Regency High Society Vol 2: Sparhawk's Lady / The Earl's Intended Wife / Lord Calthorpe's Promise / The Society Catch. Miranda Jarrett

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СКАЧАТЬ her new bride’s ploy, but there was one last, desperate gamble she still could try.

      “You speak of your duty, and what his majesty expects,” she said breathlessly, “but not even the king himself would expect my husband to serve as a mariner after what he has suffered at the hands of the Turks!”

      With Jeremiah’s hands pinioned behind his back, his coat was open over his shirtfront. Her hands trembling from her own audacity, Caro yanked his shirt clear of the waistband of his breeches and lifted the linen high over his bare chest. Gasps of horror filled the room as the light from the fire danced over the long, livid scar that sliced across Jeremiah’s body. It was worse than Caro remembered, far worse, but it was also testimony that no one would ever question.

      “God’s shame on you if you take that poor lad!” called a woman near the back, and her cry was echoed over and over by the others. Caro let the shirt slip from her fingers, but left her hand resting lightly on Jeremiah’s chest. She could only guess what her dramatic gesture had cost him, and she prayed he’d understand.

      The lieutenant stiffened with displeasure and defeat. He waved curtly to the others, who jerked the ties from Jeremiah’s wrists and tossed his guns and knives onto the table beside him. They pulled the two marines to their unsteady feet and, without another word among them, retreated out the door and into the street, followed by jeers and catcalls and a thrown heel of bread.

      The tavern owner rushed over to Jeremiah. “God keep you, Cap’n, and whatever you wish tonight is my gift to you.” He winked broadly and cocked his thumb toward Caro. “‘Tis not every night a man outwits the press and gains a clever bride like this one, eh? Whatever you wish, Cap’n, but name your fancy and it’s yours.”

      “Thank you, no.” His expression grim, Jeremiah stepped clear of Caro, leaving her to stand with her hand awkwardly in midair. She swallowed hard and tucked her hand beneath her other arm. He hadn’t understood what she’d done; he couldn’t make it any more apparent, not to her or anyone else in the room.

      He shoved his shirttail back into his breeches and hooked the pistols back on his belt. “Though I appreciate your hospitality, sir, I must needs have a word with my wife in private.”

      He grabbed Caro by the elbow and ushered her roughly out the door. She tried to pull free but he held her fast, half-dragging her across the courtyard and past a curious stable boy at the pump. To her surprise the sky was beginning to pale with dawn. Was it really only last evening that he’d come for her at George’s?

      “You shouldn’t be angry with me,” she began, breathless at the pace he’d set. Her hat slipped from her head and though she grabbed for it he jerked her relentlessly onward, leaving the crumpled rose facedown in the dust. “If you’d only stop and consider—”

      “Nay, ma’am, I shall not. Not here, not now. You’ve entertained the world enough tonight.”

      He pulled her into the open door of the tavern’s small stable and back among the stalls. Beneath the single lantern the space was warm with the heat of the close-packed horses’ bodies, the air thick with their smell.

      “At least these beasts won’t repeat what they hear or see, which is more than can be said of your last audience.” With a last little shake Jeremiah released Caro’s arm and she backed away, glaring at him as she rubbed her arm where he’d held it. “What the hell was all that about, anyway? Have you lost what few wits you possess?”

      “I did what I judged best under the circumstances.” Around them the horses shifted and nickered uneasily, made restive by the unchecked emotions in the human voices. “And don’t you dare call me witless!”

      “I’ll call you whatever I damned well please! Why did you decide I needed a wife?”

      He took another step toward her, trapping her in the corner with his body. She could feel his anger like a force between them, a white-hot violence barely contained, and any other time she would have been terrified of him. But her own furious resentment blinded her, and she lifted her chin defensively.

      “I thought being married would make the lieutenant pity us, and he’d let you go. I saw it once in a play, though of course the hero was a Scottish laird, and—”

      “A play?” He stared at her, appalled that she would even admit such a thing. “All that ‘darling husband’ claptrap was from some damned play?”

      “It worked, didn’t it?” she said stubbornly.

      “Listen to me! They would have kept me at the press house for an hour or two at most, then let me go!”

      “You trusted them too much! This is England, not America!”

      “Oh, aye, my fine Lady Byfield, as if I’d forgotten! I don’t need you to tell me that. I don’t need you for anything!”

      “Don’t you go making any of this my fault!” She felt tears smarting behind her eyes and she didn’t know why. “You’re not being fair. You were the one who forced your way into George’s house to rescue me. All I did was try to return the favor, and now you’re free.”

      “I’ll never be free, you damned selfish bitch!” Tormented by a pain she couldn’t understand, he slammed his fist into the post beside her. “You claim fair play. You turned my private life into a penny curiosity. What of you, eh? What if I took you back in there before the others and told them all your shame, your sins? Would that be fair?”

      “You wouldn’t dare.” She shook her head wildly. “You can’t!”

      He tore the kerchief from her bodice, and with a frightened gasp she pressed her hands over her neckline, striving to cover herself with her spread fingers. Instead he caught her wrists and pinned them high over her head, mercilessly forcing her back against the rough planks of the stall. She was painfully aware of how she stood trapped between the rough stable wall and the equally unyielding barrier that was Jeremiah Sparhawk.

      Yet her body sensed the difference between the two, her softness matching and melting against the lean, muscled planes of his, warm with the heat of his anger. It had been this way the one other time he’d held her in his arms, and she shivered with an anticipation she desperately wanted to suppress. Long, long ago her mother had told her of such feelings between men and women, and their inevitable result. No wonder Captain Sparhawk could taunt her about her sin and shame when her body betrayed her like this!

      When he bent his head over hers, she knew he meant to kiss her, just as she knew too late how wrong she’d been to trust him. By trusting him she had made herself vulnerable. She squeezed her eyes shut, the last defense she had.

      “I thought you were different,” she whispered rapidly, her voice barely containing her tears of fear and disappointment. “When I saw that scar and guessed what you had suffered, I thought you were the only man who could help me, the one who had fought Hamil Al-Almeer and survived. I believed you were strong and brave, but I was wrong, wasn’t I? I was wrong! You’re a coward, just like you fear. A coward!’

      She felt him go still, his ragged breathing matching hers, the only sound between them. Though by infinitesimal degrees his grip on her wrists relaxed, she kept her eyes closed, both unsure of what he’d do next and unwilling to break the strange spell between them.

      Gently his fingers caressed the narrow bones of her wrists, his thumbs sliding along the inside of her upstretched arms as he traced the pale blue veins that ran to her heart until, СКАЧАТЬ