The Husband Hunt (16 page)

He glanced up with a start, eyes wide when she rushed inside and slammed the door, and Lisa paused briefly, her own eyes going wide. Then she rushed across the room with a muttered, “Sorry,” and hurried out into the hall, headed upstairs to her own room.

Chapter Thirteen

“A
re you sure you don’t want to come tonight?” Christiana asked, eyeing Lisa with concern.

“Positive,” Lisa assured her, avoiding her eyes.

Actually, part of her did want to go, the part that wanted to avoid any chance of being forced to speak to Robert. However, another part, the part that also wanted to avoid having to dance with and possibly be proposed to by Lord Findlay, definitely didn’t want to go. She was basically stuck between a rock and a hard place at the moment. Avoiding two men.

Unfortunately, while Lisa could avoid Findlay by staying home, Robert was going to be a bit trickier. She could stay in her room of course, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t come harass her here. He had knocked at her door three times already since she’d charged up here after their tumble in the stables. She’d refused to speak to him each time, and there had been little he could do but leave her alone with Richard and Christiana in the house. She suspected, however, that he wouldn’t be quite as accommodating without them here.

“Very well,” Christiana said finally, and turned to walk to the door, but paused there to ask, “Is there any message for Lord Findlay? He’s sure to ask where you are.”

“No,” Lisa said on a sigh. “Just say I was not feeling well. Better yet, say getting caught in the rain has given me a cough or something.”

Nodding, Christiana turned away and slid from the room.

The moment she was gone, Lisa turned and paced to her window to look out, her mind seeking some way to avoid Robert. He would come, she was sure. Probably the minute Christiana and Richard had left and the last thing she wanted was another argument with him. Her resistance to the man was pretty much completely absent at this point. The idea of marrying and enjoying the pleasure he stirred in her for the rest of her life was tempting. It was the time in between such sessions that worried her. The days of silent suspicion and accusation.

Lisa knew she couldn’t bear that. Perhaps she should just head home to Madison, she thought suddenly. She could not marry anyone now. Men wanted their wives to be pure on their wedding nights, not slightly used and possibly expecting. The thought made her grimace. There was now twice the chance that she may be carrying Robert’s child. She didn’t want to make it thrice. But if she stayed here, Lisa had absolutely no doubt that it would happen again.

Good Lord, her body was already hungry again for more. Now that her body had experienced the pleasure to be had, it was insatiable. Turning abruptly, she glanced to Bet.

“Unless you want to be trapped up here all night with me, I suggest that you leave now,” she said and then turned to grab the chair by her window and began to drag it toward the door.

Bet’s eyes widened and then she headed for the door. “I’ll be downstairs if ye need me.”

“I won’t need you until morning,” Lisa assured her and waited for her to slip out before jamming the chair firmly under the doorknob. Satisfied that she had done what she could, Lisa then turned and paced back to the window. She hadn’t been there more than a moment when a knock sounded at the door.

“Go away, Robert,” she said firmly.

“We need to talk, Lisa,” he said just as firmly.

“I don’t want to,” was her response.

A moment of silence followed and then the doorknob twisted, but the chair held it closed. There was a heavy silence and then Robert growled, “Have you locked the door?”

“No. I jammed a chair under it,” she announced. “I am not speaking to you, Robert. Just go away.”

Lisa waited a moment, almost holding her breath, but when no response came, she moved cautiously to the door and listened. However, she couldn’t hear anything and couldn’t tell if he was still out there or not.

Frowning, Lisa turned away and peered around the room. She then paced restlessly toward the window only to stop halfway there and swing back impatiently toward her bed. She would not spend the next five hours pacing around like a caged animal. It would drive her crazy. She needed to sleep, or read, or something.

Thinking would be good too, Lisa acknowledged, but she had been trying to do that ever since returning. However, rather than think about what to do, her mind seemed fixed on Robert and all the delightful things he had done to her today and yesterday. That was the last thing she wanted to do now when Richard and Christiana were not here to prevent her from repeating her folly yet again.

Sighing, Lisa quickly removed her gown and set it across the foot of the bed, then moved to her chest to find a nightgown. The first thing she saw, of course, was the see-through gown of Mrs. Morgan’s. Lisa sighed as she peered at it where it lay folded and resting on top of the clothes in the chest. She would have to tell Bet to burn the damned thing, she thought, but couldn’t resist reaching out to caress it as her mind flooded with memories.

Shaking her head to try to remove the images filling it, Lisa grabbed a white nightgown and straightened, then whirled with a gasp as her window burst open with a crash.

“Robert?” she said with amazement as he swung himself into the room. “What the devil?”

“We shall have to put a better lock on that window,” he said calmly, pushing the two sides closed, but not bothering to try to relatch it. It was dangling and definitely broken. Turning back, he added, “And it was incredibly foolish of you to jam the door with the chair. If your hooded man returned, I wouldn’t have been able to get in to help you.”

“I was more concerned about keeping you out than anything else,” she said dryly.

“Yes, well . . .” He grimaced. “That didn’t work very well.”

She rolled her eyes at the ridiculously obvious claim and then stilled as she saw a small dark stain on his shirt. Biting her lip, she asked shakily, “Is that blood?”

Robert glanced down at the spot, and then to her and quickly covered the spot with one hand. “No. I must have got some sap on me or something when I climbed up here.”

Lisa frowned, not sure she believed him, but wanting to. She really didn’t handle blood well. “You shouldn’t be climbing about in trees, my lord. You’ll reopen your wound.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, moving toward the door. “I’ll just go change my shirt.” He removed the chair and then glared at her. “Do not replace the chair. I will just climb through your window again if you do.”

Lisa grimaced, but gave a short, sharp nod of assent.

Letting his breath out on a sigh, he nodded and turned to the door, but then paused and asked, “Where is Bet?”

“Downstairs, why?”

“I have some mending I am hoping she will help me with,” he muttered and slid out of the room.

Lisa stared at the closed door for a moment and then hurried to open it and rush out into the hall . . . and nearly ran over Robert, who had stopped to undo his shirt and pull the bandaging away to examine his wound.

Probably checking to see just how much damage he’d done, she thought and immediately averted her eyes. “Go to your room. I’ll send Bet to sew you back up.”

“No, that’s all right. I didn’t burst my stitches. I just pulled one a bit. I’m going to clean it up and rebandage it,” he said, releasing the bandage. “Don’t bother Bet.”

“You can’t rebandage yourself, Robert. Let me—”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted, and turned to head into his room.

Lisa instinctively started to follow, but paused when she saw Bet appear at the top of the stairs. Concerned by her alarmed expression, Lisa moved to meet her. “Is something wrong?”

“Aye,” Bet murmured. “I thought I’d best warn ye. I heard Handers mention to Cook that he saw Lord Langley go outside and I thought it odd since he’s so determined to watch out for ye. But then it occurred to me he might try climbing the tree to come in yer window.”

Lisa nodded wryly. “Yes, you were right. He did, and now he’s pulled his stitches. Can you fetch some salve and . . .” she let the last of the request die away. Bet had already turned with a nod and hurried back up the hall to go after what she needed.

With nothing else to do, Lisa moved to the door of Robert’s room and peered cautiously inside. She spotted him at once. He was seated on the opposite side of the bed with his back to her. He’d already removed the old bandage and was now mopping at his chest with a bunched up bit of the used cloth.

“Robert, wait for Bet, she—”

“I don’t need Bet, I’m fine,” he muttered, continuing what he was doing.

“The wound needs to be properly cleaned. Salve needs to be applied and then a fresh bandage has to be put on, Robert. You cannot do it alone,” she said firmly.

“I can,” he said stubbornly and Lisa shook her head, then glanced around as Bet appeared beside her with a basin of water, a cloth, salve and bandages.

Lisa stepped aside and gestured for the maid to enter, but remained by the door rather than risk seeing blood.

“Thank you, Bet,” Robert said quietly when Bet moved to the bedside table to set down the items she’d brought. “That’ll do.”

Bet hesitated, but it was definitely a dismissal, so she turned and crossed back toward Lisa with a shrug. What else could she do?

Once the maid was gone, Lisa closed the door, but remained by it, watching silently as Robert cleaned the wound properly and applied the salve. It was when he then tried to rebandage himself that he ran into trouble. Which was exactly what she’d expected.

“Lisa?” he said finally after spending several minutes struggling to get the cloth around himself just once. “Do you think you could . . . ?” He glanced over his shoulder to her apologetically.

Tsking with exasperation, Lisa straightened from where she’d leaned against the door frame, and crossed the room to stand in front of him, very kindly not saying I told you so. Much to her relief the one round of bandaging he’d managed to get around his chest, while crooked, covered the wound and was a clean, fresh white with no sign of blood to be seen. Letting her breath out, she took the roll of bandaging from him and said, “Arms up.”

“Lisa,” he murmured, reaching for her instead. “You can’t marry Findlay.”

“Don’t talk, Robert, it will just end in an argument,” she warned.

“But—”

“Shall I have Bet do this?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. The threat made him fall silent and sit back. Relieved, Lisa quickly began to run the clean white cloth of the fresh bandage around his chest.

“You smell delicious,” Robert murmured as she passed the bandage around his back, her arms around him and her face next to his.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, bringing the bandage around his front again.

“And you’re beautiful.”

“Robert,” she said on a sigh as she began to run it around his back again.

“It’s true,” he said simply. “You smell good, you look good . . . you feel good,” he added, his hands lowering to run from her shoulders and down her upper arms and back as she brought the bandage around his back to the front again.

“Robert.” This time his name was a plea and she paused in her efforts, her eyes closing briefly. Just that light, almost innocent touch of her arms had her nipples hardening and her thighs clenching against a stirring there.

“You want me,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to her neck that made her shudder. His hand rose to close over one breast then, and he squeezed gently. “You can’t marry Findlay. He could never make you feel like this.”

Lisa shook her head weakly and then brought the bandage around to his chest again and quickly tucked it under the cloth, trying, but finding it impossible to ignore the way he was caressing her. The moment she straightened, his other hand snaked around her hips to clasp her behind through her gown. He used the hold to urge her forward between his open legs as he massaged and kneaded her flesh.

“We could do this every night if you married me,” he said quietly, his hand dipping between her legs from behind and caressing her through her gown.

Biting her lip, Lisa caught at his shoulders and closed her eyes as her body began to sing under what he was doing.

“Marry me, Lisa.”

“Shut up,” she muttered and caught his face in her hands to raise it so that she could kiss him. Lisa didn’t struggle or demur when he suddenly turned, urging her onto the bed next to him.

A
burst of laughter brought Robert awake. Frowning into the darkness, he listened briefly, slowly relaxing as he recognized the murmur of Christiana and Richard’s voices drawing near. He heard Christiana suggest they check on him and felt a smile curve his lips as he glanced at the lump in the bed next to him, and then the door opened, light splashed in and he saw that the lump was merely the comforter bunched up. Lisa was gone.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Richard said from the door. “Everything all right?”

“Fine,” Robert muttered, turning his head to scowl at him. “I was sleeping but your laughter woke me up.”

Richard’s eyebrows rose at the testy voice he used. “Sorry about that, then. Good night.”

Robert sighed as the door closed. He shouldn’t have snapped and felt bad about it, but dammit, Lisa had slipped away again when being caught here would have solved everything.

Damn, he thought. Next time he would make sure he made love to her in her room. The thought made him blink in surprise. Hell. Was he really now contemplating compromising Lisa to force her into marriage? Well, she was already compromised, he just had to prove it. However, the point was that only a matter of days ago, he would have laughed at the suggestion that he wanted to marry anyone, and now he was willing to use dirty tricks to force Lisa into his bed and marriage.

What a difference a day or two could make, Robert thought wryly and then shook his head. He couldn’t believe she was not willing to marry him. Most women would be screaming holy murder and demanding he put a ring on their finger after being bedded. But not Lisa.

Robert supposed it was that damned romantic nature of hers. Those bloody books had raised ideas in her. She wanted romance, proclamations of undying love, and happy ever afters. But that wasn’t how the real world worked. People married and were miserable for the rest of their days. Well, most of them, he supposed, thinking of Christiana and Suzette’s happy marriages to Richard and Daniel. Of course, both couples had only been together for a couple of years. There was still plenty of time for the misery to settle in. He was sure even his father and mother must have enjoyed a year or two of happiness at the start.