Amanda must have known her brother quite well, because he did just that. “I’m sorry, Phelia—”

  “Don’t be,” she interrupted with a weak smile. “I am so very used to jealousy, it doesn’t bother me in the least anymore.”

  “You think that’s all that was?”

  “Certainly. Unwarranted in this case, but then jealousy doesn’t need truth or facts to rear its head. Believe me, I know that better than anyone.”

  “Commendable attitude, gel,” Esmerelda put in. “But my niece knows better than to make outbursts like that.”

  Ophelia chuckled. “I can hardly hold her at fault for that when I’m the one usually making outbursts. But perhaps you can escort me to my room, Rafe? I would rather not be ambushed by your sister again tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  I T WAS RATHER BOLD OF her to ask Rafe to walk her to her room. It was a bedroom, after all. The proper form would have been to ask Esmeralda instead. But Ophelia hadn’t hesitated. She didn’t ask to be here, she was being kept from leaving, so the normal rules of etiquette could be suspended for the duration as far as she was concerned. And that was all the reasoning and logic she needed to proceed down the path of ruination, as it were.

  The thought amused her, since she didn’t for a moment think that any such thing would happen if she dallied a bit with the next Duke of Norford. They were too secluded here. And he’d seen to it that she had a proper chaperone. So no one would ever know.

  She might have to mention it to her future husband, if she was lacking her virginity, but she could do so without providing names. If she was lucky enough to find a man who really loved her and wasn’t just smitten by her face, then she didn’t think it would matter all that much, and if it did, well then, he wouldn’t really be in love with her, would he?

  How easy it was to make excuses when something she really wanted was involved. But then she was a London girl and far more sophisticated than most debutantes. Every scandal in her fair city for the last ten years had passed by her ears. She knew how they were started, how they were avoided, and how to defuse them.

  She slowed her step at the top of the stairs now that she had Rafe completely alone. The excitement that had shown up the moment she’d made her decision to test his theory was new to her and still present. She was going to make love with him. The thought was absolutely thrilling. But she couldn’t just pounce on him there in the hall. A little more subtlety was called for.

  She began, “I suppose I should assure you, after your sister’s allegation, that I don’t have designs on you.”

  “Believe me, Phelia, you’ve made that perfectly clear from the very beginning. Actually…,” he started to amend, but she easily guessed that he was remembering that she’d approached him at Summers Glade.

  “That was before I knew that you don’t play by the rules, and to be honest, any man would have served at that point, even you. I was impatient and simply wanted to get it over with, and you were one of the few men I knew, without a doubt, that my father would approve of.”

  “I do believe I should feel insulted.”

  They had stopped to talk, so she couldn’t miss his grin. “Yes, you certainly look offended,” she replied. “But, no, I didn’t know you yet, so my reasoning had nothing a’tall to do with you, and everything to do with your title. But that was for my father. Your wealth, on the other hand—” She paused to chuckle. “I confess that is my own personal criterion. I have every intention of being a social matriarch and to give the grandest balls London has ever seen, and that will require a lot of money. So I won’t be marrying a pauper if I can help it. But there are many more wealthy men to go around than there are titles as esteemed as yours will be.”

  He feigned a forlorn sigh. “As assurances go, m’dear, I’m afraid you’ve failed miserably.”

  She blushed slightly. “I don’t think I phrased that properly. What I meant was, there are more men that would suit me than there are to suit my father, but I’m not all that keen on taking his preferences into consideration anymore. And that means you’re the very last man I’d put on my list, because you’re definitely on his. Does that make better sense to you?”

  “Rather convoluted, but I’m getting the drift that you’d spite yourself just to spite your father.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure, bring my renowned spite into it.”

  “You don’t see it that way?”

  “I can understand why you do, but you don’t know how it is between my father and me.”

  “I could hazard a good guess that you don’t like each other.”

  “That isn’t the case at all. I don’t hate him, I just lost all love for him long ago. We tolerate each other, I suppose is a good way to put it. But I’m tired of being used to further his own ambitions. If you doubt me, just look at what he’s done to me this year alone. Engaged me to a barbarian and thrown me to the wolves!”

  “Are you calling me a wolf?”

  “You noticed that, did you?”

  He laughed. “I think I get the point now.”

  “Good, because if I find the perfect man for myself, I wouldn’t think twice about marrying him without my father’s permission. I am well aware that there are places we could go to accomplish that.”

  “Now that reassures me.”

  “I thought it would.”

  She turned away and took another step down the hall. It took a moment for her to get up the nerve to add, “Having said all that, don’t be alarmed when I tell you I’d like to test that theory you raised today.”

  She glanced back to see he’d gone very still. He knew exactly what she meant. “I think—perhaps—you should give that more thought.” And then he groaned. “I don’t believe I just said that.”

  “I have thought about it, and I must tell you I’ve never felt such—such—”

  “Sublime ecstasy?” he supplied with another groan.

  “No, not that,” she said with a blush. “Though that was very nice. I meant the tranquillity that followed and is still with me. You don’t know how rare it is, for me to feel this way.”

  “You know I wasn’t completely serious today, when I mentioned other outlets for your passions?”

  “Weren’t you? But it makes perfect sense! Especially considering this lingering effect it’s had on me. Look at your sister, for example. She didn’t disturb me a’tall tonight, when I usually react to that sort of jealous hostility with pointed barbs of my own. So I am going to test this, Rafe, with you or with someone else. If you were right, then I have hope now of getting rid of at least half of my flaws for good. That isn’t something I’m going to pass up.”

  “At the risk of losing this golden opportunity, I feel it only fair to point out that making love right now, while you are already at peace, will test nothing.”

  She frowned, then gasped. “I didn’t think of that! But you’re quite right. And perhaps what happened today will have a permanent effect—?” He was shaking his head at her. “No? Well, I suppose I’ll just have to see how long it does last. Good night.”

  “Phelia.”

  She pretended she didn’t hear him as she hurried to her room. How utterly embarrassing. He probably thought she’d merely been making advances toward him, that she’d known all along that her suggestion would be pointless just now. But damn, why did he have to point that out?

  Chapter Twenty-four

  R APHAEL STOOD AT THE PARLOR window watching Ophelia take her walk outside. He wasn’t going to join her this time. His mood had turned sour last night and still was, which was hardly conducive to gay antics that she might expect out in the yard. But he still couldn’t help watching her.

  The sun had come out. The fresh snow on the ground that she enjoyed wouldn’t last long now. Bartholomew had remarked that while they got their fair share of it in the winter, they didn’t usually get this much snow all at once. Raphael was glad they had. If there hadn’t been snow on the ground yesterday, Ophelia’s coach wouldn??
?t have landed in a ditch and she might have made good her escape.

  Amanda had left early that morning, still too angry to even bid him good-bye. He’d given Albert a letter to take to his factor, who would give him a year’s pay before he “quit,” as long as he got Amanda back to London safely. It wasn’t the hundred pounds he’d risked his job for, but much more than the fellow deserved.

  While his eyes followed Ophelia’s every step, he unwittingly put his raw knuckles to his mouth to suck on them. He’d slammed his fist against his bedroom wall last night to commemorate what a bloody fool he was. Passing up an opportunity to make love to her? And it had even been her idea!

  He still found that remarkable, though after some thought, not all that surprising. Ophelia could in no way be compared to an average debutante, and not just because of her exceptional beauty. She’d had too much exposure to the London sophisticates, long before she should have had any. She’d even been receiving marriage proposals before she was out of the schoolroom.

  While that was her father’s fault, no doubt, it still gave Ophelia a more worldly outlook than a normal girl her age would have. Nor did he doubt she’d been serious last night. What he was sure of, and wished he wasn’t, was that she didn’t really care with whom she tested his theory. He merely happened to be handy. And that was the biggest source of his current disgruntlement.

  He had no intention of forming an attachment to her or even having a brief affair, but he was used to fighting women off, and his experience with Ophelia thus far was in the exact opposite direction. She wanted nothing to do with him, would prefer to get as far away from him as possible. The few overtures he’d been unable to resist making hadn’t changed that at all. She could at least have given him some indication that she wanted him personally, instead of saying any man would do for her damned testing.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she said behind him. “I simply wasn’t thinking.”

  His thoughts had distracted him long enough to miss her return to the house. He turned around and saw her shrugging out of her coat, which she laid over a chair as she made her way to the fireplace.

  “Don’t give it another thought,” he said. “All the snow off your boots? Letting it soak in will delay your feet getting warm.”

  “Yes, I’m good at stomping my feet.”

  “I can imagine.”

  She glanced at him, but must have decided not to respond to his dry tone. She held her hands out to the fire. She was wearing a dress today he hadn’t seen before. Like most of the dresses he’d seen her in, it was more suited to summer weather with its low neckline and short capped sleeves. But then most young women of his acquaintance dressed the same because houses were usually overheated in the winter and they remained mostly indoors. The lavender color seemed to enhance the rosiness of her cheeks, which was no doubt due to her walk outdoors. The dress was becoming, though perhaps a bit too snug across her breasts. He groaned inwardly. He had a feeling his every thought about her now was going to be sexual.

  He moved over to close the door she’d left open when she entered. “We need privacy?” she asked.

  “No, just keeping the heat from escaping into the hall.” However, privacy was on his mind, and the fact that his aunt wouldn’t be coming downstairs for several hours yet assured him that they’d have some privacy for a while. “You appear chilled.”

  “Yes, I was, thank you.” But with her hands warmed now, she moved over to the nearest sofa and took a seat. “I missed bidding your sister farewell.”

  He crossed the room to join her. “No, you didn’t. She left in a snit without saying good-bye to anyone. And how is your sublime tranquillity today? Still holding up?”

  She gave him another curious glance, but still answered, “Indeed. I’m beginning to think you were wrong, that it is permanent.”

  He shrugged. “My opinions are merely that, hardly infallible.”

  “So what is on the agenda for today?”

  “Why don’t we try a day where neither of us lies about anything.”

  That brought an immediate frown to her brow. “That implies you’ve been lying to me. About what?”

  “Quite the contrary, m’dear. After you admitted you don’t mind lying, I found myself assuming that’s what you’ve been doing here.”

  “You assumed wrong. I decided that telling the absolute truth was the only way I was going to get out of here.”

  “But you see, even that could be a lie,” he pointed out. “How would I know the difference? Once you start down the path of dishonesty, no one will trust what you say. You don’t see that?”

  She sat back with a little smirk. “What I see is you’re trying to provoke my temper. A good try, but it isn’t going to work.”

  Was he doing that? Actually, that was a damned good idea, though he insisted, “I just made a valid point.”

  “Yes, it was, and I quite agree. But then you see I’ve lived with that sort of distrust most of my life. And once you believe that no one is honest with you, not even your parents, then you no longer care if you’re believed or not. It simply doesn’t matter. Tit for tat, as it were.”

  “You really think it doesn’t matter?”

  She blushed. “Very well, sometimes I suppose it does. Like now. I really did decide that honesty was the only way to deal with you, but to be honest, that was because I couldn’t think of a single way to lie my way out of here.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. Sometimes she was simply too candid. But then she surprised him by taking exception to his amusement.

  “That isn’t funny. This entire situation hasn’t been. And I’ll have you know that it isn’t easy being completely honest when I’m accustomed to—”

  “Hurting people with your lies?”

  She gasped and glared at him “You really are two-faced, aren’t you? You deceive and lull with your amusing jocularity only so you can sneak up from behind and go straight for the jugular! I can’t believe I was lulled into forgetting that about you.”

  “No longer quite so tranquil?”

  “No, damn you!”

  “Good,” he said, and dragged her across his lap.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  H ER ANGER REAPPEARED WITH SHOCKING speed. It was as if she’d been shielded by a curtain made thick by her own delusions that was abruptly opened, and there in the audience were all her bitter emotions applauding that she could no longer hide from them. And that absolutely infuriated Ophelia, who directed her rage right where it belonged, at the instigator who’d drawn open that curtain.

  But just as quickly, Rafe’s mouth was on hers, and while her fist hit his shoulder once before he gathered her too close for her to reach it again, she was soon gripping his head instead with both of her hands and kissing him back in an explosion of passion. Damn him! She didn’t doubt he’d deliberately provoked her, she just didn’t care at the moment.

  He leaned back on the sofa and without much ado positioned her so she was lying on top of him. Not for a moment did he break the kiss that was inciting her. The position gave him full access to her body, and since it was obvious that he didn’t need to keep her trapped there, that she was fully involved in that kiss, his hands were free to wander over her back and lower. And he went lower indeed. Before long he was gripping both her nether cheeks and moving her carefully against the hardness between his legs.

  In doing so, he somehow found an incredibly sensitive spot—on her. And every time it pressed against his hardness, she felt a little shock that caused her to bounce against him. She couldn’t prevent it, had no control over that reaction at all, but it was raising her passion to new heights, so much so that she was soon grinding her body against him.

  The heat emanating between them was growing much hotter. She wished it were cooler in the room, that he hadn’t closed the…door. A quelling thought, and once it arrived, it took precedence.

  She was loath to end what was happening, but propriety had reared its ugly head and she gasped out f
inally, “Someone might come—”

  “I locked the door.”

  The anxiety that had briefly mounted in her left her immediately. That was all she needed to hear to remove the worry of discovery and just experience to the fullest what he was doing to her.

  He’d slowly been raising her skirt. When he suddenly changed their positions, there was no cloth to hold him back from settling between her legs. What a thrilling sensation, having him there! It stirred inside her and seemed to uncoil, spreading a new heat that increased the sensual tension mounting in her.

  All of her senses were heightened to acute awareness. She was tasting him, minty from the tea he’d drunk earlier, smelling him, spicy musk! The hair she was still gripping wasn’t coarse at all; it felt like fine silk. She would never have imagined that. And every time she heard him groan, she felt a corresponding need to do the same, it thrilled her so much that she was having the same effect on him that he was on her. But what it did to her when she opened her eyes to see such intense heat in his—how could just seeing how much he wanted her excite her so much?

  Every breath was becoming labored. It wasn’t due to his weight on her, oh, no, that gave her a unique thrill in itself and was mostly centered between her legs. But she caught herself holding her breath, she couldn’t seem to help it, each time he touched a new sensitive spot on her, and he seemed to find so many! His hips weren’t still for a moment, nor were his hands.

  His fingers curled about her ear, traced a teasing path along her neck, which made her shiver deliciously, and it was easy for him to slip the top edge of her dress below her breasts. His palm pressing against one plump globe was exceedingly hot, but that was nothing compared to the heat of his mouth when he suddenly broke their kiss to suck on her breast. She forgot to breathe. Her arms wrapped about his head, her body arched against him. It felt as if she were going to go up in flames at any moment!