When the Rogue Returns (10 page)

“I’m fine, Rupert,” Isa said as she took the arm Victor offered. “Your cousin and I will take a little walk and be right back. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

He’d succeeded in provoking her, thank God! He’d spotted an unoccupied box a few boxes over, perfect for a private discussion, so this time he would make sure she gave him solid answers.

As soon as they were in the hall, she said, “Speaking
of lies, you’re not really her ladyship’s cousin, are you?”

He wasn’t about to reveal what he’d been hired to do, since that might spook her into fleeing. “You’re the one who remarked that I never told you about my family,” he said evasively. “You’re right. I didn’t.”

“So you really expect me to believe that you’re cousin to a Scottish baron.” Her voice turned acid. “And not that you’re insinuating yourself into her life for some devious purpose.”

They’d reached the other box, so he dragged her inside and pulled her behind a pillar where no one could see them from the theater. Thrusting her against it, he braced his hands on either side of her shoulders to glare down at her.

“My devious purpose is to unmask my wife,” he growled. “You can hardly blame me when I find her frolicking with a rich baron.”

“Frolicking?”
she exclaimed, half laughing. “Are you mad? I keep telling you, Rupert and I are just friends!”

“You’re either blind or a fool.” He lowered his head. “He watches you whenever he thinks you don’t see. He stares at you as a man stares at a beautiful woman. Perhaps
you
consider him a mere friend, but I assure you, he does not. I’m a man—I can damned well tell when another man covets my wife.”

Her stunned expression told him that she truly hadn’t realized that Rupert’s feelings for her ran that deep.

Then she steadied her shoulders. “Even if you’re right, even if he does have an interest in me, why do you care? You don’t want me, so—”

“Don’t want you?” he said incredulously before he could stop himself. His eyes fixed on her mouth, and his heart began to thunder in his chest. “Now you really
are
a fool.”

Then, driven by the rampant need that had been boiling up in his blood ever since he’d seen her this afternoon, he seized her mouth with his.

♦  ♦  ♦

I
SA FROZE AT
the touch of his lips on hers. She ought to fight. She ought to shove him away. But years of wishing for this very moment kept her motionless. His mouth was exactly as she remembered, tender and needy, driving her blood into a fever. His hands moved to grip her head and she covered them with her own, fully intending to push them away.

Instead, she rose into his kiss, parted her lips for him, let him slide his tongue into her mouth to tantalize and tease her. It was the most exquisite madness. And she didn’t want it to end.

Suddenly they were young again, stealing kisses wherever they could, too hungry to wait for later, when they could be alone. He drank from her mouth with a slow knowing that roused her blood, and she let him, the way she’d always let him in the old days.

After a moment of heady, silken kisses, he whispered against her lips, almost reverently, “Isa,
my
Isa.” Then, as if reminded of what stood between them, he said in a harder voice, “My little temptress.”

And this time when his mouth took hers, it was no
longer tender. It was hard and fierce and raw, taking what it wanted with no apologies. The scent of him swamped her as he thrust his tongue into her mouth over and over, more savage than sweet.

Which thrilled her even more. The husband she’d once adored was here in her arms at last. He’d hunted her down, and he was kissing her as if ten years were but a pebble in the ocean. She exulted in it, mad fool that she was.

She slid her hands into his beautiful hair, holding him tight, not wanting to let him go. With a groan, he skimmed his fingers down her neck to brush her shoulders, then moved them lower to cup both her breasts.

A wild fever erupted in her brain. She pressed herself into his hands, and that was all the encouragement he needed to fondle her shamelessly. She felt it even through her gown and corset and shift, felt her nipples bead beneath his deft caresses. It had been so long, so very long, and he was here and she wanted him so badly she could taste it.

He must have felt the same way, for with a groan he undulated against her, his hardened shaft reminding her of the last time they’d made love, the last time he’d been inside her, the last time—

“Ah,
Mausi,
” he murmured. “My sweet
Mausi.
”

The word resounded in her brain, a chant from years ago that no longer held true.

She shoved him back. “Stop,” she hissed. “I am not your
Mausi
anymore. If you wanted to keep your
Mausi,
you shouldn’t have abandoned me.”

His dazed expression gave way to hot, hard anger. “
You
were the one who called our marriage a mistake.
You
were the one who said you wanted more than I could offer, who said you were going off to find a better position.” His eyes glittered at her. “When actually, you were running off to spend the money you made from those stolen diamonds.”

She gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

Pure rage flared in his eyes. “You know damned well what I’m talking about.”

Her breath felt heavy, thick. “I don’t. Truly I don’t.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “So you’re denying the theft? Denying that you made that imitation diamond parure so you and your bloody family could steal the royal diamonds?”

Why did he keep talking as if the theft was her and her family’s fault alone?

“I’m denying that I ever called our marriage a mistake,” she said in a low hiss. “I don’t know where you got such nonsense, but I never said any such thing. I was in love with you. Why would I have—”

Lady Lochlaw’s voice drifted through the door from out in the hall. “I’m sure they’re around here somewhere, Rupert. Do not fret so.”

“But the second act is about to start,” Rupert said peevishly. “We have to find them.”

“Well, you can hunt for them if you must. I’m going back to the box.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Alarm seized her. She did
not
want Rupert specu
lating about her association with Victor, a supposed stranger. “I have to go,” she murmured, turning for the door.

Victor caught her by the arm and lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Tell me where you live, and I’ll come to you later tonight. We have to talk.”

“That’s not what you want, and you know it.” He wanted to kiss and fondle her to distraction, to slip back into her life so he could get her to make more imitations.

You
were the one who called our marriage a mistake.
You
were the one who said you wanted more than I could offer, who said you were going off to find a better position.

She swallowed hard. He’d spoken the words with such conviction. But she’d never said any such thing to him! His memory was playing tricks on him.

Oh, why was she even listening to him? She
knew
what sort of man he was. She must hold fast against him. If he came to the cottage he would find out about Amalie and use her against Isa, too.

“Tell me, damn you,” Victor hissed. “You can’t keep running from me.”

Rupert was calling her now, and the longer she waited to answer, the more curious he would become.

She stared up at Victor. “Tell me where
you
are staying, and I’ll come to
you
.”

He froze. Then, with a foul curse, he glanced away.

Anger seared her. He was hiding his purpose here, whatever it was. “That’s what I thought.” Wrenching her arm free, she headed for the door.

“We are not done, Isa,” he growled.

“For now, we are.” She called out, “I’m here, Rupert!”

The door opened, and Rupert thrust his head inside. The clear suspicion on his face made her stomach roil. Could Victor be right about him? Was the baron not as oblivious to her feminine attributes as she’d assumed?

“What are you two doing in here alone?” he demanded.

“The best view of the theater is from this box.” Better to lie to him than risk hurting him. “And since it was empty, we thought to take a look.”

He seemed to accept that. “Well, you’d better come along. The second act is about to begin.” His gaze flitted behind her. “You too, cousin.”

She could feel Victor’s presence like a hot brand against her back, and for half a second, she feared he would say something to ruin everything.

Then she heard Victor release a breath. “I’ll be along presently. I want to enjoy the view a moment longer,” he said in that husky voice that made her stomach flip over.

That was the trouble. He could still reduce her to mush with just a word, which made him dangerous. Because once she let him into her life, once he knew about their daughter, there would be no going back.

Rupert whisked her from the room. “Are you all right?” he asked as soon as they were in the hall. “You look flushed.”

She resisted the urge to press her hands to her hot cheeks. An idea struck. “Actually, I’m feeling unwell.
Would you mind terribly leaving the play now and taking me home?”

“I’d be happy to,” he surprised her by saying.

She eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure?” Rupert tended to follow rules slavishly, and one of those rules was that people did not leave theaters before the performance was finished.

“Of course I’m sure,” he said resentfully. “What sort of gentleman would I be if I forced you to stay here and suffer?”

“Thank you, then. It’s very kind of you.” She tamped down a niggle of guilt at deceiving him.

Tomorrow she’d take Amalie to Carlisle on the mail coach, and her daughter would be safe. Then, and only then, she could concentrate on finding out why Victor was so determined to invade her life.

V
ICTOR SPENT THE
next day with the Lochlaws, because he had no way of finding Isa. The sly wench had slipped away from the theater while he was trying to regain his composure, so he’d been unable to follow her home. She might not like being called
Mausi
anymore, but she certainly had a mouse’s talent for sneaking out of one’s grasp.

But he would find her. Tomorrow he’d wait at the shop until she arrived, and then he’d
make
her give him answers.

I’m denying that I ever called our marriage a mistake. I don’t know where you got such nonsense, but I never said any such thing.

Those words seared a hole in his brain even as he attended church services with the Lochlaws. There’d been no mistaking the shock on her face. No mistaking how she’d glossed over the theft to focus on his words about their marriage.

I was in love with you.

As his throat tightened, he cursed his easy reaction. He knew better than to believe her. She’d wanted access to the diamonds and had seen how he’d wanted
her
. In his life, in his bed.

He still wanted her. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t some randy young idiot anymore; how could she still do this to him?

No doubt she’d said those words to distract him, to keep him from hounding her about the theft. Though it was odd that she hadn’t denied making the imitation parure. Or at least pretended outrage at his accusation. That wasn’t the behavior of a criminal avoiding culpability.

Still, she hadn’t admitted to doing it, either. She’d danced around the subject, but the fact that she even knew of it meant she’d been part of it somehow.

Didn’t it?

Damnation, the inconsistencies in her behavior, her character, were eating at him. He had to get to the bottom of it!

Sunday droned on into a dinner with the Lochlaws. Lady Lochlaw clearly saw her son as little more than a child to be managed, and in her presence, he became one—sulking at the dining table, mumbling answers to her barbed questions, and toying with his food.

Until her ladyship suggested that he and Victor take a walk about town. Once they were out of the house, Lochlaw’s entire demeanor changed. He became friendly, expansive, chatty. He didn’t even seem to be upset about finding Victor and Isa together the night
before. Perhaps she’d been right. Perhaps the man really did just regard her as a friend.

They headed toward Edinburgh Castle, which Lochlaw insisted that he visit. “You can view the entire city from the Battery,” the young baron gushed. “And you should also see the regalia, which is on display. The crown itself . . .”

Victor could barely attend the man’s prattling. All his thoughts were for Isa—where she was, how he could find her.

He waited until they’d visited all the public areas of the great castle and were walking down High Street toward the Palace of Holyrood House before he broached the subject.

“Where is Mrs. Franke today?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Lochlaw turned instantly nervous. “I dunno. I never see her on Sundays. Mother insists I spend Sunday with her.”

“Ah.”

They walked a moment in silence. Then Lochlaw surprised him by asking, “What do you think of Mrs. Franke?”