To Marry a Marquess (27 page)

"Victoria?"

She shook her head and squeezed the pillow tighter around her ears. She must be dreaming. It sounded like Lord Drakefield speaking to her.

"Victoria."

Her name was voiced with such authority, she turned sharply and her eyes flew open in dread. Good heavens, it was him.

"W-what are you doing here?"

He hovered over her as if it were the inn all over again. He wore a neat blue jacket with buckskin breeches hugging his powerful legs. His ebony hair gleamed in the sunlight while eyes the color of dark rain clouds glared into hers. The strange thing was, she was glad to see him.

His reaction was swift as he wrapped a powerful hand about her bare ankle and pulled her toward the edge of the bed. "It seems to me that I ought to be the one asking the questions, madam."

She was shocked by the heat of his touch, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat as she tried to devise an acceptable explanation. Her mind went blank. Her cheeks warmed under his fiery gaze.

He let go of her ankle and leaned over her. He smelled of coffee and bayberry soap. "I am waiting for an explanation."

Her answer was the fleeting thud of her heart against her breast. She wanted to tell him she loved him, that she wanted to trust him.

But something inside her rebelled when he spoke to her as if she were a five-year-old child. "If you do not start explaining yourself, madam, I believe I will take you over my knee right here."

She gasped in outrage, pulling the covers over herself. "You would not dare?"

A surly smile tilted the corners of his mouth, and she felt herself color.

"You have vexed me to no end, madam. If you are not willing to speak to me, then I will explain a few things to you."

She flinched when his hand sliced through the air. There was an edge to his voice that she had never heard before. But it was that odious pocket watch that vexed her to no end. Why was he snapping it out now?

"First of all, fill your mind with this little fact. Your little pirate did not stop weeping for hours after we found that note of yours. He thought he failed to protect you."

Her stomach churned with remorse. "I can explain—"

"Second of all," he continued with a harsh set to his lips. "Sarah refused to eat until you returned. It was Mrs. Dorling who finally forced her."

Heat singed Victoria's face.

"And on top of that, your Aunt Phoebe swooned every time she reread your letter. She refuses to marry my father until you are found. Needless to say, the duke has an army out searching for you. Trying to keep the gossip down has cost him a fortune."

"I had no idea." Guilt stabbed her heart. She hadn't meant to cause such misery.
Just tell me you love me. Please.

"You had no idea?" he growled. "Confound it, woman. Do you always do what you want, when you want?"

"Please stop shouting. Everyone will hear you. This is most improper, you being in my bedchambers."

His gray eyes darkened to black. "You have the insolence to tell me that I ought not to be here?
You
being here is improper! Did you ever stop to think how
I
would feel? Or how people would look at me after you fled Percy Hall?"

She blinked and felt a piece of her heart die. He was worried how he would look? How obvious could it be? He did not love her. It was his pride that was hurt.

What had she been thinking?

She looked away, a suffocating sensation tightening about her chest. His kisses meant nothing at all. Oh, she realized now that she had hurt her family, but William’s life had been at stake.

She stiffened as he continued to scowl at her.

She glared back at him with a decided coolness. "How did you gain entrance into my chambers?"

He let out a wicked smile. "I climbed the tree outside your window."

"You climbed in here?"

"I do know how to climb trees, too."

"Why don't you climb right back down then?" she said, boldly lifting her chin.

Without warning, he grabbed her shoulders and whipped her off the bed. "If you act like a child, madam, you will be treated like one."

"How dare you?"

"I dare that and more." He pulled out that infernal pocket watch again and looked up. "I will allow you all of fifteen minutes to make yourself presentable and give your farewells to your host. You may send for your things later."

He snapped the watch closed and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Starting now."

"I cannot leave…You don't understand."

"I understand completely. You can and you will."

Victoria pressed her lips together, knowing that he would make good on his threat. She had no choice but to comply. "Very well."

"I will be waiting for you outside in the carriage. Remember fifteen minutes or else."

His dark gaze bore into her with calculated precision. She swallowed tightly. The next moment, she watched, dumbfounded, as he made a swift retreat out the window.

Drake took a seat in his carriage, staring at his pocket watch. "Ten more seconds," he repeated to himself. "Then so help me, I will plow past that door and—"

His head jerked up as Victoria came bounding out of the townhouse, one hand clasping her bonnet, the other hand holding her shawl about her breasts.

A wide-eyed countess stared from the townhouse window as the carriage door opened and Drake jerked Victoria inside.

The vehicle clamored down the otherwise quiet street for a few taut seconds before Victoria spoke. "I simply cannot believe you treated me like that. A gentleman would—"

Drake gritted his teeth. "At this point, if you are wise, you would not call me a gentleman or anything else."

The thinly veiled warning in his voice caused a blush to sweep across her cheeks. But she was not about to be bullied. Besides, he was only doing this for his pride. "If you could have  seen that lady's face when I departed. She is devastated I am leaving. I am her only hope."

"Lady?" Drake's chest began to rumble with mocking laughter. "I take it you had knowledge that your so-called lady was using your inheritance to her heart's desire?"

"Of course." Victoria smoothed her skirt with her hand. "After all, what happened to her son was partly my fault." Her hands trembled at the thought of Wendover killing Nightham. She wanted to tell the marquess the facts, but the odious man was being so pompous, she couldn’t. "I thought it only right—"

Drake broke in. "That lady snatched close to ten thousand pounds from your precious little account! She bought a pretty little cottage in the country. Not a castle mind you, but a pleasant little place to do her business. If I had left you there another week, she would have robbed your pockets blind. You would have no credit in your account at all. May I remind you, the trust is not settled as of yet. The bank is only lending you the money until everything comes through."

Victoria clutched her shawl. "Lord Nightham left his mother virtually nothing. Since he was killed, she has no one to look after her."

"She is not your responsibility," he snapped, hitting the side of the carriage with his fist.

She watched his anger mount and realized this was not the time to tell him about the possibility of the lady being her mother-in-law or of Wendover's threats. "What is the lady to do then?"

"Lady? That lonely widow is not a lady at all."

"I don't understand."

He turned and glared at her. "Sweetheart, you have been aiding a lady of the night."

Victoria gasped. "No?"

"Yes. To put it bluntly, the Countess of Nightham services the gentlemen of High Society with females of... hmmm, let's just say, ladies of ill repute. You have been shoveling money into the oldest business in the world, my dear philanthropist."

Victoria’s cheeks flamed. She opened her mouth, but found she could not speak.

Drake's jaw hardened as he stared out the window. "Believe me, the countess will be able to live without you and your little inheritance for a very long time."

The hooves of the horses drummed against Victoria's brain. She was deeply ashamed of being taken advantage of in such a manner. Not once, but twice. She could not believe Lord Nightham's mother had fooled her just like her son had done. What a peagoose she had been.

"You are not to take a shilling without my permission."

Victoria barely caught the last of his words. "What?"

"I said, I put a halt on your account."

She flinched. "That is my coin to do with as I wish."

"Not for long."

Victoria clenched her teeth, almost too angry to speak. "And what do you mean by that?"

"After we are married, you and your money will belong to me."

"You are fooling yourself, my lord. I have already told you, I will not marry you."
He would never love her.

"Ah, yes, I do seem to remember something to that effect. Nevertheless, you
will
marry me. You seemed to have changed your mind when rescuing Margueretta from that stream."

"Yes, well, I believe I already told you I was delirious at the time. And I do not believe I ever said yes."

To her surprise, he turned, taking her hand in a warm clasp. His eyes softened. "You little fool. For days I thought Wendover had kidnapped you. A silly thought. But I was beside myself with worry. I would have killed the man if he had laid one finger on you."

Her lips trembled and she looked away. Her emotions were swirling out of control.
Wendover killed Nightham
.
And he might kill you and William. And I love you so much. I don't want you hurt.

"Victoria, look at me." He pulled her gently toward him.

She tried to fight the staggering desire to be near him. To love him. To trust him. But it was impossible to resist him. He moved her hand to his lips. The touch was warm and sweet, sending a quiver of delight through her. He pressed his mouth against hers. She never dreamed a kiss could be so passionate and gentle at the same time. She tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her mind that she would be putting him in danger and William as well. But she couldn't. She loved this man too much.

"No." She pushed her hands against his chest, coming to her senses.

Stunned, Drake pulled back. "I didn't force you to kiss me, you know." The stark pain in his eyes squeezed her heart.

She looked away, feeling him stiffen beside her. She wanted to tell him everything, but she didn't want him killed. And how could he treat her so tenderly and not love her? "Where are you taking me?"

"Home."

"What should I tell Aunt Phoebe?"

"Mayhap you ought to have thought about that before you left Percy Hall so quickly.  Do you have any idea what grief you have caused everybody?"

The condemnation in his words drained the blood from her face. 

Minutes later, Victoria stood in her aunt’s drawing room and felt sick to her stomach when Sarah turned her back on her and fled from the room. By that time Phoebe and William had entered, and Victoria made her feeble apologies again, but even her aunt seemed disheartened at her flimsy excuse of visiting a friend who had needed her.