Sea of Desire Page 16

  “Now, let’s don’t make this harder on ye. Come on out.”

  Jared could hear her ragged breathing... or was it his own? At any rate, he reached down and squeezed her knee. A gesture of hope? Or despair?

  The handle jiggled.

  “I’m through playin’ games, yer Ladyship.”

  The door opened. The highwayman stuck his gun inside the coach and Merideth screamed. In the same instant, Jared chopped his fist down hard over the assailant’s hand. The pistol clattered to the coach floor, and the highwayman looked up at Jared with a shocked expression. Then he turned and fled.

  Jared leaped from the coach. It took him little time to overtake the lumbering outlaw. Jared grabbed him from behind as the man headed into the woods. He jerked him around, knocking away the man’s hands when he tried to protect himself.

  “What in the hell is going on here?” Jared demanded. “What did you want with Lady Merideth?” When he didn’t answer immediately, Jared shook the man like a rat terrier would its prey.

  “I ain’t got nothin’ against her meself. It was him that hired me to kill her that does.”

  “To kill her?” Jared tried to control his anger. “Who? Who hired you? Tell me or I’ll tear you limb from limb with my bare hands.” Jared jerked the trembling man forward by the front of his jacket, ready to do just that. He saw the slobbery mouth quiver... open to speak.

  And then a shot rang through the forest.

  Chapter Eleven

  The highwayman’s body jerked, then went limp. All that held him upright were Jared’s hands grasping his bloodstained jacket. When Jared let go, the body slumped to the ground. Stunned, Jared crouched down beside him, peering through the darkness for any sign of who had fired the shot. The only light, thrown off by the coach lanterns, was behind, silhouetting him. Before him was darkness and shadows.

  He waited, listening intently, the beat of his heart pounding in his ears. Then from the rear he heard the rustle of leaves. Shifting, Jared followed the sound of the footsteps coming ever closer. When they were almost upon him he turned and sprang, flattening the intruder beneath his body.

  He heard a squeal and froze.

  “What in the hell are you doing sneaking around?” he whispered, lifting his head just enough to recognize Merideth’s face.

  “I wanted to see what happened. I heard a shot.”

  “Aye, you heard a shot. And ‘tis lucky you didn’t take a musket ball yourself.”

  “I also brought you the highwayman’s pistol,” Merideth pointed out, not surprised when the captain quickly grabbed for the gun.

  “Stay here,” was all he said as he rose to a crouch. But before he could move into the shadows, the clip-clop of horses riding off came from the woods. Jared stood, and ran a few paces toward the sound, stopping when the hoofbeats faded.

  “I think they’re gone.”

  “Who?” Merideth rolled over to get up. “Who’s gone? What hap—” Her breath caught and she let out a shriek. Before Jared could reach her, Merideth was on her feet, backing away from the body sprawled on the ground.

  “The highwayman,” Jared said, answering her silent inquiry.

  “Is he...?”

  “Dead?” Bending down, Jared held his hand over the man’s chest. “Aye.” He paused. “He was shot.”

  “Shot? But you didn’t have a pistol.”

  “I didn’t shoot him.”

  “But how did he...?”

  Jared shook his head in the direction of the woods. “It appears one of his fellow highwaymen did the job.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  Jared hesitated only a moment. “I don’t know.” Now was not the time to tell her what the assailant had said before he’d died—before someone had stopped him from saying more. “Let’s get out of here.” Jared turned Merideth away from her study of the body. She was trembling when he touched her shoulder.

  “Shouldn’t we...? We can’t just leave him here.”

  “I’ll send someone back to handle it.” His arm draped around her. “Let’s see if we can find the driver.”

  “He’s on the other side of the coach,” Merideth said, but she held back, her attention uncontrollably drawn to the dark heap on the side of the road. Another murdered man. Before she’d met Captain Blackstone, the only dead people she’d ever seen were victims of age and disease.

  But since that night Jared Blackstone blew in with the storm, there seemed no end to the violence she witnessed—blank-eyed stares, chests abloom with crimson...

  “Come on, Merideth.” Jared nudged her toward the coach and she started moving. He found the driver propped against a wheel, his knees pulled up and his head cradled in his palms. There was a knot on the side of his head and blood matted on his powdered wig, but he was able to stand. With help from Merideth, Jared settled him inside the coach. “You ride with him,” Jared ordered. “I’ll drive the coach.”

  Outside of admitting to a terrible ache above his ear, the driver had little to say as they jostled along the road toward Passy. Once in the village, Jared steered the horses to the Hôtel de Valentinois.

  “We’ve a hurt man,” Merideth heard Captain Blackstone announce as servants came toward the carriage. But she didn’t stay to hear what else went on. Nearly unnoticed, she slipped from the carriage and through the front door. Once inside she sought out her room, stopping only once to assure Will that nothing was amiss. He’d wandered into the hallway in his nightshirt and stocking feet, rubbing at his eyes. With very little persuasion he returned to his room.

  Merideth envied him his innocence as she closed her bedroom door behind her. Her bottom lip quivered as it had threatened to do all evening—at least since her encounter with Captain Blackstone. But she didn’t let herself surrender to tears.

  How long she stood there, clutching the back of a brocaded chair, Merideth didn’t know. She tried to block what had happened from her thoughts, but flashes of memory seared through her mind.

  The moment of fear when the highwayman aimed the pistol at her. The blank expression in his lifeless eyes. And always the captain. She could no more forget him, forget the dark passion of his touch, than she could shy away from the other realities.

  The bedroom door opened and Merideth turned, not in the least surprised to see Jared Blackstone standing there. He paused for a moment, his form filling the entryway, then entered the room, closing the door behind him.

  “I’ve sent word to the authorities.”

  Merideth merely nodded, wishing he would speak no more of it. He seemed to understand her reluctance, for his expression grew serious. Striding to the window, he pushed aside the heavy silk drapes before asking, “Why would anyone want you dead?”

  “Dead?” Merideth couldn’t help being taken aback by his question. “I... I... That’s preposterous. No one wants me dead.”

  For long moments, during which Merideth forgot to breathe, he stared at her, his sea-green eyes searching. Then he shrugged, seemingly accepting her contention. Without another word he advanced on her, his pace steady. Merideth retreated one step, then—when she saw the unbridled passion in his expression—another. The chair separated them, but he skirted it easily, grabbing her shoulders when she turned to reach for the door.

  “Don’t. I don’t want you to—” He silenced the remainder of her denial with his lips, pressing them firmly to hers. Her halfhearted attempts to push him away proved futile. His body engulfed her... he engulfed her. His smell, his taste, the feel of his work-roughened hands on her skin, proved as tantalizing as before.

  This, this is why she’d allowed him to touch her in the coach, the answer to the question that nagged at her. She simply couldn’t help herself. Even now, as the feel of his fingers unfastening her gown sent warnings to her mind, she couldn’t resist him.

  Her hands tangled in the rough silk of his hair, loosening the black ribbon and freeing the raven locks. His head dipped to her throat and he nudged aside her gold locket, wetting the small
hollow of skin beneath with his tongue. Merideth’s pulse raced, her body arched, and the craving intensified.

  When the silvery-blue silk slipped from her shoulders, Merideth felt no remorse. His gaze raked her, sweeping over the distended nipples that pressed against the fine linen of her shift. His fingers spread, covering her upper chest, pushing aside the fabric. When his thumbs scraped over the sensitive nubs, Merideth moaned a siren song of surrender.

  “You like that.” There was no question in his voice, nothing but a simple declaration of fact, as his thumbs circled, then whisked across, her flesh.

  She should protest. Deep in the recesses of her mind, Merideth knew no good could come from this. She stood, clutching his broad shoulders while he caressed her. He, fully dressed in his black waistcoat, the untamed fall of raven hair and dark, heavy-lidded eyes the only break from his civilized attire. While she displayed herself for him, her breasts bared, begging for his touch, her curls a tangle across her naked shoulders.

  But objecting was beyond her. All she could do was acquiesce. His mouth replaced the gentle rub of his thumb, the moist heat making her knees tremble and the ache deep inside grow stronger.

  With practiced hands the corset ties came undone, freeing even more of her flesh to his touch, his mouth. The gown drifted to the carpeted floor on a whisper of silk, followed by the shift and petticoats.

  When she stood before him in nothing but clocked stockings and satin slippers, Jared skimmed his hands down over her hips. “You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice thick. Up and down, his fingers roamed over her satin-soft skin, brushing her ribs, then rounding to shape her buttocks.

  Merideth watched him, her eyes no more than blue slits, her breathing shallow. Everywhere he touched she burned.

  “I want you.” His hand filtered down her stomach and Merideth gasped as it tangled in the delta of tight curls. Her body quivered, tight as a bowstring, fraught with anticipation. She knew what he could do to her with just the touch of a finger. She longed for the release he had given her in the coach. But though she arched, inviting him to further exploration, he hesitated.

  Merideth tried to control her breathing, but it came in short gulps. She swallowed, poised... waiting... but still he didn’t move.

  “Touch me.” The words were softly spoken, and Merideth wasn’t certain she’d heard him until his hand closed over hers. Then he was guiding, filling her fingers with the rock-hard proof of his passion.

  His dark lashes drifted shut, closing off the primal vestige of desire. But Merideth had seen, and she gloried in it all the while her caress measured his length.

  The swoop of his mouth caught her by surprise, but she matched his ardor, matched the sensual dance of his tongue, as her fingers stretched to surround him.

  She was off her feet before she knew what he was about. The bed was high with a fanciful tester and gold brocaded hangings. He deposited her in the center, then turned to shuck off his waistcoat. His cravat followed, then his shirt.

  Merideth watched unabashedly as he yanked off his breeches and boots. He stood before her, splendid in his dark beauty, and she could do naught but reach for him. Taking her hand, Jared brushed his lips across her knuckles, then placed them, palms flat, on his chest while he reached for the ribbons holding her stockings.

  The dark pelt of hair enticed, curled around her fingers as Merideth slid them across his chest. She skimmed the hard nub of his breast and he sucked in air. His movements quickened, sweeping the white stockings over her toes and tossing them to the floor.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he said, and Merideth couldn’t agree more. She longed to have him touch her like he had earlier. Her body arched, but instead of the magic of before, he settled atop her.

  At first she found his weight an oddity, but then he kissed her and all but the most sensual of thoughts escaped her.

  Jared wanted to go slowly, to savor being with her to its fullest. From the first time he’d seen her he’d thought of this, of how her skin would feel, like warmed silk. And how the heat of her would drive him insane. When he’d seen her tonight, radiant in her finery, dancing, smiling, flirting, he’d been incensed. Other men knew what he’d only dreamed of.

  She was a traitor; at this moment he didn’t care. She had parlayed her body for secrets. But the only secret he knew was told him by the highwayman moments before he died. A secret he would tell her anyway. But not now.

  He’d reached the limits of his endurance.

  “Lift your legs.” Jared whispered his request, not surprised when she complied immediately. She was a passionate lover, free and giving with her favors. He sank into the cradle of her body, pressing against her heat. His first thrust penetrated but slightly, and Jared sucked in his breath at the pleasure that shot through him. Anxious to experience all the satisfaction she could offer, he pushed.

  And stopped cold.

  Resting his weight on his elbows, Jared tried again, his passion-drugged mind barely comprehending the barrier he felt. He’d been so certain she was an experienced courtesan, a seductress who traded her delectable body for a traitor’s secrets. But the proof that she wasn’t couldn’t be denied.

  “What... what is it?” Merideth knew there was something amiss, but she couldn’t imagine what she’d done wrong. But he stared at her, a strange expression darkening his handsome features. And his wonderful caresses had stopped. She wanted them to continue. Her body moved, seemingly of its own accord, and she felt the captain stiffen, but not before a sharp pain tore through her.

  “Oh.” Tears filled her eyes and she tried to blink them away. But one rolled down the side of her face. With the pad of his thumb, Jared brushed it away.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t. I mean, not really. I just didn’t expect...”

  “Nor did I.” Jared tried to pull away, but found her hands tighten on his shoulders.

  “What... what’s wrong?”

  “There’s nothing awry.” Jared lowered his head, a brush of lips to convince her of his words, but the contact lengthened, and heightened. Soon the probing of his tongue matched the thrust of his body. There was no more barrier, nothing but the smooth glide of flesh inside moist flesh.

  Instinct took over, and Jared basked in the heat they produced. She was so sensual, so willing, that he almost forgot the proof of her inexperience.

  Merideth clung to him, drowning in all the sensations he awakened in her. It was overpowering. He was overpowering. She rushed toward a precipice, a dark, almost frightening precipice. Something in her shied away, warned her that she shouldn’t explore. She should keep herself safe. But she knew, in her heart she knew, it was already too late for that.

  The waves of wonder hit her, tossing her toward the dark spiral, dissolving her control. Her breath came in shallow gasps and she cried out, unable to stop herself. It went on and on, this whirl through the darkness, till an explosion of bright lights shattered through her.

  The captain’s groan echoed in her ear as he collapsed, his body poker hot and searing. Merideth became vaguely aware that he had shifted some of his weight to his elbows, but she was too tired and replete to comment upon it. They seemed to float, surrounded by the feather softness of the down comforter.

  His voice was husky, his words tickled the fine hairs curling about her ear. “Are you all right?”

  Merideth didn’t remember ever being so all right. But she didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to think. The captain obviously wasn’t going to allow her that luxury. When she didn’t answer he shifted again, pulling away his marvelous weight and allowing the night chill to creep over her naked body.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Merideth thought she heard genuine concern in his voice, a novelty in itself. She had evoked many emotions in the captain since she’d met him, but concern was not one of them. Without knowing why, she found she liked the idea. “I’m fine. Perhaps a little tired.” Her las
t words were slurred by sleep as her lashes drifted shut.

  “That’s right. Just rest,” Jared whispered. He settled onto the mattress beside her, cradling her head against his shoulder. He was replete. He was comfortable. But he harbored no thoughts of slumber for himself.

  For an old man with gout, he could move rather quickly.

  Jared watched from the anteroom window as Dr. Franklin bustled from the carriage. His flannel hat sat askew on his head, and he used his walking stick to shoo servants from his path as he climbed the stone stairs leading to the front door.

  He was halfway across the marble great hall before Jared’s voice stopped him.

  “Ah, there you are, my boy.” Franklin motioned Jared to his side. “Where is she? Where is Lady Merideth? Did she come to any harm?”

  “Nay. She is safe, asleep in her bed.” Jared moved, blocking Franklin’s path when he started toward the stairs. “She is fine, I tell you. But we need to talk.”

  Jared watched as the worry left Franklin’s eyes, to be replaced by a shrewdness that belied his backwoods appearance.

  “I suppose you’re right. But not here,” Franklin said with a cursory look around the huge hall. “Follow me.”

  Franklin led them up the curved stairway and down a series of portrait-lined hallways. “Are you certain she wasn’t hurt? Word reached Madame d’Abbeville’s that your coach had been attacked by highwaymen, and I came rushing home.”

  “Because you suspected someone might harm her.” Jared’s statement elicited nothing but a straightforward stare from Franklin, so he reassured the older man again. “As I said, she is safely asleep in her room. A room for which I have the key.” Jared produced the brass key from his waistcoat. It shone dully in the candlelight as he held out his palm for Franklin to see.

  Jared wondered how Franklin might view his locking Lady Merideth in her room, but one look at the twinkling eyes and Jared knew better.

  “Good work, my boy. I knew you were the man for the job.” He opened a door and motioned Jared into a small, cluttered room. After lighting a candle from a sconce in the hallway, Franklin shut the door. He placed the candlestick on a drop-leaf table piled with stacks of parchment. Then he settled into a delicately wrought chair that creaked under his weight.