Youre late. His voice was deep and as replete with ennui as his manner.
Sidonie had expected to be frightened. She hadnt expected to be angry as well. This mans palpable lack of interest in his victim stirred outrage, powerful as a cleansing tide. The journey took longer than expected. She was so furious, her hands were steady when they slid her hood back. The weather disapproves of your nefarious schemes, Mr. Merrick.
As she uncovered her features, she had the grim satisfaction of watching the boredom leach from his expression, replaced by astonished curiosity. He straightened and glared down the table at her.
Just who in hell are you?
The girl, whoever the devil she was, didnt flinch at Jonass irascible question. Under disheveled coffee-colored hair, her face was pale and beautiful in the heavy-lidded, voluptuous manner.
He had to give her credit. She must be scared out of her wits, not to mention as cold as a cat locked out in a snowstorm, yet she stood calm as a marble monument.
Not quite. If he looked closely, faint color marked her cheeks. She was far from the indomitable creature she struggled to appear.
And she was young. Too young to tangle with a cynical, self-serving scoundrel like Jonas Merrick.
At the bella incognitas side, Mrs. Bevan wrung her wrinkled hands. Maister, ee said to expect a lady. When she knocked
Its all right, Mrs. Bevan. Without shifting his gaze from his visitor, he waved dismissal. He should be piqued that his original prey evaded his snare, but curiosity swamped anger. Just who was this incomparable? Leave us.
But do ee expect another lady tonight?
A wry smile twisted his lips. I think not. He cast an assessing glance over the silent girl. Ill ring when I require you, Mrs. Bevan.
Muttering displeasure under her breath, the housekeeper stumped away, leaving him alone with his guest. I take it the delightful Roberta is otherwise occupied, he said in a silky tone.
The girls full lips flattened. She must be repulsed by his scarseveryone wasbut apart from a slight stiffening of her posture when shed entered, her composure was remarkable. The delightful Roberta had known him for years and still reacted with trembling horror at every encounter.
Thwarted malice darkened his mood. Hed rather looked forward to teaching his cousins wife to endure his presence without suffering the megrims. This impetuous beautys arrival dashed those hopes. He wondered idly whether shed offer adequate compensation for his disappointment. Hard to tell. So little of her was visible under the worn cape dripping puddles onto his floor.
My name is Sidonie Forsythe. The girl spat out the introduction and her chin tilted insolently. He was too far away to see the color of her eyes but he knew they sparked resentment. Under delicate brows, they were large and slanted, lending her an exotic appearance. Im Lady Hillbrooks younger sister.
My condolences, he said drily. Ah, he knew who she was now. Hed heard an unmarried Forsythe sister lived at Barstowe Hall, his cousins family seat, although hed never encountered her in person.
He sought and failed to find any resemblance to her sister. Roberta, Viscountess Hillbrook, was a celebrated beauty, but in the conventional English style. This girl with her dusky hair and air of untapped sensuality was in a different class altogether. His interest sharpened, although he made sure he sounded as if her arrival were the dullest event imaginable. Where is Roberta on this fine night? If I havent mistaken the date, wed arranged to enjoy a week of each others company.
A hint of triumph lit the girls face, made her dark beauty blaze like a torch. My sister is beyond your reach, Mr. Merrick.
Youre not. He flavored his smile with menace.
Her brief smugness evaporated. No.
I imagine you offer yourself in her place. Gallant, if a tad presumptuous to assume any random woman meets my requirements. He sipped his wine with an insouciance designed to irk this chit whod upset his wicked plans. Im afraid the obligation isnt yours. Your sister incurred the gaming debt, not you. Charming as Im sure you are.
Her slender throat moved as she swallowed. Yes, definitely jittery underneath the bravado. He wasnt a good enough man to pity this valiant girl. But for a discomfiting instant, something within him winced with fellow feeling. Hed been young and afraid in his time. He remembered how it felt to pretend courage while dread crippled the heart.
Relentlessly he mashed the unwelcome empathy down into the dank hollow where he caged all his old, evil memories.
Im your payment, Mr. Merrick. Her voice emerged with impressive coolness. Brava, incognita. If you dont collect your winnings from me, the debt becomes moot.
Says Roberta.
Honor forbids
He released a harsh crack of laughter and saw the girl quail at last, from his mockery, not his horror of a face. Honor holds no sway in this house, Miss Forsythe. If your sister cannot pay with her body, she must pay in the more usual way.
Her tone hardened. You are well aware my sister cannot cover her losses.
Your sisters dilemma.
I suspect you knew that when you lured her into such deep play. Youre using Roberta to trump Lord Hillbrook.
Oh, cruel accusation, he said with theatrical dismay, however accurate her suspicions. He hadnt set out that night to entrap Roberta into adultery, but the occasion would have tempted a much better man than Jonas Merrick. Especially as hed always known that Robertas disdain for him included an unhealthy dollop of fascination. Offering yourself as substitute is a devilish strong demonstration of sisterly devotion.
The girl didnt answer. He rose and prowled down the room. If Im to accept this exchange, I should see what Im getting. Roberta may be a henwit, but shes a deuced decorative henwit.
Shes not a henwit. Miss Forsythe edged away, then stopped to ask suspiciously, What are you doing, Mr. Merrick?
His advance didnt falter. Unwrapping my gift, Miss Forsythe.
Unwr? This time she didnt bother hiding her retreat. No.
His lips curled in sardonic amusement. You mean to wear your wet cloak all night?
The color in her cheeks intensified. She really was pretty with her creamy skin and full-lipped mouth. Now that he was close enough to look into her eyes, he saw they were a deep, velvety brown, like pansies. Sexual interest stirred. Nothing quite so strong as arousal, but curiosity that could soon become hunger.
Yes. I mean, no. She raised a shaking hand in its black leather glove. Youre trying to intimidate me.
He still smiled. If I am, Id say Im succeeding.
She drew herself up to her full height. She was tall for a woman, but didnt come near to matching his more than six feet. I told you why Im here. I wont fight you. Theres no need to play the villain from an opera.
Youll endure my distasteful caresses but wont let me take your cloak? Seems a little silly.
She stopped backing away, purely because she bumped into the stone wall behind her. Her eyes flared gold with anger. Dont mock me.
Why not? he asked lazily. He reached to release the ties at her throat.
Why not? he asked lazily. He reached to release the ties at her throat.
She pressed into the wall in a futile attempt to escape. I dont like it.
Youll get used to it. His hands brushed along her shoulders, feeling trembling tension beneath the saturated wool. Before were done, youll get used to a great deal.
Bleak self-awareness hardened her expression. I imagine youre right.
The amusement left his voice. Roberta isnt worth this, you know.
The girlMiss Forsythe, Sidoniestared back without shying away. Yes, she is. You dont understand.
I daresay I dont. If the wench was determined to rush to perdition, who was he to argue? Especially as she smelled agreeably of rain and a faint evocative hint of woman. When he slid the cape from her shoulders and let it fall in a sodden heap, he revealed a body pleasingly curved to fit his hands.
She gasped as the garment slipped, then stood quivering. Her jaw set with truculent determination. Im ready.
I doubt you are, bella. He paid closer attention to her clothing and spoke with genuine horror. What on earth have you got on?
The look she shot him indicated virulent dislike. Whats wrong with it?
He cast a disapproving glance over the ruffled white muslin, too young for her, too light for the wretched night, too unfashionable, tooeverything. Nothing, if youre dressing to play the virgin sacrifice.
Why not? she said with a revival of spirit. I am a virgin.
He rolled his eyes. Of course you are. Which begs the question why youre presenting me with your maidenhead instead of letting your fool sister clean up her own mess.
Youre offensive, sir.
He muffled a laugh. She proved more amusing than Roberta. At the very least, Roberta would have treated him to a display of hysterics by now. He couldnt picture this grave goddess resorting to such dramatics. Perhaps this was his lucky night after all. His lurking frustration at Robertas maneuvers, fading under the influence of this lovely girls defiance, vanished. Trapping Roberta had been no great challenge, however satisfying the prospect of swiving his loathed cousins wife. Seducing Sidonie Forsythe promised fine sport indeed.
Its my best dress, Miss Forsythe said huffily.
He subjected the limp frill at her décolletage to a derisive flick. Perhaps when you were fifteen. His gaze sharpened. Just how old are you?
Twenty-four, she muttered. How old are you?
Too old for you. At thirty-two, perhaps he wasnt too old in years but he was a million years too old in experience. And he hadnt spent those million years wisely.
Sudden hope lit her expression. Does that mean youll let me go?
This time he laughed openly. Not on your life.
Her spiking fear might send her scarpering. He curled one hand around her shoulder, bare under her flimsy bodice. At the contact, something inexplicable arced between them. When startled pansy eyes shot up to meet his, he tumbled headlong into soft brown. She trembled as his hold gentled to shape the graceful curve of bone and sinew.
What are you waiting for? she forced through stiff lips.
He should be horsewhipped for tormenting her, but still curiosity was paramount. He raised his other hand to her jaw, angling her face. This close, he could make out each individual eyelash and the gold striations in her rich irises. Her nostrils flared as though she took in his scent just as he took in hers.
Or perhaps she was so frightened, she struggled to breathe.
The question is whether debauching my enemys sister-in-law has quite the same cachet as debauching my enemys wife, he murmured.
You bastard, she hissed, her breath warm across his face.
He smiled as dread lit her eyes. Precisely, belladonna.
Slowly he bent to place his mouth on hers. Her rain-fresh scent flooded his senses, made him giddy with anticipation. She didnt move away and her lips remained sealed, but the satiny warmth intoxicated him.
He slid his lips against hers in what was more the hint of a kiss than an actual kiss. Even as arousal pounded through him, insisting that he take her, that she was here to be taken, he kept the contact light, teasing. Nor did he tighten his grip on her shoulder to keep her under his mouth. The agony of suspense bordered on the delicious as he waited for her to wrench free, to curse him for a scoundrel. But she remained still as a china figurine. Except the subtle heat under his lips belonged to a woman, not unresponsive porcelain.
Before more than a second passed, he raised his head. Astounding how reluctant he was to end the unsatisfying kiss. He dragged in an unsteady breath and struggled against the powerful urge to kiss her properly. There mightnt be much cachet in fucking Lord Hillbrooks sister-in-law, but he had a grim feeling that wouldnt stop him.
Her eyes were wide and dark with shock. Because hed kissed her? Or because for a fleeting instant, she might have enjoyed it?
Why the hesitation? Her tone was raw. Get it over with.
He tapped her cheek with a chiding index finger. I havent had my dinner yet, he said mildly and released her.
She staggered but found her balance with impressive speed. Breath escaped her parted lips in unsteady gasps. He preferred her outrage to her vulnerability. Against his will, her vulnerability ate at his ruthlessness like rust on iron. Wont you join me?
She regarded him with well-deserved hatred. Im not hungry.
Pity. Youll need your strength later.
He let that sink in while he sat and rang the bell. Mrs. Bevan appeared with astonishing speed. Shed probably been listening at the door. Entertainment at Castle Craven was so lacking, he hardly blamed her.
You may serve dinner, Mrs. Bevan, he said with a cheerfulness that earned him a puzzled glance from his housekeeper.
Aye, maister. And for yon lady?
Miss Forsythe remained standing where she had when hed kissed her. She was back to looking like a marble statue, but now that hed touched her, he knew she was flesh and blood, all right.
Two?
The girl didnt react. Good Lord, had that kiss silenced her clever tongue? He hoped to coax her into using it again. Not for idle conversation.
He addressed Mrs. Bevan. No, for one. Please show the lady to her room. Mr. Bevan can serve my meal.
Aye, maister. The woman shuffled out and after a brief hesitation, the girl collected her meager luggage and followed.
Jonas wished he could be there when Miss Forsythe discovered that in this ramshackle pile, her room also served as his.
Chapter Two
In the elaborate four-poster bed, Sidonie huddled under the covers. Outside, the gale tore at the castle walls. Its roar made her feel even more defenseless. Fear had hounded her since Roberta had come to her at Barstowe Hall two days ago and begged for help. Fear cramped her stomach and lodged like a boulder in her throat. Fear tasted foul in her mouth.
Second thoughts came too late. Whatever Merrick did to Sidonie couldnt compare to the consequences if William discovered his wife had shared his enemys bed. Robertas recklessness had placed them all in jeopardy. Sidonie. Roberta. Robertas two children, Nicholas and Thomas. But how could Sidonie maintain her anger? Roberta had been more mother than sister when the two Forsythe girls had lived under their parents negligent regime. Then Roberta had exchanged her fathers cold, sarcastic tyranny for her husbands cruelty. Over eight years of marriage, Roberta had changed from a vivacious, affectionate girl into a nervy shadow. The only time Sidonie glimpsed a trace of Robertas former gaiety was if she won at the gaming tables.