though, and leaped in after her. She had only gotten up to her knees when he grabbed her arm and dragged her roughly towards the bank.

She screamed for all she was worth.

They’ll never hear me at the house
.

Even if they do, they’ll be too late.

“Shut yer mouth, bitch,” Ratface snarled as he threw her to the ground.

Suddenly he was on top of her. Marian began to slap at him, her fingernails digging at him, but he straddled her waist and grabbed her by the wrists. Despite his scrawny size, he was strong.

The other one had come over and was watching, his tongue a fat worm as it licked his lips.

Marian screamed again and tried to buck Ratface off her body, to no avail.

“Scream all ya like, luv. I like it when they scream,” he grinned.

Suddenly there was the sound of horses’ hooves thundering over the ground. Ratface looked up, alarmed.

A black steed came storming into the clearing and reared up in front of the simpleton, who shrieked in terror.

“GET OFF HER!” Evan Blake’s voice ripped through the air.

The two men took off like jackrabbits, not even bothering to put up a fight. They tore into the underbrush and were gone before Evan’s boots even hit the ground.

His face was angry as the devil himself. He looked as though he might give chase and murder the two with his bare hands, but then he looked over at Marian and the two miscreants were forgotten. He rushed to her side, kneeled, and took her in his arms.

“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” he asked, his face suddenly soft and kind and worried.

She looked up into his eyes, shook her head ‘no,’ and burst into tears.

He put his arms around her and held her tight as she sobbed.

“It’s all right,” he whispered to her. “It’s all right, they’re gone.”

She cried and clutched the strong arms encircling her. She felt safe, completely sure that no harm could come to her now.

He held her, his cheek to the top of her head, until finally her tears were spent.

She did not want to let go of him – in fact, she would have stayed there like that for hours, with his muscular body pressed against hers – but she wanted to see his face. She leaned back and looked up into his eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Are you sure you’re all right? They did not hurt you in any way?”

She shook her head. “Just frightened me terribly. You saved me in the nick of time.”

He smoothed the wet strands away from her forehead and kissed her skin. “Thank God for that.”

The touch of his lips on her brow was electric. A warmth flooded into her that completely displaced the fear.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

She could have, but she wanted to stay there pressed against him a little longer.

“I feel a little faint,” she lied.

“I’ll carry you, then,” he said, and before she could protest, he scooped her up in his powerful arms and lifted her into the air. He carried her as easily as he would a child’s plaything.

A thrill ran through her. She could feel the bulge of his muscles like never before, the girth of his arms, the firm swell of his magnificent chest. She timidly put her arms around his neck.

“I don’t think I can ride,” she lied again.

“Then I’ll carry you back to the house.”

“All the way?!”

He looked at her with amusement. “Until you can walk. Why, is that a problem?”

As much as she would have enjoyed being cradled against his body for the next fifteen minutes, she knew she could not go back to the house like this – wet as a dunked cat, carried in the arms of the eldest son of the manor.

“I can’t – my dress! I need my dress.”

His eyes darted down to the swell of her breasts. She knew immediately that the wet cloth allowed him to see
everything
…because his cheeks flushed red. His gaze immediately shot back up to her eyes and did not waver.

Another burst of heat coursed through her body, and she blushed herself.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” he stammered, and gently set her down on the grass next to her clothes. “Can you stand?”

“Just a minute more,” she said – not quite a lie, at least, since she didn’t answer the question. She was enjoying the feeling of his body too much to relinquish the sensation quite yet.

Especially since, judging from what had happened in the garden two weeks ago, she might never feel it again.

He nodded and kept his arms supporting her back. She could tell he was fighting the urge to look at her body again.

Her heart throbbed harder.

“How did you happen to reach me so fast?” she asked out of curiosity.

The red in his cheeks deepened, and he did not answer at first. When he did, his words were halting.

“I… I have to beg your pardon.”

“Why? Whatever for?”

“I… I rode down to the pond in order to swim… to get away from the heat… Andrew and I used to do that as boys… and… and you were already there.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “You saw me bathing?”

He swallowed hard. “Only for a second. I thought it was children from the village, perhaps, but as soon as I saw it was you, I turned and walked back to my horse. I had ridden perhaps a few hundred yards when I heard you scream.”

Unlike when her attacker said he had watched her – which had made her feel violated and disgusted – Evan’s admission caused her to shiver with pleasure.

“You did not see the other two men?”

“No, I didn’t.” His face suddenly clouded over with anger. “If I had, I would have immediately called out to you to hide and then dealt them a beating they would have never forgotten. In fact, I should go to the village and try to find out who they were – they deserve to be hanged.”

She peered hard into his eyes, and her voice lowered. “Did you turn around immediately as soon as you saw me… or did you watch for a short time?”

His mouth quivered, and she could see the struggle in his face not to look at her body again. “I… I must confess… I did not turn away as soon as I should have.”

She allowed the faintest smile to turn up the corner of her lips. “That was very naughty of you,” she whispered, her heart beating fast in her chest.

His face was scarlet. His lips twitched, but no sound came out as he stared into her eyes.

“But since you rescued me… I forgive you,” she murmured, and leaned forward.

She had meant to kiss his cheek. She had been overly forward with him before, and he had not reacted the way she wanted. So though she desperately wanted to kiss him again as she had in the garden that night, she decided she would keep this instance as chaste as possible.

But he moved his face the slightest, and instead of his cheek, her mouth touched the corner of his soft, sensual lips.

She drew back in surprise and stared at him.

He stared back.

And then he leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth.

She closed her eyes and drank him in. His taste was different than before, a sweetness that had been disguised by the wine, mixed with the salt from his sweat.

His mouth pressed firmer against hers, his skin sliding sensuously over hers, as his tongue gently parted her lips and sought to softly penetrate her. She drew him in and felt him enter her, and she could barely contain the pleasure that coursed through her body.

The blood was rushing in her head. She was glad that he still held her in his arms – not just because the pressure of his body excited her, but because that kiss left her so weak that she might have collapsed otherwise.

Then he broke off the kiss, and slowly let her body droop until she was lying fully on the grass.

Panic began to rise in her.
No! Don’t stop!
she wailed silently.

Her prayers were answered.

His eyes never left her face as he gently lay down beside her, his body pressed against her side, and leaned in again for another kiss.

This time he was more urgent. Passion seemed to flow out of him and into her, and the heat of his lips on her skin was feverish and intense as he penetrated her once again, his soft tongue ravishing her own.

She could feel the weight of his body against her, and she wanted badly to feel it fully atop her.

Between her legs she could feel a wetness that had nothing to do with her damp clothes.

She ran her hands over his neck, across his muscular chest, around his side and clutched at his broad, strong back.

He lowered his head, kissing from her chin to her throat, then licked his tongue softly but firmly down past her collarbones until he was stopped by the collar of her shift.

He pulled back, and again the panic welled inside her.

Please, for the love of God, don’t stop!

Once again her prayers were answered.

He took her cotton undergarment in both hands. With a ferocity that both thrilled and frightened her the tiniest bit, he tore it apart from the collar to her belly.

Then lowered his mouth, cupped her left breast in his hand, and sucked greedily at her nipple.

Desire flooded through her in a wave, and she moaned. He moved to her other breast, and lightly circled the stiff nipple with his velvety tongue.

Her thighs throbbed with an aching heat.

She clutched at his shirt and tugged at it. He grinned and helped her pull it over his head so that his entire upper body was exposed.

She took in every detail of him – the vibrant skin, the sculpted muscles, the light thatch of dark hair across his chest, the firm, flat stomach –

And her eyes traveled lower to the front of his pants, where a very sizable bulge pressed against the cloth.