Time After Time (113 page)

Lucas went very still. “Let me see if I understand this correctly,” he said tersely. “You are saying you’re not going to marry me.”

“Precisely,” she clarified.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care!” she burst out, stamping her foot and plunking her hands on her graceful hips. She gave him a good glare, and then she turned toward the door without further warning, obviously intending to leave the room.

Lucas had been so shocked by her breathtaking impertinence that for a moment all he could do was stare at her retreating back.
The outrageous wench!
If she thought she could get rid of him that easily, then she had another think coming.

He caught her arm in a none-too-gentle grip just as she reached the door and whirled her around to face him, holding her as he leaned close. “I was not asking you to care, Miss Maitland. In fact, I wasn’t asking you to do anything at all. But I think I have the right to expect you to honor your word.”

“Who do you think you are?” she cried, struggling to free her from his grip.

“I
know
who I am, Penelope,” he hissed in his most menacing tone. “It’s you who seem to have forgotten your identity, so let me remind you. You are Baron Maitland’s daughter, and as his daughter, you have a duty to honor your father’s wishes. Just as I have a duty to honor
my
father’s wishes.” He gave her his most imperious look. “I suggest you start acting with the integrity and maturity expected from a lady of your station, instead of behaving like a petulant child.”

His words seemed to startle the bravado out of her, for she suddenly looked deflated.
Penelope was finally seeing sense
.

She swallowed visibly and said quietly, “Please let go of my arm, my lord.”

So much for seeing sense.
“Not so fast, Penelope,” he growled, but he loosened his grip on her arm. “Do we have an understanding?”

Her brows met in consternation. “I am sure I am not at all what you wished for or expected in a fiancée.”

His eyes narrowed. “We all have our duties to perform, no matter our expectations or wishes.”

She brightened immediately. “Ah, then you are in luck!” Her eyes were feverishly bright, making her look like a forest nymph who couldn’t wait to grant him a favor. “As it happens, my lord, I am more than willing to set you free from your obligation to me.”

“Are you, indeed?”

“For a price,” she announced.

“You need money?”

Of course, she needed money. Her plain clothes attested to that fact. She wouldn’t have stood there bargaining like a fishwife otherwise. It was a game women had played with him since he’d regained the fortune that came with the earldom. It irked him to know his fiancée turned out to be no better than those women, no better than her father.

She stared at him with wounded pride. “I don’t need
your
money.”

He looked up at the beamed ceiling, praying for patience. “Then what is it you need?”

“I need your help. If you are willing to help me, I shall release you from your duty to marry me.”

“And if I refuse?”

She gave him a smug look. “You won’t refuse.”

“Bloody hell! What makes you think that?” he snapped. Hadn’t he just told her he was here to marry her? The woman seemed to be addled.

“My lord, let us have some honesty here. We both know this betrothal has nothing to do with us, but our fathers, God rest their souls.” She went to the window and stared at the raindrops distorting the view of the courtyard. “I know more about you than you think. If you had any interest at all in marrying me, you wouldn’t have waited two decades to act on it.”

The pain behind her words made Lucas uneasy. He took in her proud countenance, and in spite of his earlier annoyance at her transparent attempts to manipulate him, he couldn’t help but be fascinated. He wondered how much it cost her pride to admit to him she knew he didn’t want her.

She was wrong, however.

She wasn’t a classic beauty to be sure, and he had no doubt men who weren’t as observant as he would find her looks passable at best, but he sensed an air of innocence and pride about her that he found … arresting. She bore the same name as that of Odysseus’s devoted wife from Homer’s famous work, but she had the look of the hero’s mistress, the goddess Circe, a forest nymph who drugged men and turned them into beasts.

In fact, she bore an uncanny resemblance to a Romney painting he’d seen of the devious Circe, but the portrait lacked Penelope’s look of radiant good health, her air of mischievous humor and calm assurance that captured a man’s gaze and held it there.

She turned back to him, her form silhouetted by the light coming in from the window, making her seem ethereal, and his eyes shifted to her generous, plump bow of a mouth. Those soft lips reminded him of sun-ripened peaches. He wondered if they could possibly taste as sweet as they looked even while they curved into a frown of displeasure.

He sucked in a steadying breath as his gaze travelled down her lush breasts and gently curved waist outlined by her simple, practical gown that somehow managed to call attention to her graceful form.

Lucas cursed and tore his gaze from the delightful little baggage who was his fiancée when he realized he was reacting to her physically. He hadn’t expected this. Never in all his imaginings during the long journey to this godforsaken place did he think his fiancée would be the most intriguing female he’d set eyes on in a very long time. This was not good. He didn’t need this complication.

She is a means to an end, nothing more
.

Her father’s abandonment had ended his father’s life. Lucas’s father had become a hollow version of the man he’d been before the loss of his wife and fortune. Penelope’s father turning his back on their situation had been the final blow that made Father pull the trigger. Father’s will was a testament to how that last betrayal had affected him, for now he was forcing Lucas to make sure Maitland made good on his promise.

Penelope’s voice brought him back to the present. “Have you had your fill, my lord? Or would you like to study my nose for a while longer?”

His lips twitched with amusement. “I’ve had my fill for now, Miss Maitland.” He watched as her cheeks flushed a becoming pink. “And you are wrong, you know. I’m not opposed to marrying you. But tell me what it is I can help you with.”

Her lips thinned, and her hazel eyes flashed with resentment, and he thought he heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded like “butter the crumpets” before she put her hands on her waist and started tapping her toe.

“It’s very gentlemanly of you to spare my feelings, but your actions over the past years speak volumes of how you feel about this whole affair.” She gave a sigh of irritation. “All you have to do, my lord, is show up at some functions around the village with me, and pretend that we are actually engaged. And then you can leave.”

“But we
are
engaged, Miss Maitland,” he reminded her.

“Yes, yes, I know that,” she said impatiently. “But certain people need to be reassured of the fact. Now that I think about it, you’ve chosen the perfect time to grace us with your presence.”

“Why?”

She raised clear eyes to his. “My lord?”

“Why do you need to convince people of the legitimacy of our betrothal?”

“It would give me time.”

“Time for what?”

“To save face, of course,” she muttered after a moment’s pause. “The least you could do for the fiancée who stayed faithful all these years is spare her the humiliation of being Anne of Cleves,” she added in a desperate tone. “I have to live here after you go. If you leave immediately following our discussion, people will think that, in the manner of Henry VIII, you took one look at me and decided you ‘like her not.’”

She could sway even an earl to spend a portion of his valuable time to humor her, and though Lucas wasn’t fooled, he was reluctantly impressed. Oh, he could tell she was hiding something from him, but she’d convinced him she was worth the time it would take to find out what it was.

“My lord,” she said quietly, “I would be forever grateful if you agree to my terms. That’s all I ask of you.” She smiled up at him and patted his shoulder in a beseeching manner. “Stay a few days, and I’ll repay you in any way I can.”

Lucas took hold of her other hand and held it against his chest. “My services won’t come cheap.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t have a lot of money.”

“I don’t need your money,” he replied, echoing her words from earlier.

“Then what do you want?” she asked, her hands clenching into fists as if to restrain herself from shaking him.

She was a bossy bit of goods, but he was determined to take the lead in this strange bargaining situation.

Lucas pulled her to him and leaned down, smiling against her ear when he heard her gasp of surprise. He was suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to remind this exasperating woman exactly what her duty was. “I would like you to pay me with a kiss.”

And with that, he bent his head to claim her mouth and everything to which he’d been entitled almost from the day she was born. “Should we seal this bargain, Penelope?”

Her gaze dropped to his lips, a mere breath away from hers, as he waited for her to decide. He stood unmoving while she hesitated, then he saw a flash of longing and curiosity in her eyes. A surge of triumph crashed through him when she tilted her head back and rose on tiptoes to meet his mouth.

He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, turning it up to his and savoring the feel of her creamy skin as his thumb stroked her flushed cheek. He inhaled the sweet fragrance of roses and soap wafting off her, beckoning him closer.

He’d intended to give her a brief, gentle touch — a polite greeting between prospective lovers. But the moment she crushed her mouth to his, he was lost. His lips caressed, tasted and molded hers as he claimed her mouth in a seeking kiss of blatant ownership.

His hands moved down her body, exploring her form as he’d been itching to do from the moment he saw her light up the dining hall with her smile. His mouth drank her in, and he reveled in her response to him as she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, while he untied her bonnet and shoved it off her head so he could kiss her more thoroughly.

Lucas lifted his mouth from hers to taste the elegant line of her throat, letting his fingers sink into her hair to grab a fistful of the fragrant, reddish brown curls. He heard the pins holding her thick mane fall to the flagstone floor, the sound accompanied by her ragged breathing. She was magnificent. He didn’t know why Penelope was letting him touch her so, but he wasn’t going to question something that felt this good. He just enjoyed the fact that she was as he trailed kisses up her delicate neck, glorying in the moan that tore from her lips.

He shuddered when he felt her hands glide through his hair. He kissed her proud chin, and she sighed. His mouth curved in a smile as he trailed kisses along her jaw, unable to deny the keen satisfaction he felt at her innocent response to his caresses. She was so responsive, so open, so sweet … With this woman, a man would know exactly where he stood.

“My lord — ”

“Lucas,” he corrected, his mouth against the tantalizing curve of her ear. He traced it with his tongue, grinning when he heard her gasp. “We are betrothed. You should call me Lucas.”

“Lucas,” she sighed his name in a beckoning whisper that drove him mad.

He cupped the back of her neck in his hand and drew her mouth closer for another taste. This time he sought to deepen the kiss. His tongue invaded her parted lips, greedily claiming every delicious, silken part.

He growled his approval deep in his throat when she matched his movements. Good God, he could get addicted to her eagerness, her willing response to him. Never had a woman felt so good and soft in his arms. She clung more tightly to him, encouraging him even further. He plundered her generous lips over and over, drinking in the intoxicating taste of her as pure, undiluted lust roared through him.

Then a knock sounded at the door.

Penelope started, tearing her mouth from his.

“Polly?”

He barely heard Penelope’s friend calling her through the pounding in his head, but the opportunity it presented was clear. He could end this and claim Penelope right here. There’d be a witness, and they’d be married by tomorrow at the latest, scruples be damned.

Yes, this was what he should do. He should save his tenants, save his fortune … he lowered his head.

He should kiss her again.

• • •

As Mari’s apologetic voice from the other side of the door drifted through the room, Penelope put her hands on Lucas’s hard chest to push him away while she drowned in mortification.

Instead of letting her go, his arms tightened even more, forcing her to feel the unyielding evidence of his arousal, which pressed against her through the folds of her gown. The new intimacy made her freeze, her hands still lying on his chest.

His dark eyes glittered as shock and awe played over his stark features.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, his heated gaze roving over her face. Then his grip on her waist tightened as he began to lower his head to hers once more.

“My lord!” Penelope panicked and pushed at his chest again.

“Lucas,” he insisted.

“Lucas,” she said, watching his onyx eyes smolder as she stood in his embrace. “My friend, Mari, is at the door. I must go see what she wants.”

As if on cue, another knock sounded, a louder one.

“What is it, Mari?” Penelope called out, though she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Lord Ravenstone. Lucas.

“Ummm, are you and his lordship finished talking? A note arrived from Highfield Manor. Dr. Walker is home.”

Penelope’s eyes widened at the news. “What does Papa want?”

“I think he’s heard about his lordship’s presence because he wants you to come home
immediately
.”

Dear Lord!
That was all it took for her to wriggle out of Lucas’s arms, ignore his protest and fling the door wide open, revealing Nelson and Mari on the other side, their eyes full of questions.