Rebellious Desire

  “Are you sorry for it?” Caroline asked with a smile.

  Bradford’s answer was to lift her onto his lap and show her just how unsorry he really was.

  Caroline had never seen Bradford’s townhouse and she found it quite comfortable. It was large and masculine, cluttered with heavy, old-fashioned, leathery furnishings that indicated male territory.

  The large canopy bed in Bradford’s room had thick drapes that were tied back during the day. Caroline tested the mattress while Bradford readied himself for dinner. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she untied both drapes. She was hidden from view but her throaty laugh told him she was enjoying herself. “It will be toasty in here,” she called out to him. “Nice and warm.”

  Bradford walked over to the bed and pulled the curtain aside. His bare chest glistened from his bath. Caroline smiled up at him and stretched out on the covers. She clasped her hands behind her head, imitating his habit, and gave him a slow, seductive wink.

  “Have you ever been cold in my bed?” Bradford demanded. His voice was laced with amusement, a mockery to the ferocious frown he displayed.

  Caroline was dressed only in a robe and one thigh was exposed for her husband’s view. Bradford’s gaze slowly traveled the distance between her head and her toes and when he was again looking into her eyes, the amusement was gone.

  “You entice me, Caroline,” Bradford said. His voice had taken on a gruff edge.

  “Is there time?” Caroline asked in a breathless whisper, a reaction to Bradford’s hungry look. She undid the tie to her belt with a bewitching smile that only intensified Bradford’s desire, struggled out of the confinement, and reached out for her husband.

  Bradford didn’t decline the invitation. He stripped out of the breeches he had just put on and stretched out beside his wife. Caroline waited for him to take her into his arms, and after a long minute she realized he waited for her to turn to him. She laughed, a joyful, uninhibited sound that brought a smile to Bradford’s face, and settled herself on top of Bradford.

  And then she began to weave her magical spell upon his body, transforming him from the controlled, disciplined Duke of Bradford into the wild warrior that lurked just beneath his skin.

  Bradford allowed the sweet agony until he felt himself ready to explode. His voice became harsh then with his demand that she put an end to his torment.

  Caroline ignored him and continued to drive him to the point of no return.

  Bradford let out a warrior’s cry and Caroline suddenly found herself flat on her back. “I will show no mercy,” he growled against the corner of her mouth. And then he began to pleasure-drug her until she was begging him to have done. He grimaced with satisfaction and the pain building inside his loins, pulled her back on top of him, and entered her with a deliberate thrust that ended all the teasing, all the enticing.

  Caroline threw her head back and emitted a low moan that Bradford answered with another and another thrust. They both found their release at the exact instant.

  Caroline felt as if she was in the center of the sky, with Bradford holding her safe. She slowly floated back to reality with a satisfied smile.

  Her head rested against Bradford’s chest and she listened to his heart beat against her own. She waited until his breathing had slowed and then whispered,

  “I love you.”

  It had become a ritual, telling him that she loved him as soon as they had finished their lovemaking, and as always, she waited to hear him say the words to her. She knew that she could demand it, and probably get her way, but she wanted the admission to come from Bradford’s heart.

  Bradford squeezed Caroline and sighed with satisfaction. It was his only acknowledgment that he had even heard her declaration, and Caroline once again accepted that he wasn’t ready yet.

  She forced the sadness out of her expression and propped herself up on her elbows to gaze into his eyes. “Let’s stay here the rest of the night.”

  “A notable suggestion,” Bradford answered with a grin. “But your family will probably demand an explanation. Will you tell them what kept us or shall I?”

  Caroline promptly blushed. “A gentleman wouldn’t talk about such things,” she said. “I suppose we better get dressed then.”

  She tried to move off of Bradford but he held her steady. “Not yet, Caroline. I think we should go over the arrangements one more time.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation. “I know them by heart, Bradford. I’m not to leave your side during the ball, not to run off anywhere with Charity, and if anything happens and you must leave my side, then I am to be glued to Milford until you return.”

  Bradford nodded, his expression serious. Caroline smoothed his brow with her hand. “Please don’t worry, Bradford. The men you hired haven’t come up with a single clue. Besides, I told you that it was probably some vindictive female who wanted you for herself and thought to scare me off.”

  Now it was Bradford who showed his exasperation. “So this alleged lady pushed you down a flight of steps, sawed through the wheel of my carriage, and then wrote you that letter? This is your suggestion?”

  “Not a lady, Bradford, a woman. There is a distinct difference. And it makes sense to me. She could have hired someone to tamper with the carriage wheel.”

  Bradford kept his thoughts to himself. His wife was such an innocent, and he didn’t wish to alarm her over the information he had gathered. It was his duty to protect her from harm and he didn’t want her to be frightened, only cautious. Until the trap was closed, the proof complete, she wasn’t going to be out of his sight. She belonged to him now, and anyone who dared touch her wouldn’t live to tell about it.

  Bradford was quiet while he dressed. Caroline kept getting in his way, and when he paused in his duties to tell her that her bedroom was right next to his, and that she could dress with ease in there, his wife openly scoffed and told him in no uncertain terms that separate bedrooms were not to her liking.

  “I will not allow Henderson in here to assist me with you running around without your clothes on,” Bradford growled.

  Caroline stood in front of the oval mirror, brushing her hair, unimpressed with his comment.

  “Well?”

  “You’re no longer a boy, Bradford. You can dress yourself now. I have been doing so for years.”

  “Your maid grumbles over it.”

  “Mary Margaret has enough to do without chasing me around.”

  Bradford gave up the argument and went downstairs to wait. He paced the confines of the receiving room, a cognac in hand, and brooded over the evening ahead. He had almost declined the invitation to Clavenhurst, the Marquis of Aimsmond’s grand home, because of all the difficulties of keeping Caroline safe in such a large crowd. He couldn’t decline, of course, for the marquis was Caroline’s uncle and would be hurt if she didn’t attend.

  The ball had a dual purpose. Charity and Paul were to be married in two days and the affair was a prenuptial celebration. It was also given in honor of the Duke and Duchess of Bradford, the first affair that he and Caroline would join as husband and wife.

  Caroline appeared in the doorway, dressed in a shimmering gown of ice-blue silk, and found her husband leaning against the mantel of the fireplace. His ferocious frown slowly eased, replaced by an arrogant look that puzzled Caroline.

  She made a dramatic curtsy, a sparkle in her violet eyes that mimicked the color of her gown, and then smiled when Bradford lifted his cognac in a salute.

  “You were frowning just a moment ago and now you look very pleased with yourself,” Caroline remarked. And most handsome, she thought to herself. He was wearing formal black and when he stood away from the fireplace, he looked terribly big and powerful again. Caroline wondered when his appearance would cease to cause the quickening of her pulse. Just looking at him made her muscles tighten with a yearning to have him take her into his arms.

  Caroline had never been much good at hiding her thoughts, and Bradford kne
w exactly what she was thinking. “If you continue to look at me like that, we won’t be going anywhere,” Bradford remarked. He placed his goblet on the mantel and slowly walked over to stand before his wife. His blood had started to feel uncomfortably warm, his clothes were becoming too confining, and it was all because his beautiful wife had given him that special look. He couldn’t resist taking her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

  With a sigh of reluctance, he helped her with her winter cape and called for the carriage. They would be late as it was, and the sooner the evening was done, the sooner he could hold her against him again.

  The Earl of Braxton was hovering just inside the entrance of the marquis’s home and embraced Caroline before she could even get her cape off. “I’ve missed you, Daughter,” her father announced. He pulled her aside and whispered in a voice loud enough for Bradford to hear, “Are you happy, Caroline? Is he taking good care of you?”

  Caroline smiled. “I am very happy, Father.” She didn’t continue with her admissions, knowing full well that Bradford was listening to her. If she told her father how truly happy she was, how content, her husband would be impossible to live with. Humility wasn’t one of his strengths, and his ego would grow to new heights.

  Charity and Paul then claimed her attention, and then Uncle Franklin, with his wife beside him, entered the conversation.

  The Duke and Duchess of Bradford made a grand entrance into the ballroom and immediately made their way over to their host. Uncle Milo was sitting near the entrance, and Caroline could see that he was already fatigued. He started to stand but Caroline shook her head and immediately sat down next to him.

  Bradford left Caroline with her uncle, after giving her a hard look that she interpreted to mean that she wasn’t to wander off. The marquis admitted that he was tired, but only from the excitement. He winked at Caroline and whispered that he hadn’t done anything to ready the party. Franklin and Loretta had seen to everything.

  Caroline held his hand and listened to him explain his activities of the past weeks. She was content to sit by his side for the rest of the evening if it gave him pleasure to have her there, and declined several invitations to dance.

  When Uncle Milo asked her in his blunt manner just when he could expect an addition to the family, Caroline laughed. “We have not discussed it,” she admitted to him. “When it happens,” she added. “I don’t even know how many children Bradford wants.”

  “I would like to live long enough to hold your first child,” the marquis told her.

  “I would like you to live forever,” Caroline whispered in return. Her remark pleased her uncle and he squeezed her hand with great affection.

  Bradford stood with Milford across the room and couldn’t keep his gaze off Caroline. Milford tried to lead his friend into several topics of conversation and finally, when he could get little response, let his exasperation show. “The king is divorcing his wife and moving to France next week,” he commented.

  Bradford nodded agreement and continued to stare at his wife. “She’s not going to vanish, Brad. For God’s sake, man, get hold of yourself.” Milford started chuckling and whacked Bradford on the back, jarring him out of his preoccupation.

  “She isn’t wearing any jewels.”

  Milford showed his confusion over the remark, turned to look at Caroline and then back to his friend. “She’s wearing your ring,” he remarked.

  “She would never take it off.” The arrogant comment made Milford smile.

  “Bradford, why are we discussing jewelry?” he asked.

  Bradford shrugged and finally gave Milford his full attention. “Have you learned anything else regarding my problem?” he asked. He was referring to the investigation concerning Caroline’s enemy, but there were too many people close enough to overhear.

  “Our problem and yes, I did find out something I think significant.”

  Bradford gave a curt nod. “We will discuss it later, after dinner.”

  Across the room, Caroline assisted her uncle to his feet and handed him his cane. She had spent over an hour with him and he was now content. He kissed her good-bye, after she had promised three times to visit him the following afternoon, and then made his way to the foyer. Caroline walked beside him, nodding acknowledgments to those who called out to her.

  “Will you be able to sleep with all this noise?” Caroline asked him.

  “I sleep like a baby these days,” Uncle Milo stated. “Go now and enjoy yourself, my dear. I’ll be refreshed and eager for our visit tomorrow.”

  Caroline stood with her hands folded and watched her uncle slowly make his way up the steps. When he was out of sight, she turned, thinking to find Bradford, but Rachel Tillman, with her fiancé, Nigel Crestwall, intercepted her.

  Rachel was quite aggressive about gaining Caroline’s attention. She grabbed her by the arm in a grip that actually hurt. “You must be terribly satisfied with yourself,” Rachel said. Caroline was so surprised by the vehemence in her voice and the painful lock on her arm that she could only look at the woman in astonishment.

  “See how innocent she pretends,” Rachel said to Nigel. Her voice sneered the remark and Caroline was quite horrified by it.

  “Rachel, what are you talking about?” Caroline demanded. She jerked her arm free, glancing around a little frantically for her husband.

  Rachel misinterpreted her glance and said, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to ruin your lovely party. And it was such an honor to be invited. I just wanted you to know that I’m not fooled by you. You’ve ruined everything. Everything!” Rachel grabbed hold of Caroline’s arm again, digging her nails into the skin. “You’ll pay for it, bitch. Just you wait and see.”

  “I have never beaten a woman before, have I, Milford?” Bradford made the casual remark from behind Rachel’s back and so he couldn’t see the look of outrage on her face. “But if you don’t remove your hand from my wife’s arm immediately, Miss Tillman, I believe you will be the first.”

  Rachel jerked her hand away with a vengeance that pushed Caroline back a step. She glared at Nigel, as if placing the blame on him for Bradford’s unnoticed advance, and then turned and walked into the ballroom. Nigel had to run to keep up with her.

  Caroline watched their retreat with building anger. Milford was the first to comment on her change in expressions. He took hold of Caroline’s arm and began to rub the angry marks away. “You’re supposed to react during a confrontation, not after,” he said with a grin.

  Caroline looked from the grinning Milford to her scowling husband. “I am always slow to react,” she said. “Bradford! Rachel hates me. She said that it was all my fault.”

  “What is?” Milford inquired.

  Caroline shrugged. She noticed that several people were staring at her and quickly removed the frown. “I have no idea.”

  “We’re going home. Milford, see to her while I call for our carriage.”

  “We are not going home,” Caroline stated. “I’ll not run from the likes of Rachel Tillman. And I have promised to meet—”

  “You aren’t going to meet anyone.” Bradford’s voice was getting harsher and Caroline drew herself up, bristling inside.

  She was not about to leave. Her father would be disappointed, as she hadn’t spent any time with him, and she had promised to have a confidential talk with Charity after dinner. She didn’t explain any of that to Bradford but only whispered, “You haven’t even danced with me yet.”

  “That’s true, Brad,” Milford interjected. He continued to smile, even when the duke and duchess both gave him disgruntled looks.

  “Fine! We will dance and then take our leave.” Bradford took hold of Caroline’s elbow and pulled her toward the ballroom.

  Caroline smiled, realizing that she had just won a small victory. “Thank you, husband,” she said, trying not to gloat.

  “One dance,” Bradford insisted as they joined the set about to begin.

  “Yes, Bradford.”

  Her mild accept
ance didn’t fool him for a minute. As soon as the dance ended, Milford suddenly appeared and demanded the next set with Caroline as his partner.

  Bradford reluctantly agreed. His mood improved when he saw that Rachel and Nigel were taking their leave. He didn’t want another encounter tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Then he would have a short discussion with the vile woman and get some answers.

  Caroline danced with most of London and was quite exhausted by the time the midnight dinner was finished and the dancing resumed. Bradford was content to watch his wife. He even found himself smiling a time or two over the stir his beautiful wife was causing. She held herself with a dignity and confidence that pleased him. And twice, when he least expected it, she turned from her partner and smiled at him.

  Bradford noticed that Terrence St. James was always hovering near his wife, and so was a buck named Stanton for that matter. He kept his patience and added them to his growing list of dandies he would have to have a short talk with.

  “You’re frowning again, Brad. Still thinking about Rachel?”

  Bradford shook his head. “Just watching the studs lusting after my wife,” he remarked. He sounded bored but Milford knew, from the look in his friend’s eyes, that he was irritated. “I will talk with some of them before the night is over.”

  Milford shook his head. “You’ll have to speak to every man here,” he commented. “Look, Caroline is following her father onto the dance floor. She’ll be fine for a few minutes. Now would be a good time to have our discussion, don’t you agree.”

  Bradford nodded and followed Milford out of the room. He paused, long enough to put the fear of God in Stanton’s eyes, and then continued. Milford was acting very nonchalant, but the fact that he had brought up the matter of his information twice now told Bradford it wasn’t just another false lead. They found the marquis’s study, stared the couple who had sought a moment’s privacy out of the room without exchanging a single word, and then shut the door.