A Gamble Worth Taking

A Gamble Worth Taking an historical novel of erotic romance by

Wendy Stone

Phaze 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222 This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. eBook ISBN 1-59426-942-4 A Gamble Worth Taking © 2007 by Wendy Stone All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Cover art © 2007 by Debi Lewis Edited by Kent Miller Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

www.Phaze.com

Chapter One The rough wooden door splintered under the pounding of her fists, gashing her flesh. Pain radiated up her arms but was forgotten instantly as Lara kept beating at the door, praying that someone, anyone, would come and free her from this place. Someone, or anyone but him. Matthew Trent, Fourth Duke of Marshalling, was the reason she was behind these doors, locked in a chamber high in the tower of his castle. He was the reason she was trapped here, unable to escape, unable to leave this place of horrors. She was to be forced into marriage, the contract having been signed and validated by powerful people, leaving her no recourse but to be brought to this place. It was her father's fault. If not for his stubborn refusal to quit the life of a debauched gambler and the debts that he had acquired, she would not be here now, a prisoner of the worst rogues that court had ever seen. Lord Matthew had a penchant for seducing young virgins and leaving them, soiled and spoiled, to be rushed into quickly contracted marriages. He drank and gambled, but, unlike her father, Lord Matthew had a way with a wager, never leaving a table as a loser. His prowess with both women and cards was legendary, as was his skill with the sword and pistol. He had come to their home, a small, modest manor very unlike the huge castle that was his own residence He'd come to retrieve what he was owed by her father. Money that they did not have and had no way of acquiring, for her father's friends and family had cut them off without a cent. With his high hat and starched cravat, deep claret-colored coat and fawn-colored breeches, Lord Matthew had been the epitome of the dashing young lord. In this instance, the clothes didn't make the man, though they did frame well what the good Lord had blessed him with. Black hair, rich and thick, curled past his shoulders, clubbed back and tied with a black ribbon. High cheekbones under taut skin, and a thin, aristocratic nose that sat

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

above lips that were just a trifle too wide. Ebony brows slashed across a wide forehead, and thickly lashed eyes that were a piercing shade of green seemed to see all with barely a glance. He'd been shown into their parlor by their one servant, a woman who'd been with them since before Lara's mother's death ten years before. She'd taken over raising Lara and her little sister Kathleen, as her father had lost interest in his daughters with the death of his beloved wife. The servant, Mary, was too old to go and find a new post and stayed with the family despite the fact that she hadn't been paid in years. If Lara had only known, she would have stayed in her room that day instead of investigating the raised voice of her father. The curse of curiosity had been stamped on her early in life, always leading her down the path of trouble, and that day was no different. She had crept down the stairs, carefully maneuvering around the third riser that would have snapped and popped, giving her presence away. Slipping carefully past the door to the parlor, she'd peered inside, staring at the back of her father's head as he yelled and gesticulated to the man who sat in the big leather chair in front of the fire that must have been started just for him. Lara felt her heart leap in her breast as she stared at the handsome lord, for he truly was a most pleasing specimen to look upon. His eyes were incredible, inscrutable, as was his expression as he listened to her father make his many excuses and rage about the hand he had been dealt. She must have made some small noise, for he suddenly turned her way, spotting her in the open doorway and freezing her to the spot. She felt a thrill of fear, for his expression was no longer that of the bored lord. No, he stared at her with a smile that spoke of other things than boredom, things that she knew nothing about at her tender age. Things that she could only guess at as she felt a shiver of terror as his eyes slid down her body. With a gasp, she forced herself away, turning to flee up the stairs, jumping over that third riser and rushing to her room. Throwing herself upon her bed, she pushed down her long skirts and buried her heated face into her palms. There had been something there, something in his eyes that had made her feel dirty and ashamed. She would have to ask her father who he was, for the man had scared her, not a feeling she was used to, as she was the one to whom all the problems of the manor fell upon. She didn't know how long she laid there before she realized that the loud and raucous voice of her father was silent now, though she hadn't heard the door close behind the strange visitor. Getting up, she went to the

5

WENDY STONE

pitcher that sat on the small stand, and poured some water into the basin, rinsing her face and hands with the cool liquid. As she was wiping them dry on the ragged towel left for that purpose, there was a knock upon her door. Mary opened it at her bidding. "Milady, you are wanted in the parlor," she said. "Mary, is that man still here?" Lara asked. "Yes, milady. A fine gent he is, too, a duke or an earl, I believe." She bobbed a quick curtsey and left the room, now that her message had been delivered. "A fine gentleman," Lara repeated softly, her hand at her breast as her heart beat rapidly, as if trying to flee from her body. Taking a deep breath, she went to her dressing table and picked up her brush, quickly taming the blonde mass of curls that resisted her efforts. She thought of changing her gown for the better one, the one she kept to go to mass or to tea if they were invited, but decided against it. Her father would be up here himself to drag her down to the parlor if she didn't come in goodly time. Brushing her skirts into place, she took a deep breath and left the safety of her room once more, descending the stairs in a much more refined manner than she had before. She tapped on the parlor door and then stepped inside, her head bowed as she waited for her father to bid her to speak. "Here she is, your grace, here she is." Her father sounded as if he and the duke, or was it earl, had debated upon her arrival. And now that she was here, he was rubbing his hands in glee. "Stand tall, girl, raise your head and let his grace get a good look at you." Lara did as she was bid, lifting her chin and letting her shaking hands clasp in front of her skirt. She felt the eyes of her father's guest upon her, and stiffened her resolve. She would not let either man see her fear for her father was known for his little tortures. Lara could sense it would give him much pleasure to break her resolve this day, in front of this man. She didn't know what their guest was thinking, but he took his time with his inspection of her person, finally rising to walk with a limping gait toward her. Lara met his eyes, feeling the power of his green gaze, and fought not to turn away. She wanted to, for the things she saw there were frightening. As he came toward her, she lifted her chin, finding that he was so much taller than she, much taller than she had expected. **** Matthew's gaze roamed over the beautiful girl standing in the doorway, his eyes widening. She was lovely, graceful and vivid, nothing

6

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

like the man standing before him. "She is a fine looking girl, Edward. But what would I do with the insipid miss?" he asked, his voice bored, his stance languid, belying the depth of attraction that pulled at him. Golden curls had escaped their pins and tumbled around her with an artless beauty, skin as pale as ivory and as flawless as silk blushed under his inspection. Her eyes, when they met his, had seemed hazel but as he came closer, they turned amber with a dark brown ring circling the iris. A pert nose and lush, full lips completed the picture in a heart-shaped face blessed with a pointed, stubborn looking chin. The gown she wore was horrid, unflattering, and plain. She should be dressed in satins and silk, velvets and lace, with diamonds dripping from her pretty ears and caressing the long length of her neck. He could see her in midnight blue velvet with a plunging neckline that made the most of her exquisite breasts, the color causing her skin to gleam like a pearl. She was petite and curvaceous, though thin. He would have to fatten her up some if he took her with him. "You said your family was after you to wed, your grace. My family is related to royalty, though we have fallen upon difficult times. If you were to take my daughter as your wife, her bride's price could be the amount that was agreed upon." "A wife?" Matthew asked, his voice breaking with laughter. "What would I do with one of those? They cling and whine and are inordinately annoying if the truth were to be told." But even as he laughed off the suggestion he realized the merit of the man's ideas. She was a timid lass and would probably be happy shipped off to his country estate once he tired of using her body to slake his lusts. She would make a lovely hostess for the balls and parties his family was hounding him to have so that he could launch his three younger sisters into society. He needed sons to pass his title and lands down to, though he had no plans to die for many years. Matthew walked around the girl once more, his hands clasped in thought, one finger tapping his lips as he mused over the idea. "Wife?" the girl gasped, staring at her father with a look of horror. She'd thought to meet and marry a tender and gentle young man, one who would love her and care for her. Not someone like this dark lord whose gaze seemed to strip her bare and make her feel wanting. "You cannot be serious, father."

7

WENDY STONE

"Quiet, girl. Do as you are bid. This matter does not concern you." Edward said. "But you promised that I would marry someone I loved. You said nothing of this…this farce, father. How could you do this?" Lara argued, stepping forward as if to emphasize her point. Matthew's eyes lit as he saw her argue with her father. There was some spirit in her after all. It would be a pleasure to teach her a wife's place in and out of bed. "I suppose that the idea does show value. Fine, have her things packed. I shall send a coach to bring you both to my estate where the papers shall be signed and the banns posted." He stepped closer to the girl, causing her to tip her head back to stare up at him. With a grin, he dropped a kiss upon her nose, startling her so that she took a step back. "We shall deal well together, ah," he looked at Edward. "Lara, your grace. Lara Elizabeth Ashley Maitland." "Lara, yes, we shall deal well with each other." He stepped back, bowing quickly and left the room. As he was handed his hat at the door, he heard her voice ring out in tones of anger that made him smile. "You've just sold me in marriage to a man who didn't even know my name, father. How could you?" **** The coach had come as Matthew had promised, and Lara was loaded aboard as if she were just so much baggage, her arguments and recriminations ignored. She'd thought to run but had found herself locked in her room with the order to pack her things or find them left behind and sold off for what they would bring if she didn't, and then the door was locked and she was left to stew. She'd packed her few belongings, her books and the locket she'd managed to keep hidden from her father—it had belonged to her mother. Her other gown was folded and placed with care in the small valise she'd been given, a drawing done by her sister Kathleen went on top and that was it, all she had in this world. She'd had no other choice; stubbornness would have meant losing everything. Lara hadn't even been allowed to wish her sister good-bye, though Kathleen sat in the window in the parlor and waved as the coach had driven off. When they'd reached their destination, a huge castle that could be seen from a great distance, Lara thought she'd disgrace herself and be sick. She was terrified, more than she'd ever been before. Her life had gone

8

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

careening out of orbit. Instead of being in charge, she was now the one being ordered about. Her father had helped her out of the coach, taking her arm in his fat fingers and pulling her up the long stairs that led to the massive front entry of the castle. A footman stood in attendance, opening the door and allowing them inside where he took Lara's tattered cloak, holding it gingerly and folding it across his arm. "His lordship is waiting for you. Please follow me," another footman spoke up, ushering them through a massive entryway that opened up into a hall large enough to fit their entire home. Lara stared in awe at the exquisite detailing of the frescoed ceiling, at the curving staircase that was wide enough for an army to climb in formation. She longed to gaze at the many fine paintings that graced the silk-covered walls, and at the tiny portraits done on ivory disks that sat upon delicate rosewood tables. Marble floors were polished to a high gleam, showing off veins of pure silver that ran through them. For just an instant, Lara wished she could stop and study the paintings and sculptures, and enjoy the wealth of creative talent that was housed in the grand entryway. But that was not to be the case. Her father took her arm, half dragging her behind the footman that led the way to where the duke was waiting to greet them. The room they were taken to was obviously used as a library as row upon row of books were shelved to reach the high ceilings. There were bookcases on every wall, interspersed with floor to ceiling windows and a huge fireplace where a roaring fire was laid, warming the large room wonderfully. Lara felt her heart leap at the sight of all those books, a veritable orgy of delight to the senses for those who had the intelligence to glean meaning from their printed words. Then she spotted the duke, settled in behind a large teak wood desk, a stack of papers in front of him. He looked up as the footman knocked on the door, giving them permission to enter before returning to the pages in front of him. "Sir Edward Maitland, your grace, and his daughter, Lady Lara," the footman announced. "Thank you, Jeffrey," Matthew said. "Have Mrs. Owens bring in a tray, please." He studied his papers for a few moments after Jeffrey had closed the doors behind them, then looked up at his guests. "Please, be seated. I was just going over the required paperwork and contracts to make sure my

9

WENDY STONE

solicitor had drawn them up properly. I think you'll find all is in order." He slid the papers across his desk, waiting for Edward to pick them up. "It but requires your signature, Edward. I've made arrangements for the banns to be posted for the next three Sundays hence and until that time, Lara shall remain here with me." "But, your grace, the scandal would..." Matthew interrupted, waving his hand through the air as if waving away the objections. "I've thought of the scandal, Edward. Lord, man, you know me by reputation if not by contact. Would you think me too daft to ignore my wife-to-be's sterling reputation?" "No, your grace," Edward said, the denial quick and fawning as he stood before the desk. "I just wish to know what means you have put into play to protect my girl." Matthew's lips curved in a twist of derision, his disgust evident in his eyes as he stared at the short toad of a man before him. "Your girl will be my wife in but three weeks time, Edward, and is none of your concern as soon as you sign those papers." He opened the top drawer of the desk, picking up a small pouch and weighing it with a quick toss of his hand. It clinked inside, drawing Edward's gaze. "This is for your trouble, a reward if you like, and also the last money you shall see from me, ever," he said. "Now sign the papers and get yourself gone from my sight. I wish never to see you again, Edward." Edward, his face pale, scooped up the pouch that had been tossed on the desk and thrust it into the pocket of his coat before taking the quill offered to him by Lord Matthew. With a quick flourish, he signed his name beside the 'X' left for him, dating the document and handing back the pen. Lara waited for her father to turn to her, to speak some word of caring or compassion. Instead, the man hurried toward the door, glancing fearfully behind himself once, as if afraid Lord Matthew would change his mind and wish the whole situation undone. When the doors closed behind her father, Lara felt betrayal and despair as her only parent sold her to pay his debts and for the money to feed the illness that had changed him so drastically. He'd once been a loving and kind father, devoted to their mother, until her death had changed him. He cared for nothing then, not her or her sister, their home or his own life. Only the gambling and the drinking that had become so all important to him.

10

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

She'd found the means to keep the household together until he'd finally gambled away their home and moved them into the small manor house with its cold floors and leaky roof. Even then, she'd persevered, keeping Kathleen and herself safe and as well fed as she could, hiding their few possessions from their father. Now here she was, standing in the richness of this castle, being stared at by a wolf in man's clothing. "And what of me?" she asked, unable to keep the hostility from her voice. The smile on his dark face made her nervous, and she wished she'd kept her mouth closed instead of speaking up. It was a curse that came along with the curiosity, this insufferable need to speak her piece instead of staying in the background as a good wife and daughter did. "What about you, Lara? Would you like to discuss your future with me?" He chuckled and pushed back his chair, coming from behind the desk to stand in front of her. "What will happen to you is this, my dear. We shall be married, you shall submit to me in all things, and, after a suitable period, I shall send you to live on one of my country estates. Of course, I shall pay you visits periodically as it wouldn't do for those in positions of power to believe that I have deserted you and banished you to the far reaches. What would such thoughts do to my reputation?" He chuckled again, running one finger down her soft cheek. Lara jerked away from his touch, backing away from him. He followed, stalking her with a cynical twist to his smile. "You can't get away from me, my dear. You've been given to me, signed and delivered." "Why?" she asked, her voice breaking though she tried to cover it. "Why would you want me?" "That is a good question, my dear. And one I can answer readily enough. I see what is beyond that ugly hairstyle and tattered gown. You are most desirable. And your father was correct in that my marriage to you will call my family off and make my mother quite happy, especially if she thinks we are glowing with marital bliss." Lara started as she felt the hard knob from the door pressing into her back. "But I don't wish to marry you," she stuttered, trying not to show fear. "It doesn't matter what you wish or don't wish, my dear. I have bought you." His hand came up, his fingers taking a hold of that stubborn chin that gave him such amusement. Staring down into her pretty face, he found himself fighting with an impulse. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her mouth, to sink into her until she learned her place.

11

WENDY STONE

"You are lovely," he moaned, his mouth moving to cover hers even as he felt her tiny fists come up to strike out at him. Lara couldn't move. He held her chin in his hand, his fingers tight against her soft skin. His lips were harsh upon her own, so different from what she'd thought her fist kiss to be, twisting her mouth until it opened and his tongue could probe inside, pushing against her clenched teeth. She felt a sob building and fought against it, pride keeping her from pleading for him to stop. Instead she fought, striking at him with her small hands, kicking at his legs with her slipper-covered feet. Matthew felt the softness of her mouth under his, the sweetness of her breath, the heat of her small body, and seemed to forget where he was. His hand held her still even as his mouth roughly captured hers. He felt her struggles almost as an afterthought, blotted out by the streak of desire that shot through him. A groan, unexpected and embarrassing, tore from his throat and he pushed away from her, backing away to stare at her as if she were some kind of witch. Her hand at her mouth, Lara felt her lips, swollen and bruised from his brutal kisses. Her breasts heaved as she fought for composure, wanting to scream and cry at the blow fate had dealt her. Her hands shook and her body quaked as she wondered how she would fair being his wife, being forced to submit to his wishes as was her wifely duty. "I won't marry you," she whispered, her eyes defiant even as her lips trembled. "I won't stay here with you. I can't," she sobbed, losing her battle for pride. Her hand found the doorknob that was still pressed against her back and turned it, hurrying so as to run for the entryway, her skirts flying up and around her. Matthew followed her. He reached the door just as she was struggling to open it, her hands pulling at the panel, beating upon it when it resisted her every effort to budge it. She felt his hands upon her slender arms and tried to fight, but he was so much larger than her, so much stronger. With a curse, he lifted her easily in his arms. Lara felt him pick her up, the movement so quick that she grew dizzy and light headed. The room spun around her and she blinked her eyes, staring up at him as his face moved in and out of focus. She closed her eyes tightly, a sick nauseated feeling growing in her stomach. She'd already humiliated herself enough, and getting sick and vomiting on him would have been the final straw. He carried her quickly up the long flight of stairs, hurrying down the wide corridor to a smaller darker one. Instead of silk upon the wall, here it

12

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

was stone and mortar, the air carrying a distinct chill. Matthew managed to open a small door close to the end of the corridor and carried her up another flight of stairs, a long spiraling one that lead to a small door at the top. A sickly light came in though the dirty windows that were little more than mere slits in the stone. The room was cold and damp, dirty with disuse. He dropped her legs, letting her slide down his long body until her feet touched the ground. "You find me disgusting, my lady?" he asked. "Yes," she almost spat at him, her hand coming to her head as the dizziness threatened to overwhelm her once more. "You have no wish to marry me?" "None!" she cried, forcing herself to step back and face him. "I find you despicable and loathsome, your grace, and wish nothing more than to go back to my father's home where I will pray that I will never see you again." "We shall see what a few days here in the tower will do to change your mind, my lady. My mother was to send my elder sister to come and chaperon you until our wedding day, but I shall tell her you have decided to stay with your father until that happy, blissful event." He turned toward the door, taking the heavy iron key from its bolt and palming it. With a bow, he headed out the door. "Enjoy your stay, Lara." Then he was gone and the door was shut, the heavy lock turning with a resounding click. She was locked in this strange and dirty place. Panic overwhelmed her and she ran to the door, her fists pounding on the scarred and splintered wood until blood ran in tiny rivulets down her arms. Only then did she manage to stop, sinking down to the dirty floor, her back against the door, her head bent as the tears she'd fought so long began to stream down her face. "How could you, Father?" she sobbed despondently, burying her face in her sore hands. It was the pain that finally brought her out of her despair, pain and the cold that was getting steadily worse. While she still had light enough to see, she had to do something for herself so that she wouldn't freeze and to make herself more comfortable. First, she had to see to her hands. A few splinters still stuck in her flesh, her skin was abraded with nasty scratches and gouges where the splinters had torn out. With a hiss of pain, she pulled the first splinter out, then the next, a tiny whimper escaping as she reached the biggest one.

13

WENDY STONE

Lara bit her lip, grabbing the thin wood with two fingers and pulling quickly. As soon as the splinter was out, blood welled in the long cut that was left, one drop falling from her palm and landing on the skirt of her dress. There was no hope for it; she had to bind her hands. With a sigh of regret, she reached down and carefully ripped a long strip of fabric from the bottom of her skirt, staring at the ragged edge that was left. Then she ripped it in two, using her teeth to pull it apart, then wrapped the strips around her hands, stopping the blood. It would keep the wounds clean, or cleaner than they would be otherwise. Getting to her feet, she felt her head spin again and fought the now familiar feeling. She had sold the last of their saleable items weeks ago. With that gone, they were forced to ration their food, hoping beyond hope that father would finally get that change of luck he was always going on about. But until that time, Mary was old and needed nourishment to continue working, and Kathleen was still just a girl and looked to Lara for her care. She couldn't disappoint either of them. So her portion of the rations had mostly been given to the two of them. It hadn't been bad at first, giving away a few bites of food, and going to bed slightly hungry. But now it had been two days since she'd had anything more than a small slice of bread, filling her gnawing stomach with water to take away the pain of hunger. The gnawing ache was now a pain that was hard to ignore, especially now since she had no water with which to soothe her cramping stomach. She had to do something to take her mind off the pain. Looking around the room, she noted it was mostly empty. A small iron bed, the mattress lumpy looking and covered by a very dusty blanket took up most of the space. In the corner was an old wardrobe, one door hanging half off on one rusty hinge. An ancient rocking chair sat next to the window, as if waiting for its owner to come back and stare out at the view of the rocky hillside. Lara went to the wardrobe, yanking weakly on the door until it opened. Inside, a sheet had been draped loosely across and she started to work to pull it free. The cloud of dust that rose from the sheet made her sneeze and she stepped back to let it settle before peeking into the wardrobe to see what treasure she'd uncovered. With a gasp, she let her hand trail over her discovery, feeling materials of every description she could think of brush her fingertips.

14

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

A pale blue velvet caught her eyes and she pulled it free, cinching the material against her waist with one hand while holding it up against her torso. It would be warm and soft and feel wonderful against her skin, so much more so than the ragged cotton day gown she wore. She shook the gown once, hard, to make sure it was free of any kind of spider or insect, then laid it down across the old bed. Stripping out of her own gown took seconds and then she slipped on the velvet. The gown fit as if made for her, cupping her breasts and holding them tightly, flowing from a darker blue ribbon high on her waist to just cover the toes of her slippers. It had long sleeves that fell from a gathered shoulder and formed a point over the back of her hands, fitting tightly. The gown smelled a little musty, a little like the wardrobe it had been tucked into, but it was warmer and covered more of her than her own little day gown. Now that she was less chilled, she went to work on cleaning up some of the mess, pulling the gowns made from heavier material out of the wardrobe to use as bedding of sorts. She layered them on the lumpy mattress, finally lying down as the last of the light left the room. She must have slept, though she didn't remember falling into slumber, for when she opened her eyes, darkness unlike any she'd felt before was around her. The moon, though high in the sky, was far from being full, its pale light falling short of illuminating the tower. Something had disturbed her sleep, something strong enough to pull her from her exhaustion. Pushing aside a velvet skirt, she sat up and looked around the tower. She heard an eerie creak, then a footstep, but no matter how hard she strained, she could make out no form in the darkness. Suddenly, a slight glow appeared, and a figure, its arms hanging limply at its sides, and its head held at an unnatural angle, seemed to materialize from that glow. The figure, a woman, paid Lara no mind, gliding to the small chair and sitting down. She seemed to be staring out the windows, her eyes searching for something or someone. Just as Lara was working up the nerve to say something, the figure rose once more, her hands reaching behind her neck as if unclasping an object, and then she seemed to throw herself through the window, the glass shattering around her body, the sound of her scream cut off suddenly as she hit the rocks far below. Lara jumped out of the bed, a scream escaping her own mouth, and ran toward the window, her hands hitting the window sill as she tried to look down. Her head connected with the glass, surprising her. She'd seen

15

WENDY STONE

and heard the glass shatter, watched as the woman had thrown herself onto the rocks below. The window was unbroken, and nothing lay upon the rocks. "It's hunger," she said, her voice loud in the eerie silence. "I'm seeing things because I'm hungry and tired and so upset." She huddled on the bed, gathering the warm fabric of the dresses around her. She thought she wouldn't sleep again but her eyes grew heavy and closed, despite her fear. **** Matthew stared down at the small figure huddled under a rainbow mountain of fabrics. He'd brought her a tray for breakfast, for it was not his want for her to starve despite her stubbornness. Setting the tray on the floor, he noted her bandaged hand, the blood soaking through the thin material, though it was dark brown and not bright red as it would be if the wound were still bleeding. He sighed, wondering what there was about him that would make her fight marrying him to the point that she would injure herself and so make her wish to return to that cold, fetid manor house he'd rescued her from. "Stubborn minx," he said quietly, his gaze tracing her fine features and silky skin. She seemed pale…too pale, he thought, feeling the urge to brush his fingertips over the skin of her cheek and see if it was as soft as it looked. Lara opened her eyes, feeling a presence in the room. She'd slept well after watching her midnight visitor leap to her death, neither dreaming nor waking again until now. The scent of food assailed her nostrils as she sat up, seeing Lord Matthew standing over her, his eyes hardening as she looked up at him with fear. "I've brought you food," he growled, feeling a frustrated anger simmer in his stomach. "And come to see if you've decided to be reasonable, or if a more direct approach must be taken. Will you consent to the marriage?"

16

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Two Lara stared with trepidation at Lord Matthew. Her head spun dizzily, the smell of the food he'd brought her causing her stomach to cramp with hunger. She looked at him in confusion, not sure why he was there. "Will you consent to the marriage?" His words brought the whole night back, sending her reeling into a predicament of her father's making that left her but two choices. She could stay in the tower, amidst the ghosts of the past, or she could marry a man she found despicable for the problems that faced her now. There wasn't much of a choice. "Well?" he asked again, his green eyes narrowing as he stared down at her. "I...I have two conditions," she stammered, her body shaking as she found enough courage to continue. "What are they?" he asked. "M...my sister and our housekeeper, I wish for them to come and stay with us. My father would let them starve to death without paying a single coin that might be used for gaming and gambling." She tried to sit up, gasping at the pain in her hands. Matthew reached down and took her arm, helping her to sit on the edge of the old bed before sitting next to her. "And your next consideration?" Lara closed her eyes, taking a deep breath that pushed her breasts against the bodice of her dress with spectacular results, drawing Matthew's eyes to her rounded beauty. She opened them, not noticing his gaze, for she was staring down at her hands, playing with the bandages that bound her cuts. "I do not wish to share your bed," she said suddenly, her eyes briefly glancing up at him before dropping to her hands again. She stiffened and waited as if expecting a blow.

17

WENDY STONE

"You shall have your own bed chamber, Lara," he said slowly. Matthew understood her meaning but he wanted her to spell her conditions out. "No, your grace, that is not what I meant." She sighed and then brushed her hair back with a hand that shook. "I do not w...wish to share the marriage bed. I don't know you, your grace. How am I to know how we will deal with each other?" "I suspect we shall deal with each other the way all married couples do, Lara." His voice held a strange note, and Lara looked back up into his eyes. "May I make a suggestion?" She nodded, unable to look away from the green gaze that snared her almost like a snake hypnotizes its prey. "I propose we kiss, Lara, to see if there is any passion between us that would carry over into the marital bed. If that passion isn't there, though I suspect it will be, than I shall agree to both your conditions. But if it is, then you shall marry me and be a wife true in every form of the word. Do you agree?" She felt lost in his eyes, in the emotion she could see buried there. For even though he tried to hide his feelings from her, something of them remained, shuttered and closed off from everyone. Slowly she nodded her head, giving in to the irresistible impulse even as the thought of him touching her sent shivers of fear through her. He carefully took her arm, feeling a spurt of nervousness that shocked him. He hadn't been nervous just over a kiss since he was a boy, seducing his first maid. Bending his head, he lifted her chin with his other hand, staring into the strange amber depths of her eyes. She quivered under him like a wounded bird, fragile and delicately made, and he gentled his hands as he drew her closer. When his lips met hers, she sighed and closed her eyes, feeling his lips cling moistly to the curve of hers. Her hands lifted, pressing against the wide expanse of his chest as if her frail strength would keep him from her. Matthew felt the warmth of her mouth, the sweetness of her lips under his own. Her innocence held its own desirability, taming his sudden urge to plunge and plunder. His hand moved to the small of her back, his fingers spanning her slender waist. He held her there, their mouths barely connected, for an almost impossibly long instant in time. Lara felt his warmth against the chilled length of her body and pressed closer. Her hands rose from his chest, touching his shoulders with

18

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

a timidity she couldn't help. His lips were warm, his breath pleasant and, unlike the kiss he'd forced upon her last evening, she didn't feel as if he were trying to devour her with his mouth. When her breasts touched his chest, even through the layers of cloth they both wore, she felt a strange shuddering pleasure that seemed to center low in her stomach. It sent heated tendrils of warm fire from that center, drawing a soft moan from deep within her. That moan, so soft and unexpected, startled Matthew and for a moment his lips left hers. His eyes opened and he stared down into her bemused face, her eyes still closed as if she yet savored that tentative contact between them. Her lashes fluttered, tiny butterfly wings against her pale cheeks, darker than the gold of her brows. With a muttered oath, a curse at the emotional torment she was causing him to feel, his mouth fused against hers, no longer gentle. Lara jerked in surprise, her eyes opening to see his flushed face so close to hers. His lips twisted against her own, his tongue invading her mouth. She tried to push it out with her own, sliding her tongue against his, the sensation of that intimate caress startling her even more. His hand went to her hair, yanking out what few pins had been left until the long tangled tresses cascaded across his hand and down her back in a waterfall of gold. He grasped it in his hand, using it to hold her head still as he feasted on her lips. He was beyond caring, beyond noticing anything but the soft body he held in his arms, the lush lips that heated his blood, the taste of her sweet mouth on his tongue. Sensations of heat, of pleasure, of needs so base and intimate to be shocking seemed to flood through her from where he touched her. His mouth demanded responses that she was too innocent to understand, and his hands touched and caressed with shocking familiarity. Too many new feelings coursed over her skin. She couldn't breathe. Matthew was barely aware of when she stopped responding and started fighting him. His first idea that she wasn't a willing prisoner of the same lustful demands of body that he was came when her hands hit at his chest, her feet kicking at his legs as he pushed her backwards on the bed. His lips left hers even as he followed her down upon the small mattress, his breathing a ragged rasp in his chest, and he stared at her panicked amber eyes, noting the tears that made them seem almost luminescent. "Lara," he said, stopping to clear his throat. He could barely think with the desire that ached in his groin, the pressure of his breeches against his cock almost painful. "I think I proved my point, dear fiancée." His

19

WENDY STONE

body curved toward hers, his hand arranging her hair around her to frame her slender face. "But..." "No, no buts allowed now, my dear. You shall have three weeks time to get used to the idea and to my kisses and touch. I shan't be denied my dear since I have proven that you are not cold toward my affections." He brushed a kiss over her lips, squelching the fierce need to do more than brush, to deepen the kiss until she begged him for more. "We shall go below where you will bathe and refresh yourself while I send a coach for your sister and housekeeper. I'm sure we shall find a position here for the woman." "And my sister? What shall be her position?" Her pulse jumped, visible under the thin skin of her throat as he stared down at her. His body was pressed against hers with a familiarity that was somewhat of a shock to the sheltered girl. His arm was heavy across her stomach, but in a strange way, reassuring. "She shall be treated as my sister, of course, for she shall become my relation when we are wed. I can't believe you'd think so little of me to think I would put her to the streets, an unwanted poor relation." He lifted his hand, letting his arm rest along the generous curve of her breast, to stroke the skin of her cheek. "I don't know you, your grace," she said, growing breathless from the forbidden touches and this surprisingly tender side of Lord Matthew. "And you did buy off my father with a bag filled with coin and told him to never darken your door again." Matthew smiled down at her; amazed at how much he was enjoying this encounter with what he had once thought was an insipid miss. Her mind worked well, he realized with surprise. "Having your father come to my door to pay off his gambling debts is something I will not do, Lara. The man is a terrible gambler, takes too big of risks and never knows when to leave the table." He bent down and kissed her again, enjoying the soft sigh that came from her lips as his played with exquisite care. Her lips parted under his, her tongue coming forth to timidly touch his mouth. Heat flooded his loins, his cock swelling even more at the unbidden aggression made even more pleasurable by her shyness. He brought up his leg, laying it across her thighs, letting his hips press against her thigh to give her a taste of a man's passions. He felt her stiffen under him, then shiver as if she enjoyed feeling him against her.

20

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

When her hand touched his hair, Matthew knew he had won. She would succumb to him; she would become his in all ways. And when he tired of her, he would send her to his country estate where she could wait for him. He would breed sons from her, and they would grow strong and healthy in the country while he played here at court. Lara felt the odd urges that had her feeling strangely achy and hot. It was a pleasurable ache, an itchy kind of hot that seemed to flare between her thighs in that most private of places. Her thighs felt lax and weak, her breath seemed short in her lungs as his lips played with magical results and intimate kisses. She felt a wildness in her spirit, a wish to feel more of what he brought to her. She wanted to taste him, to feel him against her tongue once more. Matthew kissed her until the room whirled around her head, her mouth eagerly returning the passion and desire he felt. His hand slid like fire from her face, stroked over her neck and across the hollow of her collarbone, his touch steamy hot against her skin. With just the tips of his fingers he traced the deep neckline of the dress, caressing the soft skin of her breasts that rose and fell with her gasping breaths. Her hands grasped his wrist, stopping him from investigating further even as she moaned her disappointment. Her hands held on, though she didn't try to remove his fingers from her soft skin and he teased her with tantalizing touches that brushed the rounded flesh just above the neckline. "Let me," he breathed, tearing his mouth from hers and burying it against the small hollow under her ear. "I want to touch you, Lara. I want it more than I want my next breath." The words were those he'd used before, said in passion numerous times to numerous debutantes that he'd managed to woo into giving him their virginity. Never in the years he'd been at court, though, had he meant them more. Her lips were soft fire, her tongue a heated brand in his mouth. Her skin was silken, delightfully warm and fragrant, deliciously tasty against his lips. He longed to capture her breast in his hand, to test its soft weight, to feel the puckered bud of her nipple against his palm and between his lips. "It is wrong, your grace," she whispered, her eyes closed against the dark passion on his face. She felt his mouth along her skin and the deliciously naughty thing he was doing with his tongue against her ear. Her heart felt as if it would burst from her chest, her body felt as if it belonged to someone else, someone wild and wicked, someone who held a

21

WENDY STONE

passionate nature equal to the man who wished to claim her body for his own. "We are to be wed, my love. What we do is not wrong, it is right in the eyes of God and man." He took her hands in his, lifting them above her head and holding them there with one of his. She didn't struggle, though her eyes pleaded with him to show care. "It is right, Lara, for us to feel this desire and passion toward each other." And once she was his, she could no longer even hope of refusing the marriage, though he did not tell her that. His hand made the same journey, over her throat and across the full curves of her breasts, once more tracing the line of the soft material that covered her there. But this time, his fingers slipped under the cloth, finding flesh softer even than the velvet, sleeker to his touch. Sliding his fingers under the smooth weight he lifted her pale breast free of its confines of shift and gown, bringing the tempting flesh to his sight. It was a generous globe, perfect and pale-skinned, with a rosy tip that hardened under the heat of his gaze. Its areola was round, crinkled skin surrounding a nipple that was perfectly made to fuel his desire even further. "You are more than beautiful, my love. You are perfect," he said, his gaze upon that soft flesh. His hand touched her, cupping the gorgeous mound and kneading its smooth weight in his palm. His thumb tenderly brushed the pebbled tip, watching her face as he touched her for the first time. Her reaction was all he could hope for and more as her eyes closed and her lips parted, a husky moan seeming to erupt from deep within her. Her back arched as she tried to bring his hand to even closer contact with her breast. But instead of his hand, he bent his head, the silky locks of his hair brushing against her skin as his mouth found the sensitive tip of her breast. Matthew groaned as she filled his mouth, the hard little nipple tickling his tongue as he suckled upon her. He lapped at her flesh, feeling her wriggling body under his. Her hands writhed, still trapped in one of his, and he let them loose, feeling them entwine in his hair. Lara was beyond thought as his mouth engulfed her breast in hot, wet suction. Her head tipped back and a keening cry came from her mouth. His hands slid under her, grasping the shoulders of the gown in each hand and pulling them down her arms, forcing her arms down and trapping them against her side. Her other breast was bared to his hands and mouth. She struggled, trying to free her arms, wanting to touch him also.

22

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Please," she whimpered, feeling the silky strands of his hair moving across her skin as he bestowed another torturous caress that contrived to keep her mindless with need. Her hands grasped the material beneath her, fisting it as his tongue trailed wet heat around the under curve of her breast. "Please what, Lara?" he asked huskily, staring up at her flushed face. "I...I don't know," she groaned, looking down to see him, his mouth a mere breath from her straining nipple. "I feel so strange, your grace." She watched as his tongue lapped from his mouth, stabbing with intricately devious results at her reddened nipple, her hips rising unconsciously in need. "How do you feel?" he asked, staring into her eyes as he nibbled on that luscious tip. "I feel h...hot and nervous, your grace, as if I am doing something wrong and naughty." She felt her face flush at the words, her body jerking as his teeth bit down with delicate precision around her nipple. "And my s...stomach feels strange, your grace." "How would you feel if I told you that you and I are going to make love, Lara, right now?" He pushed the gown down around her arms further, feeling it catch upon the curve of her hip. Her waist was bared to his avid gaze, the slender curve of her stomach rising gently to where just a hint of her sex was apparent. Her hands came free of the tight sleeves, rising to grasp the material of his coat, pulling at it. "It would be wrong, your grace. We are not married." She closed her eyes, unable to watch anymore what he was doing to her body. It was a mistake, making each caress, each touch of his lips or lapping of his tongue even that much more stimulating. His hand flattened against her stomach, his palm warm and slightly rough against her smooth skin. She felt it move, his fingers rubbing small circles upon her skin, going lower until she felt him touching the curly golden hair that covered her woman's mound. "We are all but married, Lara. And after today, you will know you belong to me. You have but to accept the fact." He groaned as his fingers parted those smooth curls and he could feel the plump lips, swollen and moist, betraying the amount of wetness he would find between them. His cock pulsed and throbbed. It pushed at the confinement of material, wanting to delve between those nether lips and bury itself in her soft wet flesh. He pulled his hand away, sitting up to strip off the soft creamy wool coat he wore, tearing at the cravat that his man had labored to tie correctly.

23

WENDY STONE

Her hands fell to her sides, her eyes wide as she watched him strip off his shirt, baring taut hard flesh and smooth muscle to her gaze. He grabbed her gown, yanking it down and hearing the old material rend, giving way so that it fell from her, leaving her naked but for long white stockings and the slippers that had matched her day gown. Matthew stared at her for a moment, lost in the beauty of her body, the slimness of her form. There was something so sensual about her body, so sleekly nude but for those thin white stockings that framed her long legs, making them seem endless. "You are so lovely, my wife-to-be." Lara felt shy under his avid gaze, her hands twitching as she felt an almost desperate need to cover herself. Her legs moved, her knee raised and she shifted her body, a heated blush rising from her breasts to stain her cheeks with embarrassment. She couldn't look at him, but she felt his gaze as it touched her body with heat. "I...I shouldn't be doing this, your grace." "My name is Matthew, Lara." His hand slid over her shoulder and down her body, skimming his palm over the turgid tip of her breast and listening to her gasp in response, her nipple hardening as her body arched into his hand. "We definitely should be doing this." "M...Matthew, I feel so strange, so unlike myself. Please," she pleaded, as his hands continued to caress her body, slipping down over her hips to trace the slender line where her thighs met her body. His lips found hers, his kiss anything but reassuring, his mouth hard and hot, and his tongue thrusting inside to tangle against hers. Her hands rose, finding the smooth skin of his shoulders, sliding over them to tangle in his hair, pulling the dark tresses from the ribbon that held it clubbed back. Matthew felt her touch and moaned, the heat coiling in his loins growing into a sharp edged passion. He rose over her, pushing her thighs open and slipping between, resting in the cradle of her body as if it were made for him and him alone. Lara felt his weight, his fabric covered thighs pushing apart her legs. He settled against her, the thick bulge that pressed against his breeches nestled against the part of her that had never been touched before. His hands roamed over her body, stirring her desire higher until she was moaning and panting under his mouth, pleading for something that she didn't recognize. He rose far enough from her body to tear open the flap in front of his breeches, finally allowing his shaft freedom from the restrictive fabric. His

24

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

cock, hard and thick, sprang from the flap, rubbing against her body. His hips lifted just enough so that he could press that hard shaft between her soft nether lips, feeling the scalding hot moisture of her passion surround him, dripping against his flesh. "Lara," he moaned, bending his head and finding her mouth. He moved his hips slowly, the head of his cock finding the delicate virginal opening and pressing against it. Just the tip of his cock slipped past and she squirmed under him, uneasy at the strangeness of what was happening to her. "Y...your grace," she breathed, tearing her mouth from his. "Please, I...I feel..." She couldn't finish the sentence, her eyes lost in the sight of him. His dark hair was mussed by her fingers, hanging over his shoulders to frame his long, handsome face. His eyes were half closed, sparkling and hard in his passion. His cheeks, high boned, were flushed with heat. His nostrils flared as he breathed, drawing her eyes to his mouth, his firm lips parted, his teeth gritted. She felt his hands take hold of her hips, holding her still as he seemed to be poised above her. His chest pressed against her breasts, his stomach molded to hers. He seemed some kind of pagan warrior, a handsome heathen from one of her novels, bent on making her his own. Her heart thrilled at the thought, her stomach fluttered, the heat coiling deep seemed to spark as she groaned. "Lara, I have to," he panted, fighting the urge to ram inside of her, breaking that fragile membrane he could feel against his cock, with little care as to her pleasure. His words broke off as he stared down at her, at the look in her beautiful eyes. Her hair was a tangled satiny foil beneath her, highlighting her soft, bright eyes and slim features. Her lips were swollen and a sharp spurt of pleasure shot through him at the thought that he had made her look like this, lost in passion, wanton and wild, in his arms. "Take a deep breath, Lara," he said softly, bracing his legs and reaching down to hold one of her legs up with his hand. And then he thrust, feeling the evidence of her virginity part reluctantly under that one stroke even as her body tightened under him at the pain. Her hands grasped his arms, her nails biting into his skin with tiny shards of pain even as he continued to thrust, feeling the velvety walls of her virginal sheath part reluctantly around his cock. "No! Stop!" she cried, her body struggling, her hands pushing at him. "It hurts," she said, staring up at him with a wounded expression

25

WENDY STONE

deepening the color of her eyes. The pain had been sudden, a knife blade's thrust that had surprised her from the passionate fog she'd been in. And then that strange feeling of being possessed, of feeling that part of him that was inside of her, filling her, stretching her as he pushed more of himself into her. Matthew quit moving, half of his length buried within her virginal flesh. He could feel her muscles around him, moving as they sought to refute the pain and refuse him entrance. They clamped down around him, emphasizing the tightness that held him so sweetly. His lips found hers, holding her chin as she sought to fight him once more. "It will only hurt for a moment, Lara," he said, his mouth moving over hers, determined to relight the fire that had burned for him just moments before. "Just kiss me, Lara," he whispered before fusing his lips to hers, his tongue roaming into her mouth to taste and tempt. Her mouth was hot, but nowhere close to the heat that slipped over the shaft of his cock as he pushed further inside of her. The liquid heat of her cunt surrounded him until he was fully sheathed, their bodies merged together, connected by passion. Her hips moved, whether to try to free herself from him or to incite his lust further, he didn't know, but the writhing was having an effect upon his control, forcing him to tear his mouth from hers with a sharp curse. He had to have her; he couldn't stop his movements as he slowly pulled from her body then thrust back, losing himself in the sweet friction. His mouth moved over her throat, found the curve of her breast, sucked her nipple between his lips. He heard her passionate cries and whimpers, felt the thrashing of her body under his as her thighs rose to close over his hips, her hands burying themselves in his hair to hold his head against her. The scent of sex rose in the air, musky and sensual, her arousal sweeter than the most verdant perfume. Her hips rose to meet his thrusts, her movements becoming uncontrolled as he pushed her over edge after sharp edge of pleasure. Lara was twisted into a knot of passion, strung on a thin wire of pleasure that seemed to be holding her as captive as Matthew's body. She felt his hips thrusting into her, his cock a hot blur of motion inside of her willing sex. It thrust her tighter into the web of erotic delight he strung around her. "Oh," she moaned. "There's something...I can't," she cried, her body tight, her muscles rigid. "Yes, you can," Matthew growled, his hand going between their battering bodies, pushing through her damp curls and finding the hard knot

26

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

of her clit. He strummed the fragile flesh, hearing her keening cry and feeling the first wave of her orgasm tear through her as the muscles that surrounded his straining cock fluttered and flexed around him. Her nails scored down his back, her head thrashed on the bed, tears streaming from her eyes as he brought her to her first passionate pleasure. It was a shock, the wave of fire that burned through her. It held her rigid and then tore her free of her surroundings letting her float upon wave after wave of delightful spasms. Bright white sparks shone in her eyes behind her lashes. Almost as an afterthought, she felt Matthew grab her hips, pounding against her. She heard his shout of pleasure and felt a strange pulsing and then a heated warmth was spurting inside of her. She sighed, her hands lying limply against his back as he collapsed against her, keeping enough of his weight off so that she could still breathe. Her body felt lifeless, heavy and replete. Even opening her eyes seemed to be a task too troubling to bother with. Tiny shock waves of that same flooding fire jolted through her, causing her to sigh little whimpering moans. Her legs felt weak, and slipped from his hips to lie lax on the bed. Matthew rolled from her, pulling her body against him as he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't remember ever feeling anything like the way she'd felt around him, the pleasure that she'd given him that seemed more intense than anything he could remember. Even his latest mistress, a woman he'd stolen from another Lord, had never brought him that, not even with her most talented mouth and hands. He sighed heavily, his heart pounding against his chest, pushing her soft hair from his face. Lara drifted, the heat of his body keeping the chill of the room from her more than any of the covers she'd had in the night. She knew she should be shocked or irate but a sigh was the strongest emotion she could summon. She could hear his heart beating against her ear, slowing as he regained his breath and managed a slow smile. Matthew's hand stroked along her arm, his body relaxing into the makeshift bed as his heart calmed. He could feel her small body lying so trustingly against his, her thigh drawn up and over his legs, her arm across his chest. "Do you think we shall deal well together, Lara?" he asked, his voice a contented rumbling purr. Lara's lips parted, a tiny smile appearing. "Your grace," she began, only to stop as a sudden blast of chill air permeated the small room. Her eyes flew open and she found herself staring up at Matthew's shocked face. "What the hell..." he began until a shiver took him. A noise like the crashing of waves on the ocean sounded in the room, full of angry wrath.

27

WENDY STONE

Matthew sat up, pushing Lara behind him as he stared around the dim, dirty room in confusion. Lara huddled against his back, her body shaking with cold and fear. It had to be the ghost, the woman she'd watched throw herself to her death, though she'd hoped that was nothing more than a nightmare. Matthew clenched his fists, searching the room for whatever was making that God-awful noise. He went to stand, not anxious to confront any foe while on his ass. As soon as he got his feet under him, he was knocked back to the ancient bed, his body slamming into Lara's as she also was pushed flat. He fought the cold and the pressure that seemed like unseen hands, pushing him down against Lara. With a growl of rage, he managed to roll, falling to the floor. Reaching out he grabbed Lara's arm, yanking her with all his strength until she too was on the floor next to him. "Under the bed!" he shouted to her, trying to be heard over the crashing noise that grew into a wailing that sounded like a fierce storm wind. Lara scooted under the heavy wood of the bed frame, ignoring the dirt and the crawling things that rushed around her body. The cold and the wind didn't reach her under here and she breathed a sigh of relief even while her body shook in fear. She reached out, feeling around her for Matthew and saw his legs as he stood next to the bed. "STOP!" he shouted, the air buffeting his body, twisting in his hair.

28

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Three "STOP!" Matthew's voice reverberated through the sudden silence of the tower room, his hands clenched down at his sides as he stared around him in disbelief. The fabric of the gowns fluttered through the air as they settled to the ground in a chaos of color and materials, the starched white cravat that he'd been wearing earlier settling amidst them. Within moments, nothing remained of that terrible wind except for the cold that swirled around him and the gowns that littered the floor. "Y...your grace?" Lara whispered. He could hear her voice shaking and muffled from where she was hiding, huddled in fear. Matthew turned and reached down to help the frightened girl from under the bed where he'd pushed her when the wind had started. He felt her shaking frame against his and pulled her closer, trying to comfort and warm her. "Are you all right, Lara?" he asked softly, staring down into her shocked gaze. She nodded, her body shaking. She clutched at his warm body with frigid hands, trying to get closer to his warmth. "I...I'm c...cold," she said finally. Matthew could feel the icy tips of her breasts pressing into his chest, her hands grasping at him, her fingers like little icicles against his skin. He ran his hands up and down her back in long strokes, pulling her even closer. "We need to get you warm, Lara." He bent and lifted up a gown, quickly putting it over her head and tugging the skirt down around her until she was covered. Then he noticed the gown he'd chosen was of heavy satin, a rich red in color. It contrasted vividly against her pale skin and clung to her slender curves, sitting heavily against her hips without the massive underskirts necessary to hold it up. Her hair hung in heavy disarray, mussed from his hands that had been unable to resist its thick silken texture. It flowed over

29

WENDY STONE

her shoulders like golden waves, drawing his eyes and his hand as he smoothed it slowly, giving and taking comfort from that simple gesture. His gaze slipped down and over the red of the gown, seeing how it followed the line of her body, cupping her breasts like a lover's hand and emphasizing the hardness of her nipples that almost showed in the low neckline. With a groan, he remembered how those softly textured nubbins had felt between his fingers, how they had tasted upon his tongue, feeling his cock harden as just that memory was provocative in a heady sensual manner. "We have to leave this place," he murmured, whether to himself or to her, he couldn't have said at that moment in time. Instead, he whirled, turning to the bed and grabbing his shirt, then dragging it over his head. Leaving the tails to hang out and cover the bulge that had grown considerably as he stared at her, he picked up his tailored jacket and slipped it over her shoulders, letting his hands linger on the lapels. His knuckles brushed against the roundness of her breasts that rose and fell harshly with her breathing. With one last caress, his finger dipping slyly beneath the edge of her neckline and grazing across the hard peak of her nipple, he turned, taking her hand in his and going to the door. He grabbed the handle, wondering for just an instant of time whether or not it would open, when he pulled on it. In that instant, his heart raced to his throat and a fear unlike any he'd felt before gripped him. The tales of his youth flashed in his mind, the tales of the white lady who walked these towers and lured the unsuspecting to their deaths, the tales which he now wondered if, in actual fact, were truths and not the old spook stories he'd thought them. For he had no explanation for the haunting icy wind that had howled around them, ceasing the moment he'd shouted. With a fervent prayer, he yanked upon the door and it crashed open easily, throwing him off balance. Matthew stumbled backward, his body bumping into Lara hard. He grabbed her in his arms to keep her from falling, righting himself and her only by dint of will. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you?" he asked. "N...no. I...I'm f...f...fine." Her teeth chattered loudly. Matthew watched her blanch, and wondered as he saw her eyes darken what she was thinking about. His reminded himself what was under that red satin of her gown and how she'd felt—her sweet, virginal, pink cunt wrapped around his cock so tightly that at first pleasure had almost been pain. He couldn't forget how she'd responded to him, how her cries of

30

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

pleasure had sounded as they had echoed throughout this small room. Though they'd been intimate, they were still little more than strangers to each other. She stood with her head pressed against his chest and he wondered if she could hear his heart picking up its pace even as he stepped closer to her. His hands slid under the heavy material of his coat, running with fiery intensity across the satin that covered her back, sliding over the curve of her bottom to pull her against him. "What have you done to me?" he said so softly she wondered if he knew he spoke aloud. "I want you again. My cock is still damp from being inside you but I still want you. I can't stop thinking about how it felt to be inside you." He dipped his head, raising her chin with one hand, the other starting to slowly knead the creamy globe of her bottom through the gown. He wanted to tantalize her senses with his kisses, to taste the flavor of her passion, to feel her respond to him as she had in the tower. His mouth twisted above hers, his head moving to change the direction of the kiss, listening as she gasped and moaned in what he could only hope was pleasure. He wanted to chase away the chill she felt, warm her with his body. When he felt her press against him, her fingers digging into the soft linen of the shirt he wore, he knew he had. Matthew felt her response and groaned, his lips tearing from hers to bury themselves in that wonderfully soft spot just under her ear. He panted with desire, his body taut with the need to push her down and throw up her skirts, to throw her knees over his shoulders and ram his cock into her with little finesse. It was brutal lust he felt now, a lust unlike any he'd felt before. "Come with me to my bed," he heard himself say, his mouth finding the soft flesh of her earlobe and tickling it with his tongue. "Come with me," he repeated, as thoughts of her soft body and the things he wanted to do to her flashed in his head. They were erotic images, things he could imagine doing with a mistress or even one of the slatterns of the streets, but not something he should even be thinking of doing with an innocent like Lara. But he was. He couldn't seem to help himself. He whispered words in her ear, words of what he wanted to do to her, words of erotic and sinful pleasures that almost had him pushing her to the floor to show her what he so desperately wanted. Lara heard his words, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, for they drew sinful pictures of lust in her mind. They were detailed images that,

31

WENDY STONE

though embarrassing her, sent shafts of longing and desire to her loins in lightning bolts of heat. Her shudders of cold and fear subsided, turning into tremors that had her clinging to him, her head turning to find his lips and cut off those incredibly erotic words. She took his mouth aggressively, making him groan as her tongue wormed its way between his lips, tasting the dark flavor of his passion with an eagerness that almost had him tumbling her to the floor at their feet. Instead, he twisted, pushing her against the hard stone, his hand trailing over her ass to pull at her thighs, opening them until she almost rode astride him. The hard bulge of his cock pressed intimately against her satin covered loins, his hips moving as he mimicked the act of lovemaking against her. Lara moaned and whimpered, wanting more. She wanted the heat of his mouth on her breast, the flick of his tongue against her nipple. She wanted his hands, rough and hard, holding her, squeezing her flesh, thrusting between her thighs with an eagerness that would please them both. She wanted to free him from his breeches, feel him push into her with that thick tool that she could feel rubbing against her. She wanted the pleasure he could bring, wanted it enough to beg if his mouth wasn't so hard on her own. Matthew lifted her higher, his hand fisting in her skirt, lifting the heavy material up her thighs until they lay bare against his legs. His mouth left hers, his teeth going to her throat to nip with almost painful intensity at her soft neck. His lips found her skin, suckling and sucking until he suddenly pulled away, staring with fevered satisfaction at the bright red mark he'd left, his brand upon her skin. "You're mine now, Lara. You know that and I know that," he said, his voice deep with a note that was so very different from the cold, calculating man who had walked into this room not long before. "No," she whimpered, shaking her head, valiantly trying to deny his words though deep inside she feared he was right. Even through the intense yearnings he'd created, the heated desire that prickled between her thighs, the dampness that flooded her sex proclaiming that he was, in truth, right, a part of her fought him and this strange fog of lust that hung around them. It was as if she were waking from a dream, that one tiny word of denial so weakly uttered, puncturing the spell that was formed between them. Her hands quit grasping at his shirt covered back, slipping to his chest to push at him.

32

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Matthew felt her weak struggle, her fists like butterflies' wings fluttering against him. He heard her soft cry of denial and felt a rage take him. It was fiery, mixing with desire, coating his head with dark thoughts. He wanted to make her hurt like the blackness did in his heart. In his mind he saw his hand close into a tight fist, ready to strike like a coiled snake. Shock flowed through him. He'd never struck a woman in his life, never. And just the thought of striking such a delicate girl as Lara sent him reeling back and away from her, watching as she slid down the hard wall, collapsing on the floor at his feet, the red satin gown billowing around her. He pushed a shaking hand through his hair, closing his eyes tightly against the sight of her. A large part of him wanted her with a passion that had him aching and hard, almost trembling in his desire to be inside of her. Another part, a smaller one, wanted to do untold violence, tear up the room, break out the glass and throw her small body from the window to break upon the rocks below. They had to get out of this room. Matthew forced himself to move, to reach down and pick her up from the floor despite the timid fight she gave him, her hands weakly pushing at his arms. She flailed wildly, one hand striking his face, making his eyes narrow with pain and anger. He turned, still holding her, and strode from the room, limping hurriedly down the narrow circular stairs with but one thought in mind, to get away from that room. By the time he'd reached the ancient hallway, he was breathless, the pain in his leg a throbbing ache. He slammed closed the door at the bottom with a kick of his foot, relief pouring through him unlike any he'd felt before. Then he stood Lara up, letting her legs slide down his, feeling every curve of her body against his. The desire was still there, potent and needy, flaring to life as she pressed against him. But the rage was gone, the anger dispersed. With a sigh, he rested his head against hers, feeling her cuddle closer now, instead of fighting him as she'd done before. "You wanted to kill me, didn't you?" she whispered, feeling him tense at her words. He pushed her back so that he could look down into her face. "Yes," he admitted though the word galled him. "I wanted to do violence upon you, Lara, when you denied me. I don't know why. I've never felt such rage or anger at one person in my life." She stared up at him with eyes that clearly showed her fright in their dark amber depths. "D-do you still wish to hurt me, your grace?" she asked finally, in a small rush.

33

WENDY STONE

"No, Lara." His hand came to her face, rubbing his thumb against the dark bruised shadows under her eyes. "I no longer wish to harm you." Her soft cheek rested against his palm, her eyes amber pools of worry and fear. "I don't like the fright in your eyes, Lara. I don't like seeing you look at me this way," he murmured, bending down and letting his lips caress hers lightly. "I won't hurt you," he whispered softly. "But those thoughts, I knew you wanted to hit me, I could almost see you making a fist to strike me, your grace. Those were your thoughts, were they not?" He stared at her a moment, knowing she was right. "Yes, those were my thoughts, but...but they weren't my thoughts," he said, pushing away from her and pacing down the ancient stone hall, kneading the ache in his thigh with one hand. "I don't know how to explain it; it was as if something was making me think those thoughts, Lara." He pushed his hair back off his face once more, impatiently, before turning back to look at her. She looked so lost, standing alone at the doorway to the curved stairs that led to that horrid tower room. Lost and frightened, and unlike the woman who had kissed him so aggressively before. Her shoulders drooped under his coat, her eyes stared at him like those of a small puppy that had been abused, looking at him like a last hope that she didn't dare trust. He wanted to cuddle her, to pamper her and coax her to eat. He wanted to protect her from the world and those in it that would hurt her. When he went to her, his hand rising to touch her hair, he couldn't help but see the small flinch she gave. His hand dropped to her side. "You need to eat and bathe and have your hands looked after," he said, though his voice held none of the warmth he had felt moments before. "Come," he said, offering her his arm, unable to stop the resentment he felt. "I will show you to your rooms and call my housekeeper to come and help you." **** Kathleen stared with horror at the almost empty shelves of the larder, her blue eyes wide. "Did you know it was this bad, Mary?" she asked the housekeeper who stood behind her, wringing her hands in worry. "Yes, miss. But Miss Lara always took charge of things. I thought she would go to the market today." Mary's cap was askew, her old blue eyes bright with worry in her wrinkled face. What were they going to do? Kathleen turned to gaze blankly at Mary, wishing fervently that Lara was still there. She'd never had to deal

34

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

with this; she hadn't even known that things were this bad. Lara had hidden it all from her to keep her from worrying. Kathleen straightened her shoulders, her head coming up. If her sister could do and handle, then she could also. She wasn't much younger than Lara, a year separating their births. She was old enough that she should be married now and running her own household. "Then I guess I shall do what Lara did. I shall go to the village and to the market and find someone to give us credit. Mary," she said, turning to the old woman and patting her gently on her stooped shoulder, "do not fear. We shall be just fine, Mary." Kathleen wished she felt as sure as she sounded that she would be able to do as she was saying. Her heart was in her throat, her pulse beating rapidly. She looked back into the larder, studying the hardened crust of bread and the small piece of cheese that was turning to mold. A tiny bin held a dusting of flour and there were four rather withered apples sitting upon one shelf. And that was all. She sighed, remembering how Lara's gowns had seemed to get looser on her thinner frame as the days had gone by. She knew now that her sister had been giving up most of her portion of food so that Kathleen and Mary might eat more. Guilt wracked her that she'd been so oblivious to the plight they were in, leaving it entirely upon the shoulders of her sister to bear. Well, no more. She'd prove her worth. Turning, she headed toward the stairs, intending to retrieve her reticule, bonnet, and cloak, then make the short walk to the village. Along the way, she gathered a few of the household items they had that might be able to fetch a price, though she had little hope of any great amount. As she was passing the double oak doors, a knocking could be heard. She turned that way, a frown tipping down the corners of her lovely mouth. Visitors never stopped by the manor, not since they'd first moved in. Any friendly gestures made by the people in the area had been firmly rebuffed by their father in his drunken state and now, at church or in the village, Lara and Kathleen were shunned and ignored, or worse, sent pitying looks as they scurried home in their old ratty gowns. Kathleen set down the items she'd gathered and forced a pleasant smile upon her face, opening the door as the second knocking came, this one much louder than the first. Her smile fell though, as she beheld the gnarled and bent man who stood on the stoop, his hard face and shrewd eyes showing no emotion as they beheld her.

35

WENDY STONE

"Oh, Mr. Reynolds, sir. What has brought you to our door?" Her voice was friendly but she held onto the door, standing so that the older man couldn't get past her and into the house. "My rent," he said in his strident voice, the cane he perpetually used coming up to knock her backwards. "I wish to see your father, young miss. I wish to see him now." "He's not home," Kathleen managed to squeak as old man Reynolds pushed past her, his gaze roaming over the possessions in the house as if he owned each one. He knocked her hand down and closed the door behind him, pushing her farther into the room. "Then I suspect that you will be out on your pretty little arse waiting for him to get here. Lara promised me the money for the rent today. Let me speak to her if your father is out." He peered around her, as if expecting Lara to pop out of thing air. "She is gone also, Mr. Reynolds. My father has taken her to her future husband's home and has not yet returned." Her hand went to her mouth as she wished she'd kept it shut. Reynolds was a foul man, a harsh landlord. Lara had always seemed pale and quiet after a meeting with him. And now she knew why. "Someone is taking that foul-mouthed witch as a bride?" Kathleen felt her hatred of the man grow strong. "My sister will be a duchess, Mr. Reynolds." "A duchess, is it?" He laughed, staring at her as if she were crazy. "I see, and I'm the next King of England." "It is true, Mr. Reynolds." Kathleen moved toward the door, holding it open. "I think you should come back when my father is in residence, sir." Reynolds stared at the petite beauty, his glare roaming with unhidden lust over her soft curves, shown to advantage by the too small gown. He gazed lewdly at her bountiful breasts that pressed against the tight bodice of her gown, and her breathing became ragged as the first real spurt of fear flowed through her. "I don't think so," he said. "Rent hasn't been paid, and your sister promised me payment today. Since she isn't here, perhaps you should pay up in her place." He reached out, grabbing her arm in his grubby hands. Kathleen shrieked as he yanked her from the door and kicked it closed. She struggled against his terrible grip, feeling his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arm, kicking at him as he dragged her into her father's library and slammed the heavy doors after him. He didn't release

36

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

her, spinning her around until she collided against his chest, her hands coming up to push his bent and stooped body away from her. "Please," she panted hoarsely, fear striking deep and holding her in its icy grip. "Please let me go," she begged the man, seeing a strange gleam in his eyes and the way they seemed to arrow to her breasts, watching the full mounds move and shake under her gown. "One of you will pay, miss, and since she isn't here, the chore falls to you. Now, do you want to do this nicely or...?" he left the question open, letting her fill in the blanks. "I will never submit to you, you slimy toad. Let me go!" Reynolds kept his hold on her arm, his other hand rising to tangle his fingers in the low neckline of her gown, ripping suddenly downwards despite her shriek of fear and embarrassment. The gown split under the pressure, his fingers catching on her shift and ripping that threadbare garment as well, baring her breasts to his avid and lecherous gaze. Kathleen's face felt hot and flushed as she tried to cover herself with her hands, pulling the torn material over her loveliness. She pulled her arm free from him, spinning and slapping him with all the strength she had, hearing his roar of displeasure and pain just an instant before once more feeling his hand on her. He held her with one hand, the other slapping her face with much more strength than she had until she fell to the floor before him, her eyes shutting, tears streaking down her battered cheeks. "Will you behave now or must I beat you into compliance?" he asked her, his eyes glittering with lust and pleasure at having this hoity member of society on her knees before him, her breasts falling from between the torn pieces of material, her pale pink nipples tightening in the cold air. "No," she groaned, her lip swelling, blood dripping from where it had split. Kathleen barely moved as she was dragged across the floor by her arm, picked up and thrown onto the leather sofa that graced one wall of the library. Her arms fell to the side, her legs splayed open as she lay as she was left, unable to move as shock and horror flooded her mind. Reynolds tore her skirt off easily, the worn material barely a barrier under his hands. He stared down at her naked beauty, his hand rubbing over the soft silk of hair that covered her woman's mound, pushing between her thighs to part her nether lips with a cruelty that brought a sharp cry of pain to her lips. She was dry, her flesh resistant to his fingers. But he was not to be deterred. He dropped to his knees in front of her, spreading her silky thighs with hands that now shook from his lust. Reaching to his breeches, he

37

WENDY STONE

opened the buttons that fastened them closed, his hard cock springing forth to stand hard and erect before him. "No!" she screamed, struggling to get away, to close her thighs that he held open, to hide herself from that thing that threatened her. "Stop! Help me!" "What is going on here?!"

38

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Four "What is going on in here!?" Sir Edward asked again, his body stiff as he stood in the now open doorway of the library, staring in disbelief at the scene in front of him. His young daughter lay with her legs open, her hands desperately trying to cover herself with the gown that was little more than shreds of fabric left hanging on her body. Between her legs was the gnarled old form of Roderick Reynolds, the scoundrel from whom he'd rented this godforsaken place. The old man sat back on his heels, casually tucking his rapidly deflating cock back into his pants. He stood with help from his cane and turned toward Edward with a derisive look upon his face. Ignoring the sobbing girl, he hobbled toward the man poised in the doorway. "Your girl was paying your rent, Maitland," he said, unashamed of the act in which he had almost been caught. "You haven't paid in months. Your other girl, that mouthy miss, knew what I expected today. She promised to have the money this morning and instead I find her spirited away so that she cannot hold her part of the bargain. So," he nodded toward the hysterical girl, "this one was fulfilling the deal." "You expected my daughters to pay using their bodies?" There was a note of disbelief in his voice, a tenor of shock that Edward was unable to hide. He hadn't expected such to happen to his children. But isn't that what he'd done to Lara? He'd sold her off to pay his debts to a man well know for his philandering and devil-may-care ways. How was this any different? Well it was, he told himself. He'd given Lara to a duke who would make her his wife. She would be a duchess and want for nothing. Her life was settled. Edward's eyes turned toward his youngest daughter, watching her for a moment. Her hands grasped at the ruined material of her dress, tears streaked down her lovely face, and her lips trembled in fear and horror. She looked such a slattern, her hair straggling over her shoulders in an unkempt display. Her legs were bare, curled under her and he could see just the barest hint of her cunt between the folds of fabric.

39

WENDY STONE

"Lara knew what I expected," Reynolds said once more, thumping his cane on the glossy hardwood floor to emphasize his point. "She wasn't here, I just took second best." "You'll get your money, Reynolds," Edward said drawing the pouch that the Duke had given him out of his pocket. It was decidedly smaller than it had been the night before. Shaking out two gold coins, he threw them with force toward the wicked man, his face turning back toward his daughter. "Now get out," he growled. "You owe me more," Reynolds hedged, pocketing the coins. "I'll be back next week for the rest or for you daughter's cunt. And I'll expect you to hold her down for me." Edward felt a streak of rage flood his gut at the thought of that disgusting old lecher with his hands on his daughter's soft skin. "Get out!" he growled again, though much louder. Without another word, Reynolds gimped toward the door, the thudding of his cane marking his progress. A slam of a door and he was gone from the manor. The library was quiet but for Kathleen's soft moans and quiet whimpers. Her sobs had abated as she listened to her father and Reynolds. Now she feared reprisal for what was not her fault, for her father's eyes were hard and with a strange glint she didn't recognize. "Stand up, girl," his voice came to her ears. He didn't sound angry. Instead his voice was almost gentle, completely at odds with how it had sounded just moments before. Kathleen drew the ragged shreds of material closer around her, clutching it with both hands, one at her breast and the other just above the soft mound of her sex. Standing was difficult—her soft, pale legs gleamed from between the folds of material, causing a flush of shame to heat her cheeks. Edward watched the blush rise to her face, watching as the flush turned her pale skin rosy. With her pale blonde locks and blue eyes, she could have passed for his wife's twin. He stared at her slender face, the fullness of her curved lips, and the sweet curve of her cheek brushed by the butterfly caress of her thick gold colored lashes. Her ears were tiny shells, their lobes delicate and pretty. When had she become so beautiful? When had she grown to be a woman? For she was that, he could see the soft dark valley of cleavage between her breasts, the almost absurdly small waistline that blossomed into rounded hips. Even those soft pink pussy lips that he'd glimpsed for

40

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

only an instant had been those of a woman, not the little girl he'd thought her still to be. "Drop your hands, girl," he said, waving his hand at her. Edward heard the words come from his mouth, spoken before he'd realized. His daughter, ever obedient no matter how embarrassed she was, slowly uncurled her hands from the material. The gown dropped away from her body, exposing a form that was lovelier even than that of his deceased wife. His gaze ran over what he could see with avid interest, even as a part of his soul seemed to wither and die with the sin that he was committing. He knew staring at her was wrong in one of the most moral of ways, but he didn't stop. It was almost as if he couldn't stop. The alcohol he'd drunk during his sojourn out to his usual gambling haunts had been fogging his head and fumbling his step since he'd been ousted from his last stop, managing to actually win a few hands before belligerence and alcohol laced rage had gotten him evicted. He'd come home with the idea of sleeping off the alcohol and had found his daughter being pawed and abused, almost raped. It sobered him, though he still felt the effects of the spirits, blurring the lines between reality and surrealism. With a groan of lust, for Kathleen inspired a deep, fiery need that he'd thought gone when his wife had died, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup one of her breasts, pushing aside the ripped material. His thumb brushed against the soft tip, teasing it until it hardened before he grasped it gently between his thumb and finger, rolling the pebbled peak and squeezing as if he were testing its ripeness. Kathleen's body stiffened in shock, stiffening against his hands. "Nno," she whispered, backing away from him, pulling her soft flesh from his fingers. "D-don't touch me." Edward stepped forward, his eyes riveted on her slender form and that pale pink nipple that almost seemed to wink at him from between the folds of her ripped gown. His last mistress had left him for richer fields, walking away without a glance backward months ago. Whores on the streets cost money that he didn't have. And Kathleen was here—naked, beautiful and warm. "Take off that gown, Kathleen." His tone was such that brooked no argument. He stepped forward again, watching as she gripped the edges of her gown and pulled it over her, trying to side-step around him and get to the door.

41

WENDY STONE

"N-no, please, Father," she begged, her voice reed thin. "You've been drinking. Please, Father, don't make me..." "That's enough, Kathleen," he said, blocking her escape easily. "Now do as you are told. Remove the gown." He reached for her as she twisted away, getting hold of the threadbare material of her gown with one hand. Kathleen let go of the gown as she felt it constrict her arms and felt her father yanking on her. Letting her arms slip out of the sleeves, she hurried once more toward the door, leaving him standing there with her gown in his hand. Her hand reached for the handle of the door, ready to throw it open and scurry up the stairs. He knew she heard him moving behind her even through the gasping rush of her breathing and the sobs that seem to come from deep inside of her. He watched as she turned her head, her eyes wide as she stared back at him. Her hand fell from the door, coming up to clutch at her throat. Both of them jumped as the handle moved and the door was thrown open. With a gasping shriek, Kathleen turned back to the door, seeing the man who stood there, his tall hat in his hands, his eyes shocked as she ran into his arms. "Help me," she whispered, grabbing the lapels of his thick coat, feeling the cold that still clung to it against her skin. "Please," she begged. "Please don't let him hurt me." **** Matthew finished washing up, drying his hands and face on the thick, soft cloth that sat next to the basin. He grabbed the brush resting next to it and used it on his hair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. After a few swipes with the brush, he turned and hurled it at the wall, watching with dissatisfaction as it bounced harmlessly and fell to the floor. He couldn't get her out of his mind. She was everywhere he looked, her soft eyes staring up at him, her sweet lips tempting him with their moist hot caress. Her scent was on his body, in his clothes. He couldn't get away from her. With a growl of pure rage, he pulled the shirt off his body, hearing the seams rip ruthlessly, but not caring even though his valet would be tuttutting him when he found it. The breeches and boots came next, then he picked up the cloth, swiping it over his chest and groin with desperate strokes. The water was cold, as was the air in his rooms, for the fire had burned low. He usually never returned to his rooms until later in the day, activities and business keeping him ever active. He shivered, goose flesh

42

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

rising. But still he continued trying to wash Lara away, getting angrier, the cloth rushing over his skin, scrubbing hard. Until he looked in the mirror. It was as if time, for just that single instant, stood still as he met his own gaze in the mirror. Reflected green eyes locked onto his. His hair stood wildly despite the few strokes with the brush, his body was covered in goose flesh and he was shivering. What was he doing? He was letting a little slip of a girl climb under his skin, a girl he'd never seen until yesterday. She was just a girl, and not someone he should be allowing to upset him this way. With a curse, he threw the cloth back in the basin, ignoring the spatters of water that ran over the mirror and onto the fine grained wood. Turning, he went to his wardrobe and began to dress. **** Lara sat against the pillows, her hands neatly bandaged after being thoroughly cleaned by Matthew's housekeeper. She wore her own nightgown, the material thin and slightly gray from being so old. In her lap was a tray filled with food meant to tempt even a timid appetite, which she did not have. She was so hungry, but could only stare at the food for a moment as if it were another apparition that would disappear if she touched it. "It isn't doing you any good sitting on the plate, miss. Eat up or else Cook will think you don't appreciate her talents. She can be a little on the temperamental side if she thinks someone doesn't like her food," the housekeeper, Mrs. Ethelridge, said, all in black with starched white lace collar and cuffs, a ring of keys hanging from a chain at her waist as she bustled around the room, putting things away after taking care of her charge. Lara slowly picked up the fork that sat next to the china plate filled with rolled crepes stuffed with wild mushrooms and eggs, and carefully sliced off a tiny bite and raised it to her mouth. Her hands trembled with trepidation and weakness, almost causing her to lose the morsel before it could reach her lips. "My wife-to-be seems more presentable." Lara jerked at the sound of Matthew's voice, causing a rattle of china and silverware, her eyes searching the room until she found him standing next to an open door she hadn't noticed before. He was dressed differently, in fawn-colored breeches, his white shirt open at his throat and a navy blue coat slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was loose, falling in thick waves to his shoulders, framing his darkly handsome face. His green eyes

43

WENDY STONE

seemed to dance with some hidden fire as he stared at her seated in the center of the huge bed, seeming more like a child than the woman he'd made love to just hours before. Lara felt flushed at the look in his eyes and stared down at her plate, her appetite gone. "Yes, your grace. Thank you," she said, her voice stumbling a little. "Thank you, Mrs. Ethelridge. I wish to speak to Lady Lara alone. I shall make sure she finishes her meal." He winked at the housekeeper, who smiled fondly at the man who had once been her charge. "Yes, your grace. I shall listen for the bell, if you'll ring it when she is through." She turned and left the room. Alarmed, Lara watched as Matthew walked slowly toward the big bed. He moved as if she were a frightened animal, ready to scamper away at the least provocation. His eyes dropped to the tray, moving over the unfashionable nightgown she wore, then over her hair, left loose around her shoulders like a golden cloud. Her hands rose, pushing it back, feeling uneasy under his guarded stare. "You must eat, Lara," he said softly, sitting down on the mattress next to her so that he faced her. He let the coat slip out of his fingers so that it lay upon the bed where it wouldn't get wrinkled, leaving his hands free. Reaching out, he took the tray from across her lap, setting it next to him. He picked up the fork and knife, slicing a small bit off the crepe and lifting it to her mouth, smiling when she opened obediently for him. "I can feed myself, your grace," she said after she'd chewed and swallowed the food. "I know, Lara. But would you deny me the pleasure of being able to help you with something that I know is difficult for you in your present state? Would you be so cruel?" he asked. His smile was charming, one she was sure had also charmed hundreds of women and been the cause of many hurried marriages. Lara felt the heat rising in her face. He was so charismatic and attractive when he tried to be. After this morning and the things he'd done to her in that tower room, she was even more susceptible to him. "I...I guess not, your grace." "Matthew, Lara. We are to be wed, after all. You can refer to me by my given name." "M-Matthew," she allowed, opening her lips to accept the next bite he offered.

44

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"I wanted to let you know what I have set into motion concerning your sister and housekeeper, my dear," he said, busying himself with cutting up her food and putting jam on a slice of toast. "I do believe you shall be pleased." "What have you done?" she asked excitedly, for in all of the chaos of the morning, she'd wondered if he would have forgotten Kathleen and Mary. "I've sent my man, Giles, to the manor to retrieve the two of them. He has a note of introduction from me and orders to bring the two of them back no matter what your father might say or do." Lara clasped her hands under her breasts, ignoring the stinging pain of her wounds. "Thank you, your grace." Her eyes were raised to his, gratitude and something else shining in their strangely colored depths. She looked so incredibly delicate and lovely sitting in that huge bed, so much like a fragile angel who would break under his clumsy hand, that he was afraid for a moment of what was to come. Then his hand, as if it had a mind of its own, raised to her chin, tipping her face up more. His lips came down to touch hers, light as the down of a feather. His eyes opened, his lips pulling back, staring down at her flushed cheeks, her lashes brushing across their curved softness, fluttering as if to open. Her lips were parted, lush softness that drew his mouth like a moth to a flame and, before he could stop himself, his mouth descended once more, fusing against hers with the power of desire. Lara felt her heart stop at the gentleness of his kiss, the sweetness of it more healing to her troubled mind and heart than any kind word could have been. He touched her as if she would break, as if to do more would have her fleeing from him like a white tailed deer in a forest glen startled by a hunter's scent. His lips were warm, firmly masculine, lingering so briefly she almost protested when they left her mouth. With a sigh that was almost his name, she started to open her eyes, curious as to his mood, for this gentle side of him was so wonderfully appealing to her. Then his lips found hers again, moistly clinging to their softness her. His tongue tripped gently across her upper lip, slicking against the hard smoothness of her teeth before dipping between. She felt that strange power he held over her once more, that feeling of belonging that she had felt between them when he had made her his up in that tower room. Her tongue slipped and tangled against his, and she heard his moan, a heady sound that shot to her loins in spears of need. She could feel him

45

WENDY STONE

pressed against her, their only barriers her thin nightgown and his soft linen shirt which she clutched in her bandaged hands as if he were her only refuge in the storm of his desire. She arched against him, her soft body pressing with ethereal fire, delicate and tender. He gentled his kiss, the fire not dimming even as his lips softened. His kisses slowed to long probing sweeps of her mouth, relishing the flavor of her passion, his hands finding the slender curve of her hips, roaming up and over her back. He moaned into her mouth, breaking away to press intimately soft kisses against her eyes, roaming over her cheekbones and across her jaw. His breath was harsh though his touch was gentled, leaving him almost trembling as he heard her soft cries of pleasure. "You've bewitched me," Matthew said to her, holding her tightly against his chest, the tray of food all but forgotten next to him. "You've cast some sort of spell over me. I've never wanted a woman the way I want you." Lara heard his words, felt them in the tremors that erupted deep within her. A joy surprised her, a happiness she didn't think possible to feel and hadn't expected to feel with the man to whom her father had sold her. He caressed her with care, stroking his long fingers down the bare skin of her arms, lifting her hands to press gentle kisses to her palms and the worst of the cuts and scrapes. His lips touched her wrist, and he saw the ring of bruises he'd put upon her flesh. He stared at the bruises, turning her wrist in his hands, finally looking up into her eyes. "I hate that I caused you pain, Lara. I hate that I was so rough and ill tempered with you. I forced this upon you, but we are both set upon a course that I wish to explore completely with your consent." He kissed her wrist once more before letting it fall upon her lap. "I think we should look upon this marriage as not one of convenience or of arrangement but one that we both wish to happen. Can you set your mind to that, my lady?" "You wish for us to have a true marriage? One of respect and l-love?" she asked, stumbling over the word. "I wish for us to explore that possibility open-mindedly, love. I find that I am developing a fondness for you, Lara. You have qualities I didn't expect in one so young, qualities that I find very attractive, your beauty notwithstanding." He smiled down at her, seeing the blush his words had brought to her cheeks. "To use your own words, my lady, I wish for us to have a marriage true to the word. And let us see if there is a love to grow between us, do you agree?"

46

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Lara stared up at him, her eyes huge. To be given a chance to make a choice was something she hadn't expected. What was in her heart? Did she wish to give him the chance to see if she could love him? Her heart was in her eyes, her hands trembling as they fluttered in her lap. There was fear in her voice, fear and a hint of hope as she asked him the question more important to what her answer to his would be. "If I decide now that I do not wish to marry you, your grace, will you let me return to my father's home and forget this idea of marriage?"

47

WENDY STONE

Chapter Five Kathleen stared up at the man whose arms had folded around her, feeling so large and strong and warm in her frantic state. His eyes were brown, she saw, feeling her fears subside as she held tightly to him. They were brown and warm and gave her a feeling of safety, though they tightened with anger when they looked over her head at her father, who hadn't yet seen him. "Kathleen, come back here and I'll be easy on you. I'll fuck y..." He skidded to a halt, taking in the nude form of his daughter snuggled up to a tall stranger whose dark brown eyes hardened and glared at him. The look caused Edward to swallow in sudden fear, taking Kathleen's dress and dropping it behind his back. "Who are you?" he managed to work up the courage and ask. "Let go of my daughter." His voice squeaked a little at the last word. The man, his arms wrapped securely around the small feminine bundle, his hat on the floor at his feet, glared at Edward. "My name is Giles. I've come from the Duke of Marshalling. I'm to retrieve Miss Kathleen and Mary, the housekeeper, and bring them back with me, forthwith." "Y-you what?" Edward managed to splutter. "No," he said, his head shaking the negative slowly. "I shall not allow it. The Duke has Lara. He only paid for Lara. Kathleen isn't going anywhere. Come here, daughter. Come here NOW!" he shouted. Kathleen glanced back at her father, terror making her stomach tighten. She'd never disobeyed him, but now, she glanced up at the man holding her with such gentle strength. "My sister has sent for me to come and live with her?" she asked timidly. She felt Giles's eyes upon her and wondered at his thoughts, if he found her disgusting and repulsive because of the manner he'd been met upon his arrival here. She felt his arm tighten and glanced up and into his eyes, caught by the look of admiration she saw there.

48

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Yes, if you are Miss Kathleen," he answered quietly. He dropped his arms from around her and doffed his coat, wrapping the garment securely around her slender form. "You should go and get dressed while I converse with your father, miss," he said courteously, averting his eyes from her slender legs, though the image of her naked form was burned into his brain. "And then pack what you wish to take with you as well. We shall not be coming back here." Kathleen took another long look at her rescuer. He was a large man, tall with wide shoulders and huge hands. His hair was black with a few sooty gray streaks running through the long length of it. It was clubbed back and held with a plain brown lace, exposing a thin face with a square jaw and a nose that looked to have been broken once or twice. His skin was ruddy, and flushed as he saw her staring, but his eyes sparkled with a gentle warmth that she felt like a physical caress against her cold skin. "Who are you?" she asked solemnly, her eyes riveted to his face, her hands clutching the huge coat around her. "My name is Giles Reversham, Miss Kathleen. I am the Duke of Marshalling's man. Now hurry, miss, while I make arrangements with your father." He made gentle shooing motions with his hand, smiling genially though he felt as if he'd been hit in the chest with an ax. To have found such a shy young beauty being chased naked by her own father was not just shocking. It was something that he wouldn't allow to go unpunished. He couldn't. He'd seen too many things in his life, too many horrid things before the Duke had come along. This gentle young girl deserved a champion, and he would be it. He waited until she was at the top of the stairs and had disappeared around a small bend in the hallway before he turned to the man who at one time had been her father. "I am taking her from here now. If you stand back and don't come in the way of her leaving, I won't tell the Duke of how you tried to fuck your own daughter," he said curtly. "If you do, well, perhaps the Duke won't have to know. Perhaps I'll just take care of you myself." His gaze bored into the older man's eyes, letting him see the truth of his words and gather his own ideas as to what would happen. "You can't just take her from here. He didn't pay for the two of them, he only paid for Lara. If he wants Kathleen also, I'll need more, twice what he's already paid me." Edward stood tall, trying to back the man down. Giles's emotions altered suddenly, from hard and angry to cajoling and friendly. His entire mien changed and he laughed, walking forward and putting his hand on Edward's back, slapping his shoulder as if they

49

WENDY STONE

were the best of friends. That friendly slap sent Edward stumbling into the library with Giles following him, closing the doors quietly behind him. When he opened them again, Kathleen stood at the bottom of the stairs, a thin black cloak covering her best gown, a small bag in her hands as well as the huge coat he'd wrapped her in earlier. Mary stood behind her, wearing a cloak and bonnet and looking wide eyed at the scene in the library behind the massive Giles. "Father?" Kathleen breathed quietly, her eyes large and round as she saw her father lying on the floor. His hands were clenched between his thighs, his eyes tightly closed, his face a ghostly white except for the trickle of blood that came from his nose and mouth. A low keening noise came from his mouth and he didn't even look up as the sound of her voice reached his ears. "Miss Kathleen?" Giles retrieved his coat from her, then offered her his arm after closing the door of the library quietly. "You were very quick. The coach and horses are outside the door if you are ready to go?" "Mr. Reversham?" she looked up at his long face. "Is my father hurt?" "Nothing that won't heal with time, miss, and no more than what he deserves for the deeds he did. I hope this doesn't distress you, Miss Kathleen. I am not a violent man by nature, only when my sense of justice is roused. I was hoping just to see justice done for you, miss," Giles' mouth snapped closed as if he realized he was babbling. She tugged on his arm, pulling his face close to her, and lifted on tiptoe to reach his cheek with her lips, placing a soft kiss there. Her face felt hot when she let him go, but she held his gaze despite her embarrassment. "Thank you, Mr. Reversham. I shall not forget this." "You are welcome, miss," he said respectfully, even as his own cheeks colored brightly. She smiled shyly, allowing him to take her arm, feeling his eyes resting upon her. She couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her. He escorted the young beauty to the coach, holding the door and helping both her and the housekeeper into the cozy interior. He spread a lap rug across both of their legs before tipping the tall hat he now wore and closing the door behind them. Swinging up to the high coach seat, he yelled to his horses, releasing the brake and flicking a whip above their backs. With a lurch, they were off. **** "If I decide now that I do not wish to marry you, your grace, will you let me return to my father's home and forget this idea of marriage?

50

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Matthew stared down into her amber eyes, wishing he could see what was in her head. If he said yes, she could leave him and return to the life where she was slowly dying from the neglectful treatment of her father. But that was something he could fix, with money and time. If he said no, she could become infuriated and deny that which he wanted the most, to see what there was between them, to have it come to fruition and see what delights could be in store. "If that would make you happy," he said finally, almost grudgingly. Lara smiled, hiding her face in her hopes that he wouldn't see it. It was what she wanted to hear, that he valued her opinion, her wants, enough to really give her the choice. Matthew saw her smile and a slight growl issued from his throat. He reached down and took her chin in his hand, raising her face to his, making it impossible for her to hide from his eyes. The smile was there—bright, luminous, making her look impossibly beautiful. "My answer makes you happy?" "Yes, your grace. It makes me very happy." "You didn't mean that question, you don't want to leave me, do you?" he asked slowly, realizing that she was testing him. "No, Matthew, I will stay and become your wife. I just wanted the right to make up my own mind." She answered him quickly, but from the heart. "Then why do I feel like I was just cleverly manipulated?" He closed his hand into a loose fist and tapped her gently on the chin. "I shall have to watch you, Lara. A young lady whose beauty is equal to yours and with a mind to her as well is both a blessing and a curse." "I did not mean to manipulate," she said, thinking to apologize until she realized he was right. She'd done what she had to do and she would not be sorry for her deed. "I needed to know, your grace. I needed to know that this was a choice I would be allowed to make for myself." "Shh, Lara. It is fine. I am proud to be marrying a woman of substance as well as one who is lovely to look upon. I feel we shall have many discussions on many matters during our life, love. And I don't feel that I shall ever be bored with you." He laughed, kissing her lightly upon the lips. Or at least it started as a light brush but when he felt her softness, felt her clinging to him, her body pressing so wantonly against his, he couldn't help but deepen the kiss. He loved the way she responded to him, the way her body arched against him, her lips so soft, so moist and the dark, sweet flavor of her mouth.

51

WENDY STONE

His hands went to her waist, slowly slipping up her sides to curve under the full weight of her breasts. He lifted them gently, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh through the thin material of her night dress, loving the way her nipples pressed against the threadbare fabric, a hazy teasing of color so prominently displayed. He leaned down, taking one in his mouth, wetting the fabric with his tongue as he plied that muscle into tormenting her slender body with the sweetest of caresses. Lara moaned quietly, her bandaged hands going to his dark head, her long fingers threading through the silky softness of his dark hair. He was such a complex man, she never knew exactly what to expect—the dark and dangerous rogue who'd locked her in the tower, the gentle lover who tantalized her senses with his talented hands and heated caresses. He could be the aloof lord, staring down the length of his nose at her, or the sweet and kind man who listened to her needs and wants and tried to understand. But now he was passionate and teasing, his hard hands pulling her closer, sweeping her into his lap to straddle his legs, her thighs wide and her woman's mound pressed wickedly against the length of that bulge that grew in his breeches. His mouth was on her throat, his hand grasping a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to bare more of her flesh to his greedy mouth. Wave after wave of the most sublime heat swelled inside of her and she felt her woman's flesh growing wet, swelling with need for that which he'd given to her earlier. Her hands roamed his body, growing braver with ever moan and groan she wrenched from him. Lara's thigh was warm and soft under his hand, her gown sliding ever upwards and exposing her smooth pale flesh to his eyes. The long muscle of her thigh flexed under his fingers, moving restlessly as she waited for him to complete the trip, knowing where his hand was destined. He was driving her mad with his slowness, even as the anticipation was making her even more wanton in her desire. "M-Matthew?" She stared at his face, as his eyes watched his hand, his other hand holding the loose material of her gown up at her back until her soft, pink cunt was exposed to his eyes. She was so open, splayed as she was with her legs on either side of him, her body bare to his hands, to his eyes. He slipped one finger slowly over the damp flesh he'd uncovered, watching as her body shuddered in pleasure. "You are beautiful, Lara. Even here," he said, his finger stroking the soft flesh, feeling the sleek wetness and the tantalizing bud of her clit as it grew beneath his fingers.

52

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Slowly, raising his eyes to her flushed face, he pushed one long finger gently inside of her, feeling her stretch with delicate strength around him, her body fluttering muscles that drew him deeper within the heat and tightness of her. She was caught in a web of erotic torture, a sensual torment that he plied upon her willing body with supple ease. Her body arched as she felt him deep inside, trying to take more of him, wanting more from him. She stared down between them, watching as he withdrew, his finger glistening damply in the sunlight as it emerged from her hungry sex. As she watched, he added another finger, stretching her further until she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. Her head fell back, exposing her long throat to his mouth, a treat he didn't refuse, adding the heat of his lips and the caress of his tongue to the other sensuous sensations coursing through her. "Please," she begged, her voice nothing but a husky whisper that sounded like music to his ears. "I...I can't do this. Matthew..." she moaned, her eyes closing as she whimpered through the pleasure that was too intense, especially when his thumb found the hard knot of her clit and circled it gently. Matthew could hear the wet sounds of her passion as he thrust into her, feel it on his hand, and smell it in the scent of her arousal that wafted to his nose like the most erotic of perfumes. His body was taut, his cock so hard that it throbbed with desperate need against his breeches. The sound of her voice, the husky cries that erupted from her mouth, all contrived to drive him closer to the edge. He reached between them with his free hand, finding the buttons of his breeches and starting to undo them. The sound of his curse startled Lara, breaking the spell he'd woven with his hands and mouth. She looked around as if she were just waking, staring at Matthew as he dropped his head to her throat, his mouth drawn down in a frown of annoyance. And then she heard it, the sound of knocking upon her door. "Just...just a minute," she called in a voice that sounded nothing like her own. Her hands were buried in the material of his shirt and she slowly unfisted them, trying to draw away from the Duke and slide off of his lap. He curled the two fingers he had inside of her, letting them rub with devastating pressure against the inside of her vaginal channel, tightening the maelstrom of desire that still churned deep inside of her. "Matthew," she sighed, her fists pushing against his shoulders though she desperately wanted to tell whoever was at the door to go away, to tell

53

WENDY STONE

Matthew to continue, to make her feel these wonderful and terrifying sensations that caused her entire body to shake. "I know," he said, lifting his head, trying to smile at her despite the urgings of his body to tip her back on the bed and tell whoever was at the door to go to hell, while he fucked his little fiancée until she screamed his name, ripping his back to shreds with those sharp little nails. "I don't have to like it, though," he said, pouting like a small boy and making her laugh. "I...I don't either, Matthew." The words were said in a whisper, her body shuddering as he slowly withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to her mouth, slipping one between her lips. She tasted herself upon his skin, her small tongue flicking against the tip of his finger and making him groan again. "Keep that up, Lara, and I will do what I want to do and to hell with whoever is pounding upon the door." His breath hissed as she sucked on his finger and let it go, then slowly slid from his lap to curl back upon the bed. He stood, placing the tray of food next to her and grabbing his coat, holding it across his arm to hide the evidence of his extreme arousal from whomever was at the door. He leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. "Eat your food, my love. I want you healthy and strong. You will have to be for the plans I have for you." He laughed as she flushed, once more the shy miss and not the wanton siren that just sucked sexily upon his finger. With one last heated look, he turned and walked to the door, opening it and seeing a pretty young girl whose blue eyes widened upon seeing him. "I...I was told my sister was in this room," she said nervously, holding her cloak closed at her throat with one white knuckled fist. "You must be Kathleen," Matthew said, smiling gently down at the pretty girl. "I am Matthew. We will soon be siblings." He watched her eyes as she stared up at him, seeming transfixed. He couldn't help the smile that came to his lips, this one gentler, for he had no interest in seducing this timid waif. She looked amazingly like Lara, though she was a bit taller and longer of frame. "I'm so sorry, your grace," Kathleen said, blushing and dropping into a low curtsey before him. "My sister is constantly telling me not to stare." Matthew was enchanted by her straightforwardness. He reached down to take her hand, helping her to rise. "It's Matthew, Kathleen. We shall be family in a few weeks time. I've told my housekeeper that you are to be given rooms close to your sister's. Go in, keep Lara company while she eats and I'll have Mrs. Ethelridge bring up another tray."

54

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Thank you, y...I mean, Matthew," she said, starting past him to go to her sister. She stopped suddenly, before he had the chance to turn away himself, and turned back to him. "Matthew, I need to thank you. I...I was quite desperate this morning, wondering what we were to do." "Think nothing of it, Kathleen. I hope you will consider this your new home and be comfortable here. If there is anything you wish or need, you have but to ask." He smiled down at her. "Now go on, make sure Lara eats, she is much too skinny." Kathleen smiled, turning to hurry to her sister. As Matthew closed the door behind him, he could hear her excited voice and Lara's quieter one. "Matthew!" He turned, seeing Giles walking toward him. "You did well, my friend. Thank you for retrieving them so quickly." "I need to speak to you, Matthew," Giles said seriously, his eyes turning hard. **** "Of course, come along," Matthew said, heading down the hall toward the huge curved staircase that led to the first floor. "I find myself wanting another cup of coffee this morning, care to join me?" Giles nodded his assent, following Matthew into the large room that was used as the library. It was a very masculine room, dark leather furniture set around a huge fireplace. Hunting trophies were scattered on the wall above the fireplace, a huge red and black rug was laid on the floor. Floor to ceiling shelves were covered in leather-bound books in muted colors of greens, reds, browns, and blues. They lent their scent to the air already redolent with wood smoke and yesterday's fragrant cigar. Giles liked this room, especially the books. He had taught himself to read, and once he had he found himself with a voracious appetite for the written word. There had been nothing that he enjoyed more than an evening spent with a book, stretched out upon the long leather sofa, a snifter of his lordship's fine brandy sitting next to him. Matthew went to the corner, tugging upon the plush satin cord that connected to a large bell in the kitchen below. He knew it would be answered quickly for he paid his staff well to see to his needs. Then he turned to his desk, reaching for the small wooden box which sat upon it, offering Giles a finely rolled cigar. He didn't take one for himself, instead reaching to light a taper for his friend to use to light his with. Seating himself in front of the fire, he crossed his ankles indolently before turning to his friend. "So, what was so important that you needed to

55

WENDY STONE

see me right away, Giles? Was there trouble at the manor with Sir Edward?" "You could say that, Matthew," Giles said, starting to tell Matthew what he had walked in upon. He was interrupted when Mrs. Ethelridge brought in the coffee, but he finished quickly as soon as she left. "I wanted to kill him, Matthew, for what he did to that young girl." Matthew stared into the cup of coffee that he hadn't been able to drink after hearing of Kathleen's plight. "He didn't...?" he left the question open, knowing Giles would understand his meaning. "No, but he would have if I hadn't been there." "Then Edward's lucky you were. If he'd done what he'd intended, I would have to have killed him for his incestuous crime against his daughter. As it is, I think from what I know of the delicate tap of your fist and knee, he will probably be unable to think of a woman for many a day." Matthew stopped speaking, hearing Giles' growl of rage. He stared at his friend, thoughtful until brown eyes met his, and he tried to hide his thoughts, shuttering his gaze quickly. "Why are you staring at me like that?" Giles asked, his eyebrow raising. "She is a pretty little thing," Matthew said, seeing the red flush that rose to his friend's cheeks. "I didn't notice," Giles said, turning to stare into the fire, taking one last pull on his cigar before flinging it into the red embers. "Right," Matthew said. "I didn't," Giles said, emphasizing the words. "Of course you didn't. What was there to notice besides her pretty blonde curls and big blue eyes?" Matthew was grinning, even though he was angered by the thought of Edward's perversions, he couldn't help but being amused by his friend's plight. "Matthew," Giles voice rumbled with warning. "We aren't going to discuss this." "But you were the one that brought it up." "No, I thought you should know what I walked in upon. Now that you do, don't you think we should do something about it?" Matthew took a sip of his rapidly cooling coffee and stared into the flames for just a moment, before a malicious smile slowly spread across his face. "I know what to do," he said.

56

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Six "Lara!" She looked up, interrupted from her thoughts of Matthew, seeing her young sister hurrying toward her. "Kathleen! Are you all right?" Kathleen flung herself upon the bed, her arms wrapping around the too thin form of her sister. "Why did you not tell me how bad off we were? Why did you not tell me of Mr. Reynolds or of the money problems?" "I was taking care of that, love. Are you all right?" Kathleen looked up into the caring face of her sister and felt a rush of memories of the morning. She stared at her for a moment before bursting into tears and burying her face in her sister's lap. "H...he tried to hurt me, Lara," she managed to get out between sobs. "Who tried to hurt you?" She sat up, her hands slipping over her sister's back, rubbing gently. "Was it the Duke's man? I'll have him thrown into the..." "No, Lara." Kathleen looked up at her, her face flushed and stained with tears. "Mr. Reversham was kind and wonderful. It was Mr. Reynolds and then F-father who tried to hurt me." "Mr. Reynolds?" Lara felt her stomach drop at the thought of that horrid old man and his lecherous eyes and hands. "What did he do, Kathleen? Did he harm you?" "H-he pushed me into the l-library, Lara. He said you'd made him promises if you didn't have the rent money for when he returned. Did you make him promises, Lara?" Lara gently pushed Kathleen's blonde curls from her damp face. "I only promised to have the rent monies, sweetheart, nothing more. What did he do?" "H-he tore my gown, he ripped it in half, Lara." Huge tears clung to her thick lashes, falling onto the curve of her cheeks and sliding down. "It was so humiliating, Lara." She dropped her head back into her sister's lap and sobbed.

57

WENDY STONE

"Kathleen, you must tell me. Did he..." Lara felt rage flame inside of her, a killing kind of hatred that had her shaking. "Did he do anything else?" "He touched me, d-down th-there. Then he unbuttoned his pants and..." Another series of sobs shook her shoulders, rendering her incoherent as she said more that Lara couldn't understand. "Slow down, Kathleen. Take a deep breath and tell me the rest," Lara said, stroking her younger sister's hair, fear and anger fighting to take precedence in her emotions. "F-father stopped him, Lara," she said finally, raising her eyes once more to Lara's. "H-he came into the library and Mr. Reynolds let me go. He argued with Father, but Father gave him some money and he left. Ththen..." Kathleen felt her stomach lurch and prayed she wouldn't be sick at the thought of what their father had tried to do. "Then..." Lara began for her, stroking a comforting hand over her shoulders. "You can tell me, Kathleen. I won't be angry and I won't let anyone hurt you again, you know that." "B-but it was Father, and what if he decides to force me to come back to him? He is our father, Lara. What if the Duke won't let me stay with you after you marry? What if he sends me back?" Lara stared down at the panicked face of the girl, hating her father more than she had ever in her life hated anyone. "Matthew promised that you could come and stay with us and live here, Kathleen. He is a man of his word." Oh, how she hoped he truly was a man of his word, Lara realized, seeing some of the worry drain from her sister's face. "Now, take a deep breath and tell me what happened with Father." Kathleen closed her eyes, rubbing at them with her fists like a small child would. She let her head fall back into Lara's lap, feeling her soft hands running over her hair. With a deep sigh, she began. Lara was pale and shaken, she knew what her father had wanted of her sister and it sickened her. "Well, you weren't hurt, and it sounds as if Mr. Reversham took care of Father, at least for a while. We should just forget it happened, Kathleen. We'll start anew, from right this minute, okay?" Kathleen nodded, not lifting her head from Lara's lap. There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Ethelridge entered, followed by two maids. Each of the younger women carried a tray brimming with food. Mrs. Ethelridge cleared the other tray off the bed and motioned for the maids to bring the new ones forward. "I figured, miss, with all of your

58

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

company you wouldn't have had much chance to eat and your food would probably be cold by now. I took the liberty of preparing luncheon for both you and the young miss. I hope that is agreeable?" "Thank you, Mrs. Ethelridge. Kathleen, this is Mrs. Ethelridge, the Duke's housekeeper." Kathleen sat up, smiling shyly at the older woman, who nodded her head. "I have your rooms being prepared for you as we speak, Miss Kathleen. They should be ready after you eat." Then she hustled the two maids out of the room and left the sisters to eat. **** Kathleen stared in awe at the rooms that she'd been given. They were beautiful, decorated in bright yellow roses and cream-colored daisies that ran in riotous color over the bed hangings and linens. The walls were draped with lighter yellow silk, and thick carpeting was placed on the floor. She'd explored all the doors, finding a bathing chamber with a deep tub to one side, while another room was used for dressing and a third was used as a sitting room, all decorated in the same shades of yellow. She'd opened the wardrobe, seeing her meager collection of gowns hung in one tiny section. They looked shabbier amidst the wealth of the room, and she couldn't help the shame she felt that they weren't better. Finally, with a sigh, she went to the wide French doors that looked out over a huge balcony. Opening the doors, she shivered as a cold wind blew over her skin and almost changed her mind about exploring further, but she persevered, stepping over the threshold and onto the wide marble floor. Crossing to the balustrade, she stared down into the gardens, trying to imagine how they would look in the summer, when the flowers would bloom, their sweet smells merging to carry on the wind up to the balcony. She could almost picture the roses and lilies, petunias, and lilacs that would fill the garden with their blooms. "It is a beautiful place in the summer." Kathleen whirled at the sound of the strange male voice, her hair twirling out around her in a pale blonde wave of silk. "Oh, I thought I was alone. You startled me." Her hand went to the neckline of her gown, where her pulse beat frantically against the pale skin of her throat. "I am sorry. I didn't realize the Duke had company, especially one of such beauty." He strode forward, the weak sun that managed to peek from behind the clouds shining against the bright blonde of his hair. He bowed

59

WENDY STONE

low before her, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. Kathleen felt the brush of them against her knuckle. "I am the Duke's neighbor and childhood friend, Robert Denton, my lady. And let me guess, you must be Rapunzel with the long golden hair. Or perhaps you are Sleeping Beauty and I've come to rescue you before you fall to the curse of the evil witch." He smiled up at her, his blue eyes sparkling with charm and humor. "Nothing quite as fancy as that, I fear, sir," Kathleen said softly, finding herself charmed despite her fear. "I am nothing more than Kathleen. My older sister, Lara, is marrying the Duke in three weeks time." "The Duke is to be wed? How have I not heard this happy news before now?" Robert was surprised. He hadn't thought Matthew would marrry until he was a doddering old fool, too old to catch the maids himself anymore. Then he would use his title and seduce some innocent virgin, getting her pregnant and getting himself heirs. "It is a recent event, sir." Kathleen was aware that Robert still held her hand, not having released it since he took it. Instead, his thumb brushed with gentle pressure across her palm, leaving a tickling feeling to erupt in the depths of her stomach. It wasn't a terrible feeling, but one that left her strangely disquieted. "But who is this Lara that he weds? I don't believe I have heard this name before. It is not English, is it Welsh?" He led her toward a small bench situated to overlook the gardens. It would be a beautiful place to sit in the middle of a summer day. Kathleen shivered in the chill wind, sitting down and looking with longing at the still open doorway back into her room where she could see a nice warm fire roaring on the grate. But then she looked into Robert's handsome blue eyes, seeing his smile, and she decided that being a trifle chilled was worth a few moments with such a charming suitor. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss Kathleen." Robert stood and doffed his heavy coat, revealing a lighter weight blue coat under it. He twirled the coat, cape-like, across her shoulders, buttoning the top button snugly under her chin. "I just wished for a touch more time to converse with you. With all the stricture of society, it's so hard to get to know a lovely and intelligent woman, especially when most times there are so many chaperones, you can barely sit with her. I hope you don't mind?" he asked smiling winningly at her. "N...no I am enjoying your company as well, Mr. Denton."

60

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Robert, please. We're neighbors and practically family, considering the amount of time I spent here with Matthew and his sisters as they were growing up. What a rowdy group we all were." He smiled, sitting next to her and turning on the bench so he faced her more. "I'm an only child, so the time I spent here with Matthew and his family was very memorable to me." "Does the Duke have many sisters?" Kathleen asked, feeling her face flush at her forwardness. "He has three younger than he and one who is older by a few years, I do believe." Robert leaned forward and took her hand in his again, playing with her slender fingers. "Is it just you and your sister?" "A...and my father," Kathleen said, her face paling as she mentioned him. Even now she could still remember her fear as he stared at her naked form, the look in his eyes so strange and almost evil. "Perhaps I know the good fellow?" he asked, not noticing her pallor. "N...no, I don't think so." Kathleen rose, wanting to get away from her thoughts of today and all that had happened. "I...I must go back, sir, my sister shall be wondering w...where I am." She unbuttoned his coat, handing that warm garment back to him and dipping into a short curtsey before turning to go back through the doors she'd left open. She pulled the heavy curtains across them and went to the bed to throw herself upon the soft mattress. *** * Robert stared in confusion as the girl ran from his company, hearing the loud click of the lock as she shut the door behind herself. An idea was forming in his head that had a smile of pure evil intent forming on his handsome mouth. He turned from the room and threw the cloak around himself, smelling the freshness of her upon the soft material, then turned and headed back the way he'd come. **** Lara was dreaming. She'd fallen asleep not long after finishing the hearty luncheon that Mrs. Ethelridge had brought them, feeling full for the first time in months. Her sister had left not long after that with the idea of resting herself, and Lara sunk back upon the many soft pillows, letting her cheek rest upon their cool silky linens, her eyes closing and sleep finding her quickly. Now she was dreaming, her heart racing as she could hear the thump of Mr. Reynolds' hated cane in her dreams. He chased her from room to room in the small manor house, holding her sister's torn and bloody gown

61

WENDY STONE

up high in triumph, demanding his rent monies. Lara turned, fighting against the torn gown that he thrust into her face, pushing him back and away from her until she could once more look up. Her father stood there, Kathleen's naked body held tightly in his hands. As she stared in horror, he caressed her skin, bruising her softness with his rough hands all the while Kathleen cried out in shock and horror, screaming for Lara to help her. Lara tried—she raced forward, grabbing hold of Kathleen's arm and pulling hard, trying to wrench her little sister from the sick and perverted hold of her father. She slapped at his hands, raking his once handsome face with her nails, screaming at him, tears and sobs of pain and anger torn from her body. Then suddenly they were gone and she was alone, stuck in the tower room. The door was closed, locked tightly against her leaving. The room was a shambles, furniture broken and overturned. The bed where she'd given herself to the Duke was ripped apart, feathers from the mattress floating down and making it look as if a blizzard had blown through, leaving drifts of snowy white everywhere. At the window was the lady. Her hair was black as tar, thick and heavy, a streak of white starting at the peak of her forehead and sweeping across the length in a startling display. Her face would have been pretty but for the pinched look of disapproval that furled her brow and caused her eyebrows to draw together. Her lips were pursed, giving her the look of someone who'd smelled something fetid. Dressed only in that white gown that covered her from the high neckline to the tips of her wrists and toes, she seemed an eerie presence. She stared at Lara, her eyes black with hatred, blazing with the fires of hell. "You are no better than he, no better than any of them." The words were spoken harshly, though the woman's mouth did not move. Her arm rose, pointing at the bed where the bright red proof of her innocence laid, an accusation, an exclamation of guilt upon the torn fabric. "You whored yourself with him. You gave him your body with no ring or vows spoken. He will take you again, until you fall in love with him and then he shall do what they all do when a woman is soft and giving. He will move on." Lara shook her head. "No. We are to be wed." The woman laughed, the sound ugly and harsh. "Wedded or not, he will leave you just as I was left. Our fates are the same." Then she turned, picking up the chair and throwing it into the glass before rushing to Lara to

62

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

grab her arm. "Our fates are the same. We shall die!" The last syllable stretched out thinly in the cold air that rushed through the broken window. Lara felt herself drawn forward, felt her arm held in a grasp of ice too strong for her to break. She saw the woman's face, the madness that held her gaze, and the broken glass of the shattered window as she was pushed toward it with the strength of the damned. "Die!" the woman screamed, pushing Lara through the window. Lara screamed herself, her fingers scrabbling against the sides of the frame, her body tumbling forward into space. Then she was falling, her hair flying around her, and Matthew's name upon her lips as the ground came rushing up to her. "Wake up, Lara!" Matthew's hands were on her arms, pulling her up and into his embrace, holding her even as she fought against him. "We are to be wed," she screamed at him before her eyes flashed open, staring around her in the dim light of the pulled bed curtains. "Matthew?" she asked, looking up at him with eyes wild with fear. Matthew felt her arms latch onto him where once they had fought his hold. She pushed her face into his neck, and he felt her tears against his skin. "Lara, love, it was just a dream. Don't cry, please," he begged, stroking his hands down her back. "S...she said our fates were the same," she sobbed into his neck. "Who said that, Lara? What fate?" He ran his hands up her arms, pulling them from around his neck so that he could look into her terrified face. "Who did you see, love?" "The lady in the t...tower." She sniffled, wiping her tears on the long sleeves of her nightdress. "She said that our fates were the same, to be left alone to die." "Oh, Lara," he said, seeing the fear in her eyes. "That is not your fate. You aren't alone. I'm here, and in a few weeks we shall be married, love. It was just a dream." He drew her back against him, his hands slipping over her back with long strokes meant to comfort. "We'll live a long life and rock our grandbabies on our knees." "Who is she, Matthew? Why does she seem to hate so much?" She leaned against his solid form, feeling the strength of his arms holding her with such gentleness, the reassuring sound of his heart beating in her ear and felt safe. "Here," he said, pulling away to turn and lie on top of the coverlet, his back against the pillows, making himself comfortable. "If I'm to tell this

63

WENDY STONE

story, we might as well be comfortable while I do. Now come here so I may hold you as I wish to." He held out his arms, smiling at her. She went into his arms as if she were coming home, feeling them close around her as she snuggled against his side, safe and warm. He waited until she stilled, her head pressed against his neck, her hair silky against his cheek. Then he began. "When I was a child, my grandfather told me the story of his great grandmother, who married and moved into this castle. She was an odd lady, believed in ghosts and goblins and all the dark tales of evil you've ever heard spouted in the depths of the night." He slipped his hand over her hair, glancing down to see her amber eyes open and looking back at him. With a sly grin, he stole a quick kiss before continuing. "She believed some evil witch had designs on her husband and was planning to steal him away on some witchy holiday or another. But in reality, he'd grown tired of her accusations and her dark stories and weird ways. He left her here at the castle while he went to his lover. Some kind of strange storm brewed and enveloped the castle in wild winds and towering bolts of lightning. When the storm dispersed the next day, her body was found at the base of the tower. It was thought that she fell from the tower room, tripping and going through the window while she waited and watched for her husband to come back to her." "She didn't fall," Lara said slowly, her breath tickling his neck. "She jumped." "Now, Lara, there's no way to prove either, and it's an old story, one that is depressing at the very least." He smoothed his hand down her hair, enjoying the warmth of her soft body against his chest. "I know she jumped, Matthew. I saw her that night I was alone in the tower. She was sitting at the window, watching outside and crying. Then she stood and threw the chair at the glass before throwing herself out. I heard her screams in my head." She sat up, placing her hand on his chest to look into his face. "Lara, you were distraught and scared. I'd been a beast to you, I'm embarrassed to say. I should never have left you there. If I'd have known how you were living, what you father had done to you, I'd have never..." he stopped, feeling her slender fingers pressing against his mouth. Her eyes were soft with emotion as she stared down at him. "Shush, it never happened," she said softly. "You couldn't have known since I didn't tell you. So you aren't to blame for what happened."

64

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Matthew pressed a kiss to her fingers, taking her hand in his and bringing it back to his chest. "I was angry and enraged by your persistent refusal to marry me. I was absolutely horrid to you and you should take me to task for it, Lara. You shouldn't forgive me so easily." "Ah, but Matthew, I get the last laugh, for now you shall marry me and be stuck with me for the rest of our lives." She chuckled softly, enjoying their play. "Hmm, perhaps I shall have to drag you back to the tower and pitch you off," he said, laughing and dragging her closer. "But alas, I have no time now to end my torment with you. I came in to tell you that I must leave for the rest of the day." Lara's pout made him laugh. "Rest assured, love. I shall not tarry upon my mission but will return to your side as soon as is humanly possible. If it were not urgent, I would let the matter rest a few days while my bride to be and I got to know each other better." "Where do you go?" she asked, biting her lip to keep from asking him to stay. The changes in her life were happening too quickly, so much so soon, it made her wary of any other change. "It is just a quick trip to the coast, my love, to escort a friend who will be leaving these shores. I shall return tonight, though probably late, so you are not to wait up for me. Tomorrow, I would love to show you and your sister around the grounds and let you get to know Barclay Castle. Of course, I promise, the tour won't include a trip to the tower." "You'll be careful, will you not, Matthew?" she asked, feeling a hint of worry. He smiled into her lovely amber eyes, bringing her down for a soft kiss before swinging his feet off of the coverlet and sitting up. "I shall return to you tonight, Lara. Never fear." One more kiss, this one neither so soft nor swift, and he headed for the door, turning to smile once more before disappearing through the heavy portal.

65

WENDY STONE

Chapter Seven The day dragged after had Matthew left, leaving Lara alone in her room. The bed, which had once beckoned her with sweet thoughts of sleep, now seemed a place of terror after the horror of the nightmare that had held her trapped. She wandered the room, exploring the doorways and peeking into the one that led to Matthew's rooms. A fire was banked in the grate, letting off some heat and a little light as she stood in the doorway, indecisive. She didn't want to pry but she couldn't help but feel curious about this man who would be her husband in three weeks time. "Oh, faugh," she said softly, making up her mind and slipping through the door, leaving it cracked behind her. Where her room was feminine, done in pinks and creams, the materials soft and inviting, his was masculine. Bright red damask covered the heavy dark furniture and draped as the bed hangings. Reds and browns were in the material that covered the bed in a thick sward of satin. Pillows were piled on the bed, thrown haphazardly against the headboard as if someone had sat there to rest and moved them to find a comfortable position. Lara leaned over, smoothing the coverlet and replacing the pillows, taking pride in placing them perfectly. She saw his shirt upon the floor, the seam ripped under the arm. Lifting it, she brought the fabric to her nose, smelling him in the scent that clung to the weave. The scent of him brought a shuddering of a memory to mind, a time in the tower when her body clung to his, desperate for his next touch, his next kiss. With a cry, she dropped the shirt, twirling in a circle as she tried to understand the emotion she was feeling. She'd known him for less than three days, had been attacked by him, locked away and left in a haunted tower. She'd been seduced and taken by him with such sweet pleasure that it had taken her breath, taunted and tormented by him and then within the next day, comforted and protected. It was no wonder that her mind was awhirl with conflicting emotions.

66

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

But his scent brought a throbbing to her loins, one that she scarcely understood. It made her yearn for the sensation of his arms around her, his mouth against hers. She wanted to feel him between her thighs again, the way he'd been just hours before. With a sigh, she reached down and picked up the shirt once more, folding it carefully and smoothing it with her hands. She laid the folded garment upon the foot of his bed, looking around once more before turning to return to the rooms next to his. Her body ached, her mind kept returning to that moment when he'd made her his, when he'd pushed that part of him that made him so male into her. There had been pain, but under it, just hidden had been a rush of pleasure that had been delicious in its magnitude. She wanted to feel that pleasure again. Carefully closing the door behind her, she was returning to the bed when there was a knock upon her door. "Come," she called, covering her legs with the thick coverlet. "Miss," Mrs. Ethelridge said, opening the door and ushering in the same two maids as earlier. "His lordship thought that you would prefer to have dinner here tonight instead of trying to find your way around the castle without him." She waved in two of the footmen who carried a small table in, setting it close to the fire. It was set with fine linen and bone china, crystal and silverware. Then a tempting, aromatic platter was brought in and placed upon one side of the table. "Has my sister eaten yet, Mrs. Ethelridge?" Lara asked, rising from the bed when the footmen left the room. "Yes, she rang for me earlier. She was very tired from the long trip and wanted to retire early. I told her I would let you know, miss." She went to the door that separated Lara's room from Matthew's, slipping inside to return moments later, a heavy bathrobe draped across her arm. "I don't think his lordship would mind if you borrowed this, miss. It would be warmer than what you are wearing," she said, helping Lara into the robe. It was heavy and emerald green in color, smelling of Matthew. The warmth was wonderful, making her feel as if Matthew had wrapped her in his arms, holding her closely. She sat and ate her dinner, staring into the fire and breathing in his scent. **** Matthew entered his room, laughing quietly to himself as he thought of Sir Edward's eyes as he beheld his new home for the next month or so. The Bonnie Lass was a cargo ship, its holds full to brimming with supplies

67

WENDY STONE

to be taken to one of her Majesty's outposts. The Lass had been stranded, her crew taken ill. Sir Edward was to take the place of one of the crewmen who hadn't survived the illness. He'd blustered and cursed, ranted, and even tried to throw a punch or two, but in the end the transaction was made, monies changed hands and Sir Edward had been stowed below decks. He would be allowed out when the Lass was well out to sea, told to work or he didn't eat. They had made good time, Giles whipping up the horses with a skill he'd been unable to find in any other driver he'd ever had, though he didn't consider Giles a servant. He considered him a friend, one whom he would trust with his most prized possessions and even his own life. His valet had been busy, coaxing the fire to a dancing roar that heated the room nicely. His bed was turned back, his room tidied from earlier. There was a tray of crystal tumblers and snifters set out with three cut crystal decanters in case he was in the mood for a drink before bed. He ignored the tray, instead going to the connecting door between his room and Lara's and listening closely. No noise came from her side of the door. Matthew was amazed at the spurt of disappointment he felt. It was far too late for him to go to her tonight, and she needed her rest. He reached up and pulled off the cravat he was wearing, flicking open buttons on his shirt and doffing his coat to let it lay over one of the chairs by the fire, knowing his valet would take care of it in the morning. He should be tired, for the trip had been long in the way of miles, though they had covered it quickly. But he wasn't, instead he felt invigorated in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Pacing the floor, he paused by the door once more, listening intently. Was that a moan? Could she be having another bad dream? He stared at the door and made his decision, reaching for the handle and turning it silently, slipping through to close it quietly behind him. Moonlight flooded her huge room through the glass of the French doors. It highlighted the room, creating shadows that turned furniture into beastly shapes that stalked the slender figure lying under the satiny sheet on the bed. It shone in the silky length of her golden hair, glowed with sleek luster upon her pale skin. He stood in the doorway, studying the outline of her body that was bared by the soft sheet as it clung to her curves with the faithfulness of a lover's hand. She's beautiful, he thought, watching as she moved her thin hand over the surface of the sheet. He couldn't help but remember how that

68

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

hand felt upon his skin, caressing his body, creating a chaotic mixture of emotions too complex to understand. One thing he understood, he wanted her with a passion he'd felt for no other. She was under his skin and in his blood. One thought of her would leave him hard and aching to possess her slim loveliness. How long would it take to sate himself of her slender beauty? How quickly would he lose interest in burying his cock in that pink flesh between her thighs? How many times would he have to bed her before he found himself no longer thinking of her every moment? With a sigh of disgust at his thoughts, he settled himself carefully on the side of her bed, his hand coming out to brush a stray curl from her slender cheek. She stirred and he felt his breath catch and hold. Would she wake? Should he leave her before her eyes opened? The doubts he felt for himself when he was around her annoyed him and he forced himself to be still, waiting for those lovely amber eyes to open and her gaze to fall upon him. Lara sighed, her sleepy gaze shifting around the beautiful room. She was still wearing Matthew's robe and his scent seemed to surround her even more. She shifted upon the soft bed, her head turning upon the cool pillows. She saw his body surrounded in moonlight, making the white of his shirt seem almost to glow. His face was shadowed, his hair loose around his shoulders, hiding his expression, but she knew he watched her. "Matthew?" she said, shifting to sit up in the bed. "Is all well?" "Yes, all went well. But I wish not to discuss that now," he said. Or ever, if he had his way. How she would take what he'd decided to have done with her father, he didn't know. The captain of the Lass had been paid quite handsomely to ensure that Edward wouldn't be returning to these shores anytime in the near future. "I hope I didn't wake you, I but wanted to make sure you were okay before I retired." "I am well. Your staff has been treating me like a princess," she said, wishing she could see his face or even just the expression in his eyes. "If they continue, I could get spoiled and grow fat and lazy," she told him, her voice teasing. "Be warned, I could grow to like this treatment so much, I might demand it when I become your wife." "I am certain I can come up with some way to keep you from growing fat and lazy, my love. But I'm thinking that I might be the one who wishes to spoil you the most. I believe it's time you were spoiled for a while." He pushed a lock of her hair off of her face and behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on the softness of her skin. Then he noticed that instead of the white of her shift, her figure was clothed in a dark color. "Is that my

69

WENDY STONE

robe?" he asked, his gaze roaming over how it wrapped around her slender figure almost twice, tied tightly at her waist, the sleeves rolled up to expose the tips of her fingers. "Yes, your grace. Your Mrs. Ethelridge brought it to keep me warm while I dined. It was so comfortable; I have yet to return it to you. Do you mind?" she asked him, staring up into his face, with a small smile upon her face. "Hmm, I shall have to get you one of your own," he said, reaching out to run one long finger down the crossed lapel that draped over her breast. "What do you have on under this?" he asked, pulling on the soft material a little as if he would check himself. "Your grace!" Lara's shocked voice rang out, her cheeks blushing hotly. Matthew chuckled, enjoying her expression of embarrassed outrage. He'd seen just the hint of pale skin in the moonlight where her shift should have lain and knew that she was bare beneath the warm fabric . "Perhaps I should ask for mine back now?" he mused aloud, watching as her skin reddened more. "It is not nice to tease me so, Matthew," Lara said, her voice scolding him. "What would lead you to believe that I'm teasing?" he whispered, coming closer to smell her scent. "There is nothing I would like better than to climb into this bed with you right now, Lara. I long to feel you under me again, love." He watched as her eyes grew huge, wondering if she remembered as he did how it had felt between the two of them that morning, how he'd stretched her upon his fingers, the pleasure that he'd given her. Her skin flushed under his gaze and he knew she'd be warm and welcoming. Then her face grew determined and she patted the space beside her, biting her lip nervously as she waited for his reaction. Matthew felt his cock grow hard at the simple movement she made. It was such a small thing that meant so incredibly much. Every time something had happened between them, he had been the aggressor. Now, she was letting him know, telling him with that one small gesture that she wanted him also. He stared at her for an instant and then his hand came up, tangling in the thick mane of her blonde curls, drawing her face closer to his. His mouth found hers, hearing her sigh his name, watching as her eyes fluttered shut before closing his own to enjoy the soft heat of her lips, the

70

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

damp pleasure of her mouth. His tongue flicked against her bottom lip, dipped inside of her mouth to taste of her passion. Her response wrenched a deep moan from his chest as her tongue tangled wildly with his, her mouth moving under his with a wanton desire he hadn't expected to find in one so innocent. He felt her rise to her knees next to him, the blanket thrown back to allow her access of movement. When her hands touched his face, he stilled, feeling the bandages that she still wore, then the smooth, warm touch of her fingers on his cheek. She slid her fingers into his hair, curving to trace the whorl of his ear, before sliding down the side of his neck. Trembling, her fingers found the warm line of his chest, and slid down the front to trace around the small buttons that still held his shirt closed. He felt a quick tug of her fingers and the first button was undone, leaving more of his chest exposed to her soft hands. Lara pulled from the kiss, her eyes going to admire the flesh she'd exposed, her fingers finding the next button. "Lara," he groaned as her fingers brushed sensitive skin. "You're going to drive me mad. I feel like I've wanted you forever." An instant of shock made him still and he realized in that instant it wasn't just words to use to get what he wanted from a woman. With Lara, he actually meant them. His heart raced, beating so hard he thought it would escape his chest. He knew she must feel it beneath her stroking hand and hear it in the quiet of the room. When she rose higher on the bed, leaning against him to push the soft white fabric of his shirt from his shoulders, Lara couldn't believe her daring. She was seducing this rakehell of her own volition and enjoying every forbidden moment. She knew that society would more than frown on her behavior, they would be scandalized if they could see what she was doing right now. But in her mind, she knew that they would wed in just a short time and she'd already given herself to him. And she felt that if he didn't touch her, she would go up in flames. Her lips found the warm skin of his bare shoulder, parting just a little to allow her tongue to dart out, tasting his skin. She felt him struggling with the sleeves of his shirt, trying to get them over his hands but she didn't stop to help him. She wanted to do the things to him that he'd done to her, so many things. Some of which she didn't dare think of or she'd back out, too frightened of his reaction. Her hands were on his chest, tracing lines over his smooth flesh, her mouth traveling lower to his collar bone, stopping to taste the small

71

WENDY STONE

hollows that lay above. Over the hard plains of his chest she moved with unhurried grace, using her lips, tongue, and teeth to seduce the seducer. Matthew forgot how to breathe when her small mouth found the flat, dark disk of skin that surrounded his nipple. It came back in a rush when she latched onto him, tugging at his nipple with her teeth, lapping at it with her tongue. With a groan of need, he ripped at the shirt sleeves, hearing the fabric tear with an uncaring ear. He wanted his hands on her, needed them to be full of her soft feminine flesh. He wanted to push her back on the bed, flip open his robe, and thrust his hard cock inside of her until all he heard from her mouth was his name, harshly spoken in orgasmic bliss. Lara felt herself borne backward onto the bed, Matthew's hands busily unwrapping her from his too big robe. The lapels parted, exposing one firm breast to his eyes, and he stopped, his mouth finding her as if she was a feast and he was starving. "Matthew!" she cried out, her hands going to his head, feeling the firm tug of his mouth all the way to her womb. His teeth nibbled and she arched under him, pulling him tighter against her, unable to stop the movements of her body against him. Her thighs grew lax, her body softening and opening for him. Matthew let her nipple fall from his mouth, yanking on the ties and opening the robe the rest of the way. He slid lower on her body, feeling the soft pale skin on the inside of her thighs rub against his sides as he pushed between her legs. Lara watched him, wide-eyed, as he slipped down further, his mouth sliding over the soft, taut skin of her stomach and ribs. "Matthew? What are you...oh!" she cried out as his mouth moved closer, his tongue slipping through the satiny soft curls that covered her sex. She pulled at his head, trying to stop him, soft keening noises coming from her mouth as his tongue slid between her swollen lips, tasting her sweet juices with a soft hum of masculine pleasure. His arms slid beneath her thighs, his shoulders holding her open to his lips and tongue as his hands grabbed her wrists, holding them down so that she had no choice but to allow him to continue. Lara moaned, gasping as his tongue found the hard bud of her clit, toying with it to his heart's content. He was surrounded by her, the soft sounds of her moaning cries filling his ears, the taste of her sweet cunt in his mouth, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. Her heat lay against him and under him, the soft, silky texture of her skin as arousing as her taste. He was drowning in her and wasn't willing to let the pleasure end.

72

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Sliding his tongue down the wet channel of her sex, he lapped at her juices, his eyes on her face as he brought her ever closer to a burning ecstasy of climax. Slowly he let loose of her wrists, laying one of his hands on her stomach just above the slight rise of her mound, his thumb sliding through the soft, blonde curls. The other hand slipped beneath him, pushing two gentle fingers into her wetness. He stroked slowly with those fingers, his tongue flicking and circling her clit, feeling her tighten up more and more until suddenly, with a flutter of muscles that drew his fingers deeper inside her wet heat, she came. Lara could barely breathe; she could see his eyes staring up at her, their green gaze expectant as he worked between her thighs with his talented tongue and fingers. He held her close no matter how she struggled to get away. But then her hips began to undulate, her slender thighs shaking as pleasure built between. Her body seemed to almost collapse into itself, heated prickly waves of pleasure flowing with sensual effect across her nerve endings. She bit her lip, feeling the sting of her teeth, trying to keep from screaming her pleasure but still torturous little cries erupted from her. "Matthew?" she called, her voice breaking. Stroking two fingers into the softness of her pink fleshy cunt, Matthew stared up at her with amazement. She was so erotically responsive, her body seeming to be attuned to his as if they had been making love for centuries instead of less than twenty-four hours. He reached down with his other hand, desperate to free his hard cock from its confining material prison. Lara felt him against her leg, his cock hard and hot, the skin surprisingly soft. Her body seemed limp, as if she'd never move again. She moaned when he moved up her body, sliding slowly over her until she could feel the tip of his cock slipping along the wet channel of her sex. The tip found her delicate opening, the head pushing inside with gentle persuasion, retreating a fraction if he met resistance. Her body opened for his possession, her thighs coming up to hug at his waist. She could feel the rough material of his breeches against her legs, feel the buttons pressing against her stomach in tiny stinging pains that just seemed to make the pleasure so much stronger. His mouth found her breast, his lips gliding around the beaded tip, nipping and nibbling until her hands came around him, her nails digging into the skin of his back.

73

WENDY STONE

"Oh, God, yes, Lara," he moaned as she kneaded his flesh. His thrusts grew stronger, his eyes closed as he concentrated on that sweet, heated friction that her tightness held around him. Her little mewls and cries of pleasure spurred him on and he suddenly pulled out from her, his hard hands lifting her until she knelt on the bed, her body facing away from him. He lifted her slightly by the waist, bending her over his arm, pushing into her hot cunt from behind. He watched her through hooded eyes as she tried to find her balance, unable to brace herself because he wouldn't allow it. He held her immobile against him as he started moving inside of her again. Lara couldn't believe how incredibly full he made her feel. She felt him pull his robe from the rest of her body, throwing it to the floor next to the bed. He pushed against her hard and she groaned, not from pain but from a starburst of pleasure unlike anything she'd felt before. It seemed to burst before her eyes, leaving her dazzled and breathless, unable to form coherent thought. She could do nothing but hang onto his arms and feel. Matthew pounded into her with a ruthlessness that was impossible to ignore. He held her easily in his strong hands, staring down at her naked body, watching his cock as it tortured her with almost unbearable pleasure. He felt her body arch, felt her hands digging into his arms even as his name burst from her lips. Lifting her, he held her against his chest, his mouth finding the salty sweet taste of the flesh at her throat. "More," he urged her, groaning as he felt the satiny muscles of her cunt clamp down around his cock, the pressure creating a friction that had him gritting his teeth against the urge to spill his seed deep in her. "Not yet," he panted, his deep voice husky and urgent. Even the tiniest movement of his body sent shivers of pleasure and need through hers, creating sublime sensations that she'd never felt, giving her bliss she'd never known existed before this moment. That morning in the tower, the things he'd done had felt good, the pleasure had been there. But it was nothing like the trembling, earth shattering ecstasy Matthew had just wrought within her flesh. Her body tingled, her skin felt as if she could feel every nerve ending as a separate current of warmth and joy. And still he moved within her, forcing her to feel it again, the incredible building desire that burst inside her stomach tightening to almost painful pleasure. "M-Matthew, I...I can't..."

74

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Yes," he said, his mouth pressed to her ear, his hips thrusting against her. He let his hand slide from her waist, watching as it pressed against her soft mound, his fingers slipping through wet curls to find her clit. "Yes," he said again as she squirmed under his teasing fingers. "You can, once more, Lara. Once more and I'll be with you this time, my love," he growled, his body pounding into her, soft grunts of pleasure coming from his mouth. He pressed down on her clit, pinching the bundle of nerves, and felt her hands scratching against his arms, pleasure bombarding her until she couldn't breathe, hen again as she felt the scorching heat of his pearly seed spurting deep within her body. She felt him tremble against her, jerking as he pushed deeper. Then she floated, as if on a cloud. Her body settled into softness, with a heavy warmth at her back. Small, loving kisses were scattered against her shoulder and she turned her face toward the source. His lips covered hers and she felt his warmth leave her, only to return a few moments later followed by the sleek feel of the satin coverlet against her skin. His body pressed warmly against her back, his arm heavy over her waist. Sleep took her quickly, cradling her in the heated bliss of his lovemaking and the comforting safety of his strong arms. When she woke, her body aching pleasantly, she moved her hand along the soft linens, searching for him, a happy smile brimming upon her lips. Her eyes opened when all she found was his pillow, the dent created by his head still evident. Her smile turned to a frown, for Matthew was gone, his robe thrown over the foot of the bed. Lara stared around the room. If it weren't for his pillow and the soreness she felt between her thighs, she might have thought it was only a dream, his coming to her in the middle of the night. She picked up his pillow, throwing it across the room in a fit of temper, and sat up, lifting his robe and pulling it on over her shoulders. Standing, she was just belting the oversized garment around her trim waist when there was a knock on her door. Lara ran to open it, the smile returning even as she pulled it open. Mrs. Ethelridge gasped at the sudden opening of the door, then smiled at seeing her mistress up and about. "Good morning, miss. His lordship thought you might like a bath this morning and then we can check on your bandages." Lara stepped from the door, letting it open so the older woman could come in, followed by several maids who carried buckets full of steaming water. She sat quietly on the bed while the housekeeper cut off her

75

WENDY STONE

bandages and checked the condition of her wounds, then helped her into the steamy bath, scented with just a touch of rose water. It helped the soreness and the aches of using muscles she hadn't known she had. Mrs. Ethelridge went to her wardrobe and took down her only other gown, holding it up and quickly hiding her expression of disgust at its condition. It was as old and threadbare as the other. "His lordship is waiting to break his fast with you, miss," she said, after helping the girl to wash. "Oh, then we must hurry." A smile bloomed on her pretty face and she lifted herself from the tub, readying herself to meet the day.

76

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Eight Dressed, with her golden hair pulled up and tiny curls framing her slender face, Lara stared at herself nervously in the mirror of the dressing table. She nodded her thanks to the maid, Bridgette, whose French accent was so strong as to make her almost unintelligible, and sat quietly until the girl left the room. And then she sat there, her hand on her stomach to control the sickening roiling as her thoughts coiled like ugly snakes in her head. Twice now she had given herself to him, both times he had built a fire in her that she scarce understood. How was it that something she'd always been told was a duty could evoke such intense feelings of pleasure? Was it right for her to feel this with Matthew before the vows were even said? Doubts pricked her like so many pins until she thought she would scream. She stared in the mirror at herself, seeing the same hair, the same face, and the same eyes she'd had before she'd come to this place. How could she feel so differently inside, knowing what she knew now and not have that knowledge change her? Her gaze fell to her lips, slightly swollen from Matthew's kisses of the night before. Her fingers slowly touched them, tracing their curved shape. Alone, her eyes seem to darken and she gasped for the image of herself in the mirror seemed to be changing. Instead of expertly coiffed golden hair, dark tendrils of inky black covered her head, wildly tangled as if someone had grasped handfuls of the mass and pulled. Her eyes were no longer amber but bottle green, their shape changing to almost be catlike with long spiky lashes of the same black as her hair. Her lips grew fuller, reddened, her chin more pronounced with a small cleft-like dimple. Instead of her old gown, a long white gown covered her from just under her chin, going down to rest against the floor. It buttoned up the front in big pearl-like buttons that gleamed against the material with an opalescent color.

77

WENDY STONE

The vision in the mirror moved her lips, words coming to Lara though she heard no sound. "He'll use you like I was used until there is nothing left for you to give, and then he'll throw you away. You'll be as I was, alone without even your children to gather comfort from for he'll turn them from you, too. Mark my words, it happened to me, it will happen to you." Lara jumped up from the small stool she sat upon, her hand going to her throat and then to her hair, feeling the pins the maid had used to affix her curls in the style she had chosen. She backed away from the mirror, her eyes wide, a scream clogging her throat. Her heart pounded in fright, her body felt cold as ice, as if she'd never be warm again. Summoning all the courage she possessed, she forced herself to take the few steps back to the mirror. Glancing cautiously into the reflective surface, she breathed a sigh of relief, for only her own visage remained. Was this Matthew's relative? The eyes had been the same—that green that seemed almost luminescent. Was she seeing things? Backing slowly away from the mirror, she reached behind her, her hand finding the door handle and turning it, opening the door just a crack so that she could slip through. A sigh escaped her as she managed to flee from the room…until she thought of what waited for her below. **** Voices in the hall outside her door roused Kathleen from her dreams, a welcome thing for they had been dark, leaving her to glance nervously around the bright room, searching for the cause of her nightmare. But he wasn't here and if Lara were to be believed, she would be safe here with her sister for as long as she wished. She stretched languidly upon the soft mattress, her feet kicking at the covers and pulling them from her body. Curious, she stared down at herself, her mind awhirl, wondering what Mr. Reynolds had seen that had impassioned him to the point of rape. Her soft nightgown clung to her slender curves, emphasizing the size of her breasts, the flat, slightly concave curve of her stomach, the lines of her long slim thighs. Did he find her pretty? She couldn't help but wonder. Giles had seen her naked also, she realized. But her naked form hadn't inspired him into any acts of lust. Perhaps he hadn't found her attractive. The thought brought a frown to her pretty mouth, and a disturbing feel of disquiet to her mind. Why should she care what he thought, he was only Matthew's man. He was doing a job, he wasn't there as her suitor. Though part of her wished he had been. He'd been fantastically strong, his

78

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

arms seeming so safe around her. His eyes had been warm and comforting as he had looked down at her, and she thought she had seen a glint of attraction in them, but how was she to know. All she had to compare them to were Mr. Reynolds and her father. "Oh, Father," she whispered aloud, her hands coming up to clench over her stomach. How could he want to do that to her? How could he have saved her from the lecherous Mr. Reynolds and then try to do the same? His eyes had been wild, as if he weren't in his right mind. Had the drink finally made him crazy? This wasn't how she wanted to start this morning, not with all these doubts and bad thoughts. She should be celebrating with her sister; she should be enjoying what his lordship's wealth and stature brought them, and not worrying over a matter that wasn't in her hands anyway. Though if she were going to be forced to go back to Father, she would run away first, she vowed. Getting out of bed, she went to the corner of the room to where the nice Mrs. Ethelridge had shown her the thick velvet pull that would ring the bell in the kitchen. Giving it a tug, she went to her wardrobe, pulled out her only other gown, and started to ready herself for the day. **** Lara slowly walked down the long curved stairway, her feet timid upon the treads. Every so often, she would glance nervously behind her while plucking self consciously at her gown, wishing she owned one that would be fit for what was expected of her here at the castle. Mrs. Ethelridge met her at the bottom of the stairs, smiling her encouragement to her young charge as she showed her the way to the dining room. "This is the smallest of the three dining rooms here in the castle, Miss. His lordship thought it would be nicer for you and your sister to break your fast here." She nodded to the two footmen, who stood outside the wide double doors as they opened them, ushering Lara inside. For being the smallest of three, the table would easily sit twenty, and the fireplace was large enough to walk into. Long windows graced each side of the brick hearth, looking out over the gardens. It had gotten cold during the night, leaving a rim of ice over everything outside and causing it to look as if the garden had been frosted with a thin layer of white icing. Inside, it was warm and cheery. A crackling fire burned in the fireplace, with wonderful aromas rising from a side table where breakfast

79

WENDY STONE

had been laid out. The duke stood as soon as the doors opened and she saw that she was the first to come down. **** Matthew's heart caught in his throat as he saw her in the open doorway. Lara…he hadn't been able to get her from his thoughts all morning. He'd risen early, regretfully leaving her still slumbering form. She'd been warm and soft in her sleep, turning to him in the night and cuddling next to his side, her soft warmth a calming presence, until he woke. Then thoughts of the night before, of her aggressiveness, the pleasure she'd given him and he'd given her had left him hard and aching, wishing to wake her slowly from the inside out. He'd managed by dint of will alone to resist, knowing how embarrassed she would be if someone were to come in, Mrs. Ethelridge or her sister, and find them locked in a lover's embrace. So he'd risen and changed his clothes in his own room, mussing his bed to make his valet think he'd slept there. Then he'd gone to the stables, calling for his horse to be saddled, and rode the fields, his eyes barely seeing the terrain around him. Instead, his thoughts were with the woman whom he'd held through the night, listening to her breathe in the dark before burying his face in her hair and letting sleep take him also. She confused him, bemused him. She made him feel protective and caring, things he hadn't felt for a woman not a member of his family…ever. When he returned from his ride, he was as confused as when he left. He'd hoped to let the cold air brush away the cobwebs and let him be able to think again. Now he sat in the dining room, a cold cup of coffee sitting in front of him, staring into the fire until she came through the door. **** Lara watched as he rose, coming forward to brush a kiss along her knuckles. "Good morning, my bride-to-be. How are you feeling this morning?" Her heart was racing as she beheld the glow in his eyes. All thoughts of the mirror and the image in it faded from her memory. She smiled up at him, self-consciously pleating the skirt of her gown with the hand he wasn't holding. "I am fine, your grace. And yourself? I hope you haven't been waiting long." Matthew smiled. "It is amazing what a good night's sleep will do for a body," he said, his green eyes sparkling.

80

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Lara felt the blush that rose to her cheeks. Her eyes dropped under the heat of his gaze. "It was probably your late night meeting, your grace. Such strenuous activity can be conducive to a good night sleep." "I don't believe it was the meeting, Lara," he said, leaning his head down so that his mouth was close to her ear. "I believe it was the activity that occurred after I arrived home." He stepped closer until his mouth was against her cheek, breathing in her scent, flowers and soap and Lara in a heady aroma that clouded his mind. Lara rested her hand on his chest, her cheeks hot as she turned her face up to his. "Your grace, I fear that this conversation will lead to things best left for the hours after the sun sets." "When we are wed, Lara, I will show you what it is like to make love at all hours," he whispered into her ear, hearing her gasp. His tongue trailed along the soft curl of her ear, flicking her earlobe. "I have a yearning to lead you naked to the gardens and take you amidst the flowers." Lara's heartbeat quickened at the naughty thought of being nude in the sunshine, the soft grass and riotous colors of the flowers around her, Matthew above her, his face tight as he sought to pleasure them both. Her eyes became distinctly hazy as those thoughts aroused her, leaving her moist and throbbing with need between her thighs. "Oh, Matthew," she breathed, her mouth lifting toward his, eager for his kiss. Matthew saw the invitation in her eyes and felt his cock start to swell. Bending his head, he moved slowly toward her mouth, anticipation causing his heart to pound. His lips brushed hers once, then again before he picked up his head. He heard the voices coming from the hall and stepped back, but refused to release her hand. He looked up when two people entered the dining room, his eyes narrowing as they rested upon the blond head of the man escorting Kathleen. "Denton," he growled, his voice gaining an edge that made Lara look up at him in askance. "Matthew, old friend," Robert said, coming forward, his hand outstretched. "How are you? I had heard that you were in residence and that you had your fiancée and her charming sister staying with you. I couldn't resist the urge to come over and extend my congratulations." Matthew stared at the hand the man held out. It galled him, but he reached out and took it, releasing it so quickly as to almost be insulting.

81

WENDY STONE

"No one knows of our engagement, Denton. How were you able to find out so quickly?" Kathleen stepped forward, shyly smiling at the imposing figure of her soon to be brother-in-law. "That is my fault, your grace. I was walking on the balcony yesterday afternoon and met Mr. Denton as he was walking in the gardens. The matter of your engagement came up in conversation. I hope I wasn't too forward?" Her hand fluttered coming to rest just below her breasts, her expressive eyes conveying her worry. "Not at all, my dear. It will be a known fact soon as the banns will post in church the day after next." Matthew hurried to assure his bride's shy sister, seeing the sly glances she gave Robert and fighting not to grit his teeth and throw the bounder out of his home. "I am sure Mama will wish to give you a ball in honor of the happy event," Robert said. He stared at Lara, who stood to the duke's side, her hand held tightly in his grip, her eyes flickering between the two men. "You must be Lara; your sister speaks very highly of you." He reached out, intending to take her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles, but was thwarted when Matthew moved her just behind him. "Yes, and now that you've met her and satisfied your curiosity, I do believe it's time for you to leave, Robert. I'd hate for your mother to worry over where you've taken off to. She knows of your propensity for wandering where you shouldn't be." It was as if walls had closed around the two men for as much attention as they paid the two ladies in their presence. A hostile glare bounced between them. Words that were left unspoken but understood anyway seemed to seethe from one to the other. Lara felt the stiffness of Matthew and tugged on his arm, trying to get his attention. "Your grace," she said softly, "Is something amiss?" Matthew looked down at her. "No, everything is fine, Lara." His eyes softened as he saw her worry and confusion. "I...met Robert when I was coming down the stairs, y-your grace. I took it upon myself to invite him f-for breakfast." Kathleen looked at her feet, feeling the strain in the room like a physical thing. She hadn't meant to cause trouble. Matthew stared from Kathleen's downcast features to Denton, glaring at the man with the hatred he felt. He forced his expression to change, to hide his loathing for the fellow for the sake of the ladies in his presence. "Well, then, I suggest we get to it." He smiled, a smile that was cold when it turned to the blond man, warming only when he met Lara's eyes. He

82

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

held his arm out to her, turning with her to the buffet that had been laid before them. He played the congenial host, fixing Lara's plate and making her laugh by piling the food high. They were all seated at the table when the doors opened once more to admit Giles. He stopped and stared, the strange sight of Robert Denton sitting at a table in this home causing him to falter. Seeing him seated so closely to Kathleen, his head bent to her fair one as she said something to him, caused a strange rage to burn in his gut. "I was wondering what happened to you, Giles." "I overslept, your grace. My apologies." "Nonsense, Giles. We were late returning last night and if not for your skill with the reins, we'd probably have been later." He motioned for his man to fill a plate and join them. Giles did as he was bid, seating himself across from Robert and Kathleen, his eyes resting with distrust and ill ease upon the man. But his expression changed when Kathleen's eyes turned his way and he greeted her with a gentle smile. "I trust you rested well, Miss Kathleen," he said. "Very, Mr. Reversham. His lordship's hospitality leaves little to be desired. I felt as if were some fairytale princess." She smiled at the tall man, her blue eyes sparkling with good humor. "Lara, love, I'd like to introduce you to one of my closest friends. Mr. Giles Reversham. Giles, this is my wife-to-be, Lara Maitland." Lara smiled as the huge man rose from his chair to bow, having witnessed the look in his eyes when he beheld her sister. "Mr. Reversham, please," she said motioning for him to sit and continue eating. "So you were with Matthew last night?" "Oh, yes, ma'am." He smiled. "We were taking care of some garbage." "Don't you have servants here paid to do that?" Kathleen asked Giles, who noted that her interest in Robert seemed to have waned. "Certainly, but some types of offal need a more personal touch," he smirked. "Do you not agree, Matthew?" "I do indeed," Matthew said, lifting his coffee cup in salute before sipping from the cooled brew. Lara watched the interaction between the two men, her brows drawing together in a frown. She could only muse at the meaning of their words, for neither seemed forthcoming with more information. "You found it necessary to deal with garbage at such a late hour, Matthew? That is most strange."

83

WENDY STONE

"Yes, well, sometimes it is necessary to deal with it posthaste. But why are we discussing garbage? I have a surprise for you. And Kathleen, also, of course." "What is it?" Kathleen asked, her eyes lighting up. "Since your trunks were misplaced during your trip here from your home, I wish to replenish your gowns and other necessities. I thought we might take the coach and spend the day at the dressmakers." "You?! At the dressmakers?!" Robert's bark of laughter was cut short as he choked upon a morsel of food. Giles stood, coming around the table and slapping him genially upon the back, almost knocking him from his chair to a smirk of amusement from Matthew. "Yes, Robert. I will gladly accompany my fiancée and her sister on any shopping excursion they feel necessary to go on. I'm told it's one of the duties of being a husband, if a man wishes to keep a coin in his purse." He laughed as Lara reached out and smacked him lightly on the arm. "I will not bankrupt you, your grace," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "My dear, I don't fear the cost of a few gowns and trinkets." He bent his head toward Lara. "The worth far outweighs the cost, for to see you gowned appropriately will be coin well spent." Lara felt her heart leap at his words, her body growing warm under his heated regard. "Thank you, Matthew," she said softly. For in truth, she had wondered how she would hold up the duties of Duchess in only the plain gowns she had. She'd been meaning to ask Mrs. Ethelridge about material and the like to see if she could make her own but worried that her skills with a needle weren't up to the task. Matthew reached out, covering her small hand with his own, careful of the white bandage that covered her palm and wrist. Her eyes shone up at him, regarding him with a light that made his heart beat faster. He could only wish that they were alone so that he could find out just what that light meant. "What happened to your hands, Miss Maitland?" Robert said, deliberately interrupting the moment. "It was a silly accident, sir, nothing to worry about. His lordship's housekeeper has them healing rather quickly. She is a wonder, Matthew. You are lucky to have her." "We," he said emphasizing the word, "are lucky to have her. We are married in all but actual deed, Lara," he said quietly. He turned from her, seeking to break the spell she wove around him whenever she was near.

84

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"You can be ready with the horses, Giles? In about an hour I think? I believe I shall need more protection than what I can provide with two lovely ladies such as these on my arm." "Certainly, Matthew. The coach shall be at the door whenever you say. And I will gladly provide any protection I can." Giles pushed back his plate, readying to rise when he happened to glance at Lara. "Miss Maitland, are you all right?" Matthew turned, feeling the hand that he was holding turn icy in his warm grasp. Lara was sitting rigidly in her chair, her other hand grasping the table so hard her knuckles turned white. Her face was pale, her eyes shadowed and black, the amber iris all but disappeared. "Lara?" Matthew dropped her hand, reaching for her shoulders. "Lara, love, what is it?" he asked, shaking her gently. "My fate is set, my path's been drawn. Death on this day, from knight to pawn. Moves to be made, powers untold. It will happen this day fore the sun grows old," Lara whispered the words, her voice strangely deep. Her gaze rose and moved around the room, lighting on each of those sitting at the table, landing finally on Robert and staying there. Matthew shook her again, harder this time. Her head dropped backward, her eyes closed. She lay limply in his hands. Kathleen rose from her chair, hurrying to her sister's side and dropping to her knees gracefully beside Lara's chair. "Lara, are you all right? What was she saying, Matthew?" Lara moaned quietly and Matthew forgot about answering Kathleen. "Lara, love?" he called to her softly. "Come on, sweetheart, wake up." Her eyes fluttered and then opened, staring up at Matthew, confused. "What happened?" she asked, her voice weak but once again her own. "You don't remember?" Kathleen asked her, reaching for her hand. "What do you remember, Lara?" Matthew asked. "We were discussing going shopping," she said, her hand going to her forehead as if the thought caused her to ache. "Then I felt as if I'd walked outside in a blizzard. It was so cold." She looked up at Matthew, her face pale. "Then you were shaking me, Matthew. Did I faint?" "You remember nothing else, love?" Matthew asked searching her eyes. He saw worry and fear but no deceit in her amber gaze. "N...no. Should I?" He smiled gently at her. "No," he said. "But I think we should let shopping wait for another day when you are feeling stronger. It hasn't been

85

WENDY STONE

many days since your accident and you are probably still feeling the effects." "Oh, no, your grace. I am certain I shall be fine. Besides," she said, looking down at her younger sister who sat so close to her knee, "I am certain that Kathleen would perish from disappointment if we do not go today." "Lara, his lordship could be right, you have been through so much. Perhaps we should listen to him." Kathleen could not help the worry in her tone. Lara had looked so strange and the words she spoke, those dire and threatening words, what could they mean? "I will rest until it is time to go, will that pacify both of you? I am made of more resilient stuff than to let a little accident put me to bed. Please, I do not wish to ruin the plans of the day." She batted her eyelashes up at Matthew, giving him such a pleading look, he moaned. "You are an evil witch," he said, leaning close to place his cheek against hers. "You've got me under some spell that allows you to have your way no matter what my better senses say." He sat back and gave her a stern look. "You will rest until we are ready to go?" "Yes, your grace," she said, giving him an impish smile. He shook his head, chuckling. "Oh, all right then, but I shall escort you up those stairs and see you placed in your bed myself." He rose, pulling back her chair and making her scream when he swooped her up in his arms. "And no better time than the present," he said. "Say goodbye to your guest, Kathleen, and if you would, come and stay with Lara to make sure she stays in bed until it is time to go?" He left the room, giving Giles a nod and a look toward Robert to let him understand not to leave Kathleen alone with the rogue, then went to the curving stairwell, taking them two at a time and pushing open the door to Lara's room. He let her slide down his body, moaning for another reason completely as her soft form brushed against him. "I'm beginning to enjoy carrying you," he said, letting his mouth play against hers for a moment. "But you must get healthy, my love. I would hate to have you pass out on me some night at the wrong moment." He wiggled his dark brows at her, making her laugh. "I'm sure I just need some rest, Matthew. I woke this morning and you were gone," she said. "Is that disappointment I hear in your voice, love? I didn't want you embarrassed in case Mrs. Ethelridge or your sister was to walk in. It

86

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

wouldn't do for them to see me making love to you before the vows were spoken." His hand tugged at one of the small curls that framed her face, smiling as she blushed. "I have a confession to make, your grace," she whispered, looking down at the buttons on his coat. His hand was gentle upon her chin, lifting it so that he could look into her eyes. "And what dastardly deed have you done that you need to confess, Lara?" "I...I wouldn't be..." she started to say when suddenly there was a knock on the partially opened door and Kathleen peeked in, blushing herself to find her sister wrapped in Matthew's arms. "Oh, I...I'm sorry." "Come in, Kathleen. I was just getting ready to leave her here. You can make sure she gets into bed and rests." Matthew leaned down and buzzed a gentle kiss on Lara's cheek, whispering in her ear. "I am anxious to know the rest of your confession, my love." "I...I would like to wake in your arms, Matthew," she whispered hurriedly, feeling her cheeks heat and hearing his quickly inhaled breath. "You minx," he said, narrowing his eyes at her as he battled his body's reaction to her softly spoken confession. "You shall find out soon enough, my love." Then he turned and, with a wink to Kathleen, left the women to go ready things for their outing.

87

WENDY STONE

Chapter Nine It was a much different looking Lara who glided down the long curved stairs a week later. The gowns that had been ordered that day finally arrived. A huge order for a seamstress who looked as if she were willing to throw herself at Matthew's feet when she tallied up the bill. That day had been long, but getting away from the castle had seemed to lift Lara's spirits. She was lighthearted, laughing at Matthew's jests, flirting with her husband-to-be with a joy that had him stumbling over his feet. He'd sat in a chair provided by the seamstress, going through dress patterns, agreeing to fabrics and trims and overriding Lara when she faltered at seeing how much he was spending on her and Kathleen. Afterward, he'd taken them to a small tea shop where their hostess seated them, tempting their palates with tiny cakes and small wedge sandwiches. They'd waited there, sipping their tea, while Matthew did some errands of his own. Giles was an ever present figure, glowering at any man who came close to the two women. That night, Lara waited with bated breath for the connecting door to open, falling asleep with her eyes still on that stubbornly closed door. She'd been disappointed when she awoke that he hadn't come to her in the night, but she decided that he'd probably been tired himself. He greeted her at the breakfast table, finishing his coffee while she ate, before pressing a quick kiss to her brow and leaving upon that huge brute of a horse. She'd watched him go from the window of the dining room, pressing her cheek against the cold glass. He hadn't been cruel, or curt in any way. He'd been polite and attentive but with none of the touches or kisses that he'd given to her just the day before. And it confused her. The first of the gowns, ones that Madame Bateaux had already begun for another account and were half done, arrived early that afternoon with the seamstress herself to do a final fitting and to confirm measurements that had already been taken. That night, for supper, Lara had floated down the staircase, gowned more appropriately. It was much richer than what

88

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

she'd been prepared for, a thick velvet gown done in a deep shade of blue. The gown had the high waistline of the season, a wide ribbon wrapped around her waist and tied in a big bow in the back. The tight little puff sleeves sat just off her shoulders, leaving a vast amount of her skin bare. Lara had her maid pull her hair up to fall in a mass of curls down her back, two tight curls tickling her collarbone over her right shoulder. The color made her hair look even more golden and darkened her amber eyes until they glowed almost gold. It made her pale skin gleam, and combined with the blush on her cheeks from the look in Matthew's eyes when they lit upon her, she knew she looked her best. Even the white bandages, now smaller due to the wounds healing, did nothing to detract from her beauty. Matthew had been attentive during the meal, making her and Kathleen laugh with his stories and jests, eliciting Giles' help to keep the two young ladies amused. He'd been charming and funny, focusing on her needs before his own. When they'd excused themselves to go to the parlor, she'd thought he'd forego his usual brandy and cigar and join them, but instead he'd apologized, claiming work that had to be done, and had retired to his library, Giles close upon his heels. Once more, Lara waited, finally getting up and pacing her room, the anticipation and anxiety that was running through her system making it impossible for her to sleep. She heard him go into his room and scurried to her bed, lying back and pretending to sleep, squeezing her eyes closed tightly. But after waiting like that for almost a half an hour, she knew he wasn't coming to her again. What had she done? She couldn't help but wonder. Was he already sorry for the deal he had made? Did he want her gone? Her night was sleepless, tossing and turning to finally sleep as the sun was peeping over the horizon. When she awoke, it was late morning and he was gone already. This had continued. If she woke in time to meet him for breakfast, he was congenial, seeing to her comfort, entertaining her. Then he would be gone, with a kiss on the forehead or on the cheek. She wouldn't see him again until supper and then immediately after he would lock himself in his library, or worse, in his office. And then she would go to bed, her ears alert for the sound of him. It was all very courteous on his part. Politeness seemed to be a thick wall around him that she couldn't seem to break through. He held himself

89

WENDY STONE

almost aloof, as if he were sorry for the things that he had done to her already, showing her how wonderful lovemaking could be. But she was done with waiting, she'd decided during her bath. If he wouldn't go to her, there was no reason she couldn't go to him. With that thought in mind, she'd dressed carefully tonight, determined to seduce Matthew into wanting her again. Her gown was white silk, the weave shot through with strands of gold and silver, making her sparkle as she moved. It was cut almost indecently low, with the very top of the pink flesh surrounding her nipples almost visible. The dress was tight, pushing her breasts together, creating a deep cleavage, her mother's gold locket lying in that dark valley. Her hair was up, tiny curls surrounding her face, two thick curls dangling next to her ear, the tips dipping low across her shoulder to skim her breasts. She'd pinched her cheeks to bring color to her face before going toward the parlor, knowing that Matthew had come down already and would be in front of the fire, a small glass of sherry or a cut glass tumbler full of something stronger in his hand while he waited for dinner. He was alone, his gaze caught in the snapping flames of the fire. She walked toward him almost silently, the slight clip of the short heels on her slippers muffled by the parlor rug. She was almost close enough to touch him when he noticed her, his eyes rising from her white slippers on her feet up the length of the white silk that clung to her curves, lighting on her breasts before finding her face. For an instant Lara thought she could see the fire in his eyes, the same fire she'd seen when his passions flared. Then it was as if a shutter fell over his gaze, his eyes becoming inscrutable. He sat his glass upon the fireplace mantle, turning to bend over her hand, his mouth barely touching her knuckles. "You look lovely, my dear," he said, his deep voice sounding rather rough to her ears. "Thank you, Matthew," she said, smoothing her hand down the side of her gown self-consciously. Matthew wanted to moan. She looked ethereal and lusty at the same time, her gown creating a frame of innocence mixed with the beauty of a siren, combining with Lara's own loveliness to make Matthew absolutely miserable. And the way she was looking at him, with hope and wonder and worry, was driving him to distraction. It was getting harder to stay in his room, to stay in his own bed at night. What he wanted was next door, just a turn of a doorknob away. But

90

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

he couldn't, he wouldn't go to her. He couldn't let the emotions that were churning in his gut, keeping him awake, making him stare at the same row of figures for an hour and still not know their sum, take over. He was attracted to her. That was all it was. Being attracted to your wife would be to his advantage for he did want sons…what man didn't? He sighed, pushing his hand through his hair, tearing out the ribbon that he'd used earlier to club it back. He realized he was staring and turned back to the fire to pick up his drink. "May I offer you an aperitif?" She shook her head, not wanting anything to distract her from her goal. "You look most handsome tonight, your grace," she said, her voice soft and a little breathless. She felt her flush grow on her cheeks as he stared at her, his eyes questioning. "Compliments? Hmm," he said, his eyes narrowing. "What have you done?" Lara laughed, her hand coming out to touch his arm. "You are so trusting, your grace. Have I given you cause to mistake a harmless compliment for wheedling for favor?" He shook his head slowly, raising his glass to his lips. "No," he said after swallowing the potent brew he'd poured for himself. "But most husbands would be concerned if their wives handed out compliments. I'm just getting into practice." Lara rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him as he stared down at her, a look of amusement upon his handsome face. "Your grace, if I do something that would rate parceling out useless compliments, I promise to warn you of it first. That way you may shield your male ego against any pandering I might try to do." "I appreciate your kindness, love. It is a pleasure to know you have my best interests at heart." "Always, your grace. I could no more think of bruising your ego than I could of riding that beast of a horse you ride out on every morning." She moved a little closer and put her hand on his arm, letting her bare fingers rest on the soft fabric of his black coat, feeling the muscles in his arms moving under the fabric. "Do you ride, Lara?" he asked, dragging his eyes away from her animated face. "No, your grace. My father had no use for women who rode horseback. He thought it a male sport and very unfeminine for women. I will admit to wishing to learn, though, especially watching the way you ride out of here every morning." She smiled up at him, leaning even closer

91

WENDY STONE

so that he could smell the scent of the perfume she'd put on before coming down. It was a gift from him and one that she treasured. "I'm sure we could find a well mannered filly in the stables that you could learn on, Lara. That is, if you'd like to..." "I'd love to ride with you, Matthew. That is, if you think I could learn quickly enough. I don't wish to hold you back from your morning rides." She blinked up at him innocently. Matthew threw back his head and laughed, figuring her game. "Manipulating again, Miss Lara?" "Whatever would give you that idea, Matthew?" she asked innocently, before giving up and laughing also. Her laughter was bubbly and infectious and he found himself drawn to her more, enjoying his time with her. "I have no idea, minx. Perhaps the fact that now I shall have to buy you a riding habit so that you may be dressed appropriately for our rides." Lara felt a burst of triumphant joy and didn't try to hide her smile. "I'm sure I could find something to wear, your grace, that won't cause you to open your purse again." Her eyes twinkled with happy light. "I promise to learn quickly, your grace." She stepped even closer, seeing the look in his eyes change, watching it grow darker as the tips of her breasts rubbed against his arm. "Lara," he growled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. She felt a thrill shoot through her as his head dipped, his lips moving closer to hers, his eyes almost glowing with heat. Her eyelids fluttered shut, her lips parted as she waited to feel his mouth moving over hers once more, anxious to know if she still would feel the same sweet throb of desire. But instead of his lips, she felt his hand drop from her cheek to pat her hand, removing hers gently from his arm. Her eyes opened when she felt him walk away from her, going to the small sideboard where a silver tray sat with an assortment of decanters. A frustrated growl rose to her own lips, but she refused to give in. He still wanted her. She could see it. He was resisting their attraction to each other for some reason she could not decipher. But she would. She wouldn't let him get away that easily. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him lift one of the decanters, pulling the crystal top off of it and filling his glass. Was it her imagination or did his hand actually shake? She swore she heard the clink and rattle of the glasses as the liquid poured into his tumbler.

92

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"I wonder what is taking the others so long. Mrs. Ethelridge will fuss if Cook's meal isn't served on time." He lifted the watch that dangled on its long golden fob from its pocket in his waistcoat, flipping it open to check the time. Lara used the piece as a reason to get closer to Matthew again, strolling over to lean against his arm, her hand coming out to cup his as she admired the timepiece. "It is beautiful, Matthew. Is it a family heirloom?" There, she thought, his hand did shake. His gaze had dropped to the low neckline of her gown, raking over the smoothness of her white breasts with a heated gaze. "Ah, yes." He shut the piece and slipped it back into his pocket, picking up his glass and moving so that the settee was between the two of them. "It was my father's, and was bequeathed to me in his will." He looked up when he heard voices, and watched as Giles and Kathleen came in, the latter dressed in a pale pink gown that clung to her body and made her skin glow with health and beauty. Her hair seemed like a halo, gilding her head and glowing in the light of the candles. Kathleen was smiling shyly at Giles, who was staring at her as if she were some kind of fragile flower that would fall apart if he dared touch her with his huge hands. "Lara!" her sister called, coming to take her hands and hold them out. "That gown is simply scandalous, but so beautiful on you, sister." Lara smiled, though she felt like crying. She'd been close, she knew she had, to having Matthew confess that he desired her, then talking him into coming to her. Now she would have to start over later. "Thank you, Kathleen. You look very pretty also." "Shall we?" Matthew asked, holding his arm out to Kathleen with what seemed like almost relief upon his face. She accepted his arm, leaving Giles to escort Lara, both looking at the other couple with confused eyes. Supper seemed to take hours, and Lara had no idea what she'd been served. She did more pushing food around her plate than actually eating, only nibbling a little as she stared at her fiancé, who was seated as far from her as he could get without seeming rude. He avoided her eyes, speaking to her only when she spoke to him, and he drank more than he ate. By the time the ladies retired to the parlor for sherry, Lara was furious. She stormed around the room, not sitting as Kathleen was. Walking to the huge window, she stared unseeing out into the darkness.

93

WENDY STONE

"Lara, I know this might be none of my business, but is there something amiss between you and Matthew?" Kathleen started as Lara turned suddenly, only to throw herself with very unladylike gracelessness onto one of the chairs in front of the fire. Reaching for the small glasses set on the table next to the chair, she poured herself a small measure of the sweet sherry, sipping the stuff and wrinkling her nose at the taste. "He acts as if I don't exist to him, Kathleen. I don't know what to do." "Have you spoken with him about this?" Lara finished the small amount left in her glass, grimacing at the strong taste of the stuff. She never touched spirits of any kind, after having seen on more than one occasion her father in foul condition due to excess drink. But tonight, if he could drink, then she could also. She reached for the decanter, pouring another small amount into the glass and sipping it, feeling it warm her insides, sending out a tingly feeling through her limbs, then another until the contents of the decanter stood at less than half of what it had been. "He won't speak to me," she said finally. "That's ridiculous, Lara. Everyone can see he is infatuated with you." Kathleen rose and removed the glass from Lara's hand, picking up the tray and setting it away from her before returning to kneel at her feet. With her head in her sister's lap, she sighed. Lara blinked fuzzily, her eyes sight blurry from the unaccustomed alcohol in her system. Her brain felt as if it were wrapped in cotton and buried away from everything and everyone. "I...I think I should retire, Kathleen. I feel a trifle strange," she said, her words slurring together. "Can you make it on your own? Should I help you?" Kathleen asked, only to have her concerns waved away impatiently. "No, I don't need a keeper, Kathleen. Enjoy your evening." Making her way to her bedchamber was an interesting event. She swore she was walking a straight line, but the walls and furniture seemed to be moving, sometimes jumping in front of her to trip her up or bang her on the hip. Her door seemed to be misplaced and she had to go down the hallway twice before finding it. She would have to tell Matthew that he must hire a handyman to fix these problems for it wouldn't do for a guest at the castle to become injured due to the strangeness of events. A soft giggle erupted from her as she started toward her bed, determined to find some comfort in the center of it. She yanked on the heavy coverlet, leaving the cavalcade of pillows still atop to hold the

94

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

stubborn thing down, making it refuse to move. Losing her balance, she also lost her grip on the blanket and with a little screech, found herself sitting down hard on the floor. "Damn!" she swore, before slapping a hand over her mouth and looking around to see if she'd shocked the curtains with the curse. Giggles erupted once more, and she struggled to get up, finally pulling off her short-heeled slippers and tossing the fragile footwear at her wardrobe. Getting her feet under her, she managed to rise unsteadily where she stood, weaving a little as if caught in a windstorm. **** Matthew was going slowly but surely mad. It was her fault, that little wench he was to marry. She was squirming her way into places she shouldn't be, popping into his mind at the most unwanted of times. Creating havoc with his sleep and his eating habits until he was ready to punch someone. Just as he'd been punched when he'd looked up from the fire, her scent had wrapped around him like the song of a siren, inevitable and inescapable. She'd stood there within his grasp, looking as delectable as the most sinful of desserts in that white shimmering gown, her eyes huge with amber fire and those damn pink nipples peeking out at him from the edge of her décolleté. His first and most immediate thought had been to drop his glass, grab her and throw her over his shoulder, and take her to bed, ripping that cursed gown from her sweet body and ravishing her. Then he grew angry, not at her, but at himself. He was an uncouth beast, wanting only to sate his cravings on her slender form. It was not done, the things he wanted to do to her and to make her do to him. It wasn't something a husband asked of his wife, particularly when she wasn't yet his wife. But he couldn't help it; these thoughts were in his head constantly, ever since that day in the tower when that foul wind had risen. He said an early goodnight to Giles, determined to be asleep before she came up to her room tonight. He didn't know if he could handle hearing her moving around in her rooms another night. The sounds of her making ready for bed were slowly driving him mad. His fingers were unknotting his cravat, yanking open the top buttons of his shirt. His coat was already discarded, when he heard a strange thumping sound from her room. His eyes narrowed at the closed door, listening intently as he waited for other noises. When there were none, he pulled his cravat free, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

95

WENDY STONE

He had three buttons free of their homes and was working on the fourth when two more thumps came from that direction. His fingers stilled on their task as he stared at the door. Was she having another dream? He had to go find out. He slowly opened the connecting door, ready to shut it quickly if necessary. Seeing his bride-to-be standing in the middle of her room, her body swaying, her feet moving as if she stood still, she'd fall on her nose. She was giggling into her muffling hand and staring off at the wall. "Lara," he said quietly, not wishing to startle her. "Are you okay? I thought I heard some strange sounds in here." Lara whirled to face him, her usually graceful feet failing her and tangling in each other and the gown. She windmilled her arms frantically, trying to retain her balance, but in her inebriated state the inevitable had to happen. And once more she found herself on her bottom on the floor. Matthew hurried over to her, prepared to face the worst as he rushed to her side. He wasn't prepared for what he saw as he rounded the side of the bed, and it stopped him cold. Lara sat on the floor, blinking owlishly up at him for a moment before she burst out laughing, her hand slapping down across her mouth to try and stifle her humor. "What the...Lara? Are you drunk?" he asked, smelling the sweet smell of the sherry she'd consumed. "You're not here," Lara said, which brought on another round of giggles. "You can't be, because then that would mean you are still interested in me. So, no," she said as if this made the best of sense. "You just aren't here." Matthew sighed, reaching down to lift the fragile girl in his arms, forcing her to stand on her feet in front of him. "I can assure you, Lara. I am here. And you're foxed. What the devil caused you to start drinking?" Lara blinked up at him, her eyes fuzzily seeing double, then triple of his handsome face. "Three Matthews," she giggled. "All the more fun for me," she said in a singsong like voice. "All right, Lara. You need to be in bed. And let us hope the headache that you wake with tomorrow was worth drinking your sorrows for tonight." He reached around her, feeling her snuggling against him with a satisfied sigh. "Since you aren't really here, can I tell you something?" she asked him, a tiny burp escaping her lips and making her giggle again. "Yes, you can. Now hold still, these buttons are bloody small."

96

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Lara reached up and turned his face so he was forced to look down at her and not over her shoulder at what he was doing. "I've been trying to seduce him, I mean you, I...I mean...damn," she said again, "you know what I mean." "Yes," he said quietly, his hands leaving her buttons to slip up to her shoulders. His heart was pounding in his chest and he swore he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. "My question is why?" "Why what?" Lara said, squinting to try to make him turn back into one person again. "Why you would wish to seduce me?" "Him, I want to seduce him, because you aren't real," she giggled. "It's obvious, isn't it?" Lara lifted her head more, his scent finally breaking through her befuddled senses. "Not to me it isn't," he said, his hand coming up of its own volition to pull at the pins that held her hair up. He watched as it slowly fell, taking the pins and putting them into his pocket. "I wish to have the man he was the second day I was here back in my life. I miss him," she said simply, smiling almost inanely up at him. "And you think by seducing him, I mean me, in your bed, you'll get that man back?" Lara nodded her head, a little too enthusiastically, for her hair flew, covering her face. She started to raise her hand to move it out but his was there first, slowly pushing it back and slipping it behind her tiny ears. She smiled up at him shyly. Matthew's mind was racing. Here was his sweet little bride-to-be all but begging him to take her to bed. But then again, she was also stumbling drunk off her sweet little bottom. What would she say in the morning? What was he thinking? He couldn't do this. He didn't want this. "Come, Lara. Let me call Mrs. Ethelridge and have her come help you to bed." He started to lead her to the bed but she pulled from his hands. "I don't need help, I can do it myself," she said, pouting like a little girl. Her hands reached over her shoulders trying to find the small pearllike fastenings that held the dress on. She tried to look over her shoulder to see if she could find them when she couldn't feel them. Matthew couldn't help the snort of laughter that erupted from him as he watched her start to walk in circles, her hands pulling at her new gown, her feet stumbling along, all in an attempt to undo some buttons. "Here,

97

WENDY STONE

Lara, hold still and I will help you," he said, trying to hold back the laughter. She did, yawning hugely while his fingers slid down her back, methodically unfastening her gown until it hung from her small shoulders. She shrugged and the material landed at her feet, leaving her clothed in nothing but a thin shift that ended at her ankles, and the corset that laced tightly in the back. Matthew bit back a curse as he stared at the picture she made, the shift so thin he could see the outlines of her nipples pressing wantonly against the bodice, the outline of the golden fleece at the top of her thighs, the slender line of her legs under it. With hands that now shook, he reached for the laces of the corset, pulling on them quickly so as to end his torment and slip her into bed. The corset came off in his hands and Lara moaned appreciatively, reaching up to rub at the flesh that had been compressed by that instrument of torture. He watched her, unable to move, his cock now throbbing in his breeches as she trailed her hands over the silky fabric of her shift, one sliding over that small triangle of hair at the juncture of her thighs. "Bed," he rasped, his voice harsh even to his own ears. "Come on, Lara." He dared not touch her, not even to push her toward that wide expanse of bed where he'd spent that one memorable night. It beckoned to him now, taunted him with memories of how it felt to be inside of her, how she felt under him, how her hands had felt touching his body. Lara smiled back at him, slipping the small straps of the shift off her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Naked, she stumbled toward the bed, leaving him standing where she'd dropped the shift, his gaze roaming over the soft pale curves of her body. He couldn't move as she fought with the heavy coverlet, finally getting it pulled back far enough that she could slip under it. Lying on her back, her eyes partially closed, she pulled the blanket up over her waist, staring at him. "Since you are a figment of my imagination, will you give me a kiss if I ask?" "I am a figment of your imagination?" "Yes, silly," she laughed. "If you were my Matthew, he'd never be able to resist a woman's body. I've heard all about his reputation. He's a rogue and a bounder who loves to make love. He just doesn't love to make love to me anymore," she said, her smile slipping from her face. "Lara, if I wanted you any more, I'd burst through my breeches," he said emphatically, staring down at the offending bulge. He looked up as he

98

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

heard a soft snore, sighing as he took in the sight of her now sleeping face. "It's for the best. We shall be married in two weeks and then I shall endeavor to get you pregnant before going back to my old life, Lara." But staring down at her, he couldn't remember what he'd loved about the life he'd lived before knowing her. He lifted her clothing from the floor, laying it across a chair, his hands smoothing over the still warm fabric of the shift. Lifting it to his nose, he could smell her scent in the silky weave, a mixture of roses and spice and the sweet scent of woman that was Lara's own heady aroma. His cock twitched even as sadness overwhelmed him. He placed the shift with the rest of her clothing and turned, leaving the room without another glance.

99

WENDY STONE

Chapter Ten Father was here! Kathleen turned from the beautiful spinet she was playing, her head full of the music to stare in horror at the man standing in the doorway of the small drawing room. His eyes were red, his hands shaking. He looked ill. He pushed past the doorway, turning to slowly close the placket doors behind him, turning the key in the lock. "What are you doing, Father?" Kathleen rose from the small bench she'd been using to sit upon while she played, her hands going to her breast. "You slut!" he almost shouted at her, turning so that she could see his face, the bright red blood that welled from his nose and dripped from the side of his mouth. "This is your fault. If you could have kept your thighs together, I wouldn't be in this predicament." "No, Father, it wasn't like that. H...he ripped my clothes off." She started backing away, watching him stalk her like a cat with his prey, a half smile visible beneath the blood. "He ripped your clothes off, did he?" he asked, his voice rising to becoming falsely high as he mocked her. "He hurt you?" "Y...yes," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks, nowhere left for her to back to because she was now pressed into the plasterwork next to the fireplace. "H...he touched me." Kathleen watched in horror as her father swooped closer to her, his hands reaching out for her gown, one of the new, beautiful gowns that Matthew had bought for her. He grasped both sides of the bodice, ripping down with ease. The beadwork that decorated the neckline spilled onto the floor. Her breasts were exposed, the thin shift ripping down to her corset, that thick sturdy material rescuing it from ripping further. "NO!" she screamed, feeling his hands upon her breasts, squeezing and pulling on her soft, puffy nipples. "Miss Kathleen!"

100

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Kathleen struggled and fought against the hands trying to touch her, kicking her feet. Her shoulders were grabbed and she was shaken gently. Her eyes opened, and she saw Giles' worried brown ones staring down at her as she lay in her bed. She stared frantically around the room, her eyes searching the corners, looking for him, for her father. "He's here," she squeaked, terrified beyond thought. "Who's here?" he asked gently, pulling her no longer resisting body against his. "My father," she cried, tears coming to her big blue eyes, her hands fisting in the material of his shirt. "He's here to get me, he wants to...to..." she broke off, unable to go further. "He's not here, little one. No one is here but you and me. It's okay." His hands stroked down her back, soothing her and arousing feelings that he shouldn't be feeling in him. "H...he could come for me any day, Giles," she said sniffling, taking the big handkerchief he held out for her. "He could force me to go with him." "Over my dead body is the only way he'd get you out of these walls, Miss Kathleen," Giles said. Kathleen saw him staring at her fiercely and felt her heart pound violently in her chest. His gaze dipped to the low neckline of her nightgown, the deep valley of her cleavage apparent in the candle that he'd brought with him when he heard her scream. She sat forward a little more, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, knowing he would be able to see more of her. "When will you stop calling me miss, Giles? We are friends, aren't we?" She looked up at him from under her tear-spiked lashes. Giles stared at her, his gaze roaming over her face. Then he looked down as if afraid he'd be unable to speak his mind. "We are friends, miss, but it isn't done that a member of my class and one of yours should be so familiar." "Giles, until a week ago there wasn't much different in our stations. M...my f...father," she said, stumbling over the words, "he gambled away every last shilling. Lara and I worked alongside our housekeeper to keep our home clean." She smiled, her lips parting. "If it weren't for his lordship, I wouldn't have a home or any of this, Giles." "It isn't a matter of circumstances, Miss Kathleen," he said, his voice deepening, for her hand on his arm was making slow circles over his skin

101

WENDY STONE

under the sleeve of his shirt. "It is a matter of birth. Your blood is blue, miss." "If I were to cut my finger, Giles, my blood would run as red as yours." "That is neither here nor there, miss, and you know it. The difference in stations is there, despite money or desire. It is just best that we remember it." "Desire?" she asked, her head tilting as she caught the word. "Do you d...desire me, Giles?" Giles tried to rise, shaking his head, his eyes closed. She stopped him, her hands coming out to grab fists full of material over his chest, dragging herself closer to him. He reached down, his hands coming to her arms, his fingers meeting around the slim limbs easily. Kathleen waited until he opened his eyes, knowing she had but one chance at changing his mind else he would shrug her off and make sure she was never allowed another. "Do you wish to kiss me, Giles? I...I want to know how your lips feel, I want to make them erase the feel of father's against my m...mouth. Will you kiss me, Giles? Will you m...make me forget how terrible...mmfff." Giles embraced her, his lips swooping down, closing with gentle firmness over hers, and stopping her words. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, allowing him easier access. Her mouth opened under his with a little whimper that he felt arrow straight to his groin. With a moan that was almost as much pain as it was pleasure, he parted her soft lips with his tongue, tasting for the first time the sweetness of her passion. She thought her heart would stop, or would swell so much as to burst with the excitement of what he was doing. His hands roamed at will over her lush body, pulling her closer to the hardness of his form until she was wrapped around him, her arms around his neck, on her knees in the bed to press against his much larger height. His tongue found hers, pressing and sliding against it until she began to kiss him back. His huge hands grasped the back of her gown, pulling on it until it lifted around her hips. Then his hands were on the bare skin of her bottom, his palms hot and rough against her satiny softness. He groaned into her mouth, his teeth nipping her bottom lip before laving it with his tongue to soothe the sting. Kathleen wiggled against him, feeling his hands cup and knead her bare bottom, his fingers parting her thighs to find access between. He held her thighs apart with one hand, his other gently exploring the soft, wet

102

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

flesh between. With one finger, he stroked over that sleek channel of heat, his finger bumping over the knotted bundle of her clit, causing her to jerk against him. He circled it, his finger growing wetter as the dew of her arousal coated it. She pulled away from his mouth, a soft keening cry of pleasure erupting from deep inside of her. He was making her feel so strange, so wonderfully hot and anxious and needy. With the simple stroke of his finger down there, in her woman's flesh, he was doing things to her body that she hadn't known were possible to feel. Her hips moved against his hand, grinding it against her body as the strange tightness began to grow between her thighs, building until if felt like a huge knot of pleasure and pain, all beginning where his hand played between her thighs. Then it burst, and she screamed, her mouth muffled in his shoulder as waves of delicious, mind-numbing pleasure exploded over her. Giles felt her pleasure in the hot moisture that flowed over his hand. Kathleen was arched against him, her thighs shaking against his hands, her breasts pressing into his chest. Her mouth was buried in his shoulder, her teeth leaving little marks as she unconsciously bit down with her joy. He closed his eyes, smelling the overpowering aroma of her arousal like an aphrodisiac. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath, his next heart beat. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He loved her. It was that thought that broke the spell surrounding him. He loved her and he couldn't have her. Those were the only two facts that mattered. Bending, he laid her down, her arms still around his neck, pulling his hand away from the delicious heat of her cunt. Her lips found his, and he let her kiss him, managing only with a huge effort to not lose himself again to her, to let his body free to take her as he so desperately wanted to do. When he finally pulled back, untangling her arms from around his neck, she smiled up at him, her eyes half dazed by the strength of the pleasure he'd shown her. "Will you make love to me now?" she whispered, her lips swollen from his. Her gaze ran down his long, thick body, staring pointedly at his groin, where the hard presence of his cock tented the fabric of his pants. "I think we've done enough, Miss Kathleen," he said, a strange note in his voice. "Miss?" she asked him, staring into his eyes and noting the almost detached look in them. He had pulled away from her, again. And this time, the hurt was almost overpowering.

103

WENDY STONE

"I lost my head, miss. It was unforgivable. It will not happen again." She heard the tone of his voice like a death knell, her body growing cold. "Giles, please," she began, but he rose from the bed, looking anywhere in the room but at her. "Do not worry, miss. No one will know of what has transpired here between the two of us. I shall ensure your good name remains intact." He bowed stiffly from the waist and turned his back on her, forcing his shoulders straight, though he wanted to bow like an old man. The pain he carried inside of him, the knowledge that Kathleen could never be his no matter how much he wanted her and loved her, was terrible. As was knowing that she would marry some lord or other who would strike her fancy. Someone good enough for her would come and sweep her off her feet. She would come apart in someone else's hands as she had in his. Someone else would take the precious gift of her virginity, would father her children and have her love. The grief inside him was terrible as was the heat of his arousal. It wracked his body with pain. He forced himself to walk to his room, which was just down the hall from Kathleen's, which was how he had been able to hear her screams as he'd been sitting up reading. With a groan, he pushed open the door, staring at the homey scene of the fire, his chair sitting closely in front of it, the book he'd been reading dropped on the floor. Instead of returning there, he went to the French doors that led outside, pushing them open and feeling the cold wind of the mid November night blow across his skin. He went to the heavy balustrade, staring unseeingly over the frosted white lawn that stretched for what seemed like forever from where his rooms were situated. He stared over the lawns, wishing the cold wind could freeze his thoughts and cool his heart as it was finally cooling his desire. **** Robert thrust his hard cock into the sweet young body of the girl under him, ignoring her pleas and her tears as he sought his own pleasure. What did he care that the new maid was just eighteen, fresh from the country and knowing nothing of the ways of men? All he knew was she was blonde and blue-eyed, though her hair was not as fine as the woman he wanted, nor her eyes the right shade. She'd been a virgin, he noted, as he looked down to where their bodies were joined, the slickness of her blood making his thrusts easier.

104

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

And she was tight, much tighter than his mistress, a woman who'd barely been worth the amount of her keep. Maybe he would set up this little slut in her own home, train her to be what he wanted. He reached down and grabbed her hair, pulling her face up. "Open your eyes," he ordered her hoarsely, enjoying the pain in their shattered blue depths. "I wouldn't have had to be so rough if you'd have done as you were told. Next time you will, huh?" When she didn't answer, he used his other hand on her tit, squeezing her nipple until it turned a fiery red color. "I asked you a question," he said as she tried to get away. "I'll quit squeezing when you tell me what I want to hear." "I will," she screamed, batting at his hands. "Please don't hurt me anymore." It was just what he'd wanted to hear, her begging and pleading sending him over the edge. He reached down, grabbing hold of her fleshy hips and pounding into her, watching as her whole body shook at the power of his thrusts. Her tits jiggled, her nipples moving. With one last thrust, he buried his cock as deep as he could, spurting his come inside of her warmth with a final grunt. When he pulled out, she rolled to her side on the small bed that was in her room in the servants' quarters. Her hands shook as tears spilled from her eyes, and she tried desperately to cover herself, feeling a throbbing pain between her thighs where he'd pushed into her. Robert used her maid's cap to wipe her blood and their mixed spending from his cock, throwing it at her when he was done. He arranged himself, buttoning his trousers carefully, then checked his appearance in the small mirror above her one dresser. Touching the ends of his cravat, he straightened it slightly before smoothing his hair back. "What's your name, girl?" he asked her, staring at the reflection of her shaking body in the mirror. "E-Elizabeth, sir," she whispered, terrified. "Elizabeth," he mused quietly. "A good English name. Do you know what happened to the last maid who worked here prior to you?" She shook her head, staring at him with wide blue eyes. "Elizabeth, my dear, an answer to a question is a polite response." He touched the side of his mouth with his finger before turning to look at her. "N...no, sir, I don't know," she managed to get out, even more terrified now that he had given her his full attention.

105

WENDY STONE

"She went running to my mother with tales of how I was brutalizing her every night. She acted as if she expected my sweet mother would believe such foul lies about her only child. It was a shameful act that she put on, Elizabeth, and one that I would truly hate for mother to have to witness again." He sat down on the side of the bed, his hand stroking over the smooth globe of her ass, seeing the red marks his fingers had placed upon her skin. "You do understand what I am getting at, do you not, Elizabeth? I can tell you are a smart girl, a very smart girl who knows just when to keep her mouth shut to earn a few extra shillings a week." Elizabeth watched with horror as he pulled a few coins from his purse before putting it back inside his coat, dropping the coins next to her head. He patted her on the bottom, his fingers dipping between her thighs for just an instant before he rose. With a nod and just the hint of a smile, he turned and left the room. She turned her head, seeing the coins, smelling their acrid metallic scent. She pushed herself from the bed, rushing over to where her small chamber pot was, making it just in time for her stomach to jerk, what little she'd managed to eat at supper coming back up in vile, acidy heaving. **** Robert, on the other hand, was whistling as he made his way from the third floor servants' quarters down to the library. Once his father's domain, it had become his upon his father's death. He settled himself in front of the fire after pouring a healthy snifter of brandy to enjoy on this cold evening. As he lifted the glass, he could smell the maid's scent on his hand and he smiled cruelly, for to him nothing was ever as arousing as their fear and their pain. He hadn't lied to Elizabeth about what had happened to the young maid who had held her position before. He just hadn't told her the whole story. Or what had finally happened to the young girl who was not welcomed back into her father's household, her belly swollen with Robert's child, a child that he would never recognize. He'd seen her one night on a cold street in London, the babe hanging in her arms, begging for any scrap that would be thrown to her. Two men had picked her up, for even thin and bedraggled she still was a pretty lass, taking her into the alley. As he'd passed, he'd heard her crying and the sound of a slap, and he'd smiled to himself, content in all that he was. He wasn't content on the matter of Kathleen, though. She'd been impossible of late, almost acting as if his presence bored her. Though how that could be, he didn't know. He was sought after by most of the hostesses

106

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

in London, wanted by the doting mommas of debutantes. He was an eligible bachelor, after all. And while not holding a title as esteemed as that of Duke, his estates were still valuable. And he was handsome and charming to top it all off. So why had she told Matthew's fierce housekeeper that she was ill the last time he'd come to pay a call? Why was she not responding to the notes he sent her? She was proving a wary prey. And that common bastard, that Reversham, was always around, always just under foot, his eyes always watching Kathleen, turning icy when they looked his way. Staring into the flames, he sipped at his brandy, enjoying the heady aroma and fiery taste of the brew. A thought came to mind and he smiled. An idea formed, a way to get her away from Reversham and into his own clutches. But he would need his mother's help, something he knew would be easy to accomplish, especially if he told her he'd met the woman he wished to marry. Finishing his brandy, he rose from the chair to head to his room, yawning hugely. He would be up early in the morning and setting the first part of his plan to action. **** It had taken Matthew forever to sleep, his nude body tossing and turning against the smooth mattress and silky sheets on his bed. He kept seeing Lara, the way she looked when she'd told him she meant to seduce him to get back in his good graces. And then he would roll again, trying to find a cold spot on the mattress, somewhere to press the heated length of his cock to cool off the desire that was never far from the surface when she thought of him He heard the huge clock in their shared sitting area strike the hour of three and that was the last he knew. **** Lara was running through the castle, throwing open doors and searching inside room after room, seeming without end. She didn't know what or who she was looking for, only that it was imperative that she find whatever it was. Tears streamed down her face and she felt this horrible sensation of impending disaster sink into her soul, grasping onto her with icy claws of doom that shook the very heart of her. There was a rumble, then the floor shook under her racing feet, causing her to stumble. Her eyes grew wide as she watched stones the size of her head flying down from the ceiling to bounce around her, so close

107

WENDY STONE

she could feel the breeze of their passing against her face. She screamed, crying out for Matthew, for she knew he would save her if he could. A voice hissed in her ears, evil and cursed, and she was suddenly once more in that tower room, standing staring at the locked wooden door, the howling wind at her back. She whirled in a circle seeking some way of escape and saw the ghost, her eyes glowing with red intensity, her body all but translucent in the dim light. She stood, her head back, her black hair writhing around her like snakes in the wind. With a smile that froze Lara's blood, she picked up the chair, throwing it at the window to watch it smash through, the glass seeming frozen in place as it cracked for just an instant and then it fell. The wind was sucked out that hole in the glass, pulling clothing and furniture with it. Lara reached for the doorknob, grasping it tightly with both hands. Her bandages caused her hands to slip and she screamed as she felt the wind grab her, pulling her toward that window and certain death. And then the ghost was at her ear, hissing and giggling, whispering evilly. "One is dead, this I know. Just as I saw and foretold. Another will die, a friend or a foe. You can stop this all if you but would GO!" She screamed the last word just as Lara felt her body being pulled through the empty window frame and then she was falling, screaming Matthew's name. There was a thump and Lara jolted awake, finding herself on the floor on the side of her bed. Her eyes searched the room, peeping over the edge of the huge bed to search the other side, the room lit only by the dim light of the fire. Terror took her, and she ran for the connecting door, never realizing she was nude. She opened it quietly, taking one last look around her room, certain that the witch or ghost or whatever she was would pop out at the last moment. Then she turned, running lightly over to Matthew's bed, seeing his big body sprawled out across the mattress, most of the covers at his feet, his body naked to her eyes.

108

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Eleven Lara's breath came in heavy pants of fear, her eyes were wide with terror. She glanced back at the connecting door as if expecting it to open, or for the witch ghost of her dreams to just pop through the thick oak portal. Matthew's name on her lips, she looked down at the bed, seeing him for the first time since she rushed into the room, his nude body splayed across the bed, the covers down around the foot of the bed and trailing onto the floor. Her hand came to her mouth, shock turning to desire like the flick of a match as she stared at his naked form. He was beautiful, long lean muscles covering every inch of him, hard even in his sleep. She remembered touching his back, caressing it when he drove her mad with passion, even cupping the smooth hard skin of his buttocks with her palms, a thought that sent a shiver of desire shooting through her. Her intent had been to wake Matthew, to huddle in his arms and rid herself of her fear. But now she wasn't sure she wanted him to wake, knowing that he'd send her back to her own lonely bed. She wanted to be with him, and no matter what he said, she knew he wanted her also. But, what she was thinking of doing was deceitful, wasn't it? Her body argued, nothing could be deceitful about wanting to be with your husband, and hadn't he said that they were all but married many times to get what he wanted for himself? She just wanted to be near him, what harm would there be to slip into that big bed with him, to spend the rest of the night close enough to him to not feel fear. And if he should wake and they should make love, well, that was no one's fault. Still thinking, Lara settled carefully on the side of the bed, watching his face as he slept. He looked so much younger as he dreamed, the cares and worries of his world no longer on his shoulders in slumber. His lashes were thick, brushing his dark cheeks and a stray lock of hair trailed across his eyes.

109

WENDY STONE

Lara leaned over, carefully pulling that lock of hair from his face. Perhaps it was the tickling of his hair, or perhaps he somehow sensed her presence, but his eyes opened to stare into Lara's. There was no surprise at finding her there, just the fiery gleam of lust. His hand shot up, grabbing her wrist and holding it as he turned over on the bed, his grip pulling her with him so that she landed across his chest. "I can only take so much, Lara, I'm just a man," he growled, feeling her naked breasts against his chest. "And you've pushed me to my limit." His big hand came down to the back of her neck, pulling her up to his mouth, which found hers with a surprising sweetness and gentleness compared to the urgency of his words. He explored her lips, holding her captive with one hand at her neck, the other softly stroking the line of her spine, tracing with his fingertips from the base of her neck to the rounded curve of her bottom and sending shivers through her body. His lips were warm, sweet and tantalizing, tempting her and coaxing when they didn't need to be. She wanted to be with him, she wanted this more than she wanted her next breath. But he held her back, taking his time, almost sleepily loving her with his hands and mouth. He seemed to kiss her forever—long, sweeping kisses that befuddled her mind, leaving her a pliant mass of nerves, his to do with as he wished. So slowly that she almost didn't realize it, Matthew rolled, putting her under him, his chest against her breasts. His body lay between her spread thighs, the length of his hard cock nestled in the damp channel between her puffy lips that were swollen and moist with the desire he inspired. His hands framed her face, cupping her cheeks in his palms, staring down at her with eyes that were full of heat and desire. "If I take you now," he said, his lips almost touching hers, "you'll be in my bed every night from now on. Do you understand that? It doesn't matter what anyone else says, you'll sleep in my arms every night." Lara stared up at him, her amber eyes dark with the drugging effects of the passion and desire that pulsated through her. "Y-yes, Matthew." His smile was almost predatory, though his lips were still gentle when they touched hers. "Good," he growled, deepening the kiss, his tongue plunging ruthlessly into her mouth to tangle with hers. With an almost nonchalant twist of his hips, he found her delicate opening with his cock, burying himself inside of her easily, feeling her give around his girth, holding him tightly inside of her. His groan matched hers, both lost in the kiss that flamed between them.

110

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Matthew thrust inside of her slowly, feeling every inch of the sweet heat of her cunt around his cock. His hands slid from her shoulders, going to her hips to tip them up further before slipping over her thighs and pulling her even closer. Hearing her whimper as he thrust into her depths, feeling the heat of her surrounding him was almost more than what he could take. He slid to his back, rolling her on top of him and watching the surprise in her eyes. "I thought I'd get an early start in teaching you how to ride," he growled, feeling her thighs spread around his hips. He helped her up, sliding his hands up her thighs, letting one long finger part those golden curls at their juncture and slide between her thickly swollen lips to circle the long hard nub of her clit with devastating effects. Her hands were on his chest, feeling the smooth muscle, the strength of him beneath her fingers. She held them there to support herself, nervous now with him buried so powerfully between her thighs. "I...I don't know what to do," she said, biting her bottom lip. The sight of her small white teeth worrying the plump morsel of her lip had Matthew narrowing his eyes up at her, a groan backed up in his throat. "You know what to do, love," he moaned, his hands going to the smooth curve of her hip. "Move, rise up using your thighs," he said, showing her. She caught on to his words, moving over him with deliberately teasing motions, enjoying watching him. His eyes were narrowed to mere slits, his lips parted with his breathing. His cheeks were flushed with passion, his body tight under hers. His hands were hard against her skin, his palms a solid presence, his fingers kneading her soft bottom as he allowed the teasing. Lara slid down his length, feeling him filling her so completely she thought she'd scream from the pleasure of it. Her movements became jerky as her body became overwhelmed with sensation, little whimpering cries of pleasure coming from lips parted to allow her gasping breaths. His hands became rougher, gripping her hips, his fingers leaving welts in her skin. He moved her, his body thrusting with powerful, spearing motions, his hands dragging her down against him until he felt her fingers dig into his chest, the muscles of her cunt gripping his cock in a strangle hold as pleasure burst through her. Sweet, hot juices ran from her body, flowing over his cock, pooling on his loins as she came, bathing him in her scent. Her body sagged in his grip, her head dropping between her shoulders, her eyes closing as she

111

WENDY STONE

struggled to catch her breath. He let her down, allowed her to lie against his chest, stroking her back as little spasms of delight surged through her. "You haven't..." she said when she finally regained her breath, looking down at him. "No," he said, flexing his hips and letting her feel his rock hard cock still firmly embedded inside of her. "But..." "I will, love, regain your strength for you will need it. I've been waiting to have you again for a week, putting up with your teasing and your tempting me until I thought I would break down that door like a madman." He groaned as he saw her smile, and the sly gleam that came into her eyes. "It won't be allowed again, love. You won't be out of this bed long enough to have the chance to tempt me beyond what I can stand." Lara was silent, lowering her head against his chest, hearing the rapid beat of his heart. Her hips moved with almost shy motions, the sweet friction sparking her loins. "You could have gone to one of your mistresses," she said quietly. Matthew's laughter was harsh. "You speak of my mistresses now when my cock is buried so snugly in you? Woman, you are incorrigible." He lifted her chin with his hand, holding it when she would turn her face away. "Incredible, minx, you are trying to manipulate an answer from me." Lara jerked away, rising onto her knees and acting as if she would pull away from him. He caught her around the waist, throwing her with gentle urgency to the bed on her stomach, his big body coming to lie on top of hers. "Where do you think you are going?" "Back to my bed," she said, struggling under him. He groaned, feeling the soft globes of her butt moving against his cock and he tipped his hips, allowing that hard shaft to find its home between her thighs. "You so quickly forget your promise now that you've had your wicked way with me, my little bride-to-be," he whispered into her ear, laughing. His chuckle turned to a moan as her hips moved, rubbing the wet swollen lips of her soft pussy against his cock, rubbing the round head against her clit. "Your bed is now my bed, my love. You have no where you can go where I will not find you." Lara felt as if he enveloped her, his scent was on the sheets and in the air around her. His big body forced her into the mattress, held there by his weight which he kept from suffocating her by rising on his elbows He was between her thighs, rubbing against her in ways that had her nerves stuttering, her body on fire for more of his sweet possession.

112

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"I am never to be allowed my privacy, your grace?" she managed to ask, though the only thing she really wanted to think about was what he was doing to her, the sensations of his body. "Not if I want you, love. Then, no matter where you are, I shall find you." The words were said in jest but Lara could hear the ring of truth in them. It sent a thrill of fear through her that mixed with another kind of thrill, but this one arrowed into her loins, causing her hips to tilt and the head of his cock to lodge inside of her. In his head, those pictures that had possessed him in the tower, pictures of Lara on her knees in front of him worshipping his cock with her mouth and hands, begging him to take her, using words that no lady would know much less utter. His body reacted to those pictures, his hips thrusting forward until he was as deep as her body allowed, butting up against the entrance to her womb with every stroke. With a groan, he reached above him, grabbing a pillow and lifting her with his arm, pressing the pillow under her hips. She was hot and tight around him, grinding back into him as she felt her own joy at his movements. His hands controlled her, even as her body cried out to his for more. "Oh, Matthew," she moaned, his big body torturing her with every sleek movement. His mouth was close to her ear, whispering words to her, hot sordid words of which she had no understanding. But his voice, husky growls of encouragement that shivered into her soul, telling her how she felt around him, how long he'd wanted to do this to her, to f...fuck her. Even her mind stumbled over that word. His hand slid under her hips, cupping her mound, his finger circling her clit. "Come for me, Lara," he whispered, hearing her whimpers, the desperate movements of her hips under his thrusts. He was close himself, those nights of denial of that which he'd wanted the most stealing into him. The dreams he had of her, of feeling her under him just like this hadn't even touched the surface of the passion and wonder he felt at the reality of the event. He felt her first contraction, the muscles fluttering around his shaft and felt himself swell as his seed boiled out of him, groaning as the first spurt flooded her. His head back, he jerked against her, his teeth gritted. Lara cried out under him, her fingers fisting in the sheets on the bed, his hips pounding against the softness of her bottom. She felt no pain, only pleasure, sublime, overwhelming pleasure, knowing that once more she was with him, that he wanted her as he'd wanted no others. When he

113

WENDY STONE

collapsed over her, his weight held off of her with one arm, his chest pressed into the softness of her back, his mouth moving over her shoulder, nipping once. Then he fell to his side, his arm sliding under her to take her with him. She cuddled next to his chest, her arm falling over to slide into the long hair at his nape, her head finding that place on his chest that seemed made for it alone. She sighed, still enjoying the tiny bursts of pleasure, feeling his ejaculate slipping wetly over her thigh. "I gave up my mistress that day we visited the seamstress. She's found another protector already," Matthew said, almost as if an afterthought. "So it will be up to you to fulfill my passions, my love. Do you think yourself up to the task?" he asked, looking into her smiling face and quirking his dark brow. "They are many and varied, love," he warned even as she rose to her knees, leaning over him to kiss him. "I shall do my best, your grace." She smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Although I fear that I am sorely untutored and shall perhaps need to be coached on how best to proceed during the course of the action. Shall I search for some worthy fellow for the job, your grace?" she asked, holding back a smile. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes questioning. "Only if you wish to find him dead and you locked back in the tower, wench," he growled, gathering her unresisting form into his arms. "I find myself very fond of the idea of keeping your beauty to myself, love, and as such, you shall find me a very jealous husband. So mind who you beam that sweet smile of yours on, or bat those lovely lashes at, Lara." Lara found herself smiling, cuddled against his hard form with no thoughts of leaving. She yawned, covering her mouth belatedly. "But for now, love," Matthew said, pushing her head down against his chest, "you need rest if you plan to begin your duties as my paramour." He felt her press her lips to his chest before settling even closer to him and felt content. **** Robert walked into his mother's sitting room about the same time as her breakfast was being delivered. He took the tray from his mother's maid, smiling that smile that he knew always made her skin crawl. But she dipped a quick curtsey in front of him and scurried from the room, no doubt determined to not return until the mistress rang for her. "Mama, dearest. How are you this beautiful morning?" Robert entered the room grandly, his charming voice being used to its full advantage.

114

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Robert, how delightful a surprise this is." Mirabelle Denton was a very young forty, Robert being her one and only offspring and arriving very early in her marriage. Her husband was taken from her not long after in a horrible coaching accident. She smiled at her handsome son, aware that she'd spoiled him terribly. Robert spread the tray across his mother's slim lap before plopping down on the side of the bed, snitching a small piece of bacon from her plate. His mother was still an attractive woman, and he'd heard the rumors of the many men that chased her when she deigned to make her presence known in court. It happened rarely as she was more at home here at their smaller country estate than at the huge manor house in London. She had her horses and her gardens, and her small dogs with their yipping and annoying ways here, and she enjoyed the serenity of the country. "So to what do I owe this wonderful surprise? Why aren't you out riding or chasing one of those charming girls next door?" Mirabelle lifted her tea cup, beaming at her son. "Actually, Mama, I need a boon, something only you can do." He looked up at her, using his eyes to charm and smiling lovingly. "And what would that be, Robert?" "You know that Matthew is getting married?" "Oh, yes. I was quite surprised when the banns were announced during the church service on Sunday. She is quite lovely, isn't she?" She sipped her tea, waiting for her son to ask his favor. "Quite lovely indeed, Mama. Second only to you," he said. "Rapscallion," she accused lovingly. "So, this boon has something to do with young Matthew?" Robert worked to control the sneer that wanted to steal across his features at her words. "Young" Matthew was only a few years his senior and not all that young. "I wish to throw the happy couple a betrothal ball. And no one I know could pull it all together in the short time we have left before their vows like you could, Mama. Please?" he wheedled, blinking up at her innocently. "Why, that is a wonderful idea, Robert. And perhaps we could invite his younger sisters and that pretty sister of his betrothed," she added, giving him a look of her own from the corner of her blue eyes. "Mama!" he exclaimed, his hand going to his chest in mock shock. "Are you perhaps trying your hand at matchmaking?" "Of course I am, Robert. Now, do your old mother a favor and find my maid and send her in." She pushed the tray off her lap and made to slip

115

WENDY STONE

out of the bed. "We have a lot of work to do if we are going to have a ball before their vows." Robert leaned forward and planted a kiss on her smooth cheek. "I knew I could count upon you, Mama," he said lovingly, before getting up and walking out of the room. He had to take a moment and calm himself, for that had gone exactly as he'd thought it. And when the rest of his plan fell as easily into place, then Miss Kathleen would find herself his, found in a terribly embarrassing position from which he would nobly offer to rescue her, offering his hand in marriage to save her good name. Then she would be his. Evil thoughts hardened his chin and smiled from his lips as he went in search of his mother's maid.

116

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Twelve Giles's gaze was shadowed. He sat quietly in his seat at the table, not even pretending to eat any of the food he'd been served, morosely staring out the window just beyond Kathleen's smooth, creamy shoulder. He wanted her. He couldn't have her. It was that difficult and that easy. She was way beyond him in class. Her breeding screamed at him. It was there in everything, from the way she cut her food to the way her head rested upon that long, slender neck. It made him long to scream, to run off into the night and never come back. But he owed Matthew. He owed the man too much to just take off on him, no matter what the dilemma. And now this ball was being held at the Denton estate for Matthew and his bride-to-be. A ball where Robert would play host and have his dastardly hands all over Kathleen, and there was nothing he could do about it. It made him want to howl in agony. For he knew, if Robert had his way, Kathleen would be his wife. "Do you plan to sit there like a lump the rest of the night, Giles?" Matthew asked, letting his hand rest upon his friend's shoulder. "You know she would accept you, and gladly, Giles, if you but said the word. Never have I seen a female more smitten. Well, perhaps except for my Lara," he said smiling down at his friend. "You need to let go of these antiquated values. With what I pay you, and living here in the castle, you have more than what the two of you will ever need." Giles stared around at the empty room, realizing he'd been so lost in his funk that the ladies had retired from the room without him seeing them go. His cheeks grew ruddy in his embarrassment as he stared up at Matthew. "It's neither money nor means, Matthew. You know it's not. It's what is right by society. She would be scorned as wife of a servant. She would be shunned in London, banned from the balls and teas and any other outing that you and Lara would be invited to. How could I stand watching the disillusionment grow in her eyes? How could I let her grow to hate me

117

WENDY STONE

because I allowed her to marry me?" He bent his big head, glad that the two women had left the room. Pushing away from the table, he clapped his hand on Matthew's shoulder, trying to summon a smile. "I think it best I retire, Matthew. Please give my regrets to the ladies?" Matthew shut his eyes, sighing at seeing his friend so unhappy. He turned to join the ladies in the parlor, an event that had been occurring since the night of Lara's nightmare, a little over a week ago. He found no reason to hide from her, but instead gloried in her spirit and personality, enjoying their little battles of wills and wits and watching as she seemed to grow more beautiful with every moment he was with her. She was gloriously free with him, unfettered in his bed, willing to play at his every whim and never balking when he "coached" her. She was his match and he loved her, he just hadn't told her yet. He watched as Lara's eyes lit up when he walked into the small parlor where they were having coffee. Kathleen was at the small spinet that sat by the fire, her fingers strumming with what seemed like restless energy over the keys. She seemed unable to settle upon a single piece to play. He saw Kathleen's gaze move to him as he walked into the room, the sparkle in them dimming when she saw he was alone. He couldn't blame her. Giles was behaving with pigheaded stubbornness when it came to his little sister-in-law to be. "Giles wished me to extend his regrets, ladies. He wasn't feeling himself and decided that bed might be the best place for him." Matthew reached down, unable to resist, and stroked Lara's smooth cheek with the back of his knuckles. "Perhaps he has the right idea," Kathleen said quietly, her hands sliding off the keyboard of the spinet. She rose and dropped a small curtsey in front of Matthew. "I find I am weary also, your grace. I think I shall retire to my own bed." She bent and kissed her sister's cheek and left the room, leaving Lara and Matthew alone. "I worry for her, Matthew," Lara said, pouring him a cup of the heavy dark coffee. He took it, taking a sip before setting it on the table, dropping down next to her on the small sofa she occupied. He lifted her easily, hearing her sigh of contentment as he placed her to his liking on his lap. "I know, my love. I've tried speaking to Giles but he is a stubborn fool. He worries that she will grow to hate him if society doors are closed to her because of who he is. What he doesn't seem to take in account, those same doors will open

118

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

to both of them for as sister to a Duchess, Kathleen will have power in her own right." "Perhaps I should advise her to seduce him," she said, letting her forehead rest against Matthew's and staring into his seductive green gaze. "It worked well for me." "I seem to remember seducing you first, my love, if you'll but remember our first time in the tower." He smiled, his hands lifting to skim over the curves of her breasts, wonderfully draped in midnight blue satin. He could feel her nipples through the slippery cloth and a question came to his eyes. "I couldn't wear a shift under this gown, Matthew," she said, flushing becomingly. "It was too readily seen and the one that came with the gown was ripped." "So you are wearing nothing under this lovely gown?" he asked. His cock stirred at the thought, nudging at the soft curves of her rounded bottom as he grew longer and harder. Lara traced her finger softly against his lips, slipping it deftly inside when his mouth opened for her. "Not a stitch," she agreed saucily, wiggling a little into his lap as thoughts of what he could do to her created a wonderful itch between her thighs. "You are doing your best to try to kill me, aren't you, love?" he asked, groaning a little as she pressed against his now stiff shaft. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you," he chuckled, reaching into her hair and pulling out the pins that had kept her carefully coiffed hair in place. Lara moved her head into his fingers, enjoying the massage of his hands as he searched out each pin, pocketing them. "Can I help it if I find my husband to be a most attractive man?" She shrugged her beautifully bare shoulders, the tops of her breasts jiggling fetchingly over the neckline of the dress. "He is a most handsome and intelligent fellow, and quite the most passionate of lovers," she said, dropping a kiss on his nose. "What do you want?" he asked suddenly, shifting her forward until her bottom rested upon his knee. "Too much?" she asked, smiling at him. "I worried about that last part being a trifle over the top." "Well, you have to admit the suspicion would be there, Lara. You would change gowns before wearing one with no shift unless you had motive," he said, trailing teasing fingers across the heavy tops of her breasts, snuggling them into the warmth of her cleavage. "So what do you

119

WENDY STONE

wish me to do, hmmm? I know it must be something spectacular for you to go to such measures. Is there someone you wish for me to kill?" "Matthew," she said in her most shocked voice, though the smile upon her face said he was right about her finagling. "For shame that you have such scathing thoughts of your future spouse, when in truth it is but a simple request. Where is the trust in our relationship?" He snorted, turning it into a cough as she momentarily glared at him. "I could have just wished to seduce my caring and wonderful fiancé with my impropriety," she amended softly. The hand that had been combing his long hair dropped innocently into his lap, the back of her knuckles rubbing against the hard bulge of his cock. "Yes, and I just found out that I am next in line to be the Pope of the Catholic Church. Now drop the act, love, and tell me what has you so cunningly trying to seduce me into your way of thinking." He took her hand, turning it so that her palm was against that hard bulge, squeezing her fingers around it until he moaned at the pressure. "I think you should talk to Giles again, Matthew. I hate to see my sister so unhappy when you and I are so wonderfully blissful." She ran her hand up and down his bulge, her other hand coming up to tug at the fastening of his breeches until she could reach inside and feel the heat of his soft skinned hardness in her palm. "We are blissful, are we not, Matthew?" Matthew moaned at the contact of her cool palm against the heat of his cock, feeling it wrap around his shaft and tug with such tempting pressure. "Oh yes, especially if you continue with what you are doing, Lara." She chuckled, hearing the desire in his tone as well as feeling it in the drops of clear fluid that appeared at the tip of his cock. With a gleam in her eyes, she slipped from his lap to her knees before him, tugging with her free hand at the top of his breeches until he helped her slip them down. Matthew had confessed to her the night before after making love to her most wonderfully, of the pictures he had seen in his mind while they were in the tower. He'd given her details when asked, of the specifics of the acts that she had performed upon him in these pictures, leaving her shaky and red with embarrassment though secretly, she'd been intrigued by his words. Now, kneeling before him, her hair streaming about her, his hard cock huge in her small, caressing hand, she couldn't help but remember his words telling her of these pictures. Shyly looking up at him from under her

120

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

lashes, she leaned forward, her lips parting slowly as she kissed the tip of his cock. His groan shocked her, coming from so deep inside of him. She stared down at the long, thick shaft that lay so heavily in her hand, smelling the scent of his arousal, a musky smell that she found rather appealing. Once more she kissed the plum shaped head, her tongue coming out tentatively, tasting the clear fluid that leaked from the tiny opening at its tip, before pulling back slightly as if weighing the flavor. Matthew watched her face, unable to take his eyes from her even as he struggled to keep his hands off of her head, wanting nothing more than to bury his cock in the heat of her mouth. That obliging piece of flesh jumped and twitched in her still stroking hand as he saw her lick her lips, her pink tongue coating those soft morsels with a slickness that he wanted to feel around his shaft. "Will you tell me if I hurt you, Matthew?" she asked shyly, looking into his hard face and seeing the desire in the piercing green of his gaze. "I hurt now, Lara," he growled, tugging on a lock of her golden tresses. "Will you not kiss it to make it feel better?" "Will it make it better?" she asked, her voice turning husky. She could feel her own moisture gather, the thought of the scandalous thing she was about to do creating a coil of desire in her own loins. "Oh, my God, yes," he hissed, his hand finally tangling in her hair and pulling her closer. He felt her lips, at first just barely kissing his shaft, her tongue licking shyly at the length of him. "In your mouth, Lara," he growled, groaning when she did as he instructed and he finally felt the hot, wet darkness around him, her soft lips stretching to take him in. He showed her the movement, his hand coming down to wrap around her own slender fingers. His other hand was in her hair, guiding her. "Use your tongue, Lara. Slide it over my cock, love." He hummed his enjoyment of her ministrations and groaned again when she suddenly started sucking upon him of her own volition, drawing him deeper until he felt the back of her throat against the tip of his cock. Lara felt his length slide heavily upon her tongue, the taste strange at first. She started moving her head, stroking that long length in and out of her mouth, her lips creating a strong suction, her cheeks hollowing out. The itch was growing between her own thighs and she reached down with her free hand, pulling on the satin gown until it rose above her knees, her hand coming to rest upon her inner thigh, moving slowly upward until reaching the vee between her legs.

121

WENDY STONE

It wasn't the first time she'd touched herself there in front of him. The first time had been a few nights past. Matthew had lain beside her on their bed, the covers on the floor, staring at her body still rosy from the passion that they had shared but moments before. His hand had been stroking the length of her body, a long line that ran from between her breasts to the sticky hair at her groin, wet with their spendings. He'd taken her hand, pulling it gently, placing it there, upon the curls of her mound. "Feel yourself," he'd whispered, parting her still swollen lips with tender fingers before pressing hers between. She had, amazing herself and him with what she'd done before his eyes, her fingers pressing inside of her vaginal channel, finding the hard nub of her clit and stroking it, fucking herself with her own fingers until she'd come in front of him, her body arching and her eyes on him. Now, she needed that release, for giving him pleasure with her mouth was doing amazingly naughty things to her own system. Her thighs quaked, her pussy lips were swollen and damp, the channel between hot and sleek as she dragged her fingers through it. She jerked when she touched her clit, moaning around the hot flesh that was buried in her mouth. Matthew heard that moan and looked down, startled to find her gown up to her waist, her small fingers quite busy between her slightly spread thighs. With a groan, he reached into the bodice of her gown, his hands scooping her breasts out of the tight neckline, baring them to his eyes and his fingers. He pinched her pretty pink nipples, twisting and tweaking them, every moan that came from her sending vibrations of pure lust through his cock. He felt his cock swell as the pleasure mounted and knew an instant of indecision. He wanted badly to come in her mouth, to feel his seed going down her throat as she swallowed him. But more so, he wanted for her to enjoy the act that she was performing, to enjoy it enough to want to do it more. "Lara," he growled, fighting the urge that was quickly growing almost irrepressible. "I'm going to come, will you take it in your mouth?" he asked hurriedly, his words almost slurring together in his panic to get them out. Lara was almost too far into her own pleasure to hear him, her hips bucking against her soft fingers as she sought her own bliss. Without realizing what he was asking, she nodded her head around him, her breathing growing to pants of need as she strained toward that almost reached peak.

122

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

The first spurt took her by surprise and she automatically swallowed the thick brew to keep from choking. Then he filled her mouth, a tiny bit dribbling from her lip as she sought to take it all. She swallowed quickly, barely tasting him. Feeling his hips jerking under her mouth, she kept sucking until finally he settled, pulling her head from his lap with his hand in her hair. His head was tilted against the back of the sofa, his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. His chest heaved and his heart raced. He stared down at her, languid in the aftermath of such sublime pleasure. Her face was tense, unfulfilled, her hand still moving at a furious rate between her spread thighs. "M-Matthew…" she moaned, her tone begging. He scooped her up, laying her with ease on the sofa before slipping to his knees where she had been. He took her damp fingers from her wet flesh, sucking on them for an instant before placing them upon the taut peak of her breast. Wetting his lips, he looked up at her, knowing she couldn't handle slow and gentle, she wanted to come. His tongue found her clit as he moved with almost predatory swiftness between her splayed thighs, teasing it with rapid flicks. His fingers moved, pushing inside of her, feeling delicate spongy walls stretch around his invading digits, clasping them tightly. And then he pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking upon it as she had upon his cock, nibbling and then biting gently at the knotted bundle of nerves. Her body heaved under him, her hands grasping his head and dragging him closer. Her cries turned louder, and her thighs tightened around his head. Then she was coming, bathing him in her sweet juices, his tongue lapping at the tasty treat with avid intensity until she was still once more against his lips. **** Kathleen's eyes grew wide as she saw her sister, her dress pulled up around her waist, her head bobbing in his lordship's lap. She could see hints of something hard in Lara's hand, and her curiosity pulled at her to move closer, to see what one actually looked like. She crept a little closer, hearing Matthew's moans and feeling a strange fluttering in her stomach. Her legs felt heavy and her stomach seemed full of butterflies, but they flew and played low, teasing a reaction that sent a strange wetness between her thighs. It was the same feeling she had when Giles had held her and kissed her so wonderfully, putting his hands on her woman's flesh and creating that roaring fire in her loins that he'd turned to such wonderful pleasure.

123

WENDY STONE

Was this another way of giving pleasure? She watched her sister's face, seeing the intensity with which she manipulated Matthew's male flesh, her face flaming as she saw the impressive member when it slid almost all the way out between Lara's lips, only to be sucked back in, her sister's mouth moving hungrily. Her gasp was loud but Matthew's voice covered it as he spoke hurriedly to her sister. Kathleen slid back toward the entry way, seeing Matthew's body tense, his eyes close and his mouth pull back in a grimace that spoke more of pain than of pleasure. She heard Lara's surprised grunt and saw her sister swallowing convulsively, a tiny dribble of white coming from between her stretched lips. Matthew's eyes opened, staring down at Lara. Kathleen quickly ducked behind the door, peeking around it, too interested in what was happening in the parlor to stop watching, even though she knew she should back out and give the couple their privacy. Such things weren't for young eyes, though she'd had her suspicions about where her sister had been spending her nights, for it certainly wasn't in her own room. Kathleen's fingers went to her lips, a tear came to her eyes as she watched Matthew staring down at her sister. There was so much emotion to be seen in that green gaze, love and commitment shining from his eyes. She watched as he pulled her sister up, as he lowered himself between her thighs, feeling a blaze of intense heat wash over her own groin as her sister's pink woman's flesh was exposed between his lordship's long fingers. She left, finally, breathless at hearing Lara's cries of pleasure, at seeing Matthew slipping up his sister's body to join with her. Her head was abuzz with what she'd been witness to. She went to her chamber, her reason for going back to the parlor forgotten. Sitting in front of the fire, she pulled the pins from her hair, her mind replaying all she had seen. Could she do that? Could she take a man's member into her mouth and bring him pleasure? Could she do that to Giles? Slipping out of the gown she'd worn to dinner, she picked up the soft dressing gown in pale blue that had been another of the gifts that Matthew had pressed upon her. Slipping her bare arms into the soft fabric, she gasped as it dragged across her erect nipples, forcing her to face the arousal she felt. She could still see them before her, their bodies highlighted by the light of the candles and the fire behind them. But as she saw the sight in her mind, the bodies changed until she was between a man's thighs and

124

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

that man was Giles. How would it feel to take him like that? Just the thought sent a thrill of pleasure through her. Maybe if she did that for him, maybe then he would acknowledge how he felt about her and ignore this antiquated idea of class. With a quiet sigh, she pulled the gown closed over her aroused body, belting it loosely around her tiny waist. Slipping her feet into soft slippers, she snuck out her door, hearing no noise in the castle. She crept down the hallway, making her way easily to the room she knew was his. Listening at the door, she heard no noise coming from inside. Was he asleep? Or was he awake and reading in front of his fire as he liked so much to do? There was only one way to find out. She reached for the doorknob, turning it quietly in her hands and pushing the heavy portal open. **** Robert walked away from Elizabeth's attic room, his mind not on the girl he'd left sobbing behind him. Instead they were upon his plans for the ball, his plot to get the beautiful Kathleen in his grasp. And then he would take her well guarded virginity, before the two of them were found preferably in a sordid situation that would call for him to step up and do the right thing by her. It was something that, of course, he was prepared to do, for he was a man of principle. A smirk found its way upon his handsome face as he stared down the hallway toward his own chamber. By this time tonight, he would be inside the delectable Kathleen, whether it was her wish or not. And then, he would marry the wench and bring her here. He knew he would tire of her. For that was his way, to use a woman until her charms wore thin on him, and then he would discard her here while he roamed the haunts of London, using the Duke's name to get his foot in the door of all those places that had shunned him before. He turned into his room, seeing his valet waiting patiently for him. With a languid air, he allowed his man to undress him, not noticing the slight sneer on the face of his valet. "Hurry up, Charles," Robert said harshly. "I wish to retire. Tomorrow is a big day." **** Outside Barclay Castle a strange dark cloud grew above the east tower. It spit lightning that twisted in bright flashes of light, sending bellows of thunder to echo across the sky. No rain fell from the cloud but a

125

WENDY STONE

stiff wind started to blow from the north, rattling the trees and causing the horses to stir in their stalls. A frightened whinny sent a nervous stable lad down a ladder and into a stall where he stood with his hands upon the horse's head, trying to soothe the beast even as his own heart beat fretfully. An owl, its feathers ruffled to protect it from the cold wind, hooted its lonely cry, sending another mournful sound to howl around the eaves. And in the east tower, a scream could be heard, a woman's voice rising with fearful intensity before evaporating into the night.

126

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Thirteen Lightning flashed, shining its brilliant blue-white light into Giles' room, highlighting for just one instant the man who slept fitfully upon the huge bed. It blinded the girl at the door who stood with one hand at her breast as if to control the frantic pounding of her heart, the other holding onto the door as if it were a lifeline she couldn't let go of. Kathleen waited until the strange light faded and the brilliance that had spots dancing before her eyes was no longer a problem. Then she let loose the door, closing it silently behind her. As quietly as she could, she made her way slowly to the bed, her eyes upon the man lying in it. The light from the fireplace was dim as the fire had died, barely banked for warmth. Kathleen liked the dark, it was protecting, sheltering her from the eyes of those she didn't want to see her. She jumped, standing dead still as Giles stirred in his sleep, his arm sweeping across the bed, pushing his covers down to expose his bare and very male chest with a mat of dark hair that swept just down to his belly. And in that instant, Kathleen almost changed her mind. He was so very masculine, so very strong and big and...and...male. But she'd come this far. She couldn't turn back now, not and have a chance of being with the man she loved. Taking a deep breath, she tugged gently on his covers, pulling them down his body until the rest of his chest was exposed and then all of his stomach, stopping when she could see the top of the curly mass of hair at his groin. Sitting carefully on the side of the bed, she let her eyes feast upon his form, enjoying every line and muscle of the taut flesh. With a hand that shook, she reach out to touch the hair on his chest, surprised at how soft it felt under her fingers. She stroked over it lightly, almost as if petting a cat, suddenly stopping when her fingers brushed against a hard little bump. Moving closer, Kathleen peered down, finding his flat male nipple and touching it once more, remembering how her sister's breast had been exposed to Matthew down in the parlor, wondering if it felt the same when he'd

127

WENDY STONE

touched hers as it did when Kathleen touched her own. She wondered how it would feel to Giles. Lightly, she stroked over it again, seeing the flesh rise, the hair around the nipple standing up a little more as if he'd had goose flesh. He muttered in his sleep and Kathleen held her breath, not ready for him to wake yet. She stood once more, her fingers going to the tie at her waist and pulling it open. Nervously, she glanced around before letting the dressing gown drop to the floor at her feet. The small amount of light that still flickered from the fire played over her pale skin, giving it a golden glow. It dappled shadows across her curved flesh, making her seem as some glorious wraith in the night, a spirit bent on exacting pleasurable revenge upon the male of the species. Stretching, she wondered what Giles would think if he opened his eyes right now, seeing her nude before him, a willing sacrifice to his pleasures. Would he reach out to her? No, he'd send her back to bed with a pat on the head and an admonishment to be a "good girl". "Well, to hell with that," she muttered, gathering courage in using a word that no decent young lady spoke. No decent young lady had to seduce the man she wanted to get him to marry her, either. But here she was, in his room, about to climb naked into bed with a very bare man. Taking a deep breath, she climbed carefully onto the bed, lying next to him, her head on the pillow next to his. They weren't touching but she could feel the heat of his body rising from him. She stared at his face for a moment, enchanted by the way he looked when he slept, so young looking, so gentle and approachable, nothing like the man who'd left her father on his face in his library that day so long ago. Moving closer, she wet her lips, letting them taste the skin at his shoulder. It was hot, a little salty and tasting of soap. It was a pleasant taste, and she kissed him again, letting her tongue swipe across his skin. Her hand went back to his chest, finding that small budded nipple and plying it between her fingers, twisting gently and flicking at it with her nail. Lifting her head, she stared at his chest, her heart in her throat as she bent her head and took the small button into her mouth. Her breath was rasping in her chest, her heart pounding as she allowed her hand to wander, feeling the curve of his ribs, the smooth flesh over his hard stomach, and the small concave dip of his belly button. She

128

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

stroked the back of her knuckles over the soft flesh under his belly, the wiry hair of his groin tangling in her fingers. And then she felt it. Hard and smooth, his maleness grew until it lay in her hand, pulsing with need. Kathleen closed her hand slowly, feeling his heat and the throbbing of the pulse in the shaft. Her eyes widened as she saw it, long and hard, wide enough that her small hand barely closed around it. She stroked the smooth flesh, remembering what she had witnessed Lara doing to Matthew and heard a small, sleepy moan come from Giles. She bent her head, her hair sweeping behind her and over Giles chest as another kind of caress. She held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she opened her mouth, taking just the tip of his hard cock between her lips. The taste of him was strange, musky and salty with a warmth she found appealing. She sucked gently, letting her tongue investigate the strangeness of his flesh so intimately connected to her, enjoying the way his hips jerked a little even in his sleep. Closing her eyes, she remembered what Lara had done and moved her mouth down as far as she could, taking as much of his thick hard cock into her until she gagged. He seemed to grow even harder and if possible, longer as she stroked him with her mouth and hand, being careful to not apply too much pressure. She didn't want him to wake yet. She wanted him to be beyond thought when he finally realized she was there and what she was doing. She wanted him wild with need for her, that same wildness that he had startled out of her the night he rescued her from her dreams. Humming softly, enjoying the heaviness of him against her tongue, she moved her head over him, her hands investigating his body. Giles woke slowly, the dream that held him too good to leave. Kathleen, he could smell her sweet scent, feel her heat next to him. She came to him in his dreams, holding him in her arms, professing her love and her need of him. She was nude in his dreams, the scent of her arousal heavy in the air. His eyes opened slowly. A thrill of pleasure took him by surprise, a flush of heat that surrounded his cock, slowly moving over his shaft. He picked his head up off the pillow, staring down his long body at the blonde head that was poised over his loins. "Kathleen?" Kathleen heard his voice and the dark moan that followed it. She knew he would kick her out or leave her here while he found somewhere else to stay unless she did something quick. Pulling her mouth from his

129

WENDY STONE

cock, she quickly threw her leg across his hips, taking his cock in her hand and holding it as she tried to stuff it inside of her. Giles cringed when her nail poked his sensitive flesh, his hands reaching out to stop her. "Kathleen, what are you doing?" "I...I want you to make love to me, Giles. Then you won't leave me." Huge tears streamed down her cheeks. "I love you, Giles. And...and I know you love me, too, but you have some misplaced idea that I will grow to hate you if I don't have everything that my sister will have." Giles managed to pull her off of him without permanently damaging any chances he had of having children in the future. She was shivering from being cold or from emotions, he didn't know. Her shoulders shook as sobs erupted from deep inside of her. He did the only thing he could think to do, he pulled her close, pulling the heavy coverlet over the both of them and stroked her hair gently. "Shh, please, Kathleen. Please, love, don't cry," he begged quietly. "I can't bear to see you cry." "B...but you're leaving me," she sniffed, staring up at him with tear drenched eyes. "H...how can I not cry? I love you." Giles felt the tears that fell to his shoulder like weights on his heart. "Kathleen, you have to understand, what kind of life would you have with me? I can't give you silks and satins. I can't give you a castle to live in." He sighed, "I can't even give you a manor house like the one you were living in." "I don't care," the words came out as a wail. "I love you. Those are things, Giles. I don't need things, I just need you." Giles closed his eyes as hope flared in his chest, making his arms close a little tighter around her bare form. His hands roamed slowly over her back, pulling her ever closer, her body like a small flame next to him. "I couldn't bear to see the hate in your eyes. I'm not anything like you, Kathleen," he reached down and found her hand, lifting it to thread her fingers through his. "If it weren't for Matthew, I would be living on the streets as I was before." "If I wanted someone like that, Giles, I would have accepted Robert's suit." She looked into his eyes, using her other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I don't want sophistication or fancy parties, Giles. I want to be with the man I love." She took a hasty breath, amazed that she could be so brave. But it was a matter of speaking her piece or losing the man who held her heart.

130

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Kathleen watched as he closed his eyes, indecision and pain easily seen upon his face. She leaned forward, slowly brushing her lips over his, feeling his mouth tremble a little under hers before he picked up his head to lean into the kiss. Kathleen felt a spurt of triumph, riding the wave of that feeling and pushed her tongue between his lips to taste the darkness of his passion. Giles groaned at her aggressiveness. His mouth opened wider to allow her to have her way, and he responded to her kiss with an abandon that should have shocked the virginal young miss. Instead, she moaned his name, her hand coming up to cup his cheek and slide into his hair, holding him still so that she could enjoy his mouth. He pulled his mouth from hers, breathing heavily. "Kathleen, you've got to stop that. I don't know where you learned that from but," he sighed heavily, "God, you're going to kill me." "I'm so frightened right now, Giles," she said quietly. "I'm afraid if I let you say anything you're going to tell me to go back to my room, to leave you alone. I'm scared that you'll leave and go somewhere that I won't be able to find you and then I'll want to die." "Oh, God, Kathleen," he shook his head slowly. "I'm not the right man for you. I'm too old, I'm too set in my ways. I've never thought to marry." "Do you love me?" she asked suddenly, her eyes rising to look into his. "That isn't the issue here, Kathleen." She rose on her elbow, staring down at him, her finger lightly tracing his lip. "What could be a bigger issue than that, Giles? It's a simple question, yes or no. Do you love me?" Indecision tore through him. With a sigh, he threaded his fingers through her thick blonde hair, pulling her down so that he could reach her lips. With his mouth against hers, he barely breathed the word. "Yes." Kathleen felt her pulse jump, her heart leapt into her throat. Joy screamed through her, making her want to jump up and down in her excitement. Instead, she pressed her lips onto his, her mouth opening to put all the feelings of joy and love into the kiss she gave him. When they parted, both were breathing heavily, their eyes hazy with desire. Giles ruddy face was flushed, his eyes hard. "I love you, Kathleen," he said for the very first time to her, watching the smile that bloomed on her face. "I love you more than my own life. But before you say anything," he said, putting his fingers gently against her lips. "You need to know

131

WENDY STONE

about my past. I won't let you be with me without knowing what you're getting yourself into." He rolled until she was on her back and he was on his elbow looking down at her. The coverlet shifted, slipping below her breasts and he couldn't resist pressing light kisses upon their taut tips, hearing her gasp at the sensations he caused. His hand brushed against the soft pale mounds, his fingers trailing over her nipples and watching as she arched her back, her body begging him for more. Giles forced himself to cover her, rolling onto his back to lend a little space between them. When she started to move toward him, he put up his hand, holding her back. "Giles?" she asked, feeling the space between them like a cold breeze. "Just let me speak, let me tell you this without touching me, please, Kathleen," he said, his eyes shifting to look into hers. She nodded, settling back on her side, her head cuddled into one of his pillows, her eyes on his. "I won't touch you until you are done," she told him, her tone brooking no argument. A snort of laughter erupted from his lips but he quickly sobered. "My mother was a prostitute," he started, hearing her gasp. "I don't know my father, never did. He was just one of my mother's 'guests', as she liked to call them, who left her with a little more than her usual fee." He turned his head on the pillow, forcing himself to watch her face as he said what he had to say. "I'm a bastard, Kathleen. Reversham was a name I made for myself when Matthew found me. It was a new start, he said. I thought I should have a new name to go with my fresh start." "Is that all?" "No, but isn't that enough?" His eyes hard, he turned on his side until he seemed to be looming over her. "I'm a bastard, Kathleen. The man you love is illegitimate. I come from a whore and her customer. I lived on the streets, stealing to find enough food to eat when my momma would kick me out because she was entertaining. I ran the docks, looking for drunken sailors to roll for their pay. And when I was fifteen," he closed his eyes, his mouth snapping shut as if the memory of that time were too much to bear. "When you were fifteen..." she coaxed, quietly. His gentle brown eyes were full of pain and self-loathing. His face was contorted, horrified from whatever was going through his mind. She saw him swallow, his expression hardening before he spoke. "When I was fifteen, I killed my first man."

132

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"What had he done to you?" Kathleen asked him, full of pain for the man she loved that he'd had to go through all of this, that he'd been forced to feel such agony of spirit. Giles smiled at her question. Loyalty, unquestioning and total, that's what that question was. "He tried to rape me. But he'd picked the wrong boy. I was already pretty tall for my age and when he knocked me down and started to pull at my clothes, I found a weapon in the alley and hit him with it. He went down and never got up." "I'm glad," she said, a single tear forming in the corner of one eye. "I'm glad you killed him. He probably hurt a lot of people and now he can't hurt anyone anymore." She reached out, touching his chest with a hand that trembled. "Don't you understand, Kathleen? I killed a man. I shouldn't be free. I should be in jail or hung. And he wasn't the only one. God, Kathleen, there's blood on my hands, so much blood. I can't smear that on you by letting you love me." He started to roll away from her, determined to jump from the other side of the bed and leave the room. Kathleen made it to her knees, grabbing his shoulders as he sat at the side of the bed. Her arms wrapped around him, her breasts pressing into his back. "Giles, you had to do those things. You didn't have a choice. I don't blame you for it. And I love you despite how you feel about yourself." She held tight even when his hands came up to cover hers, afraid he would push her away. "It's impossible..." he started to say, stopping when Kathleen pressed a kiss to his shoulder, her hands moving across his chest, tangling in the mat of hair that crinkled teasingly under her fingers. "Ahh, Kathleen, God, you feel so good." His head fell back, resting against her for a moment, enjoying her hands on his body. "You could have me here every night, Giles," she whispered, tempting him with the idea. "I could be yours. I don't have to be your wife if that's what you want. I could just be..." Giles turned, startling her into silence. "Don't ever say that!" he growled, his eyes hard. "You are much to fine a person to ever put yourself in a position like that." "But...I..." "No," he said emphatically. "I won't even discuss that, Kathleen. You are to do that for no man, understand me?"

133

WENDY STONE

She nodded her head, staring down at his chest. All she wanted was the right to love him, to show him and everyone else her feelings and to have him love her back. What was so wrong with that? "Kathleen," he began slowly, lifting her chin with his fingertips even as he enjoyed how her naked form fit against his. "You should go back to your room and forget this nonsense about loving me. You will find a man younger than I, someone of your own station in life and fall for him, giving him this gift that you wanted to give to me tonight." "If I can't have you, Giles, I won't have anyone else. I'll go to my deathbed a spinster. I love you, to give to anyone else that which is yours would be almost blasphemy." "You're still very young. Someone will come along and then you'll thank me for being strong now," he said harshly, his body stiffening against her. "You should go back to your room, Kathleen, before someone sees you here." "Will you kiss me first?" "I can't," he said hurriedly, staring at her as if she had two heads. "If you kiss me, kiss me like you love me, then I will leave." She put up her chin, stubbornness in her eyes. "Kathleen..." "It will take you little time and then I will be out of your life. Isn't that what you want? For me to be gone so that you may live your life in the misery you chose?" "Fine," he said. "One kiss, and then you go to your room and we don't discuss this anymore." Kathleen stared at him, wary. She wouldn't agree to that. She wasn't going to give up on him even if she had to come back here and try seducing him again. Giles bent his head, his mouth coming slowly closer to hers. He didn't know how he was going to manage one kiss. Having her in this room, in his bed, naked as the day she was born was driving him mad with wanting her. The sensation of her breasts pressing in his back would be with him forever. As would hearing her sweet voice saying those words he'd longed so to hear since he'd met her. Kathleen poured herself into the kiss, practicing everything he'd taught her and adding a little of her own imagination. She tempted, she tantalized, and she strove to drive him to lust with one kiss. Her body moved against his, little whimpers came from her throat. She scooted around until she was on his lap, her breasts pressing against that intriguing

134

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

mat of dark hair, feeling it teasing her nipples until they were taut and aching. His hands were on her slender waist and he fought to keep them there, not trusting himself to move them anywhere else. The soft roundness of her bottom was pressed intimately against his hard shaft, rubbing against that traitorous flesh until the need to be inside of her seemed to be all he could think about. Giles tried to pull away, he tried to push her away, but his hands wouldn't cooperate. They slid up her slender body until he felt the soft weight of her breasts filling his palms. Her nipples were hard little points that burned into his palms as he slowly twisted his hands hearing her moan of pleasure through the roaring of passion in his head. He tore his lips from hers and for one terrifying instant, Kathleen thought he was going to push her away. Instead, his eyes peered down, staring at the perfect roundness of her breasts, seeing the pale skin peeping from between his dark fingers. He lifted her, his hands going back to her waist, pulling her up until his mouth could reach her tempting nipples. Kathleen felt the hot, wet, suction of his lips around her sensitive nipple, the shock of it sending streams of desire to pool in her loins. His tongue flicked against her pebbled bud, his teeth nibbled upon the treat, tugging upon it without mercy. She hung in his hands as he held her weight easily, her head back, breathing heavily for with every tug upon her nipple it was as if another tugging pull was being worked deep in her womb. Giles turned, laying her gently back on the bed, his mouth making a dark foray of her ample charms, spreading heated kisses over every inch of her flesh until he found himself between her thighs, staring down at the pale curls that covered her mound with worshipping eyes. Pushing her thighs apart with the palms of his hands, he placed a first chaste kiss at the beginning of her slit, the hair of her pussy tickling his nose. His finger slipped down, stroking the soft outer lips with a light touch, watching as they parted for him, showing him a glimpse of the pink flesh between. He swallowed heavily, feeling his lust for her like a heavy hand, squeezing his loins and taking his sanity. Glancing up at her, he saw her watching him, her heart in her eyes, her lips parted. "God help me, Kathleen. I can't fight you anymore. I'll make you mine in name as well as body and then, damn the consequences." His hand tightened against her thigh, his words becoming harsh. "But if you grow

135

WENDY STONE

tired of me, if you grow to hate me for what I am, remember this, I will never let you go. Can you live with that?" **** Matthew wrapped his arm a little tighter around Lara's slim waist, his head bent to hear her words as he pushed the door of their chamber open. Tonight was their last night together, for his family had sent word that they would be arriving for the nuptials in the morning, eager to great their new family member. A fact which meant they would have no privacy, nor would their continued flouting of convention be advisable, for his mother could ferret out impropriety like a blood hound. He sighed, hoping that he could make it a week without her in his bed every night, her body cuddled up against his in sleep. "I'm going to miss you, love," he said for about the fourth time since he'd been given the news of their impending guests. "Oh, Matthew," she sighed, staring up at him, her eyes full of mischief. "Never fear, I am sure you will come up with some dastardly way to take your evil pleasures with my innocent body." He growled, his hand smacking down against her gown covered rump. "Dastardly way? Is that what you think of me?" Lara giggled and scooted away from him, laughing as he kicked the door closed and headed her way. She darted behind one of the sofas that dominated the sitting area of his chamber, holding on to the back of it as she watched him warily. When he dove for her, she shrieked and ducked around the other side, running toward the big bed that had become their oasis of pleasure in the night. Matthew reached out, catching her around the waist just as she reached the bed, pulling her back and into his big body as his head ducked to nuzzle her neck. "Ahh, my beauty. I have you at last. What shall you give me to save your life?" Lara giggled, wiggling against him and hearing his moan. Even though they'd made love quite thoroughly down in the parlor, her husbandto-be could always be counted on to be ready for more quickly. He seemed insatiable when it came to her. "Oh, please," she cried, playing her part as helpless maiden. "Please, be kind, good sir, I have naught but my humble body and these rags that cloth it." "Rags?" he growled into her ear, nipping hard at her earlobe.

136

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Lara glanced down at the expensive gown she wore, the blue satin rumpled and creased from their earlier play. "Well, I had to call it something so that you wouldn't want to steal it from me, my Pirate Captain. I have naught on under it but my skin." She giggled when he groaned, pulling her hips in to feel his cock hardening against the soft flesh of her back side. "Tease," he whispered into her ear, his hands coming up to fill themselves with the generous weight of her breasts. "I should have you drawn and quartered, hung from the yardarm, keelhauled, and force you to walk the plank." "Goodness," she giggled, rubbing her bottom against his hardness. "All of that? Isn't that a bit of overkill, darling?" "Fine," he said, rolling his eyes and making her laugh again. "I guess I'll just have to have my wicked way with you then and in the morning make you swab the decks." He pushed her away from him, aiming her so that she fell across the bed, her bottom raised. "Matthew!" she screeched, startled at the suddenness of his move. "What are you doing?" "For a captured wench," he said, his hand coming down to rest against her lower back, "you certainly ask a lot of questions." He grabbed the hem of her gown, pulling it up even as she struggled to get up. Lara felt a seam rip as Matthew pulled on the skirt of her gown, lifting it until she could feel the cool air of the room against her bottom. She felt her face flush for she'd never felt as exposed as she did at this moment, held down by his hand on her back, her thighs slightly spread. Matthew stared at the smooth, rounded skin of her bottom, seeing the slightly reddened flesh of her cunt peeking from between her thighs. She was still wet from their earlier lovemaking, and he could see a hint of his spending trailing down her thigh. Using the same hand that he'd pulled up her gown with, he slowly spread open her plump lower lips, sinking one finger into her tight flesh. "Oh," Lara breathed, feeling a rush of heat that flooded her core. Her hips wiggled under his hand, her body opening to his touch, feeling the pleasure that he so easily brought her. Suddenly she felt the flat of his hand coming down hard across her bare flesh, a hot welt rising quickly in its wake. She struggled then, her body twisting, trying to get away from his hand that held her down. "Matthew, what are you doing? That was painful."

137

WENDY STONE

The laughter that came to her ears was strange, cold and harsh, nothing like the rich warmth of Matthew's voice. She turned her head, staring in fear at the visage that seemed to be plastered over Matthew's face. Harsh and cruel, his face seemed twisted with anger, staring down at her bare bottom at the welt he'd caused with satisfaction. As she watched, he raised his hand again, bringing it down upon her flesh with a cruel whistling sound. Lara cried out with the pain of it and the insidious darkness that she could feel coming off of Matthew like waves. Something was wrong. This wasn't the loving man she'd come up here with. A coldness seized her, a thrill of terror so horrifying that she felt her stomach turn over. Her body was lifted, turned over on the bed, the welts on her bottom throbbing against the soft coverlet. Matthew stood before her, his eyes hard, his hands rough as he reached out and tore the gown from her body, the neckline digging into her skin before finally tearing loose. "Matthew, no!" she cried, tears starting to fall down her cheeks.

138

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Fourteen "Matthew, no!" Her cries fell on deaf ears as Matthew continued to rend her gown, tearing the fragile material into shreds and scratching her delicate skin in the process. Lara fought him as best as she could, her hands pushing at his arms, finally reaching out and slapping him with all the strength she could muster. "Stop this!" she screamed, feeling the pain of her blow vibrating up her arm. Matthew stopped. He took a step back, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before, taking in the damage he had done, the welts and scratches he could see on her pale skin. His face changed from the horrifying mask that had seemed to cover it when he'd gone mad on her. Now it fell, seeming to crumble as the shock of what he'd put her through sank into his brain. He held his hand out to her, seeing her flinch away in fear. Then he sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, God, Lara. I'm sorry. It wasn't me," he said, rocking back and forth on his knees. Lara watched him, her eyes narrowing until she saw his broad shoulders shaking. It was all it took to break the spell of her distrust and she dropped to her knees next to him, her hand reaching out to touch his bowed head. "It wasn't you, Matthew, I know it wasn't you." His head lifted and she could see the pain in his red rimmed eyes as he stared at her outstretched hand as if afraid to touch it. "I hurt you," he groaned. "I'm so sorry, Lara. It was as if my insides were frozen. I couldn't stop." "I know," she muttered, finally touching his cheek with her hand. It seemed to break a dam in him and he fell forward, burying his face in her lap, his arms around her waist. "I've felt it before, too, remember." She stroked his back and his hair, soothing both of them with her touch. "You'd never hurt me if you could help it, Matthew. I know that." She bent forward, kissing his head with shaking lips.

139

WENDY STONE

"I couldn't hurt you," he said, his voice muffled. "I love you." Lara's hand stilled, her body froze as she heard his words. She watched with uncertain eyes as he lifted from her lap, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek. "I love you, Lara. I didn 't mean to, nor is it something I wanted to happen. It just did. I'd rather tear off my own arm than to hurt you." "You love me?" she whispered. He nodded, smiling at the shakiness in her voice. He knew exactly how she felt. He wasn't exactly rock steady himself. "I love you and you love me," he said. She stared at him for a minute and then a smile appeared upon her face, blossoming quickly into a radiant grin. "Yes," she said, nodding as if she'd just thought of it herself just this moment. "I love you, too." Matthew pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, his hands skimming over the softness of her skin. His heart felt as if it would burst with happiness Lara snuggled in next to him, the pain from the scratches and bruises disappearing. She turned her face up to his, wanting and inviting his kiss. His head moved toward hers, the warmth in his green eyes making her smile. She closed her eyes, her lips parting. And felt her body propelled out of his arms to land on the floor. Opening her eyes, Lara watched in disbelief as Matthew was brought to his feet, his hands coming up to fight with something around his throat. His mouth opened but no words came out, just strangled sounding grunts. "Matthew!" she screamed, trying to rise to go to him. She was knocked backwards again, landing hard against the side of the bed. When she turned to face him again, she screamed again, this time in horror. Holding Matthew by the throat was the ghost, her pale face twisted in a mask of hatred, her red eyes blazing as she stared at Lara. "You should have gone; I warned you what would happen. And now he," she spat the word, turning to give Matthew a look of loathing, "will pay." "No!" Lara screamed again, forcing herself to rise against the suddenly cold wind that rose to press her back. "Don't hurt him. It is my fault. You just said it was. I should be the one punished not him." Matthew was shaking his head, desperately trying to speak though his face was turning red as the pressure on his throat increased. The ghost's hair whipped around him, leaving welts of red on his skin, biting through the heavy fabric of his coat and ripping into the linen shirt he wore under it

140

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

like the most terrible of whips. Pain slashed at him, but it was nothing compared to the burning of his lungs that screamed out to him for air. "You are a woman," the ghost shrieked at Lara. "Women are vulnerable to a man's acts. You are not to be blamed for the atrocities that this one would have performed upon you. He must die so that you may live free." "You can't kill him," Lara almost wept, fighting the cold wind that threatened to suck the air from her lungs and struggling to speak. She could see Matthew's movements were getting weaker, his eyes bulging. "How can you kill your own flesh and blood?!" she screamed, falling to the floor in despair. *** * "Can you live with that?" Kathleen stared down the length of her body, her cheeks flushing red as she realized how open she was to him. His eyes were upon her face, his expression grim as he waited for her answer. "A...all I want in this world is you, Giles. It is all I could ever want." Her hand reached down, touching his cheek, wanting to heal the wary fear she could see in his eyes. "I wouldn't want to live if you weren't with me," she murmured. He lifted himself over her, finding her mouth, his lips demanding. Kathleen put everything she could into that kiss, desperately needing him to know the truth of her heart. Her hands grasped his big shoulders, holding on as if he were the only thing in her world that was stable. And in truth, he was, for the world seemed to whirl around them, flames of passion flared and burned hot and true, their fuel the love that fused them together. Love was in every touch of his hand as it caressed her sweetly innocent body. It was in his lips as he kissed and nibbled down the length of her form, stopping to taste of the seductive spicy flavor of her skin, the taut texture of her nipples, the salty sweet tang of her stomach until once more he lay between her legs, his fingers gentle against her delicate woman's flesh. She was pink and moist, the tiny knot of her clit barely peeping from its hood. Her lips were swollen, damp with want and desire, that most sought after opening seeming almost too fragile to breach. Tenderly, with one gentle finger, he traced those smooth lips, feeling her jerk at the sensations he aroused. Slipping the finger in between those lips, he played through the wetness of her intimate juices, lubricating his finger in them before pushing against that wonderfully tight aperture.

141

WENDY STONE

Kathleen felt his fingers touching her and looked down between her breasts, seeing Giles face, his eyes intent upon the prize he'd uncovered, strained with the bindings he'd put on his own needful desires. She twitched as his finger tickled her intimately, and then tightened when she felt him push his finger inside of her. It stretched her, making her moan at the sublime sensations he was causing. She could feel his heated breath against the inside of her thighs, burning against the lips of her woman's flesh. And then his head dipped, his mouth moving over her wetness, his tongue delving in to her intimately. Wondrous shivers of bliss shuddered through her, her moans and whimpers filling the air of the room. Her hands fisted in the sheets beneath her and her hips moved, her body taking over and demanding the pleasure he'd given to her once before. With his tongue plying wet circles upon the extending flesh of her clit, Giles gently stretched her tiny opening with his finger, slipping first one and then two inside of her, groaning as the heat of her sheath clamped down around them, the slick liquid of her desire coating them. Her hips moved under him, her moans turning into pleas for the ecstasy he'd once given to her, begging to be released from the erotic torture he was performing upon her. Her cries grew louder as her body tightened, seeming to draw in upon itself. Passions coiled higher, need grew until she thought she would die without his touch, his lips. Her heart was racing, beating hard under her breast, its pulse strangely tripping along her nerve endings to that knot between her thighs that Giles held captive. Kathleen could feel that peak approaching, the one that had seemed so unattainable just seconds before. It shot toward her, causing her body to arch with pleasure, her womb to throb and contract as ecstasy exploded within her. Giles felt the peak in the fluttering of her muscles around his fingers. His eyes were on her face as he used his teeth to stimulate her further, his body stretched tight as a board against his own desire. She was like pure fire under him, her body undulating seductively, her cries sending scorching flames through his system. His cock was pressed against the cool sheets, throbbing with its own unquenched passion, his body begging him to end the desire that was turning to pain, to plunge inside the welcoming sheath of her body and ride her until he too felt the pleasure she was experiencing.

142

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Before she could even think of anything but the pleasure he was causing her, he moved over her once more, spreading her thighs further with his knees, using his hand to guide the hardness of his cock into that tiny portal of delight. She was so tight around the tip of his cock; he didn't know how she would take him inside of her. Her hands came up to his back, holding him close. "Kathleen, love, this is going to hurt," he growled into her ear. "I'll try to be gentle," he groaned. His hands grasped her hips, holding her wiggling body still. And then he thrust into her, feeling the thin barrier that had protected her virginal womb split under the pressure of his cock. She screamed, muffling the sound in his shoulder, the unexpected sharpness of the pain worse than the actual pain itself. Then she could feel his fullness within her, his cock deep inside, her muscles contracting around him in tiny spasm as she tried to adjust to his size. "Are you okay, love?" he asked gently, not moving, his hand coming up to brush her hair from her face, to trace the line of her brows and then over her lips before gently kissing them. Kathleen nodded, unable to speak. The pain was fading, barely a memory now, but what she felt within her, that wonderful fullness was creating sparks of fire, reigniting the flames of passion she'd thought extinguished. She moved her hips under him, experimentally, hearing his groan at the splendid friction it caused. "God, love," he said hoarsely, a desperate need welling within him to move inside of her, to thrust and thrust until they were mindless with pleasure. "I've wanted you for so long." Trying to be gentle, he pulled back until just the head of his cock was still inside of her. Groaning, he thrust back into her, feeling the velvety warmth of her cunt welcoming him. His head turned, his lips found hers, kissing her with the frenzied feelings he was experiencing, needing her to feel it, too. At first, his movements sent little sparks of pain through Kathleen, pain that mixed with the new feelings he was stroking from her, feelings of being impaled upon his length, of being his and his only. Feelings of love mixed with lust that sent her heart soaring and her senses reeling. Her hands grasped at his back, her nails scoring tiny trails on his skin. When his lips found hers, she put every emotion she was feeling into kissing him. Love, desire, passion, they all combined to send her body up in flames. Giles felt her tight sheath contracting around him; his body throbbed in response, his sperm boiling wanting to coat her insides with the proof of his joy. He slid his hand down her stomach, his big fingers slipping

143

WENDY STONE

between her thighs to find her clit, torturing it with tiny circles before flicking it gently. Kathleen gasped as shards of tension shot into her stomach, that same tension she's felt earlier. Her body moved under his now, undulating with a siren's dance, sweat gleaming on her body in the dim light of the fire. She felt him take her hand, felt him move it with his down her body. He pressed it between her thighs, her fingers touching his cock as it thrust with determined strokes inside of her. "Touch yourself, Kathleen. I want to see you come for me." It was a strange sensation, her hand tangled intimately with him, his fingers showing her what to do. She felt the strange button like shape, her body jerking when her fingers slipped over it, tightening her muscles around his cock as it seesawed into her. "That's it, love," he groaned, feeling her clamp down, holding him so tightly inside of her that every nerve ending was being stimulated intensely. "Play with yourself for me," he said, sitting back some and pulling her hips onto his thighs so that her head and back were on the bed, her hips in his hands. "Let me watch." Kathleen opened her eyes, staring down at herself, impaled upon his huge body, her sex stretched tightly around his well formed cock. Her fingers played upon her clit, stroking it as he'd taught her, learning on her own what felt good and what didn't. She saw his brown eyes staring down at that place where their bodies were joined so intimately. It sent a thrill through her, one that had her hurtling toward the ecstatic peak she'd been longing for. "Oh, Giles," she moaned, her body forcing away any embarrassment she might feel at being so intimately exposed. "Don't stop," she begged him as he thrust into her harder. "Don't ever stop." He felt the first tingle in the base of his cock and knew he was close. Hurrying his thrusts, he watched her hand, watched his cock moving, the shaft glistening with her juices, stretching her thin lips around him. He felt the contractions of her tight cunt, felt her hips moving with desperation, saw the concentrated look of lust upon her face and prayed he could hold on until she would feel the ultimate pleasure. It was close, her cries and moans pulling at him until suddenly she arched her back and he felt the contractions of her climax, and then he let himself go. Three pounding, heaving thrusts and he erupted inside of her, hot come spewing from the tip of his swollen cock to bath her insides with the pearly fluid. His big body jerked and shuddered over her, sending wave

144

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

after wave of pleasure through her as well until finally he was spent. He lowered his body down on hers, resting his head next to her ear, his heavy breathing blowing tiny locks of her hair around. "You're mine, now," he said, possessiveness ringing in his tone. "No matter what, you belong to me." Kathleen nodded, breathlessly agreeing with what he said and silently adding her own thoughts. "And you belong to me," she thought, a shiver of pleasure trembling through her. Giles lifted his head, staring down at her with a tenderness that touched her heart. He was still joined to her, his big body feeling so very intimate as it pressed her down into the bed. His mouth opened and he took a deep breath to speak. What he was about to say was lost as a loud scream echoed through the corridor outside. Giles was up and off the bed in an instant, reaching for his dressing gown. He looked at Kathleen, who was tying the front sash on her gown as he reached for the loaded pistol that he kept in a drawer in his room close to his bed. "You stay here," he said, pointing back at the bed. "No, I know that voice. That was Lara!" she cried, hurrying toward the door to his room. "Which is all the more reason for you to stay here," he shouted after her. Grabbing her arm, he swung her back around just as she reached for the doorknob. "You stay here and I'll be back to let you know what happened when I can." "I'm not going to stay here like some delicate little miss when my sister could be hurt," she argued, struggling away from his restraining hand. "I'm going too, Giles!" "I can't do my job and protect you, too, Kathleen. Damn it, quit being so God all mighty stubborn and stay here." He pointed toward the bed, turning her that way. "No." She turned back around, seeing the frustration in his eyes, matching it with the determination in her own. "I'm going." "Ah, bugger me!" he cursed loudly, running his free hand through his hair. "I don't have time to argue with you about this." "And since you have no time to argue, why don't you just admit defeat and let's go see what's going on?" She turned a small smile up at him. "I'm going to win this one, Giles. You might as well accept it and deal with it now." She reached for the door handle once more only to feel his hand on her arm.

145

WENDY STONE

"I could tie you to the bed and leave you here to fret until I get back," he threatened before sighing heavily. "But you're right; I don't have time for the arguing or for the tying. You stay behind me, no matter what," he ordered, waggling his finger in her face and giving her a look that would terrify grown men into doing what he said. "We'll see," she said, reaching for the door handle once more, this time managing to open it before he grabbed her again. "Promise me, or you aren't getting out of this room," he argued, aware of every second ticking away, his hands hard on her slender arms. Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him, her quick mind working. Another scream echoed in the corridor outside the room, and she sighed, defeated by the love she felt for her sister. "I promise, now, let's go." Giles grabbed her arm, holding her back when she wanted to hurry. He checked out the corridor and looked over the wide balustrade that overlooked the long stairway. Hurrying carefully, he made his way down toward Matthew's bedroom. The floor was freezing against his feet, as if someone had left open windows in this area of the castle. He looked up, seeing the condensation of his breath hanging in the air. He felt Kathleen shiver behind him, moving closer to him as if seeking his warmth. Reaching out, he put his hand on the doorknob of Matthew's chamber, pulling it back quickly. His hand throbbed with pain, the knob so cold it felt like touching ice. "What the..." he hissed. He lifted his hand to the light, amazed to see red spots on his fingers as if they'd been frozen to the door. "What is going on here, Giles?" Kathleen whispered worriedly behind him, staring at his hand. "I don't know." He pulled down the sleeve of his dressing gown so that it covered his fingers, turning to her before he reached for the knob again. "Are you still set upon coming with me?" he asked, hoping she was scared enough now to change her mind and scurry back to his room to wait for him. Kathleen swallowed her fear. "Y...yes, I'm going," she said bravely, straightening her spine despite all the shudders of cold that were going through her. He sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as if resigning himself to the fate of having a stubborn woman in his life, and then he reached once more for the doorknob. He could hear Lara's voice inside,

146

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

hear her sobbing as she screamed. It worried him but more so because he couldn't hear Matthew's voice at all. For a moment, he wondered if the door would open or if it would be locked against him. The door was heavy enough; it gave him pause to wonder if he'd be able to break through it. But the knob turned easily in his hand, the door pushing open with just a slight shove. He peeked inside, seeing a strange, glowing kind of fog that covered the surface of the floor. A blue-white light suffused the interior of the room, shining brightly out into the corridor. Giles stepped through the door and into the light, feeling Kathleen's body behind him, her hands on the back of his dressing gown. What Giles saw shocked him. Lara was on her feet struggling against some kind of invisible pressure that was holding her trapped, her hand raised toward Matthew. Her gown was a shredded, tattered mess hanging around her, exposing her nakedness. More shocking was Matthew, hanging a few inches above the floor, his hands pulling at something that was around his throat. His face was red, slowly changing to purple as air was denied him. Behind him, Kathleen gasped in shock, her hands leaving his gown. She started toward Lara only to watch as Lara collapsed to the ground, her voice rising to scream above the noise of wind in the room. "How can you kill your own flesh and blood?!"

147

WENDY STONE

Chapter Fifteen Matthew's body hit the wall, sagging as he fell to the floor. His hand went to his throat as he breathed in huge gulps of desperately needed air, almost choking as he tried to fill his starved lungs. The ghostly form turned and stared down at him, her red eyes no longer filled with fury. Instead, they looked almost curious. "Why do you say this?" the spirit asked Lara. Lara rose to her feet, wanting to go to Matthew. Kathleen grabbed her arm, helping her stand even as she shook her head. The ghost stood as if a sentinel between the lovers, keeping them separate through the translucent veil of her body. "I say it because it is true," she said furiously, her hands fisted at her side in her rage. "He is your grandson many times removed. He is flesh of your flesh and you've tried to kill him." The ghost turned and Matthew stared up at her from his position on the floor. Her head cocked to the side. She seemed to just be staring at him, as if comparing his looks to her own or to the memories she still retained of her own children. "What is your name?" she asked him finally, coming closer to where he was lying on the floor. "M...Matthew Trent," he managed to rasp out through the swollen column of his throat. "My son's name is Matthew." The ghost turned and looked back at Lara, staring at the shreds of fabric that were all that was left of her blue satin gown before looking up into her face. "How did you know this?" "I saw your face in my mirror. Matthew looks like you. There is a portrait of your son hanging in one of the larger drawing rooms. It wasn't difficult to figure the rest of it out." Lara held onto Kathleen, her knuckles almost white. "Please," she begged, "please, don't hurt him any more." "Why do you care what I do to him?" The ghost's hair was whipping around her white clad semi transparent body as if caught in a huge wind, flitting around her face. Her voice was raspy and harsh. She was a

148

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

terrifying specter, the stuff nightmares were based upon, but all Lara could think about was getting to Matthew. "I love him," she said simply, tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice rising on a sob. "Please," she said again. "How can you love a brutal man such as this? He locked you away in my tower, left you for me to find. He all but raped you the next day when he came for you. And you still profess love for a villain such as him?" Lara took a step forward, disregarding the hand that reached out to stop her. "That was a terrible misunderstanding, and one brought upon by hard words and fear." She reached out her hand in supplication. "He is to be my husband," she whispered, her heart breaking for she could see no softening in the attitude of the ghost. "I love him." Giles groaned, the sound coming to her from across the room. She saw him fighting to move, to speak but it was as if he were frozen. His gaze went to Kathleen as she went after her sister, and Lara could see the panic in his eyes. The spirit's head turned also, her eyes taking in the man she held motionless. Her eyes burned brightly, the red as intense as a tactile flame of hatred. Giles groaned again, this time the sound was one of intense pain. "No," he managed to whisper, staring at the ghost with defiant eyes. "I have but to wish it, man," she spat at him, though no words left her mouth, "for you to die a death filled with such agony as you could ever know. I could have you dancing a jig naked as the day you were born on the white hot coals of the fire with just one thought." "I'd fight you to my dying breath," he whispered, his eyes flicking around the room as if searching for a weapon while desperately willing his body to move. "You'd lose," these words were spoken aloud and Giles eyes flashed to where Kathleen stood, staring at him, an echo of red flame in her eyes. The ghost had disappeared, leaving Lara to run to Matthew and throw herself down next to him, her hands going out to hold him to her. She paid no mind to Kathleen, but Giles did, for over her, like a cloak, he could see the translucent image of the ghost. "Leave her alone!" he groaned, putting all his strength into his internal battle to fight whatever force that was holding him motionless. "He might be of my flesh," the Kathleen/ghost said, nodding her head back toward the slumped Matthew, "but you aren't. You are nothing but a servant who thinks himself better than his peers. You waltz through my home, sleep in one of the family chambers, eat at my table. You take this

149

WENDY STONE

woman to your bed as if you had the right to her. You claim to love her and yet, you don't even know the name of your father." Giles felt the bitterness of her words like a sword's thrust to his soul. Kathleen, her voice changed little despite the other's presence inside her body, spoke words he'd waited to hear from her, breaking the spell of hope that had deluded him when she'd come to his room this night. "You're right," he said quietly, his head bowed, pain lancing through him as his heart was torn asunder. "She is much too good for me." His eyes lifted and he stared at the visage of the woman that he loved with his entire being. "You've won, witch. I will leave here without her. But you must leave here also. Go and leave these people alone. You've done what you wished to do. You've proved your point admirably." Kathleen laughed, her lovely voice tearing into him and causing the misery that was consuming him to increase twofold. "Yes, I am right. I promise, no more harm to my grandson or to his bride, for she will carry my next grandchild." She laughed again, her hair tossed back in beautiful pale strands that shimmered in the light that surrounded her. Her eyes were brilliant blue, her skin flushed and perfect, almost too exquisite for him to look upon. "Then leave her, bitch. Go from here and return to your blasted tower." Giles growled the words, and as he did, he felt the coldness that had gripped him suddenly depart, his body able to move once more. The light around Kathleen dimmed, the visage of the witch, growing and growing until it disappeared. The room stayed cold, though the fire in the fireplace seemed to roar with added strength. Kathleen, her body weak, laid a hand to her forehead, the room spinning around her. She opened her eyes wide, seeing Giles staring at her, his face hard and unreadable. She reached out for him as the room seemed to grow dark around her. She heard him shout her name, felt his hands reach out for her and then knew no more. Giles lifted her in his arms, carrying her limp form to the settee before the fire. Lying her down carefully, he pulled a throw from off the back and wrapped it around her, laying two fingers to the pulse beating in her throat. With a sigh, he realized she'd just fainted. He stroked one gentle hand down her cheek, his eyes devouring her fragile beauty, drowning in her sweet scent, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her cheek. "I'll always love you. Be happy," he whispered. Then he rose, going to Lara who held Matthew's head in her lap. He grabbed the spread from the bed and carefully wrapped it around her

150

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

shoulders, shielding her nakedness from his eyes before reaching for Matthew to help him to his feet. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice pained. Matthew grunted, his hands on his throat. When he dropped them, Giles could see the deep bruises starting from the witch ghost's amazingly strong grip. Matthew took one step and gasped, his hand coming up to hold onto his side. Giles picked Matthew up, amazing Lara with his strength, taking his friend to the bed and laying him on it. "I'll get Mrs. Ethelridge. She can check his wounds and make sure that Kathleen and you are all right," he said quietly to Lara before turning and leaving the room. Lara sat next to Matthew on the bed, her eyes full of the worry she felt. "Oh, Matthew, I thought she was going to kill you." "You...stopped...her," he managed to drag from his raw and throbbing throat, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Giles?" he got out before she quickly hushed him. "Don't talk, darling. It will make it worse." "B-but..." "No," Lara insisted. "I know what you are worried about. I'll talk to Giles, darling." Mrs. Ethelridge bustled into the room, her eyes wide with disbelief until she saw her lord's throat. "Oh, good Lord in heaven," she breathed, staring at the deep bruises that swelled his throat. "It is true than? The Lady of the Tower is back and causing her mischief again?" "Mischief?" Lara choked out. "Is that what this looks like?" She felt the hysteria rising inside of her now that the danger was past. "I believe she did very much more than mischief, Mrs. Ethelridge." Matthew reached out and took her hand in his, holding on to it and staring into Lara's eyes. He squeezed her hand. "It...is...all...right," he whispered. Lara closed her eyes and took a deep breath letting it out slowly. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Ethelridge," she said finally, tears welling in her amber eyes. "I'm not accustomed to dealing with murdering ghosts. I over reacted," she said to the abashed housekeeper. "Giles?" Kathleen sat up on the settee, pushing the throw that Giles had wrapped her in onto the cushion and looking around the room. "What happened? Where is Giles?" she asked, her blue eyes wide with confusion. Lara went to her and took Kathleen in her arms, holding her closely. "I'm sure he'll be back soon, Lynnie," she said, using the pet name she'd

151

WENDY STONE

given her sister in their youth. "He's probably just making sure everything is all right in the castle." "But what happened here?" she asked, pushing back in her sister's arms. "We heard you scream and I made him take me with him. Then...then I woke up on the sofa." "You remember none of what happened?" Lara asked, amazed. Though she was glad for what had just happened was indelibly imprinted upon her brain, she was happy her sister wouldn't have to remember the words she had said to Giles nor the terrible look that had been upon the poor man's face as the vile bitter words had fallen upon his ears. Kathleen shook her head, then noted the condition of Lara's gown as the blanket had slipped from her shoulders. "Oh, my goodness, Lara, what in the world happened to you?" She held Lara's arms out when her sister tried to rewrap the blanket. "Who did this?" Mrs. Ethelridge looked up from where she was tending to Matthew, having unbuttoned his shirt and helped him out of both it and his jacket. There was a huge bruise on his side, just starting to turn black. "Oh, my. You get out of those ruined things, miss, and I will check on those scratches when I'm finished with his lordship here." She poked at his side, causing him to wince and groan. "Come," Lara said to Kathleen who was looking around, seemingly lost. She jumped when there was a knock at the door which opened upon Mrs. Ethelridge's call. A line of footmen streamed in carrying water and a huge box, an armload of bandages and all sorts of other things that Lara wasn't sure she wanted to know the usage of. She took Kathleen's arm and led her through the connecting door, shutting it securely behind them before dropping the blanket and shrugging out of the ruined gown. "Where is Giles, Lara? He was with me when we came down the corridor. Where is he?" Kathleen hurried after her naked sister as she went to her wardrobe to fetch her dressing gown. "What happened in there?" Lara took a deep breath, belting the sash of her dressing gown securely around her slender waist. The horror of the evening was beginning to take its toll upon her, leaving her feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to return to Matthew's side and curl up next to him in their big bed. Instead, she reached out and took Kathleen's hand, patting it gently and led her over to the bed she'd slept in when she'd first arrived here. "Sit down, Kathleen. This might sound a trifle, well, strange," she began, then told the tale of the ghost and how she'd first become

152

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

acquainted with it. She skipped a few of the more intimate details and ended it with telling the ghost of her relationship to Matthew. Lara knew the rest would break her sister's tender heart. "A ghost? You have a ghost in this castle that hates men and tried to kill Matthew tonight." Kathleen smoothed down the front of her dressing gown before looking back at Lara. "You expect me to believe this?" "Have you not noticed strange things here since you arrived? Have you felt any cold areas that really shouldn't be cold or perhaps heard voices or saw something that you couldn't explain?" Lara asked her, feeling a touch of anger at her disbelief. "Well, perhaps I've felt some areas of the castle that are colder than others, but it's an old castle, Lara. There are bound to be drafts and breezes blowing through." Kathleen frowned. "So drafts and breezes caused the bruises you saw upon Matthew's throat? And they also created these scratches and the tears in my gown? How do you rationalize those things away, Kathleen?" Lara's voice rose as her emotions did. She took a deep breath knowing that when Kathleen asked, she would have to tell her what happened between Kathleen and Giles. "I don't know. It is just difficult to believe that a spirit caused all of this mayhem." Her eyes grew wide and she suddenly grabbed Lara's arm. "Was Giles hurt? Is that why you haven't told me where he is? He isn't..." she stopped, tears sparkling in her eyes. "No, Lynnie, God no, he's okay. He went to find Mrs. Ethelridge. He must be somewhere in the castle." Lara took her sister's hand in her own, warming her cold fingers with her own warmer ones. "Then I should go find him. We...I guess I should wait for Giles, but...we are getting married." The words almost erupted out of Kathleen's mouth, a big smile lighting her face. "Oh, Lynnie," Lara sighed. "I think I should tell you something..." "Can it wait? I really would like to find him," Kathleen said, rising to her feet. "You should get in there and see Matthew. We can talk in the morning?" "But..." Lara began, and then stared helplessly at the doorway as her sister disappeared through it. Her hands lifted weakly in protest and then fell to her lap. **** Robert stirred restlessly, his eyes opening and blinking in the darkness of the room. He didn't know what had disturbed his sleep, but

153

WENDY STONE

something had. He sat up in the bed, his leg moving restlessly, staring with confusion at the unfamiliar walls that surrounded him. A warm, sleek thigh rubbed against his leg, soft and decidedly feminine. Robert ran his hands through his thick blonde hair, his mind on the night before. He'd gone out to celebrate one of his last nights of being a single man, for if he had his way, the night of the ball would find him on his way to seek a quick marriage before Kathleen's good name could become tarnished beyond repair. He'd gone to his club, quickly becoming immersed in the talk of horseflesh and racing. A few good brandies and imported cigars later and he was heading off with a couple of his cronies to find more feminine pastimes. "Hmmm," the dark haired woman at his side murmured, her hand coming up to stroke Robert's naked chest. "Having problems sleeping, m'lord?" Her hand burrowed under the blanket, seeking the length of his cock with her soft palm. He felt himself hardening, his body reacting to her talented palm and the feel of her mouth as it caressed his chest. He allowed himself to be seduced, though he couldn't remember her name. He buried his hand in her dark hair, feeling the thick curls cling to his skin. Fisting his hand, he pushed her face down over his cock, pinching his fingers over her nose when she refused to cooperate and forcing the wide head inside of her mouth when she balked. "Bite me and you'll feel more pain than you've ever felt before," he warned her succinctly. The girl did as she was told, sucking when he urged, gagging around his cock when he thrust it too far down her throat in his passion. He found her breasts with his other hand, his fingers pinching her hanging nipples, feeling them tighten under his fingers. He squeezed the soft flesh, kneading it with no concern to her own pleasures but only to what it could make him feel. Finally, he lifted her up, forcing her to straddle his lap, pulling her down onto his hard cock with one harsh and hard yank upon her waist. "Do what I paid you for, wench," he growled when she just sat there as if in shock. He watched as the girl, not much older than twenty, stiffened her spine and started moving, rising and falling on the hard cock that he'd thrust into her without a by your leave. She was a whore, she should be used to treatment such as this. He paid his money and he expected to be serviced accordingly.

154

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

A cruel and harsh smile crossed his face as he watched a tear of pain slip down her face even as she labored to pleasure him. He thought back to how he'd treated her earlier, the courtly gentleman, so kind and generous, paying her for the entire night. It must have seemed like a wondrous gift, to only have to share her body with one man and not the fifteen or twenty that Madame would have expected her to handle. Robert felt the girl tighten up, her cunt grasping his cock in an even tighter sheath. He thrust into her cruelly, enjoying the wince upon her face. He stared up at the dark haired wench whose name he couldn't recall if he'd ever bothered to get it. He'd been in a lenient mood earlier in the evening when he'd first brought her up to this room for the night, and had allowed her to set the mood of their play. But now, he wanted more from her. He wanted to see her pain. His eyes hardened, a smile of such evil intent crossed his handsome visage that, as she glanced down, she couldn't still the tremor of fear that coursed through her. His hands rose, his fingers reaching for her most sensitive parts, and she knew that she was in trouble. Her first scream echoed throughout the corridor, and Madame Margaret, her face ashen for she knew what was going on behind those closed doors, slowly turned her back, going to her own room to count the coin she had taken in that night. **** Giles stuffed a last handful of material into the small case he was packing, staring around the room to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Though to tell the truth, his mind wasn't on his packing but on the image in his mind of Kathleen saying those hated and expected words. He would never forget the twisted smirk upon her face nor the look of hatred in her eyes. But then again, what had he expected? He sat down on the side of his bed, suddenly unbearably weary. Had he actually really thought that he'd be allowed a happily ever after to the nightmare that was his life? Kathleen closed the door quietly behind her. Her eyes swept the room, noting the drawers that were pulled out, some emptied, and others just rummaged through. His wardrobe doors were wide open, one well shined riding boot lying on the floor as if forgotten. She saw the bag that was now sitting on the floor, a small scrap of white material caught in its clasp. And there was Giles, his eyes shadowed as he stared into the fire he'd added wood to until it was at a bright blaze. He was dressed, though his

155

WENDY STONE

shirt was half untucked and unbuttoned, showing off the mat of hair that covered his chest. His coat was on, though the collar was tucked under and his hair was down and not clubbed back into its usual queue. "Were you called away?" she asked softly, knowing her voice reached him when he stiffened, jumping up from the bed and turning to face her. "Kathleen, you are well?" he asked, his eyes racking over her slender form. "Fine," she said, waving away his concern with a dismissing hand. "Were you called away?" she asked again, her eyes falling upon the case that was now at his feet. "Kathleen, ah, I..." Now that the time was at hand, he wasn't sure how to proceed. "No," he finally said, his eyes meeting the hurt in hers. "I wasn't called away." "Oh," she said softly, her hands clasping together in front of her. "Were you going to say good-bye or just leave with nary a word now that you have had what you wanted from me?" "It isn't like that, Kathleen. You must know, after those words you said, after what occurred earlier, I cannot stay." He looked down, unable to bear seeing the hatred or the pain in her eyes. "What words? What did I say, Giles, which would make you run from me so?" "You do not know?" Giles stepped forward, almost tripping on the small valise at his feet. "You do not remember those words you said to me?" "I would not ask if I did." Kathleen felt his hand on her arm and the gentle tug that sent her walking toward the twin leather chairs that sat in front of the fire. She didn't realize how desperately cold she was until the heat of the fire managed to sink through her skin. "Why will someone not tell me of what happened? What was said?" "It is of no importance," Giles said, sighing. "Let us just say that I regained my wits and know that you deserve someone much better than a no-named killer who could not support you the way you should be supported. You will be happier with someone closer to your own age and social background Kathleen." "I thought we'd been through all of this earlier, Giles. I thought we had decided that we would wed. I thought you knew that those things mean nothing to me. What has changed?" "I have. I've changed my mind, Kathleen." He heard the anger in his own voice, the bitterness that came out like poison spit from a snake and

156

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

saw her wince. Her hatred of him now would be a better thing for all then if he left her here to mourn his loss. "After that pitiful attempt at seduction in that bed earlier tonight, I realized that it just wouldn't work between us, Kathleen. You are just too naïve to understand my needs." Kathleen felt each word as if it were a physical blow. And with each blow, her small chin rose, her back straightened. She rose from the chair when he was through, her posture stiff, her head raised proudly. "I see. I'm sorry; I guess I was mistaken about your feelings. I wish you a good trip, sir." She turned, feeling the tears and sobs threatening already. She had to make it out of this room before they did. Her humiliation would be complete if she broke down in front of him. She made it through the door, closing it quietly behind her before the first sob took her, leaving her shaken, tears tracing down her ashen cheeks. She thought she heard a sound in the room behind her, a roar like an injured beast, but she knew she was mistaken. With one last tear filled glance at his door, she hurried down the corridor, wanting nothing more than to throw herself onto her own bed and cry until the tears would no longer come and she couldn't feel this overwhelming pain that seemed to clog her chest. As her door slammed behind her, in the now empty corridor, a ghostly chuckle echoed.

157

WENDY STONE

Chapter Sixteen Kathleen woke as the weak winter afternoon sunlight streamed into the yellow and cream room that had seemed so wonderful when she'd first arrived. Now, she found little to feel that same joy for. It had been almost five days since the attack and since Giles had left the castle for parts unknown. Even Matthew didn't know where he was, or if he did, he wasn't sharing the information with her. But then again, she thought, sighing as she lifted the heavy blanket that covered her, what would I do? Could she go to him? What was the use? He'd already told her that what she had considered a beautiful experience, he'd thought was a waste of his time. A sob wanted to escape but she grimly fought it back. Tonight was the night of the ball that Robert's mother was giving for Matthew and Lara. She had to attend and she didn't want the questions that would come if she were to make an appearance with her eyes red rimmed and swollen, and her cheeks tear stained. She would go and dance and act as if she hadn't a care in the world. She would be an asset to Matthew and Lara no matter her own grief. Even as she sat at her dressing table, brushing the once glorious mane of pale blonde curls that was now limp and lifeless, she couldn't help but notice the dark shadows under her eyes or the deepened hollows of her cheeks. Her eyes were dim, their spark gone. She tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace. With a sigh, she dropped her brush back on the table, dropping her head on her arms wearily. That was how Lara found her and she felt her heart break for her younger sister. It was so unfair that she should feel such happiness, such joy with the match she'd made, and Kathleen should have her heart broken and be so miserable. Lara stood with her hand on the door, watching her for a moment before shutting the door behind her quietly and coming up behind Kathleen. Lifting the brush in her hand, she started brushing her sister's

158

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

hair for her, just as she had once when they were little. "I'm sorry, Lynnie," she said, her hand following the brush in long strokes. Kathleen nodded, picking her head up and wiping the tears from her eyes. "I didn't mean to cry today. I want to be happy for you, Lara. For you and Matthew both," she said, looking at her sister in the triple mirror. "But you miss him," Lara finished for her, dropping to her knees next to her sister, her pale blue skirt billowing our around her. "Yes," Kathleen sniffed, burying her head in Lara's shoulder. "I feel so dead inside, Lara, like he took my heart with him when he left." Lara held her close, stroking her hair and rocking back and forth slowly. "It will get easier, Lynnie. I promise, it will get easier to bear." Kathleen lifted her head, meeting Lara's eyes. "I don't want it to get easier. I don't want to forget this feeling, Lara. I love Giles with everything I am." She didn't know how to explain, but loving and losing Giles was better than never loving him. "If you'd rather miss the ball tonight, I will make your excuses to the Dentons," Lara offered, using her fingers tips to brush the tears from her sister's cheeks. "No, I wouldn't do that, not tonight, Lara. This is important for you and Matthew." She straightened her shoulders, brushing back a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "I will go and no one will know of the state of my emotions." She picked up the brush from where Lara had dropped it and began working it through her hair once more. "If you will send my maid to me, Lara, I shall be ready to go when everyone else is." Lara took one last worried look at her sister, sighing before dropping a kiss on her cheek and leaving the room to finish preparing. When the horses were at last brought around and the coaches prepared with heated bricks to warm the feet and heavy lap robes to ward off the chill, Kathleen was ready. She was wan but lovely in a pale green gown trimmed with a darker green piping entwined with small pearls. A simple strand of the same adorned her throat, drawing attention to the smooth skin of her cleavage in the deep rounded neckline of her gown. Her pale tresses were curled and pinned to the back of her head, cascading in a waterfall of curls with thin green ribbons woven through them. She looked lovely and serene, her features relaxed. Only by looking deeply into the blue of her eyes could one see the misery and despair she was feeling in her soul. Lara saw it and felt her heart clench even though she gave Kathleen a smile, commenting on how lovely she looked in the satin gown.

159

WENDY STONE

"Lynnie, you will be the talk of the ball, that gown is most becoming." Kathleen returned her smile, though it felt forced and cold. Her eyes took in her golden-haired sister in the velvet gown of deep burgundy trimmed with gold piping, diamonds and garnets gracing her neck and ears. "No one will even notice me after seeing you, Lara. You are beautiful." Before Lara could answer, Matthew came down the wide stairs, his hand going to Lara's shoulder possessively. "She is quite beautiful." He buzzed a quick kiss upon Lara's cheek, and then did the same with Kathleen, squeezing her hand. "And so are you, my sister-to-be." "Thank you, Matthew," Kathleen said, smiling up at him. There was a giggle from above and the three turned to look up the stairs, seeing the three young ladies descending the wide treads. Matthew's sisters, dressed in their finest, hurried down the last of the stairs to be praised and petted for their own beauty. And they were, all had the green eyes of Matthew's father except the youngest, Abigail. Her eyes were smoky gray that turned almost black when her emotions were aroused. Their hair was inky black, thick and curly. They were within a year or so of age of each other, and acted the part of sisters with their fighting and squabbling. But woe became of anyone who would try to harm one of their own. Jane was the oldest, an almost spinster at the ripe age of twenty-two. She'd just become engaged herself and was giddy with every detail of wedding plans and engagement parties that would abound this season. Catherine was the most beautiful of the three, with her green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, pale perfect skin and lustrous raven black hair, she had beaus standing in line at every ball and party they attended. But she was also the most tomboyish of the three. She would rather be riding horses or hunting with Matthew and his friends. She loathed needlepoint, despised shopping and couldn't play a note on any instrument. And then there was Abigail. The youngest at just eighteen, she was a little shy, a little awkward, and unsure. She didn't know how to handle the compliments she was given or deal with the teasing that always came her way. Lara enjoyed each one of them, listening to them talk, one always finishing the other's sentence, or laughing at small jokes that seemed to be known only to them. She felt closest to Catherine though, with her wild

160

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

ways and her flamboyant attitude. But now, she stared at Kathleen as they came down the wide stairs. Kathleen smiled gamely enough, smoothing the glove that she wore over her left hand. She looked up when the giggling stopped, her eyes drawn to the top of the stairs as Matthew's mother descended. She was a beautiful woman, even after having borne and raised five children. Emily was somewhere in her mid forties, her hair just starting to show a bit of gray. Her figure was womanly, her waistline no longer as slender as it had once been, but still firm and trim. She smiled down at the six of them and held her hand out to her son as she reached the lower stairs. "Look at the lot of you, so beautiful girls, the rest of the debutantes at the party do not stand a chance. Kathleen, that gown is stunning on you, child. Lara, you will do my son proud," she leaned over and let her lips rest against Lara's cheek for just a moment. "Now, shall we depart before we are all horribly late for the party?" The coaches were waiting, the interiors warmed a little by the bricks. Lara found herself seated next to her husband-to-be with Kathleen across from her, next to Emily. Matthew wrapped the lap robe warmly over their laps and took her hand in his, holding it under the lap robe and twining his fingers against hers, his thumb brushing against her palm in a way that was setting her blood to heating. She kicked him with her satin covered foot as she tried to keep up with the topic of conversation, hearing him chuckle as he knew her predicament. He'd cornered her earlier this evening as she was heading into her old bedchamber to change for the ball, pushing her against the door of the room after kicking it closed with his foot. His hands had pulled the pins from her hair, laughing as she scolded him for stealing more of her pins. Her scolding had ended, though, when his lips had swooped down, branding hers with the heat and flavor of his mouth. He kept her lips busy, making it impossible for her to argue when he slipped his hands under her skirts, raising them to her hips, his fingers finding the damp heat of her sex and sliding easily inside. His groan at finding her wet and ready for him had her lips curving in a smile against his own until he ripped open the front of his breeches, pushing his hard cock into her, drawing her thighs up until he held her weight easily against him. He had reveled in the feel of her around his cock, the buttery hot velvet of her cunt stretched tightly, taking every long inch of him inside of her, weeping her moisture onto him in her pleasure. He moved slowly,

161

WENDY STONE

hearing her moans and cries, whimpers and pleas and ignoring them. He would take her his way, long slow strokes meant to take her to the highest peak of bliss before shattering around him as his thrusts grew more uncontrolled. And then he'd come inside of her, pulsing deeply, feeling her muscles clamp down upon his cock as she milked it of its nectar. He'd stood her back on her feet with one more quick, passionate kiss, laughing as she stood shakily, her hands going to her hair to push it out of her perspiration slicked face. She'd grabbed her shoe and threw it at him, and he had laughed, catching it and taking it with him, his souvenir of their lusty coupling. Now he leaned close, whispering in her ear. "Your blushes give away your thoughts, my love." He chuckled at the stern gaze she turned upon him. "I am holding your slipper hostage; would you care to know the cost of the ransom?" She glared at him, turning her head away and trying to ignore his amused chuckles as the coaches completed the short trip to the Denton Manor House, a huge country home with a wide balcony surrounding the front and sides of the square two story building. Every window was lit with candles, creating a warm and inviting look to the house. Kathleen stared out the window also, though her mind was not on the upcoming ball or on the inviting lights and the long row of coaches that stood in the long circular drive. No, her mind was where it always was, with Giles. She couldn't help but wonder where he was and if he was all right. She looked up, catching the intimate look that passed between Matthew and Lara, and it hurt, for even though she was happy for her sister, her own heart bled tears of sorrow. "They look happy, don't they?" Lady Emily whispered behind the fan she carried. "She will make him a good Duchess. I worried about him finding a woman strong enough to control him." "I don't know if Lara controls him so much as he loves her enough to changes his ways for her," Kathleen said softly. "He has made her happy, m'lady." "Then it is a good match for I've never seen my son beam as much as he does around her." Emily smiled down at the girl, noting her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes. Her maternal instincts roused, she quirked a lovely chestnut colored brow. "But you, little one, you aren't happy. Is aught amiss?" Kathleen managed a smile though her heart wasn't in it. She wished she could allow her feelings to show and bury her face in the dowager

162

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

duchess's lap and cry out her misery. But she couldn't. "Of course not, ma'am, strange dreams kept me awake last night is all." Emily wasn't convinced, having four daughters and a son made her wise in the ways of the young. But their coach came to the steps with a footman hurrying down to open the door and kick out the steps, holding out his hand to her to help her out. She gracefully presented her hand, stepping out onto the wooden step and down onto the stairs leading to the wide front doorway of the manor. Pulling her cloak more tightly around her, she burrowed her chin into the soft fur that lined the thick wool as a brisk wind blew, stirring her skirts and causing her to shiver. "Mother, you shouldn't wait for us out in this weather. Go on in, I'll wait for my sisters and escort them in." Matthew jumped lithely from the coach as he spoke, turning to help Kathleen and then Lara out. "Nonsense, my darling son. You should go in with your fiancée, it's how things are done, you know." Emily waved her hand in dismissal at her tall, handsome son. Matthew rolled his eyes. "Well, then at least go up the stairs so that you will be out of the wind, mother." Kathleen stepped up next to Emily, linking her arm with the older woman's. "Come," she said, smiling with genuine warmth at the dowager duchess. "Let's get out of this wind," she urged, shivering herself. "Oh, my dear, you shouldn't stand out here. Come, let's get you some place warm." Emily turned to where Lara and Matthew stood. "Matthew, be a dear and gather your sisters along, please." Matthew rolled his eyes again, making Lara laugh. "Yes, mama," he said obediently. "You're such a good son," Lara whispered, giggling behind the hand that she raised to her mouth. "Wait until we get home," Matthew growled, moving closer until he could wrap one arm around her waist and draw her near. "Then I'll show you just how good I can be." Lara's eyes sparkled; her lips curved upward, her smile for him and him alone. "I can hardly wait, your grace. What would you think of skipping this soiree and sneaking back to the coach to head home?" She almost shrieked when Matthew lifted her with the one arm around her waist, turning as if to acquiesce with her plan. "Stop it, Matthew. You know I wasn't serious." "True, it would be most rude if the guests of honor were to miss their own ball, wouldn't it. Hmm, now we have to decide if we care or not."

163

WENDY STONE

Matthew lowered his head, pressing his cold nose into her neck and making her shiver. "It is true, it would be most rude," she moaned softly, moving her head to the side so that Matthew could plant cold kisses down her throat. "Matthew? Are you going to stand there or are you going to help us down?" Catherine's voice, sounding very amused at interrupting their play, broke them apart. "I might drown you first, Cat my dear. You couldn't wait a few extra moments," he growled walking over and picking his sister up by her slender waist to twirl her to the steps. "Oh, but brother, you shouldn't be allowed to have all that fun," Jane said, stepping to the edge of the coach and waiting for Matthew to help her out. "If Byron could be here," she sighed, a hint of drama in her tone. "Yes, Jane, we all know about how wonderful Byron is," Matthew teased, lifting her easily and setting her gracefully on the steps. He turned to his youngest sister who was nervously chewing on her nail as she waited for him. "Abby, stop that before mama sees and decides to scold you," he said gently, taking her slender fingers in his. "You must promise me a dance this evening, little one. I've missed you." Abigail raised her head, looking at her brother with eyes that shone with love mixed with a tiny touch of hero worship. "I missed you, too, Matt. I wanted so badly to go riding but mother won't let me go without an escort." "Then you and I shall go tomorrow. I shall take you up to the old woods and show you that spooky house, you remember, the one everyone says is haunted? Perhaps we'll go inside and scare up a ghost or two," he said, tapping her gently on the chin before lifting her down to the stairs and holding out his arm for her. He stepped up to Lara and offered her his other arm, following the two older girls up the wide steps and into the warmth of the house. Kathleen and Lady Emily had already removed their cloaks as they entered in a swirl of cold wind. They hurriedly doffed their outer garb and made quick repairs to hair and dress before entering the main salon of the house and finding their way to the end of the reception line. Matthew could see Robert from where he stood, bowing over the hand of some young lady and making her giggle nervously. He felt the anger and hatred that he felt for him churn in his stomach and had to fight the urge to turn and leave in disgust. "Why do you dislike him?"

164

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

He turned his head, seeing Kathleen's pale face staring up at him. "I don't dislike," he said quickly. She smiled. "It is there, upon your face, Matthew, when you look at him. He must have done something to put that expression on your face." "You are too astute by far, my charming sister-to-be." He sighed, tugging at the bottom of his pale silver waistcoat that he wore under his black jacket. "It was an event that happened long ago and one that I should have put behind me then." "I knew there was something," Kathleen mused. "You don't look at someone that way for no reason." "He hasn't said anything to you?" "No, though I haven't been receiving visitors since G...since the other night," she quickly amended. "Well, it is an event best left in the past," Matthew said, though he could never forget it. He would be as civil as he could, for Lara and his family. He wouldn't start a scandal tonight. The line moved quickly and soon they were through and heading into the huge ballroom that took up one whole side of the house. It was filled with candles, their flickering flames lighting the immense room and creating a glow of surrealism, as if they'd somehow been transported to some fairy kingdom. The marble floor sparkled, the glasses shone in the shimmering light. Gems glittered at throats and fingers and wrists, twinkled in masses of curling tresses, while the men cut dashing figures like the courtiers of the past. Chairs had been set up for the older generation, while games of chance had been arranged in another room of the house. A huge buffet had been arranged and champagne and wines flowed like water. A small orchestra was set up and playing softly from the corner of the room, the seductive strains of a waltz floating upon the air. Lara was transfixed by the sight in front of her. People who had sneered at her before, when Kathleen and she had been the outcasts with a father who was drunk and penniless, now stared at her as if she were their truest friend. It was disconcerting to say the least. She felt Kathleen at her elbow, felt the girl's slender gloved fingers slip through the curve of her arm. "Lara, do you think Papa is here?" The question startled Lara for it was something she hadn't given thought to. "I do not know, Lynnie. But if he is, you come and find me immediately," she said, giving her sister a solemn look. "We do not wish

165

WENDY STONE

to cause a scandal and embarrass Lady Emily or Robert's mother, but I will not allow father to bully you." "You father will not be here, Lara. Kathleen, don't fret, he will not be here to harass you." Matthew slipped his hand over his bride's, squeezing gently. "How do you know, Matthew? There are so many people here," Kathleen mused, looking about her. "Let's just say a little birdie told me, love. You have nothing to be concerned about, Kathleen. Go and enjoy your evening." He smiled down at her pale face. He noticed the determined frown upon Lara's and sighed. She would keep at him until he told her, he knew. "I shall tell you how I know tomorrow, Lara, but it isn't talk for a celebration." As he spoke, he steered her further into the room, and started to introduce her to both friends and acquaintances from the area. Robert entered the room, and, escorting his mother, led the first dance of the evening. Lara found herself whirled from one set of arms to another until she was dizzy and perspiring. She finally found herself in the arms of her fiancé who pulled her securely next to him and began to waltz with her. She felt light as a feather in his arms, following his much practiced lead with little problem and enjoying his expert skills. He twirled and spun with her, staring down into her eyes and letting the love he felt for her show in his green gaze and in the way he held her. When the music ended, there was silence for a short span of moments and then applause rang out, startling Lara and Matthew out of the spell of their love. Lara blushed as she realized that they were alone on the dance floor, everyone else having moved off to give the engaged couple center stage. She dipped her head, sinking to a curtsey at Matthew's feet, feeling him bow over the hand he still held before he lifted her to her feet. And then her hand was tucked securely in the crook of his arm and he was leading her away from the dance floor thanking the people around them who were congratulating them. When they reached the edge of the floor, she excused herself, wanting to go and freshen up, and then find Kathleen and check to make sure her sister was all right. She hurried up the wide staircase, going down the deserted hallway and into the room that the ladies were using. Quickly seeing to her toilette, she left the room and headed down the stairs, slowly making her way toward the ballroom once more.

166

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

A loud crashing noise startled her, coming from the back part of the house that she hadn't been in before. She stood indecisive for a moment, but concern that someone could be hurt had her turning around to investigate. She slipped down the hall, stopping in front of a closed door, about to tap on it when she heard what sounded like a terrible groan coming from inside the room. Lara tried the doorknob, it was unlocked, so she slipped open the door, finding herself in a small drawing room. It was exquisitely furnished in soft colors of melon and sage, beautiful landscapes hanging from the walls, antique punched rugs placed under delicately carved oak furniture. But it wasn't the furnishing or the décor that caught Lara's eye. No, it was their host, his hands full of struggling female in a familiar green gown. As she watched, in shock, she saw his hand plunge down the front of Kathleen's gown, his fingers grasping and groping. It was her sister's furious screech that unfroze her from the shock of the scene she was witnessing and she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "What in God's name is going on in here?"

167

WENDY STONE

Chapter Seventeen Kathleen stared around the large room full of strangers, feeling a shyness she couldn't explain. Matthew's sisters had all been surrounded the moment they arrived; even Jane had been squired away by an old friend, their heads close together as they told their secrets. She watched as Lady Emily walked over to a group of friends, sitting down and chatting as the noise around her grew louder. Feeling more out of place, she managed to skirt the worst of the crowd and found herself in a shadowed corner. She could watch what was going on from here but still be far enough in the shadows that no one would see her if she didn't wish to be seen. And she didn't. The dancing started; the orchestra playing beautifully and making Kathleen body sway slightly in time with the stirring music. She watched as Robert squired his mother to the floor, saw his eyes darting over the top of Mrs. Denton's head as if he were searching for someone throughout the dance. When his eyes swept over her way, she made doubly sure to move further into the shadows, not wanting to be seen by him. One dance led into another and then another. A waltz was played and she watched as Matthew led a blushing Lara to the floor and held her tenderly in his arms, his eyes for her and her alone. It was so romantic; she couldn't help the little sigh that escaped her. "Love is beautiful, isn't it, my sweet Kathleen? I've been searching everywhere for you," Robert said, moving from where he'd been standing behind her. The gown she wore cupped her breasts, exposing their shape and wonderful fullness, and hinted of other curves that had his hands itching to explore. Marriage to such loveliness would not be a hardship at all once he'd taught her what he expected from her. "R...Robert, you startled me," Kathleen's hand went to her breast as if to control the pounding of her heart. Fear, not caused by his appearing out of no where, sent strange tremors through her for she could see his lust in his eyes as they ran over her form.

168

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"I was hoping for a moment of your time but haven't seen you since you arrived. Have you been hiding here all along?" He moved closer, turning his back on the dancers and reaching out to take her elbow. "I was just enjoying the music and watching the dancing, Robert. And of course, the opulence of your beautiful home," she added, feeling his touch like the slither of a snake over her skin and having to fight not to pull away from him. "Oh, well come with me then and I shall give you a tour of some of it," he smiled gently down at the girl even as his hands brooked no argument, clamping down tightly on her arm and steering her out the closest doorway. "But my sister will be searching for me, Robert. I really shouldn't disappear like this." Kathleen tried to stop but Robert just kept moving. The hallway was empty and he hurried down it, half dragging her with him. "Robert! You're hand is hurting me," she cried and he reached around, slamming his free hand across her soft lips. "Just keep walking my dear. Your champion isn't here tonight, and from what I've been told, he's gone off to drink himself into a stupor. Did the poor peasant baboon get rebuffed?" he whispered in her ear, letting go of her arm as he reached a door and opening it quickly. He pushed her inside, holding her against him with a hard hand as he kicked the door closed behind them. Dragging her over toward one of the long sofas, he chuckled. It had gone just as easily as he'd planned with no one the wiser. Now all he had to do was enjoy the next few moments until the man he'd paid earlier came in and found them in a compromising position and his plan would be complete. He held her in his arms, enjoying the way she struggled against him, her wriggling body brushing his in ways that sent his desire soaring. He'd been with the mewling Elizabeth again last night, knowing he would have to take the edge of his passions, but she'd been no conquest, lying beneath him, her shivering body limp as she turned her face away from his and cried. But not Kathleen. No, she was fiery and fierce, her body struggling, her arms pushing him away from her. He dragged her closer, bending his head and forcing hers up so that he could find the sweetness of her kiss. His lips were hard on hers, punishing her for choosing the servant over him. He ground his mouth against hers, feeling her lip split under the force of his kiss, tasting of the coppery flavor of her blood as he licked over the small wound with his tongue.

169

WENDY STONE

"You shall make me a fine wife," he said, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bottom through the satin of her gown. "Once I have taken your virginity, I shall begin to teach you the way I like being pleased, Kathleen. You shall learn well," he smiled down at her, enjoying the anger and the fear he could see warring in her eyes. "My virginity was already taken, Robert," she said scornfully, hoping the anger covered the trace of fear she could hear in her voice. "I gave it to Giles the same night I told him I love him," she taunted Robert. "I will never marry you, never, do you understand that? You disgust me!" Robert felt the rage boil inside of him, but he tamped it back down, determined to win the day despite what she might say. "Bah, he is nothing compared to me." He pulled her hips closer, grinding his pelvis into her, letting her feel the bulge that filled his trousers. "Do you feel that?" he whispered, holding her tightly against him. "That is what you will know the rest of your life, as my wife. You will bear my children and be in my bed when I want you." "No," Kathleen said, staring up at him determinedly. "I will never willingly go to you. You would have to fight to take me every time. Is that what you want, Robert? You want a wife that will despise the air you breathe?" "I enjoy a good fight, Kathleen," he said, grinning down at her. "But I think you will grow to enjoy my body as I am sure I will enjoy yours." His hand on her bottom started pulling her skirts up, letting her feel the cool air on her stocking clad legs. She struggled harder, her hands pushing against his chest, slapping at him, finally, using strength born from desperation, she pushed him away from her, his body falling against the fireplace, knocking over the iron set of pokers that sat next to it with a loud clanging bang. She was still for a moment in surprise, then she moved, running around the edge of the sofa and hurrying to the door. Robert jumped up, favoring his leg slightly, reached out and grabbed her back to him, her sobs of pain and anger sounding so sweet in his ears. He pulled her closer, his chest to her back, his arm around her waist lifting her off of her feet as she tried to kick him. Looking down over her shoulder, he stared at the heaving mounds of her breasts, licking his fleshy lips before shoving his free hand down the front of her gown. His hand mashed across soft skin and a hard, taut nipple, squeezing around the soft flesh with punishing fingers. "What in God's name is going on in here?"

170

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Robert looked up, hearing the sound of the voice over Kathleen's irate screech. He stared in shock at the girl who stood in front of him. She wasn't supposed to be in here. "Are you deaf, sir?" Lara asked, furious. She hurried forward, meaning to grab her sister and pull her from her attacker's arms. "I demand an answer!" Robert slowly pulled his hand out of Kathleen's gown, feeling her slump slightly as she felt the relief of being saved. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, yanking out the weapon without a second thought and pressing the knife against Kathleen's throat, feeling her jerk back against him as she felt the sharp edge. "I wouldn't recommend moving, my dear, unless you wish to soil this pretty gown with your blood." "You're mad," Lara breathed, aghast at the sight before her eyes. "No, I'm determined. Kathleen will be my bride tonight, and you will come along now as a witness to the happy event. Unless you wish to watch your sister bleed to death in front of you eyes," he said, waving the knife around ever closer to Kathleen's slim throat. "No!" Lara exclaimed, furiously. "Don't hurt her. We'll do as you wish," she said, holding her hands up, trying to placate him. "Good, I'm glad you see things my way. You know, it will be a huge asset having a duchess for a sister-in-law and having Matthew for a brother-in-law after all these years of him hating me. It cannot get much more perfect than this. Perhaps I will let you help us enjoy our wedding night," he said, his gaze roaming lustfully over the burgundy clad form. Lara felt her disgust roil in her stomach mixed with the fear she felt for both herself and her sister. She fought with it for a moment, pressing her hand to her belly as she thought she might be ill. But then Robert opened one of the glass doors that led to the gardens outside, now covered in snow, and the cold air helped, ridding her of the urge to vomit. "You go first," he urged Lara, jerking his head toward the open door. "Walk ahead of us, out the doors and down the stairs around to your left. There will be a coach there. You'll open the door and wait for me." Robert jerked Kathleen around, feeling the knife nick her skin and send a trickle of warm blood down her throat. With Lara watching, he leaned forward and caught the drip on his tongue, laving the trail of blood until he could flick his tongue over the tiny wound. "If you don't want to see her bleed more, you will do as you are told," he said, his lips twisting into what he thought was a charming smile but with the hint of red still upon his lips, it was actually one that

171

WENDY STONE

horrified Lara. That smile was more effective into getting her to do his wishes than his threats could have been. She walked out into the cold, shivering in the wind as she did as she was bid, going around the side of the house. Her slippers became soaked in the snow that covered the ground and she hoped, when Matthew finally realized she was gone, he would find their tracks and know it was her. To make sure, she played with the clasp on the diamond and garnet bracelet that was on her wrist, pulling it free to let it drop in the snow in front of her leg, hoping her gown would hide its descent from Robert's eyes. At the coach, she glanced back, seeing the bracelet lying just inside one of her footprints, and prayed that Matthew would find it. She reached up and opened the coach door, her eyes on the dark figure of the driver who sat on his seat, his reins lying limply through his fingers. A horse whinnied, startling her from her reverie and she felt Robert's hand under her arm, lifting her onto the steps and then pushing her into the coach. She landed head first upon one of the seat, Kathleen coming to rest next to her. Robert jumped up, slamming the door and banging on the roof of the coach which started it in motion almost immediately. "Well, this wasn't quite how I had thought to have this work out but I can't complain. Two such beautiful and charming sisters to wile away my time with during the trip, I don't think any man would complain." His eyes grew hard as he stared at them. "Get into the seat, both of you." Lara helped Kathleen whose body shivered with fear and cold. "He's mad," she heard Kathleen whisper to her. "He's completely mad." Amber eyes met blue with a look that tried to calm and comfort though Lara felt little to be comforted with. She held her sister's hand, hidden from Robert's eyes by the gowns they wore. And she stared back at the man, hatred and disgust plain in her amber gaze. "You won't get away with this. Matthew will come after you as soon as he realizes I am missing. You must know this." "I do, but then he will have to figure out where we have gone, won't he? By the time he does, Kathleen and I will be wed and the three of us will be well on our way to celebrating the nuptials. Who knows," he giggled inanely, "perhaps after I'm through with you, he won't want you anymore and then you can come and stay with Kathleen and I forever." "I'd rather die than be forced to submit to you," Kathleen ground out between chattering teeth. "You will have to kill me with that knife, for I will never willingly say vows that will bind me to you."

172

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Oh, my love," he said, laughing, his head thrown back in glee. "I shan't have to kill you, nor force you to say anything. If you don't obey me I shall just use the knife on your sister." Both girls stared at him in horror. How could they fight him knowing that he would take the punishment out on the other? "Now, how about a little demonstration of what I mean," he said, wiggling his fingers at Kathleen. "Come here, my dear. Sit next to your loving fiancé." Kathleen stared at him, frozen, unable to move as the horror of their situation sank into her brain. She would have to submit to him, to do what he wished if she wanted to keep Lara alive. "I said, come here!" he ordered, his tone brooking no disobedience. Lara squeezed her hand tightly before letting go. "If you hurt her, there will be no place that you'll be able to run that will hide you from me," she vowed, her eyes full of her hatred. Robert stared at her for a moment, and then he threw back his head, laughing. "There will be no place," he managed to say in a mocking tone before breaking up in laughter again. "Oh, Lara," he chuckled, wiping his eyes. "That was precious. Now," his voice lost the hint of amusement, "Kathleen this is your final chance. Come here or watch me use my knife on your sister's pretty throat." Kathleen rose, slowly, and shifted until she was sitting on the same seat as Robert though she pressed up against the side of the coach, trying to keep from touching him. She looked at him, her eyes wary, like those of a fox searching for a way to hide from the hounds. "No, no," Robert said, reaching out his hand and snagging Kathleen's wrist to drag her over closer to him, "that will never do, love. You must always come straight to me when I call, or else I shall have to punish you." His hand lifted her face, staring down into her blue eyes that were full of hatred. "Such a pretty girl, such lovely skin," he sighed, running his hand down the side of her face and over her throat, his fingers trailing purposefully over the oozing wound he'd given her earlier. It moved lower and he heard the whimper that tried to escape her as he pushed his hand once more into the bodice of her gown. His fingers wrapped around one firm mound of silky flesh, enjoying the way her body shook under his hand, rocking against his with the motion of the coach. "Oh, but this is no good, your gown is too tight, love. Lara," he said, turning to face the other girl, "come over here and release the buttons on

173

WENDY STONE

your sister's pretty gown so it doesn't become ripped. I'd hate for her to be wed in a gown that was torn and disheveled." Lara shook her head slowly, wanting to deny what she was seeing in front of her eyes. He wanted her to help him defile her sister? How could she do that? "Do it, love, or someone will be getting hurt," he growled, squeezing harder around Kathleen's breast and hearing her squeak in protest. Lara moved over to her sister's side, tears sliding down her cheeks as she fumbled with the first tiny button that held the gown closed. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Kathleen as it gave under her shaking fingers. "Just do it," Kathleen whispered back, her eyes closed in shame and horror. She felt his hands touching her, squeezing and mauling her flesh and knew only revulsion. They felt clammy against her shrinking flesh, moving more freely with every button that Lara undid. The tiny sleeves of the gown slipped over her shoulders, the bodice dipped low, exposing Robert's hand clamped around her full breast, the nipple peeping out between his spread fingers. He leaned back in the seat, staring down at her bared flesh, a slow smile emerging on his face. "So very pretty, Kathleen, my love," he crooned, lifting his hand to tweak at her nipple. "I had wondered if everything under that bodice was yours. You don't know how pleased I am that it is." "You make me sick," Kathleen whispered, tears slipping over her cheeks though her eyes were hard with hatred. "You may be able to rape my body but you'll never have my love. I gave that to Giles." "Oh, love is such a waste of time. I shall be most happy with just having your body to do with as I wish, as well as the connection that comes from being related to your darling sister." He pulled his hand free of her body, watching as her breasts swung from the motion of the coach. "Finish that, my dear," he said to Lara who had stopped with her chore. "Then turn around so that Kathleen may return the favor." "If you touch me, Matthew will kill you," Lara hissed, staring into his eyes. "Oh, he might kill me but he'd never harm his new sister-in-law." Robert watched her eyes, seeing the exact moment when his meaning became clear. "You bastard," Lara hissed, her cheeks glowing as thoughts of what he had in mind became unbearably clear to her. "You cannot expect me to...to..." she swallowed heavily, unable to finish the thought.

174

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"I expect you to do as I say, Lara, whether it is what you wish to do or not. Now to be more specific," he said, pushing the small warming bricks aside that had been helping in keeping the worst of the chill from the coach. "Come around here to your knees, I wish to see you suckle upon your sister's pretty little nipples." **** Matthew's gaze moved over the dancing couples, searching for a flash of burgundy gown that would pinpoint Lara's whereabouts. She'd been gone for far too long to just repair her hair and refresh herself from the dancing. His eyes narrowed as he realized he didn't see Robert or Kathleen either, as his gaze swept from one side of the large room to the next. Striding over to his mother, he bent to whisper in her ear. "Have you seen either Kathleen or Lara? They seem to have disappeared." Lady Emily glanced around, her eyes going to the shadowed corner where Kathleen had been standing just a few moments before. "No, I haven't." She looked up, her eyes noting the concern upon her son's handsome mien. "Should I worry, Matthew?" "No, not yet, mother. I'll see if perhaps I can round up Robert and see if he knows of their whereabouts." Lady Emily rose, excusing herself from her group of friends and taking her son's arm. "I'll speak with Mirabelle and see if perhaps she has seen them. Don't worry, son, I am sure they are both just fine." Matthew gave his mother a kiss on her still comely cheek, before turning and leaving the ballroom. He walked down the hall, peering into the gaming room with an eye for finding their blond-haired host. A noise made him turn and glance down the hallway that led to the back part of the house and he saw a younger man, his clothes slightly shabby, opening a door off of the hallway. Even before the door was fully open, he heard the man exclaim loudly. "What the devil is this?" Matthew hurried toward him, noting the confused look upon the man's face as he stood in the open door, not moving. "Yes, I agree," he said quietly, coming up behind the man. "What is this?" He grabbed the man by the collar of his coat, tossing him into the room and going in after him to close the door behind them. The room was cold, the glass door to the garden wide open and letting in a draft of cold air. Some of the furniture was out of place and a cushion was on the floor next to a set of knocked over fireplace tools. "What do you know about this?" Matthew said, grabbing a fistful of shirt and holding the younger and smaller man by it.

175

WENDY STONE

"N...nothing, sir, honestly. I was told to come to this room and open the door and say a phrase. That's all." Matthew could feel the man trembling and knew it wasn't from the cold. "Who paid you?" he asked, his voice a husky growl that brooked no falsehoods. "R...Robert Denton, sir," the man stuttered. "He paid me to catch him and some wench in a compromising position and then to raise a fuss about it, sir." "So where is he?" Matthew growled, shaking the man the way a dog does his prey. In his mind, he knew what Robert planned and he knew who the 'wench' was that would be compromised. "I...I don't know. Honest, m'lord. He was supposed to be in this room. I did everything I was paid to do." The man felt the grip upon him loosen and then the hand drop from his shirt and felt a surge of relief. "Get out of here," Matthew said. "And if you know what's good for you, I won't hear the tale bandied about, for if I do, there will be hell to pay," he growled the last in warning. He didn't even stay to watch the man leave, instead, going to the door that was still open and seeing the footprints in the fresh snow outside. He followed them around, noting two sets of smaller prints and one set of boot prints in the snow. Just after the edge of the house, he saw something sparkle in the snow and bent to pick it up. His heart leapt to his throat and then sank in one swift move that left him dizzy with fear. In his hand, winking up at him in the light of the windows was a diamond and garnet bracelet, the same as he'd seen flashing so prettily up from Lara's wrist earlier this evening. The bastard had both of them!

176

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Chapter Eighteen Matthew spent mere second staring at those bits of shiny gems in his hand before turning to run back into the house. He hurried into the ballroom, finding his mother and Mirabella together, their faces turning toward him, mirror images of worry upon them. "Did you find them, son?" Lady Emily asked, her hand going out to touch his arm. "No, but I know who has them. That bastard won't get away with it." He stared at Robert's mother, trying to control the hate and fear that was burning in his gut. "Your son has absconded with my fiancée and her sister. I need a horse and I need it now." Mirabelle didn't even ask before she grabbed the nearest footman and whispered instructions in his ear, instructions that he ran off to perform with a quick bow to her. "The horse will be at the door," she said, her voice cracking slightly with the pressure she was under. "I'm very sorry about this, Matthew. Your family has always been very good to me." Matthew nodded once before hurriedly following the footman and gathering his cloak. He had a stop to make and then to find where that coach was going before any damage could be done. **** Lady Emily watched him leave before turning to her friend. "You didn't even question that it could be Robert's doing?" she asked, astounded. "My son has been acting very strangely the past few years, Emily," Mirabelle confided, her eyes showing her pain. "I've tried to hide it to myself but, ever since he discovered these old journals written by one of the Denton ancestors, a lady with quite the illustrious past I've been told, he's not been himself. I've asked him, I've begged him to talk with me over these matters but he calls me fanciful. And I know how he felt about Matthew, has felt about his since the day of the accident, when Jeremy was killed. I should have known that this party was a hoax for some devious scheme." Lady Emily sighed, reaching out to take two crystal flutes of champagne from a passing footman and pressed one into her friend's hand.

177

WENDY STONE

"It isn't your fault, Mirabelle. Raising children isn't easy, especially when one does such on one's own. You aren't to be blamed for this." "You are truly a wonderful friend, Emily." Mirabelle sipped the bubbling fluid with a sigh. "But I know that Robert is up to no good and I know what could happen when Matthew finds him." A delicate shudder took her slender form. "I only hope your son can show mine the mercy that Robert has never given others." **** "Come around here to your knees, I wish to see you suckle upon your sister's pretty little nipples." Lara stared at Robert, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock. That he would truly want something so despicable of her, so unnatural, was almost more than she could take. "You have a choice, Lara. You can do as you're told and play with these little beauties," he said, reaching out and tweaking both Kathleen's nipples, rolling them in his fingers and making her shudder with distaste. "Or I can use the knife and hand them to you to play with. Which would you prefer?" Lara rose, moving around until she faced Kathleen, her eyes on her sister's pale face. The lantern that lit the small space gave off a harsh light that made the shadows under Kathleen's eyes stand out like bruises. She'd lost weight since Giles had left, leaving her bones to seem so fragile against her skin. She seemed so delicate, as if one blow would finish her off. Lara couldn't bear to hurt her worse. "It will be all right, my love," she whispered to her sister, kneeling in front of her and putting her arms around Kathleen's naked back. "Just close your eyes and picture yourself someplace beautiful and this nightmare will be over soon." Kathleen closed eyes, a shudder causing her body to shake. She hugged her sister back, reveling in her warmth before Robert's words drew her back. "Enough," he snarled, yanking Kathleen back until she almost rested in his lap. "You," he said, pointing at Lara. "Pull down your gown and let me see how you compare against your sister." "Matthew will kill you," Lara said, her eyes flashing daggers at him even as she reached behind her to unfasten her gown, tearing at the buttons when they wouldn't give way. "He will find us and then he will kill you and I'm going to enjoy watching your demise." ****

178

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Up on the driver's seat, the coachmen had pulled his hat down closer around his face. The wind was harsh and cold this night and he was happy for the company of his drinking mate who'd tagged along at the last second. "Bleedin' nabobs. Never can do nothin' the easy way," he complained good naturedly to his friend. "Ain't that the truth," his mate told him, slapping him on the back. "So where's he takin' them fine lookin' ladies?" he asked, ducking his head so that the driver couldn't see the keen interest in his eyes. "He's takin' the one lady up to one of them border towns. Plannin' on a quick wedding at Gretna Green is my way o' thinkin'. I'm a bettin' that we'll have family screamin' at our heels the entire trip," he said, swinging his whip over his horses' backs. "Hi ho, me beauties. We've a long night ahead of us." **** Matthew pulled the horse he was riding to such a short stop he rose on his hind legs, fighting for control of the bit in his mouth before once more standing, shuddering at the unfamiliar rider and strange treatment he was receiving. Matthew didn't wait, but jumped to the ground, throwing the reins to the boy who came out of the inn with a threat that if "that horse isn't there and waiting when I come out, I'll skin you alive." He rushed into the inn, staring around the crowded tables, searching for the man he'd known he would find there. He wasn't at his usual spot, a corner table where he'd sit with his back to the wall, a pint in front of him that he'd be steadily pulling on. And Matthew could see him no where else in the warm room. "Giles Reversham," he shouted at the bar keep, a grizzled old man who ran his inn with a firm hand and a stingy one. "E's gone with that bounder, Bodkin Trace. Some kind of job they got to drive some fancy piece up to the border lands." He glared as Matthew threw a coin, picking it up off the bar and flipping it smartly into the air so that it landed in the till behind the bar before going back to what he'd been doing before he'd been interrupted. Matthew ran out, grabbing the reins from the boy and throwing him a coin that made his eyes shine with greed. "Thank ye, ye highness," he shouted as the animal was wheeled around, his hoofs digging furrows in the ground as Matthew rode off into the darkness once more. Could he have been that lucky? Could Giles actually be with the coach that held the girls? He couldn't help the prayers that flickered into

179

WENDY STONE

his thoughts and he hoped that he was right, that Giles was there and rescuing the two sisters even as Matthew tore off after them. **** Robert stared at Lara's breasts. They were round and firm, her nipples pale pink against her ivory skin. The cold touched her nipples, forcing them to contract into tight buds, reddening them and making them stand taut upon her soft flesh. "You'd think sisters would have nipples that would be somewhat similar, wouldn't you?" he asked, though he didn't seem to expect an answer as he looked from Lara to Kathleen, whose nipples were more brown than pink, larger than her sister's but just as hard. "But they do say that variety is the spice of life," he giggled, reaching across Kathleen to touch Lara. She gasped as he made contact with her cold skin for his hand was almost hot, and despite herself, she felt her skin long for the warmth he could give it. But her stomach shuddered in revulsion as he played with her nipples, before gripping one tightly and bringing her closer to Kathleen once more. "Hold them in your hands, Lara. I want to watch you rub nipples with your sister." He giggled again when both girls stared at him in shock. "Do it," he said, his voice imbibed with a singsong quality that played on the surrealism of what was happening. He lifted his hand, tipping the knife back and forth between his fingers as if to remind them that it was still there and still a force to be reckoned with. Lara brought her hands up slow, cupping her breasts, scooting forward on her knees until she felt the warmth of Kathleen's skin against her own. "I'm sorry," she whispered to her shocked sister before using her hands to help move her against Kathleen's breasts their nipples rubbing against each other in tiny little circles. Kathleen's eyes shut once more as she felt the warmth of her sister's skin with a pleasure she wasn't expecting to feel. She was just so cold, it felt as if it were coming from inside of her, as if she'd never know anything but the cold ever again. And Lara's warmth drew her from that, the tiny shocks of pleasure she received as her nipples were brushed against, over and over, seemed a way almost of forgetting what was happening to her here, a way of forgetting that her one love, Giles, didn't want her. "That's very nice, Lara. I think Kathleen is enjoying herself. Now, I want to see you take those sweet, pretty nipples into your mouth."

180

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"No," Lara said, shaking her head slowly. "What you ask is a sin against nature and God. How can you be so depraved as to find pleasure in this?" He laughed before patting her on the head as one would a pet. "Lara, love, you really have no choice in the matter here. Unless you really don't care what happens to your darling sister. I mean," he added with a feigned air of boredom, "I could do it myself. I could fuck her right in front of your eyes, perhaps have you help. Is that more to your liking?" "No," Kathleen said, her eyes opening wide as she looked from Robert's evil visage to her sister's concerned one. "Please Lara, I beg of you, I don't want that bastard inside of me." She reached out her hand, taking Lara's cold fingers in her own. "It is the much lesser of two evils, please?" she begged shamelessly, tears streaking down her pale cheeks. "Oh, said so prettily," Robert chuckled. "But my love, before this night is over, you and I shall have to consummate our own married bliss." He turned Kathleen's face up to his, his fleshy lips finding hers, inhaling as if trying to suck the air from her lungs. He held her tight, despite her struggles, feeling her small fists come up to beat at his chest. "Stop!" Lara shouted, throwing herself at him as well. Her hands pulled at his arms, slapped at him desperately, screaming invectives as loudly as she could. **** "Wot's at?" Bodkin Trace lifted his head, hearing the ruckus and the screaming in his coach. He turned to his companion, whose head was lifted as well. "Wot do ye think?" he said, jerking his head toward the closed compartment. "I think I'm sorry about this, Bodkin," Giles said, his fist making firm contact with the man's jaw. He grabbed him before he could fall over the edge of the coach, propping him up against the seat and reaching for the reins that now lay lax over his hand. With a shout, he drew the horses in, slowing the four big beasts until they stopped. He placed the brake and then jumped down, the screaming that was coming from inside the coach still loud in his ears. Throwing open the coach door, he reached in past pale limbs and frilled underskirts, grabbing the man who sat in the corner and yanking him from the coach letting him drop to the ground at his feet. "Get up," he growled, standing over him, his legs a shoulders width apart, looking huge in the heavy coat he wore.

181

WENDY STONE

Robert scuttled backwards, his eyes on the hulking figure above him. He grabbed for the knife when he saw it, a dark shape in the snow next to his hand. Jumping to his feet, he held it in front of him, slashing out with it whenever the brute took a step toward him. "Stay back," Robert screamed, his arm swinging wildly. He took a quick glance behind him, seeing Lara and Kathleen standing at the door of the coach, their hands holding their bodices over their breasts. If he could grab one of them, use them as hostages, perhaps he could get away. If not? He swallowed heavily. Giles would kill him. He backed slowly away, twisting to keep Giles in his line of sight as the man moved forward, his eyes upon the swinging knife. A few more steps and he would be in reach, he thought, glancing back once more. Just a few more steps... **** Kathleen stared in disbelief at the figure of their rescuer. In the dim light that shone from the door of the coach, she could see his eyes glance over her way, see him assess the damage done to her by the way she held the front of her gown over her breasts and then see the look of murder that came into his eyes. Giles moved forward, intent upon his prey even with the knife that threatened to slice and hack at him. He wouldn't allow this bastard another chance to cause harm to Kathleen, ever. "Stay back," Robert shouted, though Giles had no intent to obey. Not after what he'd seen, Kathleen's mussed hair, her swollen and bruised lips, the disheveled gown gaping at the bodice. He wouldn't allow the man to live, not after the trespass he'd committed. He stepped forward again, watching the swing of the knife, timing it. He would step inside the reach of the knife and knock it from his hand and then... A huge horse came barreling out of the darkness, looming over him and making him roll out of the way. Robert screamed, seeing his death at the hooves of the massive beast. He dropped the knife, turned and fled into the night, running through the snow with no thought as to destination. "Matthew!" Lara's cry brought his eyes to her and he wheeled the big beast to the door of the coach, reaching in and grabbing her to him. "I'm never letting you out of the castle again," he whispered, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. Lara didn't complain, her hands were holding him as tightly as she could, feeling finally safe now that he was here. "I was so scared,

182

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Matthew. The things he wanted me to do, that he wanted us to do," she shuddered, though it wasn't from the cold. "Are you hurt?" he asked, pulling her to sit across his lap on the saddle, studying her face in the dim light. "No, we are both fine," she whispered, holding onto him. "But Robert...?" "Has gotten away, thanks to you and that big brute you're riding," Giles said, coming out of the dark where he'd tried to chase Robert. "He can't run far," Matthew said. "I think it's more important that we take these two home and get them warm and in bed, don't you, Giles?" "Wot...Wot the bloody 'ell happened 'ere?" Bodkin asked, sitting up and staring around at those on the ground. "Who 'it me?" "We hit a snag in the road, Bodkin, and your jaw found my fist," Giles said, grinning up at his friend. "Then your fare decided to find another way to make his trip. So now, I guess I'll be hiring you to take these fine folks back to the castle." "Gent didn't get 'is money's worth," Bodkin said, cracking a grin for he'd already been paid for the long journey. "But who can understand these bleedin' nabobs anyways?" He scratched his bald head before replacing his hat, gathering up his reins. "I'm taking Lara back with me," Matthew said, pulling his long cloak around her and feeling her settle in snuggling next to his warmth. "Can you escort Kathleen back to the castle, Giles? I'd feel better knowing you're in the coach with here in case Robert tries anything else." Giles felt a panic unlike anything he'd ever felt before settle into his stomach, clenching around his heart. They wanted him to sit in a closed coach, to sit across from the woman he loved, whose image had been wrapped in his mind until she was all he thought of, all he could see. He couldn't sleep, and when his mind did finally shut down for those few moments of rest, she'd be there, her body soft and warm, urging him to love her. And then the words that damned witch ghost had used would come back to him and he would wake, his cock hard, his balls full to bursting, his heart torn in two. He'd been looking forward to a fight with Robert ever since Bodkin had told him of the fare he'd picked up. It would feel good to feel flesh under his fist, to be able to fight at least one demon that wished him harm. He turned and stared at the pale girl that haunted his dreams, seeing the pain upon her face as she stared at him. "I'll take her back to the

183

WENDY STONE

castle," he said. "But then I must leave again, Matthew. I'll stick around until Robert is caught but then I have to leave the area." Kathleen heard his words and sank back into the coach, her back coming against the cold seat. Her heart was breaking all over again, hearing how he wanted to get away from her. But she couldn't cry, she wouldn't, not in front of him. Even though her heart urged her to beg him to forgive whatever words she'd said that had caused this damage between them, her pride refused to let her. "You are a fool," Lara said, her voice furious. "My sister loves you with her whole heart. She can't sleep, she isn't eating, and she's wasting away in front of me because of you. Get over your damnable pride, Giles, before you lose her for good." "You don't know what I've done, what I've been," he said slowly, his head bowed. "I know what you are and what I have seen you do. You've rescued both me and my sister from a terrible fate, my sister more than once. You're kind and a gentleman. You make her happy. Don't you realize that her happiness is all that I want for her?" Lara angrily wiped a tear off of her cheek. "That is all I wish for her as well, but it can't be found with me. I'm sorry." He turned away, going to the door of the coach and pulling himself inside. "Stubborn, pig-headed, obnoxious fool," Lara hissed, watching as he took the seat across from her sister before reaching out and closing the door of the coach. "Obnoxious?" Matthew asked, his lips twitching as he fought not to smile. "It seemed to fit with the rest of what I was calling him," Lara said, reaching up to cup his cheek and drag his face down to hers. "Kiss me, Matthew, I was so scared." He didn't need to be asked twice, gathering her luscious body up against his, and letting the reins go to pull her even closer. His lips found hers, all the frustration, anxiety, fear, and love he felt let loose in that one long kiss. When he raised his head, her mouth was swollen and red, her eyes starry and half closed. "I won't lose you, Lara," he whispered, finding her mouth again. "I can't lose you; it would kill me to be without you." ****

184

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

The silence in the coach was broken only by the sound of the wheels and the squeaking of the springs. Kathleen sat on her side of the coach, her hand holding her gown to her breasts, her body shivering in the cold. Her eyes were on the floor, seeing his boots so near her own wet slippers. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, gently, making her jerk as his words broke the tension of the silence around them. She nodded her head, not daring to look into his face. If she saw any caring or tenderness in his eyes, she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears. She heard him fumbling, saw his feet moving and then felt him come and sit next to her. She pulled away when she felt his hands coming down on her shoulders, staring up at him with shock in her eyes. "You're cold," he said, his coat in his hands. "I thought you might care for the use of my coat." "T...thank you," Kathleen said, so softly his head moved down to catch her words. "B...but if you could button my gown, it w...would help." Giles stared at the long smooth line of flesh she exposed when she turned her back to him and felt his heart lurch. She was so beautiful, so much like a porcelain doll he'd seen as a boy, perched in a fancy carriage next to a pretty little girl. But Kathleen was warm and alive, and so lovely it hurt to look upon her though his eyes drank in the sight of her greedily, the soft nape of her neck, so tender and fragile and made for the shape of his kiss. Her shoulders were pale and perfect, the tiny freckles that dotted their smooth surface creating a pathway for his lips to follow. The shape of her jaw, so delicate and yet so stubborn, the smooth curve of her cheek, the long play of her lashes that tangled so deliciously as they brushed her skin, all were created by a vengeful God who wished to torment him with the wonder of the person Kathleen was, the person that he could not have. He sighed, reaching out his big, thick hands toward the buttons, amazed to see that he was shaking. His eyes closed as the tip of his finger brushed over her satiny skin, feeling her warmth. Just a little more, he thought, brushing that finger inside of her gown and over the soft skin that covered her spine, letting another join the play until he realized his hand was pressed against her, moving around the curve of her ribs, feeling the warmth of the underside of her breast lying with sweet weight against his palm. Kathleen moaned at his touch, a tear skimming the length of her lashes before falling onto her lap unnoticed. She turned her head to look at

185

WENDY STONE

him, dropping her hand from the bodice of her gown and feeling it slide to her waist, caught on the crook of her elbows. "Giles," she whimpered as his fingers played over her swollen nipple. His chest heaved as he fought for breath. He could smell her, the delicate scent of her perfume, the wonderful aroma of her arousal as they combined in the air around him, creating an aphrodisiac of delight that he was helpless to combat. He wanted her so badly; death would have been preferable to the week that he'd just had to live. To have her here, looking at him with those perfect blue eyes full of love and lust, he couldn't resist. He couldn't resist any more and keep his sanity. "Kathleen," he managed to growl before yanking her to him, his mouth finding the sweetness of hers and feasting like the hungry beast he was. He felt her arms come up and around his neck and knew a moment of the most wonderful triumph that sent his heart to racing, and his cock to straining against his breeches in fervent need. His tongue tangled against hers, battling, coaxing, tantalizing until she was moving against his shirt covered chest with an anxiousness that had her gasping his name. Her fingers found his buttons, pulling them opening, ripping one off in her haste to bare his flesh to her eyes and hands, growling in her throat when his shirt refused to cooperate. And then her hands were on his chest, her fingers tangling in the thick mat of hair that covered his hard skin. She pushed him back on the seat, lifting her gown over her knees until she could straddle his hips, her hands moving over his chest, her mouth coming down to find his nipple. She stroked it with her tongue, hearing his moan and feeling him jerk under her, his hard hands coming to her waist and then sliding up and over her full breasts. He lifted her to his mouth, unable to resist the sweetness of her passionate flavor, loving the dark heat of her mouth as it moved over his own. His thumbs stroked over her nipples, hearing her whimpers, feeling the sweet sound of them under his lips. He groaned when her hands went to the band at his breeches fumbling with the buttons there. Giles couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when the buttons proved as stubborn as his shirt and she cursed the air blue, surprising him with her knowledge of curses. She looked up as he laughed, and smiled, bringing a light to her eyes and a radiant glow to her face that sent his heart to his throat at her beauty. His hand rose, cupping her soft jaw, his palm warm against her cheek as he looked down at her. The words he wanted to say, words of love and caring, words of commitment, seemed bottled up inside of him as if a cork

186

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

held them trapped deep inside. Fear was that cork, fear of being scorned, fear of being rebuffed, fear of not seeing that love in her eyes every day for the rest of his life kept him from opening up to her. Kathleen watched as his eyes closed, shutting her out. She felt that same feeling of dread that crushed her stomach in a cruel grasp, causing pain to cloud her eyes at his dismissal of her. "Would it help if I told you that I am expecting?" she whispered, watching as his eyes opened wide then stared at her with a mixture of hope and joy. "Are you?" he asked, his breath caught in his chest as he waited for her answer. "I...I don't know yet, for sure," she hedged. "But if I was, if our one night together had produced a child, would you still leave me to my fate, to face the ridicule and scorn of bearing a child without its father?" "I..." he broke off, staring up at her. "I couldn't do that. I couldn't bear to think of you raising my daughter alone, of never having the chance to hold her and love her like I love her mother." His thumb brushed across her lips, feeling them part and the tip of her tongue glide over the thick calloused pad before drawing it into her mouth to nibble gently. "If you keep that up," he groaned, feeling her soft lips wrap around the base of his thumb, sucking and licking at the flesh she held in her mouth, "you will definitely end up pregnant." "Good," she whispered, pulling his thumb from her mouth and moving his hand to her breast, squeezing her fingers around it. "I want to have your child. I want to feel it grow inside of me, feel every kick and push it makes. And then nurse it at my breast. Wouldn't you like to see that?" "God, yes," he breathed, her soft words seducing him into seeing the homey picture, her sitting in a rocker, their babe at her breast, a fire burning brightly in the grate in front of them. Him, sitting at her feet, his hand resting against his daughter's blonde head, for she would be the spitting image of her mother. Her fingers pulled again at his buttons, getting them undone to reach inside and pull his hard cock from between the placket. It was hot and huge in her hands, the thick rounded head covered with a slippery clear fluid. Gathering her skirts in one hand, she pulled them up around her waist, determined to make him see what they could have. She felt the hard tip pressing with gentle insistence at her core, felt the wetness from her body flow over him, warming them both. He slid

187

WENDY STONE

inside of her, stretching her delicate sheath with his wide girth until she was almost delirious from the fullness inside of her. Sinking down on him, she felt the tip nudge against the opening to her womb, protected by that rubbery barrier. Kathleen moved over him, experimenting upon what felt the best, her eyes watching his face. She could see the pleasure in the harshness of his grimace, his hands coming up to grab her hips, holding her still over him. "We shouldn't be doing this," he groaned. She wanted to cry, to scream at him for his stubbornness. Instead she ground herself against him, hearing his gasp and then moan at the pleasure she gave him. "Why?" she snarled at him. "Why shouldn't we be doing this?" "Because," he managed to say around gritted teeth. "I don't want our daughter conceived on the bench in a coach. Wouldn't you rather wait to we get to our bed?" He smiled up at her even as she kept up the movements that were driving him closer to his release. Kathleen froze, her eyes staring down at him as if she weren't sure she was hearing him right. "Our bed?" she asked. "Yes, our bed," he said, his smile wider. "I can't fight you anymore. Hell, I can't fight myself anymore. But," he said, wagging his finger under her nose, "if you think that a few words will get rid of me, than you'd better think again. I won't be leaving you, ever. Do you understand?" "Yes, Giles," she said promptly. "Now, as far as our daughter being conceived on a coach seat, if her mother doesn't mind, why should she?" **** It was late, the castle had grown quiet. The ball had ended, the other ladies returned to the castle in time to hear the happy news of the absconded being found and returned safe and sound to the arms of their men. All had retired to their respective chambers though some not to stay the night there, only to wait until others slept before sneaking through silent corridors and into loving arms. In the tower, strange lights played around the windows, fabric moving through the air as if a huge gust of wind were blowing through. A strange chuckling could be heard and then a scream that ended in a torrent of garbled words. And on the grounds, just outside a little known door that led into the bowels of the castle, the moon shone its wide face down upon a shadowy figure, highlighting the cruel visage of the man tormented by failure.

188

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

He lifted the latch, smiling when it lifted easily and opened onto a set of little used stairs that led to the second floor. This time would be different, he thought, staring out at the moon for one moment before closing himself into the darkness of the castle. This time he would be the champion, he would win the girl, he would be the hero. And, like a rat that crawls and creeps unnoticed, Robert began to make his way through the huge house, his mind fixed upon his target.

189

WENDY STONE

Chapter Nineteen Kathleen woke slowly, feeling snug and warm, wrapped securely in Giles' strong arms, her head pillowed against his chest. She sighed, content with her world and all that was in it. Opening her eyes, she could tell it was still early, way too early to think about leaving the warmth and comfort of Giles' arms. Stretching, she pressed her body up against his, hearing him murmur her name in his sleep. She couldn't help but smile as his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as if he thought she'd try to get away. Ha! Not too bloody likely, she thought. Not after all the time it took for her to get here in the first place. A noise caught her attention and she lifted her head, trying to decide where the noise came from. It came again, this time from behind her, and she rolled quickly, her shocked cry waking Giles and surprising the black shadow that was suddenly above her. She startled it enough that the blow it sought to land upon Giles' head missed, and deflected onto his shoulder. Giles cursed, reaching out hurriedly, trying to grapple the club away from the intruder. He was hampered by the bedclothes that twisted around his body, holding him captive. Kathleen squirmed out from under the two men, her body shaking as she tried to stand, ready to jump on the back of their attacker if necessary. And then the club rose and fell and the attack ended. Kathleen stood shaking, unsure of what to do. "Giles?" she said, hesitatingly. The shadowed figure rose from the bed, turning to stare at her, taking in the beauty of her naked form with eyes that weren't quite sane. "No, and I refuse to let you have more than one further guess as to who I am," he said, chuckling at what he thought was his own rare wit. "R-Robert? W-what do you want?" Kathleen began backing away slowly, trying to not let him see her fear. "I want what I wanted earlier, before this big brute so rudely interrupted us. Now that he is taken care of, we shall be married and live happily ever after. Or should I say, I'll live happily ever after. You my

190

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

dear, must pay for all the trouble you've caused me this night. But I believe that after a few years of slavish devotion, I shall be inclined to forgive you. Now, please, let's get you dressed in something warm and..." Kathleen didn't wait to hear anymore. She took one last look at the figure on the bed, wondering if she were imagining it or if she actually did see his chest rise and fall. Then she turned and bolted for the door, sure that Robert would follow her. She was the one he wanted. She was the one who had brought all this trouble down upon them. She would lead him away from Giles so that he couldn't be hurt anymore. She reached the door, realizing that Robert had left it cracked behind him, and yanked it open and fled down the wide corridor without a thought as to where she was heading, knowing only she must make haste. Robert was close upon her heels, his hand reaching out to brush against her hair, leaving her no choice but to run as fast as she could. The door at the end of the hall that usually stood closed was opened. She hurtled through it, trying to close it behind her and slow him down just a small bit. But he slammed it back open and she heard it hit the wall, bouncing back to catch him in the shoulder as he barreled through. His roar of pain was loud and intense, scaring Kathleen far more than she'd been scared before. He had the sound of a bear that'd been shot and was now only more dangerous than before. This hallway wasn't long but there was another door at the end which also stood open, baring a curved staircase that only went up. What could she do? She ran through the door, slamming it closed behind her, and flew up the stairs, hoping that at the top she would find some sort of weapon that could save her from Robert's maniacal grip. The small door at the top stood open and Kathleen ran inside, stopping to stare in horror at the tower room, the same as the one she dreamt about. It was dirty and cold, a draft blowing cold air across her bare skin making her realize that she was naked. Old gowns lay upon the floor and she grabbed one up, shaking it hastily and slipping it over her head before going to peek out the door and check the stairs for any signs of Robert. His voice reached her first. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he called, his voice jovial. "I've played in this castle with Matthew and his sisters since I could first walk, Kathleen. You have nowhere to go but out the Lady's window to share the same fate that she met. She was quite crazy, you know. Her husband left her here, in this castle for month after month with servants that he paid not to talk to her. He took her only child

191

WENDY STONE

from her, sent him to boarding schools abroad so that she couldn't see him or talk to him. And then he flaunted his young, blonde mistress in front of her." Kathleen stared around the room, terrified out of her mind. She had to find a place to hide. But the room was sparsely furnished, a bed and a broken wardrobe, a wiggly chair and a small table being all it offered. She could hear his footsteps getting closer, even as his words continued. "His mistress was married. She was the wife of a common farmer, a young girl who had aspired for more before her father had accepted the farmer's betrothal contract. She'd thought her beauty would get her far and hated that she was only a farmer's wife. So she started whoring around for the lords in the area, gaining trinkets and favors. Of course, her stupid husband knew nothing of these things. He was too blinded by her false beauty to see the ugliness that she held inside of her." Robert was enjoying himself. The sound of his voice echoed on the stairs and he knew she could hear his words. This was the first he'd revealed any of this, any of his secret to anyone else. For it was a shameful one, one that would be better left unspoken. "The farmer, though, was an industrious fellow and began climbing his way up the ladder of society. He made money, more money that could be believed for such a simple farmer. It was almost as if he had the Midas touch, turning everything into gold. He increased his holdings until he was land-rich, then set about to become rich in the ways of gold as well. During this time, he had two sons with his lovely wife. The oldest was dark haired, his eyes the blue of the clear sky after a spring rain. The youngest was blonde and stoutly built, the spitting image of his father, with muddy brown eyes." He paused, coming around the last of the stairs and seeing her standing in the open doorway, her eyes wide with fright, and her face pale and drawn, an ancient gown covering the soft curves he couldn't wait to get his hands on again. "It's so wonderful to see you again, Kathleen," he said to her, almost as if this were an afternoon visit for tea. "I really hated that we were so rudely interrupted on our little trip. This time, though, we shan't be. I am going to set fire to the castle, then no one will even know you are gone, and by the time they do realize, they'll think you were lost in the blaze along with that guttersnipe Reversham. When we return, they will be so happy to see you alive, that all will be forgiven and then we can go on with our lives together."

192

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Kathleen stared at him, aghast and horrified. "You're crazy," she whispered. "You are completely mad. I would never willingly go with you." Robert continued speaking as if she hadn't said a word. "It is amazing, now that I think of it, that my great, great and so forth grandfather should be the same as Matthew's, though his son wasn't claimed as a Trent. You see, the blonde beauty that the Duke liked to parade in front of his insane wife, was the wife of that self same farmer, a man of no breeding who made his money with the sweat and toil of his back. She was my great, great," he waved his hand in front of his face, "something or other grandmother. Her first child was the result of her adulterous coupling with the Duke." He walked past her, making her flinch as if she thought he would reach out and grab her or worse. But instead he went to the window, his eyes focusing on the ground so far down below. And he finished his tale, almost as if he were talking to himself. "She had one entry in her diary about the day the duchess threw herself from this window. She'd been in the house, had her way with her married lover in the duchess's marital bed. She'd even laughed when the duke had forced his wife into the tower. They were shouting terrible, awful things, and she wrote down all of them. And then, as the duke was leaving, they heard the noise of the glass breaking and the terrible sound of her screaming as she fell from the tower window." He patted the glass. "This window, here, and she landed down there." He stared back at her, smiling suddenly and chillingly. Striding toward her, he grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to the window, forcing her between the icy pane of glass and his hard body. "Down there," he said, pushing her head against the glass. "Can you imagine how it must have felt? The first jolt of the glass breaking around you, then nothing but air and that terrible feeling of falling, before you turn and see the ground coming up toward you and then," he slammed his hand against the glass hard, startling her so she jumped. "Nothing..." "You aren't scaring me, Robert," she said though her voice betrayed her and shook. She put her hands up on the window and tried to push backwards, but he held her there easily, his hand coming up to gather a handful of her blonde curls to use to keep her still. "No?" he sighed. "Then I suppose I shall just have to do something that will." He pulled her head back suddenly and then snapped it forward

193

WENDY STONE

against the glass, splintering the glass under her forehead with a loud crash. Kathleen's head was filled with pain, her eyes closing against the terrible view. Lightning flashed outside the tower room windows, creating a landscape done in bright blue/white light. It hurt her head even with her eyes shut. But Robert wasn't finished yet, oh no, not by a long shot. "You see, my dear. If life had been fair in any way, then I should have been the one with the title and the castle. I should have been the one to enjoy the easy life instead of being at my mother's beck and call. I should be in that huge ancestral bed, working to breed an heir from that whore, Lara. But no, my grandfather was left for the farmer to raise, left to work the land and reap the fruit of hard work," his voice taking on a decidedly sarcastic tone. "Y-you're insane," Kathleen whispered, the bump on her head bleeding, a trickling stream spreading down the side of her face. "No, my dear. Insanity would be in believing this nonsense that the Lady's ghost haunts this castle. That she waits for the day that her revenge can be taken, for only then could she find the rest that she sorely deserves." Robert smirked as he said the last. "Kathleen!" Kathleen's head lifted as she heard the sound of Giles' voice. "Giles!" she screamed before he could stop her. "In the tower," she managed to get out before his hand came up to muffle her cry. With an oath, Robert twirled her away from him, watching as she landed heavily against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs. He ran to the door, glancing out, his hand going to his pocket and pulling out something that Kathleen couldn't see. When he stepped away, his back going to the wall next to the door to wait for Giles to enter the room, she saw a glint of metal extending from his hand. If she'd been able to scream, she could have warned Giles that Robert had a pistol, but she was fighting for every breath her laboring lungs could gather. **** Lara couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, all she could do was feel the soaring sensations caused by Matthew's tongue and mouth against her wet sex. Her body writhed against his hand, trying to force him harder against herself, but he was having none of it. He held her down, his lips nibbling at the fine, hard knot of her clit.

194

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

He'd worked her to orgasm like this once already, her body taut and sensitive, seeming to churn endlessly under him as he drove her back up again toward another erotic peak. Her hands went to his hair, pulling him closer, begging with whimpered pleas to be released from the torturous pleasure he inspired in her so easily. Taking her almost to the peak, he slid his big body up along the sleek softness of hers, finding his home between her thighs with a heartfelt groan as he pushed his hard cock into the softness of her cunt. She stretched around his girth, bathing him in sweet, wet velvet that gripped him like hot fingers, her muscles fluttering as he staked his claim inside of her. His mouth found the taut tip of her nipple, drawing it into his heat, holding himself from her body with his arms so that the only place they touched was at breast and groin. Then he began to move. Long sweeping strokes, thrusts that pounded her flesh with sensual pleasure, short jabs that ground against her, pressing into her with friction that sent each of them climbing higher. Her fingernails found the skin of his back, leaving trails of red welts as she clung to him, trying desperately to assuage this inferno that he set blazing between her thighs. Her whimpers and cries melded with his grunts of pleasure as they fucked, one thought only in Matthew's lust driven mind, to spill his seed inside this woman, to claim her again as his own in the most primal of ways. He drove his cock into her, his body tight, his face a grimace of pain filled pleasure, anxious to feel the familiar tightening of her cunt around him that heralded the beginning of her orgasm. Lara's hands moved over his plunging butt, feeling the hard muscles flex as he worked above her. She cupped them, squeezing them, hearing him groan. She could hear his voice, raspy and harsh as he said things to her, dark things that speared her passions, erotic things that fueled her lust, driving her further up that lofty peak of ecstasy. The coil in her belly grew tighter, stronger, as he thrust into her until it suddenly burst, sending burning rainbows of bliss flowing over her in hot colored waves of ecstasy that made her head spin with joy. She grabbed his shoulders, knowing him as the only safe anchor in the waves that threatened to take her sliding into blackness. Even half blind from pleasure, she felt that wonderful jump his body gave when he too found nirvana, her arms sliding around him as he collapsed onto her limp body, with the only muscles moving being the

195

WENDY STONE

ones milking his hard cock of its hot, creamy seed. His breathing was harsh, his face pressed into the pillow near her ear. Lara lay under him, wondering if she were dead. Nothing could feel like this, nothing could cause her body to go through this sort of pleasure unless she were in heaven. She heard his husky chuckle in her ear and realized she'd spoken aloud. Matthew raised his head, pushing her hair from her beautiful face with gentle hands. "I know that I'm talented, my dear. But I've never fucked anyone to death." Lara pushed him off of herself, rolling with him so that she was nestled on top of his big body. "Dolt," she accused, though there was little heat to her tone, so pleased was she to be with him once more. "I can't believe how incredibly romantic you are," she said, lifting her chin to place it on her hands that were crossed just under his collarbone. "I thought married couples made love." "Oh, Lara my love, we'll do that too, but I don't think you can call what we just did as tame as making love, do you?" "Mmm," she agreed. "All I kept thinking was how I wanted you to brand me as your own. Well," she said, her amber eyes twinkling in the light of the fire as she amended, "that is when I actually could think." "Damn me, but you're good for my ego, love." He ran his hands down her back, his palms running over the curve of her butt and then back up, loving the smooth feel of her, the warmth of her skin, the joy of knowing that she was safe. "But I will admit to a bit of wanting to stake a claim myself. I just had to wipe the memory of what that bastard did from your skin." "He never actually touched me, Matthew. He was too focused upon Kathleen to notice my less sterling charms," she said, giggling when he lifted his head from the pillow and quirked one black brow at her. "Well, yes, I guess I can see that," he laughed when she reached out and pinched his arm, yanking her back when she tried to move away from him. "Come now, love, you must admit your sister is quite beautiful." He laughed again when she started to pout, rolling her over to nuzzle against her cheek. "But she couldn't hold a candle to you, love. You outshine any woman in my eyes." Lara smiled, lifting her arms to wrap them around his strong neck. Her lips parted to speak but what she was to have said was interrupted as a scream sounded, echoing through the corridor outside.

196

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

Matthew was up and grabbing his dressing gown in a flash, reaching into the top of a drawer in his desk and pulling out a pistol. Lara was up and also reaching for her gown when he wheeled back to her, almost out the door. "You," he said, pointing at her, "stay in that bed where I know you'll be safe." Then he was out the door. "Not bloody likely," Lara grumbled, dragging her gown over her shoulders and belting it around her waist. "She's my sister." She grabbed a candle from the mantle, lighting it quickly and then followed Matthew out the door just in time to see him heading down the old hallway that ended at the stairs to the tower. Hurrying after him, she ran through the open door and into the old part of the castle, her toes shrinking from the icy floors as she ran down the hall. She saw him start up the stairs and rushed after him, feeling the creepy eeriness of the old tower pressing around her. Matthew gasped as her hand came out and grabbed his gown, spinning and bringing his pistol up at the same time. He cursed, his voice barely above a whisper, when he saw her. "I could have shot you," he growled. "Yes, but you didn't, so stop grinding your teeth over it," she said quietly. "Is Kathleen up there?" "Yes, and someone else also. I didn't see who it was, only caught a glimpse of shadow. Now, turn your ass around and go put it back to bed so that I can go see what's going on." "Nothing is going to happen to my ass, Matthew, so you might as well just get over it now." She grabbed his arm, sighing when he refused to move. "Oh, come now, Matthew. Quit being so...so bloody staid. She's my sister." From above them came the sound of a struggle and Matthew sighed. "Fine, puss, but you and I are going to talk about this obedience thing when this is over." "Whatever you say, love. Come on," she urged, grabbing his arm and dragging him up the stairs. **** Kathleen stared around the room, her eyes finally landing on the small table next to the battered old chair. She needed a weapon, something she could use to keep Robert busy so that Giles could get here and rescue her. She picked up the table. It wasn't very heavy, but hopefully she wouldn't need it for long.

197

WENDY STONE

With the table in hand, she crept to where Robert stood, his back to her as he stared down the stairs to where he knew Giles was. She tried to be quiet and stealthy but her foot slid on a pile of satin material and she screamed, falling backward and onto what was left of the old mattress on the bed. Robert turned his head, staring at her as if he'd forgotten she was there. He glanced down at the table she held in her hand and then in her eyes. "Bitch," he growled, walking toward her, easily knocking the table from her shaking hands. He raised his hand, slapping her hard enough to cause her to fall back on the bed, her hand coming to her welted cheek, feeling the flesh turn hot from his blow. An enraged growl sounded from behind him and he turned, bringing his pistol up, only to have it knocked away as Giles blocked his arm, following that with an iron hard fist to the stomach and then one to his chin. Robert went down, crashing through the chair and onto the floor and didn't move. Giles turned, the anger leaving his face as he went to his lady. His hand rose, gently touching the bruise that was already forming on her face from Robert's blow. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, looking into her blue eyes and allowing her to see all the love he felt. Kathleen nodded, her hand coming up to touch the bump that was forming on his head. "You're hurt," she said, rising from the bed to push him down on the thin mattress and then parting his thick hair to see the extent of the damage Robert's club had done. "A lucky blow," Giles said, scoffing over the pain as she clucked over him, leaning down to softly kiss the bump. "Ahh, but it is painful, love. Perhaps if you were to kiss, hmmm maybe five inches down further?" He lifted his lips, finding hers gently, and letting his lips cling. "Well, hell, get me out of bed on a cold night and you've already had all the fun," Matthew's voice broke their kiss, the disappointment in his voice causing both of them to laugh. "I'm so sorry, your grace," Giles said, bowing his head mockingly. "Perhaps next time, I'll stay in bed and you can get your head bashed." "But you got to hit that bounder, damn me. I wanted to do that," Matthew said, his smile belying the whine he put in his tone. Lara rolled her eyes. "Men," she said as if that one word encompassed all their faults. "Are you all right, Lynnie?" she asked Kathleen, coming over to touch the welt on her sister's cheek.

198

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

"Right as rain," the pretty blonde said. "Though I would like to get him back in his bed." She blushed when the men chuckled and she realized how she sounded. "I meant to tend to the bump on his head," she hurriedly added. "And the bump on your own as well," Lara said, pushing Kathleen's light locks back from her forehead and showing Giles the bloody bruise that had been hidden. Kathleen was about to scoff at the wound when she felt an arm come around her waist, pulling her backwards against a hard chest and a cold piece of metal that pushed against her throat. "We are getting out of here," Robert said, wiping the blood from his mouth on the back of Kathleen's head. "Nice and slow," he said to Matthew. "Put the pistol down, and back away from the door." "You aren't leaving here with her," Giles growled, his hands curving into fists. "And who is going to stop me? You?" Robert asked, laughing. "You move and I will slice her throat." "You won't get away, Robert. We'll hunt you down. There is no place far enough away for you to hide from us." Matthew put the pistol on the ground, backing away with it slowly, his hands held up and away from his body. "Pick up the pistol, girl," Robert said, motioning to Lara. "Pick it up and put it in my pocket. Remember," he warned, "you move the wrong way and you won't have to measure your sister for her gown for your wedding. "Don't hurt her," Lara begged, bending to pick up the pistol and sliding it into Robert's pocket. "Please, we'll let you go, just let Kathleen go and no one will try to stop you from leaving here." "Ha, like I could believe that. Come on," he jerked Kathleen, the knife nicking her again. "I wish to make Gretna Green before luncheon." "You're mad," Kathleen sneered. Matthew lifted his head, feeling an icy chill around his bare ankles. It grew until he saw Lara shiver with the cold. With a loud whoosh and a bright flash of lightning, a cackle of laughter started low, growing until it seemed almost too loud to bear. The witch ghost appeared from nowhere, her eyes locked upon Robert's bedraggled form. They burned with the red flames of her hatred. "You look like him," she hissed. "You look just like him."

199

WENDY STONE

Robert's hand came down, the knife shuddering as his eyes stared at the specter in front of him, the space where the semi-translucent figure of a woman stood. Her hand rose, her finger pointing at him, her eyes blazing. "You are from him, from him and that slut he took to our bed. You are part of the reason I was locked into the tower, why he turned from me. She had but to twitch her skirts and his eyes followed her like she was some bitch in heat." Her voice rose and as it did so did the icy wind that had started to blow through the room. Giles tried to rise from the bed but the wind was holding him down. "Kathleen!" he yelled over the sound of the wind. "Kathleen, get away from her," he shouted. "I...I can't," she cried, Robert's arm holding her tightly against him, no longer a shield from the two men, now a shield from the ghostly apparition who was slowly pushing him backwards toward the window. "Get away from me," he screamed, slashing out with his knife at the woman. He shrieked when his arm passed through her. "What are you? What the bloody hell are you?" "Your mother stole him from me. When I found out and said I was leaving, he sent me to the tower. He took my child from me, allowed no one to talk to me and locked me in this room. He is the one responsible for my death, and through their joining, you became the reason. You kept me here. You drove me insane." She shrieked, her head thrown back, her hair flying around her face wildly. She lifted her hands, throwing them in front of her as if she were pushing him. And Robert flew backwards; his back hitting the window that had been weakened earlier when he'd pushed Kathleen against it. It shattered under his weight and he felt himself falling into space, his hand still wrapped around Kathleen's arm. Giles had felt the force of the witch weaken as her attention was on Robert. He pushed against it, pushed hard and managed to get to his feet. "No," he had whispered, seeing Robert backing toward the window, his hand still wrapped securely around Kathleen. He knew what was to happen; he could feel the horror of it already in his mind and in his heart. He heard the ghost as if she were muffled, his eyes on Kathleen, his senses filled with the woman that he loved. With a shout, he rushed forward just as Robert hit the window, falling through it, his hand dragging Kathleen with him as she screamed in terror.

200

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

And then he had her hand in his, staring down at her through the window as he fought gravity and the weight of Robert and Kathleen to bring his love back to him. Robert was screaming in fear, his eyes wide as he stared at the ground a killing distance away. Kathleen shrieked as her arms were pulled with a force that caused shooting pains to go through both. Giles fought to hold her, digging in his feet and using both hands on the wrist that he'd managed to grab as she fell. He heard Matthew next to him, breaking out the other glass with the rotten wood of the chair, reaching down to grab for Robert, to drag him off of Kathleen so that Giles could pull her up. "Reach for me, Robert. Damn you, man, reach for me," he shouted, leaning far out the window, feeling Lara come and wrap her arms around his waist, to put her own weight into holding him inside. Robert looked up at Matthew, and for one moment the insanity that had been in his eyes was gone. He was the man he'd been years ago, before causing the accident that killed Matthew's best friend, Jeremy. "I...I'm sorry," he mouthed, dropping the knife that was in his other hand and reaching up for Matthew's arm. The witch's face, her eyes flashing, her mouth opened and screeching, flew out the window, rushing over Kathleen's body, enveloping Robert's form. Kathleen felt a tug on her arm, and then Robert's weight was gone. But his scream remained as he fell, only to be cut off abruptly as his body hit the hard ground, staining the snow around him with blood and gore. Giles cursed, drawing Kathleen easily back through the window now that it was just her slight weight and dragging her into his arms. "Oh, God," he whispered over and over into her hair. "It's over, he's gone." Matthew stared down at the body of the man he'd hated for so long, blaming him for Jeremy's death. He felt no anger now, only pity for a man who had had so much but had longed for more. He pulled himself back into the room, turning and pulling Lara into his arms, holding her close as the icy air in the tower warmed to the frigid temperature that was pouring in through the broken windows. Giles picked Kathleen up in his arms, carrying her down the long stairs without looking back, followed by Lara and Matthew.

201

WENDY STONE

Epilogue Robert's body was given a burial befitting one of his station. Neither Matthew nor Giles attended the function, but Lady Emily did, for her friend was heartbroken over the loss of her son. As soon as the funeral was over, Mirabelle Denton left for the small estate she had that was close to the Dover coast, determined to spend the rest of her days there. Matthew and Lara were married, a huge event with all the trimmings. Lara was a beautiful bride in a pale pink gown, a small tiara upon her head. They stayed at the castle long enough for Kathleen and Giles to be married in a small service in the family chapel. Kathleen, her face still bruised, looked radiant as she married the man of her dreams. Giles seemed uncomfortable in his fancy new togs but beamed down at her, his eyes for no one but her. Mirabelle, the last of the Dentons, pressed the title to the manor house and its surrounding lands into Giles hand as a wedding present. When she passed on a few years later, he was further surprised to find out that she had bequeathed to him the rest of her properties, leaving a letter to explain why. He read the letter to his wife, who was large with their third child, his big hand resting atop the mound of her stomach, feeling the baby stir and move inside of her. Mirabelle had blamed herself for her son's problems, and to give to him these lands was her way of easing her conscience. The ghost was never heard from again. But that could be due to the fact that Matthew locked the tower room door, nailing the door below shut so that no one else could ascend into the tower. Some nights still saw the strange storms that seemed to center on that tower, the flashing blue-white lightning that illuminated the room and the lady in white who sat in her chair, waiting for her husband to come back to her.

202

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

About the Author Wendy Stone only recently began her writing career. A small town girl with a Master's degree from the School of Hard Knocks, Wendy started writing as a way to combat boredom and keep from gaining dress sizes after an accident to her back kept her from working. No one was more surprised than she when people actually enjoyed what she wrote. Writing as Daniellekitten, Wendy has won many awards for her writing, including Most Influential Writer in 2005 through Literotica.com as well as Most Literary—Genre Transcending. She's been nominated for many of the Reader's Choice awards as well as the Monthly awards at the same website. Wendy Stone resides in a small Michigan town, spending most of her time writing as well as enjoying time spent with her animals and the company of her family.

203

WENDY STONE

What's Your Pleasure?

GET YOURS AT www.Phaze.com!

204

A GAMBLE WORTH TAKING

The hottest romance, the most memorable heroines, and the most gorgeous heroes… Welcome to the next PHAZE in erotic romance! Join us online for author chats, writing workshops, and big prize contests with our FREE newsletter!

www.phaze.com groups.yahoo.com/group/PhazeChatters phazebooks.ning.com (new forum!) eBooks available at Fictionwise.com, CyberRead.com, and AllRomanceeBooks.com, Print titles available at Amazon.com, BN.com, and BooksAMillion.com!

205