More than Passion (22 page)

“The funds are usually allocated at the time the repairs are ordered, not completed.”

Leed looked off for a moment, lost in thought.

“Leed, what are you thinking?” Chester asked.

“I’m not sure what to think right now, Chester.” He faced Geoffrey. “Let me ponder it for a while, Kane?”

“Certainly, Leed.”

Silence fell over the room, the men each lost in their own thoughts.

“Well, gentlemen.” Roberts straightened away from the wall. “If you’re quite finished, I’d like to retire to my room.”

“Readying yourself for any lady in particular, Roberts?” Chester asked with a grin.

“Who is the lucky girl?” Leed asked.

Roberts grinned wickedly and said nothing. He couldn’t, however, seem to take Geoffrey’s eyes on him for more than a moment and hurriedly left the room.

Chapter 22

A few days passed. Becca was still hurt that Geoffrey wasn’t sharing his concerns, but she put it aside, loath to argue again. The men continued to hunt each morning while the ladies passed the time in pleasant conversation.

One evening after dinner, the gentlemen and ladies separated, as was the custom. In the parlor, Becca tried to follow the ladies’ conversations, but she couldn’t take her mind off Geoffrey. What was troubling him? She excused herself from the room, thinking to breach custom and interrupt her husband. Keeping quiet on the matter had taken its toll on her. She needed to talk with him. She was being a fool. With a sigh, she turned to return to the parlor.

“Rebecca,” Lord Roberts said, startling her.

She gasped in surprise. She quickly regained her composure and stepped back from him. “Good evening, Lord Roberts.”

“What are you about if I may inquire?”

“I was just …,” she trailed off. “Never mind.”

“Just what?” he asked with a smile.

Becca returned his smile and shrugged. “Roberts, what do you know of …? I shouldn’t ask you.”

“Rebecca, are you wondering about Kane’s troubles?”

She stared at him as guilt slashed through her. Finally, she nodded. “Can you tell me about them?”

Without another word, he led her into the library. He closed the door quietly and crossed over to where she stood.

“What can you tell me of Geoffrey’s worries?” she asked. “He says it is nothing, but I know something is wrong. I keep finding him closeted with you or Lord Leed or Lord Chester.”

He smiled crookedly at her. “You didn’t come in here with me to discuss your husband’s problems, did you, Rebecca?”

“Yes, of course I did.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You wish to be alone with me.”

“I wish to know how I can help my husband.”

“Rebecca,” he said in a husky voice, “you have feelings for me, don’t you?”

She gasped. “Roberts, I don’t have—”

“Don’t try to deny it, Rebecca,” Roberts said smoothly. “I saw the notes you made in your study.”

“Notes?”

“Your list? Ah, you found matches for both Leed and Chester. But why couldn’t you find one for my most excellent self?”

She pulled back from him. “That list was a bit of fun, Roberts.”

“You couldn’t match anyone to me because you have feelings for me yourself.”

“Nonsense!” She turned to go, but he grasped her arm.

“I felt it, Rebecca.” He brought his face close to hers. “I felt it in the kiss we shared in the garden.”

She was frozen, words of denial stuck in her throat. “Lord Roberts, I—”

Roberts brought his lips to her neck. He nuzzled her skin, his hands on her waist now. “Rebecca,” he murmured.

She regained her senses and placed her hands on his shoulders to push him away.

“Take your hands off my wife.”

Roberts lifted his head and stepped back from her. Becca flicked her gaze toward the doorway, shocked at the fierce scowl on Geoffrey’s face.

“Kane,” Roberts started. “This isn’t—”

“Isn’t what, Roberts?” Geoffrey growled. “Pray, enlighten me.”

Roberts turned his back to Becca, standing between her and Geoffrey.

Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t think to protect my wife from me.”

“Kane, none of this is her fault.”

“Get out. You’ll leave Kanewood at first light.”

With a worried glance toward Becca, Roberts took his leave. Geoffrey closed his eyes, his lips a thin line.

“Geoffrey, I—” she began.

He held up a hand to silence her and she honored his request.

After a long minute, he opened his eyes. “Tell me, Becca,” he said, his voice thick. “Tell me you did nothing to invite this.”

Once again, she couldn’t find her voice. She’d never seen him so angry. She could only stare at him, dumb. To her horror, he seemed to take her silence as an admission of guilt. He turned away from her, bracing his hands on the writing desk, and hung his head.

“Geoffrey, please.”

She reached out to touch his shoulder and he flinched at the slight contact.

“Take yourself upstairs, Becca. I can’t bear to look at you now.”

Becca felt tears burning in her eyes as she did what he asked. She walked slowly out of the room, bound for their chambers. Geoffrey obviously believed she’d encouraged Lord Roberts’s attentions. Had she? No. Any attraction between them was completely in Roberts’s mind. She loved her husband and would never want another man to touch her.

But what of Geoffrey’s anger? She’d never been so frightened in all of her life. He’d looked at her with disgust, so sure of her betrayal. How could he think so little of her?

Heartbroken, she changed out of her gown and readied herself for bed. After waiting up for her husband for nearly two hours, she climbed into the big, lonely bed. Hugging her pillow, she fell into a fitful sleep.

Some time later, she awoke with a start. Her lids fluttered open, but her eyes were slow to adjust to the gloom in the chamber. The drapes were open, letting in a slice of moonlight. She looked toward the window. There, in silhouette, stood Geoffrey.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Geoffrey?”

He lit a candle, dispelling some of the shadows. Becca took in his appearance. He wore only his breeches, his feet bare. She brought her gaze up to his face. The expression she saw there was unsettling.

“Get out of my bed,” he ordered, his words a bit slurred.

She blinked up at him, certain that she’d misunderstood him. “What are you—”

“I said, get out!”

Becca scrambled to do as he asked, tears blurring her vision. She reached for her wrapper to cover herself, but his hands reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. He ran his gaze over her as his fingers dug into her flesh and she felt a chill to her soul. He looked like a stranger to her.

She cried out, “You’re hurting me!”

Geoffrey stared at her for a moment longer. Finally, he let her go. He turned away and raked his hands through his hair, muttering incoherently under his breath. She began to walk past him, but one word stopped her.

“Why?” he asked.

“What?”

“Why did you let him touch you?”

His eyes met hers then, ablaze with anger. Her breath caught as he stepped closer to her. “You’re mine, Becca,” he growled. “Mine.”

He grabbed at her shoulders once more, tugging at her nightgown. The thin fabric gave way with a harsh tearing sound. His gaze ran over her from head to toe. She read the raw desire in their blue depths a split second before he grabbed her roughly and crushed his mouth to hers.

She whimpered and the kiss changed. His tongue swept through her mouth, teasing her. She caught his passion, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. He held her tightly, grinding himself against her.

He all but threw her on the bed, staring down at her as he unbuttoned his breeches. He came down on top of her, nearly crushing her with his weight. Her eyes fluttered open, her pulse quickening at the hot glare in his. This was so unlike him, this anger mixed with lust. She trembled in his grasp.

“You’re mine, Becca,” he ground out. “Say it!”

“Don’t do this, please.” She gasped. “Not like this.”

He froze and grasped her chin and tilted her head up. His eyes met hers, his gaze steady. “Mine.”

This was not like the careful attention he’d paid her since declaring his love. No, this was a possessiveness that was frightening. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt hot tears trickle from them. “I’m yours,” she whispered brokenly.

His hold eased and he lifted himself away from her. “Forgive me,” he muttered.

He rolled away from her. Becca’s mind reeled as the chill from his sudden withdrawal bit into her. His passion had stunned her, his quick desertion just as startling. Yet, she needed more from him: a tender word or soft caress to assure her of his love.

His snores told her he’d fallen asleep. She slowly climbed out of bed and picked her nightgown up off of the floor. It was torn beyond repair. With a sigh, she retrieved her wrapper and donned it, tying it tightly around her waist. She curled up against her husband’s back and fell asleep.

Sunlight streamed through the window, rousing Becca. She stretched, feeling a bit sore. Suddenly, the memory of the night before came back to her. She looked over at Geoffrey’s side of the bed, not surprised to find it vacant. He’d been so angry last night, she’d briefly worried about her safety. But he hadn’t hurt her. In the end, he hadn’t hurt her.

Geoffrey strode out of his dressing room just then. He froze when he saw her, finally shrugging into his jacket. She smiled faintly at him in greeting.

“Good morning, Becca,” he said stiffly.

He seemed distant, cold.

“Where are you off to so early?”

He adjusted his cravat in the cheval mirror. “I’m leaving for London after breakfast.”

“London?” She sat upright. “Why do you have to go to London?”

He turned back to her, an indefinable look crossing his features. “I have business to attend to.”

She lowered her gaze, knowing full well that he wouldn’t share this with her.

He crossed to the bed and sat down on the edge. “Becca, about last night ….”

She could only stare at him.

He took a breath and continued. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened with Roberts.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her relief was short-lived, however.

“I never should have left your side,” he added. “If you hadn’t been given the opportunity to stray, this never would have happened.”

She gasped. She couldn’t believe that the man she loved, the man she thought loved her, had such a low opinion of her.

“Geoffrey, h-how can you …?”

He stood. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and turned to leave. He paused at the door, opening his mouth to say something more to her. Instead, he nodded curtly and took his leave. She watched him go, stunned. After a while, she rose and readied herself for the day. Dressed in a gown of somber gray, she went down to breakfast.

Lady Margaret greeted her warmly. “Good morning, Rebecca. I hear my son has taken himself off to London?”

“Yes, Lady Margaret. He has business to attend to.”

Patricia caught Becca’s eye. The older girl smiled slyly, as if she held a delicious secret.

“Hmm,” she started. “It seems that Viscount Roberts has also left our company this morning. I wonder, Rebecca, if that’s merely a coincidence?”

Becca flushed, lowering her gaze. Patricia laughed softly to herself.

It seemed that with the earl’s taking himself off to London, the guests realized that they were very nearly overstaying their welcome. Lady Margaret and Becca saw them off that afternoon, accepting their thanks graciously.

Thomas bowed to the ladies, taking his daughter’s hand. “Girl, I had a splendid time. I only wish I could have thanked Kane myself.”

“Perhaps he’ll stop at the inn on his return, Father.”

Thomas brightened at that. He took his leave then, and Becca and her mother-in-law stood alone in the cavernous entryway.

Lady Margaret looked at Becca closely. “Rebecca, are you feeling all right? You look a bit pale.”

“Yes, of course,” Becca answered. “I’m just tired, I suppose.”

The ladies went into the parlor, picking up on the pastimes they had abandoned with the arrival of the guests nearly a week earlier. Becca was grateful to have the fire screen to work on, concentrating all of her attention on the intricate details of the floral design she painted instead of her distrustful husband currently running as far away from her as possible.

Chapter 23

Geoffrey sat brooding in his carriage, reviewing the events of the past evening in his mind. When he’d found Becca with Roberts in the library, it had taken all of his control not to throw the man out the window. Her hands had been on his shoulders, pulling him closer. Or had she been pushing him away?

He recalled nothing of what happened after he’d sent Becca away from him. Nothing, that was, until he’d gone up to their sleeping chamber. He’d tried to get her out of the room, to spare her from the rage he’d felt so close to the surface. But in the end, he’d had to have her. At the last moment, he’d come to his senses and let her alone. No doubt he’d terrified her nonetheless.

Shame washed over him. He closed his eyes and settled back against the seat as the carriage rolled on to his London townhouse.

The next afternoon, Miles met him at the door with obvious surprise. “My lord!” the butler exclaimed. “We were not expecting you.”

“See to my bags, Miles,” Geoffrey said in a flat voice.

The butler looked behind his master, at the carriage on the street and turned back to Geoffrey. “Isn’t Lady Kanewood with you, my lord?”

He walked toward his study. “She remains at Kanewood.”

Geoffrey began to drown his sorrows, and his conscience, in brandy. Miles had insisted that he eat something later that evening and Geoffrey finally relented, choking down some soup and bread. Very late that night, he took himself upstairs to the room he’d so recently shared with Becca. She was safer at Kanewood, from the danger aimed at him and from him. It wasn’t only the matter of the missing funds and attempts to do harm that had him worried. He didn’t trust himself around her after his behavior two nights past. With a ragged sigh, he crawled into bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.