Pursued By The Viscount (14 page)

“And you and Brooketon?”

“We hardly know each other.” She shrugged. “A physical attraction cannot last.”

“Is that all it is?”

“On Brooketon’s part, certainly.”

“And your own?”

She sighed. “At the moment, I cannot think beyond having William safely returned to me.”

“Of course not,” Thea acknowledged briskly. “That was insensitive of me.”

“When do you think we might hear from the men again?”

“First they have to travel to Dover, or they may possibly catch up with Stanforth along the way. He cannot be that far ahead, and I am sure Blackmoor will have insisted on using his own coach and four. Once they have located Stanforth and William, then… I am sure Blackmoor will send word some time tomorrow,” Thea comforted as Rachel felt herself becoming more and more despondent.

How could she possibly survive until tomorrow merely to hear word, let alone for William’s safe return?

What other choice did she have but to wait and survive?

“I cannot sit here doing nothing,” she announced as she straightened decisively. “I appreciate you cannot travel far in your condition, Thea, but I have to go to Dover too.”

“At night and in the dark?” The other woman gave an alarmed glance out the window, where darkness shrouded the garden. “It is too dangerous, Rachel. At least wait until the morning.”

“No.” Having made the decision, she was now determined to leave as soon as her carriage could be made ready to travel.

“Brooketon will not approve.”

“Brooketon will understand one day when he has children of his own.” Rachel felt as if the heavy weight in her chest had lifted a little at this decisive action. “If I travel through the night, I may even catch up with the men before they reach Dover, and we can confront Stanforth together.”

And she could have her darling William back in her arms once again.

Chapter 13

“You have a visitor, Brooke.”

Lucien forced open one eye to glare up at Blackmoor. The other man stood beside his bed in what could only be described as a second-rate inn near the seaport of Dover.

They had arrived in the early hours of the morning, having changed horses twice during the journey so as to arrive as quickly as possible. Finding Stanforth’s yacht still moored in the harbor, and as yet unmanned, Blackmoor had left one of his grooms to keep watch, with instructions to inform them at the inn immediately if the other man made an appearance.

The aches and pains in Lucien’s body as he pulled himself up to sit back against the pillows told him the hours of jarring coach travel on top of a morning in bed with Rachel had taken their toll. “Stanforth?”

“He would hardly be paying you a visit,” Blackmoor drawled. “You may come in now, Lady Shaw,” he called out, but kept his gaze firmly fixed on Lucien. “Evans informed her of our whereabouts when she arrived at the harbor.”

Rachel here? But how?

“Her stubbornness and determination are only two of the reasons you want her,” Blackmoor murmured so that only Lucien could hear.

Lucien’s frowning gaze fixed on the woman now standing in the doorway of the bedchamber. Rachel. Looking slightly the worse for wear, after no doubt traveling through the night to get here. Her hair was slightly bedraggled, her face pale and drawn, in all likelihood from both worry and lack of sleep. But it was most definitely Rachel.

“They might be two of the reasons I want her,” he answered loudly enough that Rachel could hear his answer too. “But that does not mean she is not deserving of a sound spanking as a result of this latest misdemeanor.”

“I believe that is my cue to go down and finish my breakfast,” Blackmoor announced dryly. “Do both join me when you have…settled the matter. To the satisfaction of both of you, it is to be hoped.” He gave Rachel a formal bow as she moved aside to allow him to leave the bedchamber, stepping out into the hallway to close the door.

Leaving a resounding and tense silence behind him.

A silence Rachel eventually broke. “I could not sit in London and do nothing.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed as she lifted her chin with the same defiance as she had spoken. “When I am finished with you, I guarantee you will not be able to
sit
anywhere! What on earth did you think you were about, doing something so dangerous as to travel here through the night?” He threw back the bedcovers, totally unconcerned with his own nakedness as he stood. There was no reason for him to be when this woman knew every inch of him intimately.

Even so, Rachel quickly averted her gaze. She might have seen Lucien completely naked in her bedchamber as recently as yesterday, but that did not mean she was comfortable doing the same in the bedchamber of a public inn. It seemed especially shocking when she was completely dressed in her bonnet, traveling gown, and cloak.

Nor did she intend Lucien to know how treacherous her journey to Dover in the darkness of night had really been. So much so, her nervous coachman had suggested stopping for the night on both occasions they had changed the horses. A suggestion Rachel had both times refused. But it had been a long and uncomfortable journey, and she was exhausted from worry over William and the constant jolting of the carriage.

“Blackmoor’s groom informed me that Stanforth has not yet reached Dover?” She opted for a safer subject than Lucien’s obvious displeasure at her actions.

“We are not discussing Stanforth.” Lucien crossed the room with the silent stealth of a predator stalking its prey, his cock semihard between his legs.

“But—”

“The matter is well in hand, and the groom will inform us the minute he arrives in Dover,” Lucien dismissed. “Did you travel here alone?”

“I— It was—” Rachel could not think clearly with Lucien standing naked mere inches away, his cock becoming longer and thicker by the second. In arousal or anger? “Could you put some clothes on?” She winced her discomfort.

“No.” Lucien scowled at her. “I asked if you traveled alone?”

Rachel stepped toward the window, only to come to an abrupt halt as Lucien wrapped an implacable hand about her wrist.

“
Did you travel to Dover alone?
”

“Thea could not come with me because she is— Damn, I should have offered Blackmoor my congratulations.” She frowned at the oversight. “It is not safe for Thea to travel so far in her delicate condition.”

“Your maid?”

“You did not bring your valet with you,” she came back defensively.

“I left in too much of a hurry to do so.”

“As did I.” She attempted to free her wrist, to no avail. Lucien’s fingers tightened rather than loosened their grip. “I am not expecting to stay long in Dover. Will hopefully be on my way back to London with William no later than this afternoon.”

“You are avoiding answering my question directly, madam!” Lucien spoke through gritted teeth and clenched jaw. “Or perhaps your avoidance of a reply is the answer?”

“Because, as I told you from the beginning, I will not be
answerable
to you or any man!” Rachel’s own anger rose to meet his. “I am grateful to both you and Blackmoor for aiding me in this way. But our own previous intimacy… It does not give you the right to decide or dictate any of my own actions.”

Lucien released her wrist as if stung by the touch.

Rachel’s anger faded as quickly as it had risen. “Lucien—”

“You are quite correct.” He nodded stiffly as he turned to sit on the side of the bed and pull on his pantaloons, his expression that of the grimly forbidding man she had initially visited at his home to ask for his assistance. “I suggest you go downstairs and join Blackmoor for breakfast while I finish dressing.”

Rachel took that for the cold dismissal it was obviously meant to be, and quietly left the bedchamber.

She was thoroughly miserable as the landlord of the inn showed her into the private parlor where Blackmoor was eating his breakfast. She did not know Blackmoor very well, but Thea adored him, which was recommendation enough. Besides which, he had left his pregnant wife in London in order to assist Rachel.
 

“Ah.” He put aside the newspaper he had been reading to look at her questioningly as he began to rise.

“Please, do not get up,” Rachel insisted as she removed her bonnet and cloak before sitting down at the table to pour herself a cup of tea from the pot.

“Brooke is not in a forgiving mood?”

Rachel sighed deeply. “Lucien is currently too displeased with me to listen to reason. He says he will join us shortly.” She took a sip of the reviving brew. “Thea was in good health when I left London.”

Blackmoor’s austere features softened at the mention of his wife. “She has told you our good news?”

“I am so happy for you both.”

He nodded, pausing for several seconds before speaking. “Do you know anything of Brooke’s family?”

Rachel frowned at the abrupt change of subject. “You are referring to his parents, the Earl and Countess of Stonewell?”

The duke nodded. “The countess’s behavior has always been…less than discreet. It has caused Brooke much embarrassment over the years.”

She carefully replaced her cup on the saucer. “Are you saying my having traveled alone to Dover has somehow also caused him embarrassment?” She had heard the gossip in Society over the years of the Countess of Stonewell’s many lovers. She could only imagine the awkwardness and distress that would have caused her husband and son.

“Not at all,” Blackmoor assured. “I am merely pointing out that his parents’ marriage has made him…wary of emotional entanglements. When it comes to those he cares about, he is apt to react first and ask questions later.”

Warmth entered her cheeks. “As I do not consider myself an emotional entanglement to Lucien, I fail to see how that is relevant to me.”

“No?” The duke eyed her quizzically. “Then I am wrong in having assumed you care for him?”

Rachel felt discomforted by this conversation. “I am grateful to him for the assistance he has offered in regard to Stanforth.”

“Nothing more?”

Rachel was as leery as Brooketon in facing her own emotions. Not for the same reason, of course, but she was distrustful of her physical response to Lucien. Nor had she had the time or the wits since learning of William’s kidnapping to know whether that response also included love.

“There is nothing more than friendship between Brooketon and myself.” She avoided answering the question directly. If, or when, she acknowledged her feelings toward Lucien as being love, then surely he should be the first to hear of it. Or not, considering his avoidance of the emotion.

“Indeed.” Brooketon stepped into the parlor, impeccably groomed and dressed, despite his lack of a valet.

Rachel frowned as she realized he now appeared every inch the arrogant and unapproachable Lucien Brooke, Viscount Brooketon, as he looked down his aristocratic nose at her.

An indication even their tenuous affair was over?

Lucien’s impeccable appearance made her aware of how disheveled her own must appear to these two gentlemen. Her blue traveling gown was creased from the long hours of sitting inside her carriage. Her hair needed to be taken down and brushed before restyling. No doubt her face was also pale from worry and lack of sleep. “I—”

“You have news, Evans?” Blackmoor prompted sharply, his gaze on the man hovering in the doorway behind Lucien.

“Sir Nigel Stanforth has arrived, Your Grace, and his yacht is being prepared for sea.” The groom Rachel had spoken to at the docks earlier gave her an apologetic glance before adding, “There is a small fair-haired boy with him.”

William.

Oh dear God, William was here!

Black spots appeared in front of Rachel’s eyes, and she felt herself begin to sway as those spots became a single black hole through which she could not prevent herself from tumbling.

“Lie still,” Lucien instructed harshly as Rachel roused from her faint and instantly attempted to sit up on the bench seat in the parlor. He had carried her there only seconds ago, after preventing her from falling to the hard wooden floor. “I have instructed the landlord to bring some brandy to help revive you.”

She pushed against the restraining hand he had placed against her shoulders. “I need to go to William—”

“Blackmoor and his two grooms have already gone to the docks.” Lucien straightened. “We will follow as soon as you are able to stand without falling again.”

She swung her legs to the floor. “I want to go now.”

“It will not do William any good to see you in your current state.” Lucien scowled his displeasure. Not with Rachel, per
se—she could not help having fainted at hearing news of her son—but with the impatience he felt at not being the one to go to the docks to confront Stanforth and rescue William for her.

Someone had to remain here with Rachel until she recovered. Blackmoor had left the inn with his two grooms before Lucien had even placed the unconscious Rachel down on the bench seat and so left Lucien with no choice but to be the one who remained behind.

The darkness of her eyes flashed as she stood up. “I said I want to go now.”