When Angels Fall (17 page)

“More, Lissa?” he whispered.

She didn’t move, and by simply not refusing his offer, she gave her consent better than had she cried it out for all the neighbors to hear. His lips came down on hers once more. He was still tender, yet this time demanding as well. He demanded a response and he received one. She released a small, throaty moan, then melted into his embrace.

In truth, she knew she wanted him. Her lips craved his like a beggar craved gold. But it was wrong to want him. It had to be. His lips felt too good, his touch, too right. He was seducing her into more than lovemaking. He wanted her to trust him, and the way she felt at this moment, with his lips bruising hers with his passion, she almost could. Anything to go farther.

His lips left hers and moved hotly to her throat. Instinctively she tossed her head back as if inviting more. He accepted with pleasure, trailing his tongue down the length of her vulnerable neck and nibbling softly on the sweet skin of her nape.

“Oh, Ivan.” She moaned as his hands went to her face. He kissed her once more and this time he was not nearly so gentle, for his appetite had grown. He took her lips in a long, hungry kiss, then he coaxed her mouth open so she could further receive his onslaught. She tensed as she felt him enter, but the sensation he created was too seductive to refuse. She surrendered to it, clutch
ing the lapels of his frock coat while his arms pulled her so close she felt their bodies surely would meld into one.

In the back of her mind, she thought she heard a knock at the cottage’s front door. Yet to quit this heady trip into paradise on the small chance that there actually was a caller at her cottage was too dear a price to pay. Her mind was spinning out of control, but still she tried to think. She vaguely remembered the snow and cold, and she easily rationalized that Violet Croft would see no further visitors this afternoon.

As if sensing her hesitation, Ivan’s kiss grew even hotter. His seduction was hard to resist, and already he was persuading her to do the most wanton things. Her hand willingly caressed the fine dark hairs on his nape, and soon, she knew, she would be caressing that wicked scar, that terrible reminder of the man he had been and the man he was now.

“What is this?” a voice intruded, and behind her, Lissa heard a pitiful gasp of disbelief. The moment shattered like a crystal ball. She broke from Ivan’s embrace and stood face to face with all the troubles that had dogged her these many years: The Scandal, her reputation, Ivan. Albert stood in the kitchen doorway with Evvie and George beside him. It was obvious they had seen them kissing—all but Evvie, that was, and by the look on Evvie’s face, she hadn’t had to see them kissing; she knew anyway.

Lissa’s fingers went to her traitorous lips. They still burned from Ivan’s kiss and she knew they had to be red and slightly swollen. A sob caught in her throat and she tried to look away, but Ivan wouldn’t let her. His arm went possessively around her waist and he forcibly turned her to face the door.

“What brings you out here, Rooney?” Ivan asked as he held her fast. She tensed and tried to move from the circle of his arms, but without fighting like a vixen, she knew he wouldn’t let her go. She would have sold her soul to have been able to turn on him at that moment, for she
knew without a doubt this entire episode was his doing, but she’d already shamed her family with one scene. There was no need for two.

“Lissa, you sent for me,” Albert replied bitterly. He then reached inside his overcoat and threw a piece of vellum onto the kitchen table.

“I didn’t send for you. I wouldn’t . . .” she answered, her voice quivering. She didn’t need to read the note on the table. She knew what it said. It summoned Albert to Violet Croft and was undoubtedly signed with her name. It could not have been written in her hand, yet Albert had no way of knowing that. So he had come, only to find her in a compromising embrace with Nodding Knoll’s most notorious citizen.

She looked at Ivan, her eyes blazing with anger and grief. He had tricked her. The motivation for his kiss had not been desire or affection, rather it had been a heartless attempt to humiliate her. He hated her that much—enough to destroy her last chance to save her family, enough to see her crushed by the fist of debtor’s prison. Suddenly the vision of her rotting in a putrid-smelling cell passed before her eyes. Would he laugh to see her so denigrated? Or would he merely look upon her with pity in his eyes, returning the look that so many had bestowed upon him as he grew up Powerscourt’s unwanted bastard?

His treachery threatened to consume her. But instead of succumbing to it, she hardened, as she had hardened when her parents died. Her face turned into a perfect porcelain mask—beautiful and doll-like to the eyes, cold and unyielding to the touch. Then she turned to Ivan.

“Does this please you, my lord?” she asked him icily. “Or were you hoping there would be a larger audience than just Albert? Perhaps you would see me ruined before the whole of Nodding Knoll?”

“Rooney shall speak of this to no one, Lissa,” he answered gently.

She wanted to slap his face. “Oh, but how can he not speak of it? He has every right.”

Ivan turned to Albert. A smug smile crossed his lips. “Rooney, as a gentleman, you have no need to mention what went on here. I needn’t ask you to—”

Albert shook with rage. Suddenly he couldn’t contain his anger any more. “I shall speak of it! I shall! You both deserve punishment for this infamy and, besides, Mother will ask why I am not courting Miss Alcester, and I could never lie to Mother!” Albert crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“That will only start rumors,” Ivan told him, annoyance tightening his features.

“Then so be it. You both should have thought of that before—”

Ivan cut him off. “Rumors can be viciously untrue, my man.” He looked thoughtfully at his nails before continuing. “For example, what if someone should start the rumor that you’ve taken to visiting, say . . . old man Norton?”

Lissa gasped. It was unthinkable what Ivan was threatening. Old Mr. Norton lived on the other side of town in a small cottage, and every once in a while a rumor would pass through the village that he’d been caught again wearing corsets and gowns and dipping into the rouge pot. Everyone knew about old Mr. Norton, yet no one spoke of him openly. It was too . . . indelicate. She cringed and looked at Albert. He was cringing too.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said to Ivan. “It would be a gross lie.”

“Yes, it would be,” Ivan admitted. “However, take heart, old chap, only one in three would believe it.”

“Good
God
!” Albert nearly swooned at the thought.

Ivan walked to the kitchen door and held it for him. Albert gave no pause. As if running from a den of thieves, he clutched his top hat in his hands and took off.

Ivan shut the door. Silence fell in the kitchen. Lissa
looked around her, first at Evvie, who seemed pained indeed, then at George, who seemed hopelessly confused. Finally her eyes turned to Ivan. Glaring at him, she picked up the note from the table and held it to her breast.

“He was not for you, either, Lissa.” Ivan reached for the note. She backed away.

“Oh, but he was. I suppose you shall see to it that I never have another suitor?”

He remained silent, his eyes dark and distrustful.

“Answer me,” she demanded in a harsh whisper.

“You’ll never find the right man, so why search for him?” he said finally.

“Perhaps you’re right. So I shall do without any suitors. I shall do without a single one, yet I shall do all right anyway, just to spite you.”

He ignored the sharpness of her words. Instead, he tried to soothe her by saying “Give me the note, Lissa. I shall burn it.” He held out his hand.

“Never!” She backed farther away.

“Why not? What do you want it for?” he demanded.

“Evidence.”

“And what do you plan to do with it? Throw me in jail for forgery?” He chuckled. “Give it over.”

“Never!” she repeated. “I plan on keeping it by my bedstead. I shall look at it every night.” Her voice grew husky with hurt and despair. “And I will pray that all the misfortune of this family be bestowed upon your head.”

“Lissa!” Evvie gasped at her sister’s vengefulness.

“You foolish girl, I saved you from a living hell with that witless fop, and yet here you are spouting curses at me.” Ivan scowled and reached for the note once more. But stepping back, she would not give it up.

“You’re just doing this because Father would have approved of
Albert
,” she reminded him brutally.

“Then damn his eyes, Lissa. Damn his eyes.”

Ivan looked at her, his expression as hard as granite. Without reverence for the dead, Ivan cursed again. Lissa
watched as he assumed a stance of rock-hard rebellion, rebellion bred by the whip. He dared her to react, to rebel also, but there was no point in fighting now. She’d lose. Shooting him one last glance of pure hatred, she ran up the stairs, feeling utterly disgraced.

That evening was a dark one indeed. Lissa spent the entire time in her bedroom, weeping softly into her pillow. She indulged herself in crying only because she knew nothing could be done about her family’s situation that night, and also because she knew tomorrow she would have to begin to fight back.

Oh, and she would, she promised herself, wiping her tearstained cheeks. Ivan had not bested her. She would wake tomorrow and find some way to keep the Alcester family going, even if it meant becoming a scullery wench.

Staring off into a corner, she didn’t hear the door to her bedroom open. She barely heard Evvie’s quiet footsteps as she walked to the bed. Lissa did recognize the touch, however, for her sister’s touch was always warm and knowing.

“I brought you some hot milk and honey. It will help you sleep.” Evvie skillfully placed the glass on the nightstand.

“We’ll make it. I swear I shan’t let you down.” Lissa wiped one last tear from her eyes.

“Of course we shall.” Evvie lay next to her and put her arms around Lissa’s shoulders. “Albert wasn’t right for you, anyway. Ivan was correct on that point.”

“He wanted to ruin me. And now he has done so.”

“He hasn’t done so. Ivan made sure Albert won’t speak a word. You heard him.”

“Yes, I heard him. He wants to be the one to spread the news himself. He hates me so!” Soon she was shaking anew from her sobs. Her pain seemed to find no balm. In one short afternoon, Ivan had repaid in duplicate the pain she might have caused him years ago.

“Lissa, he cares for you. I know he does,” Evvie whispered, stroking her hair.

“Please, Evvie, you misjudge him. He’s a black-souled villain, and he proved that this afternoon.”

“What he did was appalling, that’s true. But he wants you, Lissa. He didn’t want you to go to another.”

“Good God, Evvie.” Lissa sat up and looked at her sister. “He’s not the stableboy any longer. Do you think he cannot find the words or the courage to ask me to marry him?”

“Old wounds go deep, sister.”

“Yes,” Lissa agreed with a sob, “and that’s why he’s doing what he’s doing. Revenge.”

“Revenge was not on his mind when he kissed you. And I know he kissed you, for George confirmed to me he did.”

“He wants me, all right. I know that. But if you think that his wanting me will result in a marriage proposal, Evvie, you’re sadly mistaken. He’s already had the opportunity to propose, and I tell you, he proposed something quite different from marriage.”

Evvie grew grim. “You mean he wanted you to . . . ?”

“Be his mistress.” Lissa covered her face with her hands and cried hysterically, “And must I? Can we get along without him?” The thought of all the unpaid bills that already cluttered the parlor mantel upset her further. Would going to debtor’s prison be better or worse than sneaking up to Powerscourt to appease her keeper? Infinitely better, she finally confirmed, for there at least, even in some dark cell, she would be able to hold onto a little of
her pride. If she sacrificed herself to Ivan, she would have none at all.

“We shall never speak to him again,” Evvie vowed, obviously shocked by her disclosure.

“No, and I daresay even if we wanted to we shall never get the opportunity. He’s through with us. No one shall marry me after what happened this afternoon gets bandied about in the pubs.”

“We shall tell them he forced himself upon you!”

Suddenly Lissa quieted. Huge, silent tears slipped from her blue eyes. She fell back onto the bed and clutched her pillow. She couldn’t even look at her sister.

“He didn’t force me, Evvie.”

Lissa thought of Ivan’s kiss and of all the emotion that had roiled inside of her during it. She had wanted him, and she couldn’t deny it. She had wanted the kiss to go on and on, and she had wanted to press herself so closely into Ivan’s embrace that they would join completely and forever. There was a need in her that had lain dormant for five years, waiting for just that kind of blossoming. Now that she’d experienced it, the thought of never having it again caused her unspeakable anguish. Yet the thought of continuing led her to the blackest of thoughts.