Unforgiving Temper (47 page)

She tried the other drawers, even though she
already knew they would all be locked – and they were. Desperate to
have the letters, she quietly searched the desktop and the
surrounding furniture, hoping for a miracle that would give her a
key to the drawer, but she was disappointed. After another quick
search, she reluctantly gave up. She had no more time. Molly would
be starting to worry. She would just have to find another way of
getting the letters once she was out of Lord Grissholm's
reach.

Hurrying toward the door, a slight movement
near the hearth caught her attention, rooting her feet to the
floor. She held her breath, afraid to move. It could only be one
person. Perhaps he had not seen her in the dark. How much noise had
she made at the desk? She could not remember.

Anxiously she waited, every muscle in her
body straining to keep herself still; but her hopes of anonymity
were dashed in the next breath. The viscount's deep, resonant voice
came from the large wingback chair near the fireplace, its owner
hidden in the shadows. His soft, silky words were oddly
protracted.

“Looking for me, my dear?”

Elizabeth looked through the darkness to the
door, trying to gauge if she would have enough time to make it out
of the room. Her heart dropped. The shadowy doorway was too
far.

“No answer?” His voice hardened slightly. “I
thought not. Perhaps you would care to join me in a nightcap?”

With the glow of the fireplace silhouetting
him, Grissholm rose from the chair and stumbled over the small
table next to it, sending a large brandy decanter to the carpet
with a thud. For a moment he stared narrowly at the bottle, then
snatched it up and closely examined its contents. Twisting his lips
into a crooked smile, he gave her a small, unsteady bow.

“I beg your pardon. It seems that I haven't
any left to offer you.”

“My lord – ”

“Ah, the lady speaks!”

“My lord, you have been drinking. It would be
better to talk in the morning.”

“Talk? In the morning? About what?” he
sneered viciously, moving slowly toward her in the dark. “How you
have crept into my study like a thief in the night to steal my
property?”

His accusation sparked Elizabeth's own
indignation. “Your property? Do you mean my sister's letters that
you said you did not have? The ones you had already promised me
before you held them back to force my will?”

“Everything has a price, my dear. They are
yours, as soon as you fulfill my requirements.”

“I would not marry you if you were the last
man on earth!”

“Is that so? What, has the dashing
Mr. Darcy made you a better offer?”

“No!” she declared, not wanting to remember
that awful night at Hunsford Cottage. “It is
you
alone who
has destroyed any hopes you may have had! It is your abominable
behavior that makes me reject you. You deceived me! And kept me
from my family in a most cruel and heartless way. Do you think I
could ever marry you after that? Mr. Darcy has nothing to do
with it!”

“I am no fool. I know all about your
rendezvous in the park with him.” Lord Grissholm's figure now
loomed darkly beside her, close enough for her to catch the
overwhelming smell of brandy on his breath. “I am very careful with
things I consider mine, my dear. After your first
chance
encounter in the park, I had you watched – discreetly, of
course.”

“You are mistaken! He merely wished to warn
me of the rumors. There was nothing of what you imagine.”

“Deny it all you want, Elizabeth, but I
witnessed it myself the day I found you two in the park. He was so
besotted, he could barely take his eyes off of you! At first, I was
willing to give
you
the benefit of the doubt. However, when
you were seen meeting him again – after I had expressly forbid it –
you made it quite clear why you wished to break our
engagement.”

Hearing the bitter resentment in his voice,
Elizabeth forced herself to remain calm. She knew it would be
useless to offer any explanation at this point. The half-drunken
figure that now towered over her was beyond reason. “My lord, I
refuse to stand here and discuss this with you. It is late and this
room is freezing. We can sort this all out in the morning when you
have had a chance to sleep off your brandy.”

Not waiting for a response, Elizabeth calmly
turned toward the door, hoping to lessen his menacing mood with a
show of courage she was far from feeling. All she needed was to
reach the hallway and she could run to safety. Hardly daring to
breathe, she was halfway to the door when he caught her from behind
and spun her around to face him. The smoldering embers in the
hearth flared suddenly, throwing his passion-filled face into sharp
relief and giving it a wild, diabolical expression. Elizabeth
shrank back and Grissholm's hands flew out, capturing her arms in
an iron hold.

“I do not need to sleep off anything! What I
need is your assurance of an understanding, and – ” He stopped
then, peering down at her more closely, and his hands gripped her
tighter. Elizabeth winced as his fingers pressed painfully into her
already injured arm. “What is this? A coat? Are you going
somewhere, my dear?”

“My assurance?” She reminded him, trying to
keep her voice steady. “I would be happy to talk about that – in
the morning.”

He barked a low, menacing laugh. “You would
like that, I have no doubt! But it is not going to happen. I will
have it now – tonight.”

“Have what, my lord?” she asked innocently,
stalling for time as her mind raced to find a means of escape.

“Your assurance, madam!”

“Very well, I give you my assurance. Now let
me go.”

“Oh, no,” he growled, slowly pulling her into
an intimate embrace. “I will have more than your word. I will have
an assurance that cannot be revoked. One that will make you forget
Darcy once and for all.”

“There is nothing to forget I tell you!” She
was suddenly very afraid. This was more than the intimidating
manner he had displayed before – much more. “Let me go!”

He studied her face intently in the darkness,
deaf to her denial. “You would have gone away before I could
convince you of your duty. My methods may be a little harsh at
times, but it is for your own good.” He suddenly bent his head to
kiss her and she twisted away, leaving him to kiss her cheek. He
was not deterred and his breath blew hot on her neck. “Do not make
yourself uneasy. When we are married, it will come easier.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, slowly
lowering his hands to caress her waist. Elizabeth responded with a
cry, instantly recoiling from his touch in horror. Finding herself
suddenly free, she stumbled backward, retreating from the threat of
his arms which were now stretched wide as if to subdue a frightened
animal. For one fleeting moment, she thought she may yet escape and
then he lunged forward, pressing her back against the flame-figured
door fronts of a massive mahogany tallboy.

In the next instant, he captured her face
with his hands, his body holding her fast against the unyielding
wood. His mouth came down hard on hers, heedless of her hands
beating furiously against his chest. Her frantic struggles were in
vain. At length, he pulled back with a satisfied grin and she wiped
at her mouth in disgust.

“You, sir, are drunk! You are not in control
of yourself. Let me go now before you regret your actions.”

“On the contrary, my sweet Elizabeth, I am
very much in control – and I am quite certain I shall not regret my
actions.” He gently stroked her now-crimson cheek with his
fingertips, sending an involuntary shudder through her. “In fact, I
have been sitting here these past hours considering what to do with
you. I realize it is not your fault Darcy has filled your head with
his lies. I expected he would try something when he turned up in
Cumberland and then followed you here to London. He cannot be
allowed to spoil my plans; and so I will secure you for myself in
the best possible way. He will have no choice but to give you
up.”

“This is not about me at all, is it?” she
whispered, stunned with a sudden understanding. “It is about
him
! You think him in love with me. And you would force me
into marriage just to spite him?!”

“You
are
a clever woman!”

“And what will happen when you are done with
me? Shall I disappear too?”

Grissholm stiffened at her implication but
did not loosen his hold. “So, you know about Catherine, as well.
Then you know that I am repaying a long-overdue debt. But do not
sell yourself short, dearest. You are a delightful creature, which
makes the retribution all the sweeter. You see, there is no
question of your cooperation. Once our union is consummated, you
will not be fit for any other man and you will accept your place
with me. More importantly, this particular disappointment, I am
quite certain, will stay with Darcy the rest of his life.” A silent
reflection brought a crooked smile to his face. “I had not counted
on your fortuitous appearance this evening, my dear; but I think
now is as good a time as any to secure my victory. We shall still
marry, of course; we shall have to for Darcy's sake – appearances,
you know – but the wedding ceremony will merely be a formality; one
in which you will gladly participate once we are finished here. I
shall deliver the invitation to Darcy personally.”

His hands moved to the top button on her
pelisse, fumbling at first and then opening it with a twist of his
fingers. Realizing his intentions, Elizabeth gasped, slapping his
hand away. “No!” she cried, “you cannot mean it! Let me go!”

Smiling patiently at her ineffectual efforts,
he flicked open another button. “Come now, do not be difficult. You
shall only regret it.”

Sheer terror filled Elizabeth's mind,
sparking a renewed resistance. She fought frantically, clawing at
his hands, desperate in her struggle against him.

“Very well, we shall do it the hard way,” he
growled, grasping her coat and ripping it open, sending the buttons
flying in every direction. In one violent tug, he shoved the
pelisse back over her arms until the narrow sleeves caught in a
tangle at her elbows, effectively pinning her arms to her sides and
shrouding her hands in the folds of the coat. She struggled
helplessly as he gathered her into his arms.

“Do you know how many times these past months
I have wanted to capture these impudent lips? You have not
disappointed me. It was everything I imagined. You are a bewitching
woman, Elizabeth!” The satisfied grin returned as he leaned in to
kiss her again.

Fighting to escape his mouth, she let out a
cry of despair as his lips found hers, crushing them with a fevered
passion that demanded more. She tightened her jaw in response,
pressing her lips into a tight line against his, refusing to
surrender.

Feeling her defiance, he pulled back, giving
her a narrow look. Without taking his eyes from her, he slid one
hand up to caress her neck, giving a low, devilish laugh as his
fingers slowly tightened, choking off her breath.

“You shall not deny me, Elizabeth. I will
have you…and
he
will know.”

She thrashed frantically, trying to free her
arms to better defend herself, but the tight, narrow sleeves
remained solidly tangled. The burning need for air prevailed and
she finally yielded, opening her mouth in a desperate attempt to
breathe. He immediately relaxed his hold and she gasped, taking
deep, rasping breaths of cold air. Grissholm laughed outright as he
lightly caressed her throat.

“You see, my dear? I will have my way and it
will do you no good to think otherwise. We need not make this
unpleasant, you know. Now, shall we begin again?”

Elizabeth wanted to scream, but she knew it
would not help her. It would only add to her humiliation if anyone
knew. She had once said the very rich could give offence wherever
they pleased and the truth of it was here before her. This man
could do whatever he pleased and there would be no retribution, no
justice for her. No servant would ever stand up against him, and
the privileges of his elevated status in society would shield him
from the law. When he was done, she would be left in utter disgrace
and ruin with no choice but to marry him.

Willing her mind to escape what her body
could not, Elizabeth closed her eyes and remained stiff and
impassive to his now soft and insistent kisses. From a distant
corner of her mind, she felt him draw back between each kiss, felt
his ragged breath on her face, then heard a quiet growl of
irritation. With a shocking jolt, she registered the feel of his
hand at her neck, drawing out the ribbon that gathered the bodice
of her gown. In spite of herself, a scream of abject terror rose in
her throat, but the cry was silenced before it ever reached her
lips as he smothered it with a deep, passionate kiss.

The terrifying sensation of fabric slipping
from her shoulders and the heat of his hand on her bare skin united
Elizabeth's mind and body once more, spurring her to action. With a
violent, frenzied twist, she managed to break free.

Instantly Elizabeth turned and darted away,
desperately trying to free herself from the wretched pelisse. Her
heart racing, she searched the darkness for the door and finally
found the large recessed shadow that marked her escape.
Lord Grissholm's muttered oath from somewhere behind quickened
her already frantic steps. She was nearly there!

Seemingly out of nowhere, Grissholm's drunken
hand clumsily caught her shoulder, tearing at the thin linen of her
chemise. A low growl sounded in her ear as his hand slid down,
firmly grasping the folds of the woolen coat bunched at her back.
In the next instant, she was jerked backward and away in a
stomach-turning twist – away from the shadowy door that had been
her salvation – and then she was flung into the darkness.