Samantha James (22 page)

The lake
. Her heart began to thud with thick, painful strokes. “No,” Cassie said faintly. “I didn’t know.”

Evelyn’s brow knitted as she sought to remember. “I believe she was quite alone, though. She
had a little craft she often took out—but one summer day they found the craft floating in the middle of the lake.” She paused. “Her body was found several days later.”

Cassie fought a lightheaded sensation that made it difficult to breathe. “Good Lord.” Her voice was half-stifled. “Do not tell me that she…that she—”

“Yes,” Evelyn said quietly. “She drowned.”

T
hough she tried to disguise it, Cassie’s mood was troubled as she left Warrenton. It made her shudder to think how Caroline Sinclair had died. At the same time, an elusive hurt tugged at her heart. Why hadn’t Gabriel told her his mother had drowned? That he offered to share so little of himself made her ache inside.

Foolish girl
, chided a silent voice.
He is well acquainted with your deathly fear of water…Perhaps he wished to spare you
.

But there was little point in dwelling on it, she realized. Regardless of his reasons, she would say nothing, for such memories of his mother were best left undisturbed.

The soft line of her mouth pressed together as she ducked a low-hanging branch. Thoughts of Gabriel inevitably turned to his father…She dreaded returning to Farleigh, for she fully expected to face Edmund’s wrath. For whatever reason he had chosen to hold his tongue while she had so busily engaged hers, she was certain that such restraint would not last long.

It was then she felt it…a sensation so strong, the hair on the back of her neck prickled…as if secret eyes watched…and waited…

She was not far from the gazebo, she noted with a shiver. Lovely as it was, Cassie had not returned there since that awful day she and Gabriel had been shot at.

She reined Ariel to a halt and called out sharply. “Who’s there?”

There was no answer. All around her, the ground lay brushed with orange-gold leaves. Dappled sunlight poured through twisting tree branches. Though the autumn day was clear and sunny, a shaft of icy terror constricted her breath.

She dug her heels into Ariel’s flanks, nearly losing her seat as the mare leaped forward. Bending low, she clung to her mane all the way back to Farleigh. She was still rather shaken when she slipped off the saddle and handed the reins to a groom.

It was then she noted Edmund’s black and gold carriage was gone. Encountering Mrs. McGee in the entrance hall, Cassie waylaid her.

“Will His Grace be returning soon?”

“He’s gone to his house in Bath, milady. I gather he plans to stay for at least a month.” Mrs. McGee shrugged, then smiled. “A bit sudden, his decision to leave. But then he usually spends this time of year in Bath.”

Cassie bit her lip. She harbored no illusions. The duke had left because of her—and Gabriel. Though she was vastly relieved that she need not face him so soon again after her outburst, all at once she was beset by a niggling feeling of shame.

At dinner she felt woefully alone sitting at the immense dining table by herself.

She was exhausted by the time she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber. Long after she had dismissed Gloria, she paced the length of her room, her ears straining for some sound that Gabriel had returned from London. It was long after midnight when exhaustion gave way to despair, and then a weary resignation; finally she slipped beneath the counterpane.

But too much had happened that day for rest to come easily. Her sleep was fitful and restless…

She was back in the woods again, only this time without Ariel. She was running. Alone. Desperate. Her heart pounding in sheer terror
.

An air of menace hung dark and thick, like heavy fog. Phantom shadows darted all around, pursuing her, faster and faster. Frantic to evade them, she ran faster. Branches whipped her face, stinging her cheeks. Her muscles burned. She stumbled and fell
.

All at once the lake was there, its turquoise waters pristine and serene. She could see herself, as if she were floating outside of her body. She was standing on the dock, her expression one of stricken horror. Even as she tried to cry out a warning, a hand came out and pushed…

Then she was back in her body again. Icy water closed over her head. She gasped, straining to breathe, to survive. Surrounded by a dark, murky underworld, she clawed for the surface. But something was dragging her, pulling her down, ever down…She tried to scream. Water filled her mouth, choking her, scalding her lungs. How odd, she thought. For she could hear herself scream, a shrill of pure terror…

“Cassie! Open your eyes. It’s just a dream, sweet, just a dream.”

The command penetrated her haze of consciousness. Her eyes opened. The golden glow of a candle lit the darkness. Gabriel’s face, grim and unrelenting, swam above her. His arms were strong and hard about her back. With a moan, she sagged against him, curling her fingers in the front of his shirt. She inhaled deeply, a long, ragged breath; he smelled of crisp, starched linen, and he felt so good, all warm, heated strength.

“I did not know you were back,” she whispered after a moment.

“I’ve only just arrived. You scared the devil out of me—I thought some madman was in here with you.” Warm fingers traced soothingly up and down her spine. “What were you dreaming of?”

She suppressed a shudder. She could not tell him. All at once she felt silly and childish. “’Tis nothing.” She raised her head and tried to pass it off with a tremulous smile. “I was at Warrenton this afternoon, and when I rode back, I had the strangest sensation that someone was watching me—”

“You were alone?”

She frowned, for she had felt the brittleness that invaded his hold. “Yes,” she whispered into his shoulder.

With a muttered imprecation he drew back. He stared down at her, his mouth a tight white line. “Dammit, Cassie, I don’t want you out riding without a groom. I thought I made myself clear.”

Her smile wavered. He was tense, so very tense…“Evelyn does not ride with a groom.”

“Evelyn has not had a precipitous number of so-called accidents of late.”

Cassie’s breath stilled, along with the beat of her heart. An eerie foreboding trickled along her spine. She searched his face. “You do not think they were accidents?”

Gabriel cursed himself roundly. He had said too much—revealed too much—while knowing far too little. Still, perhaps this was best.

“In all likelihood they were, both the shooting and the attack in London.” He did not want to alarm her, yet perhaps now she would take more caution. “I hired an investigator to try to find the man who accosted you. I met with him this afternoon in London. Unfortunately, the rogue has slipped from our grasp.”

“I thought you were convinced he was just a footpad.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt. Nevertheless, I wish the man caught.” He paused. “Cassie, I do not want to frighten you needlessly. But I want you to think. Is there anyone back in Charleston who might wish you harm? Someone connected with your family, perhaps.”

She hesitated. “I told you before, there’s no one. My father, whoever he is, does not even know I exist.” The briefest spasm of pain passed over her face. “And I doubt my mother remembers.” She shook her head, then murmured, “I’m afraid the only person I know of who might wish me ill is your father.”

Gabriel’s regard sharpened. Cassie bit her lip, obviously disconcerted. “Your father left for Bath this afternoon.”

“Bath! But I saw his calendar only this morning. He had no such plans.”

“I know.” Cassie’s eyes avoided his. “I’m afraid I am responsible.”

“You?” His short laugh affirmed his disbelief. “Yank, I doubt there is a soul on this earth who could make my father do something he did not wish to.”

She hesitated, yet she knew she had no choice but to come out with the truth. “I heard the two of you this morning,” she said quietly. “I heard the terrible things he said to you. I was furious—furious that he could be so callous. And I fear I simply could not help myself…I gave him quite a dressing down.”

“I see.” The muscles of his face seemed to freeze. He put her from him. Cassie felt cold and bereft.

And he was angry. She could see it in the set of his jaw, as inflexible as iron.

“You need not defend me, Yank. I assure you, I am quite capable of fighting my own battles.”

He had retreated from her, wholly and utterly, in spirit and in body. How could he be so warm and comforting one minute, so cold and patronizing the next? Hurt and outrage brought her chin high.

“Let us not mince words, my lord.” The coolness of her tone matched his. “Do you mean to say I have no right to intrude in your life?”

“Why, Yank,” he paused, his smile flashing white against his dark features, “it seems we understand each other perfectly.”

Small hands fisted at her sides, Cassie rose to her feet. A curious tightness settled around her heart.

“Oh, yes, I understand, Gabriel. I understand all that you do not. Oh, but you are so very much your
father’s son, just as blind and stubborn! You think yourself so much above him, don’t you? You judge him for his mistakes. You despise your father for neglecting your mother, for doing to her…what you would do to me…and for what, I ask? To spite him, to punish him! Oh, but you are no different than your father—no
better
than him.”

She spun around and strode to the connecting door between their rooms. “I will thank you to leave me alone.” Her tone was as cutting as her glare.

Gabriel’s eyes flickered. He did not move a muscle.

By now Cassie was too incensed to be afraid. A scalding rush of anger poured through her. “Didn’t you hear me? Get out.” She stamped her foot. “Get out!”

A dangerous half-smile curled his lips. He faced her, his booted feet braced wide apart, his thumbs hooked into his breechess, revealing his jade embroidered waistcoat; his posture was one of unswerving masculinity despite his handsome elegance.

“I think not, madam,” was all he said. But deep inside he was bitterly stung that she compared him to his father—his father! And he dared not give in to the rage that simmered just beneath the surface.

Slowly his gaze raked over her, trespassing at will. The candle behind her caught her in its glow—and rendered the frail covering of lawn she wore useless. The shape of her body was clearly discernible. Her breasts were soft and full, her nipples dark, pink enticements,
the down fuzz of her womanhood a deeper shadow.

And now a fire of a different sort had kindled.

Cassie realized too late the vulnerability rendered by her state of undress. She recognized the glitter in his eyes only too well. Her fingers curled more tightly around the doorknob as he began to close the distance between them. Though she clung to it with all her strength, the knob was wrenched from her grasp as he thrust the door shut with the heel of his hand.

Sparks of rebellion burst inside her. “Damn you!” she swore. “You will not lay a hand on me!”

There was the sound of husky, masculine laughter. “Oh, but I will, sweet. I daresay you will know much more than just the touch of my hand tonight.”

She drew herself up proudly, for now he blocked her way. “I will not!” she cried. “You cannot keep me at arm’s length and expect submission whenever the whim strikes you.”

He took a step forward. Cassie paled, retreating in tandem as he advanced. But soon he had her backed against the door.

His forearms came up on either side of her body, effectively pinning her in place. Panic engulfed her. He was so close her breasts brushed his shirt with every breath.

His fury was ill-disguised; it glimmered in his eyes like quicksilver. “You are wrong, Yank, for there is a very great difference between my father and I indeed. I used to marvel that I was ever born, for he felt nothing for my mother, not even a man’s passion for a woman. And I must confess, sweet,
you have only to come near and my body reminds me quite insistently of my desire for you.”

“Desire?” Inwardly she trembled; outwardly she scoffed. “I know what drives you. You’ve been stuck here in the country with me—and without your mistress. So go back to London—back to the welcoming arms of your mistress!”

“My mistress!”

“Yes! Lady Sarah, I believe.”

“I’ve not seen her in weeks, Yank. Nor did I wish to. Besides, what need have I of her when I find such welcome in
your
arms?”

“You’ll find no such welcome again!” She shoved at his chest. He merely leaned closer, barring any further movement on her part with the pressure of his body.

“It is pointless to resist me, Yank. We both know that.”

“Oh!” she cried. “So now you tout your charms? Do you think I am a fool that I find you so irresistible? If that’s what you think, perhaps it’s you who are the fool!”

“Perhaps I am,” he said, his voice low and intense. “And I do not ‘tout my charms,’ as you choose to put it. Indeed, Yank, ’tis you who charm me, you who bewitched me the moment I set eyes on you, you who are irresistible. You stir me past bearing. Beyond all reason…beyond endurance.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips to the place where her neck sloped into her shoulder. The touch of his lips went through her like a bolt of lightning. “And it’s not submission I want. I want you naked and twisting and eager in my arms as you were last night.”

Oh, but he was a wretch to remind her! His words shattered her composure like broken crystal. All at once she was quivering. No, not with fear, or even anger, but with the intoxicating effect of his nearness.

But when she would have argued, his mouth, demanding and devouring, captured hers. Her gown was swept from her shoulders. His hands came out to play with the tips of her breasts. A shock of sensation curled deep in her belly.

Caught in a maze of conflicting emotions, her hands clenched and unclenched against his chest. Her fingertips were achingly sensitized; she could feel the raspiness of his body hair beneath the fabric of his shirt. A wave of longing swept her in its tide. She yearned to tug aside the barrier of his shirt, to feel the intimate slide of skin against skin. And when he did exactly that, tearing off his jacket, ripping his shirt over his head and burying her nipples in the furred darkness on his chest, she thought she would die of sheer bliss. She had to fight from wrapping her arms around his neck in reckless surrender.

Only the tangle of heart and mind and body stopped her. She wanted him desperately, yet knowing he thought so little of her hurt unbearably!

Somehow she managed to tear her mouth free. “Gabriel, please.” Her plea was a ragged cry. “You do this only because I dared to defy you.”