He turned away. “I have no choice. Don’t worry, though,” he added lightly. “Tempting though it is, I won’t rape you in the cause.”
Portia huddled away and looked out the window again. Bryght had warned her that the enmity between the Wares and the Mallorens ran deep, but she hadn’t realized the truth of it.
That Fort could even contemplate raping her for vengeance terrified her.
She watched moon-touched fields and trees roll by and prayed for safety, prayed too that Oliver was safe. Not only would it ease her fears about Bryght, but it would not further fuel this inferno.
They didn’t stop, but they hit a patch of bad road where recent rains had created axle-deep mud. They had to wait for extra horses to be brought from a nearby farm before the coach could be freed. That added hours to their journey. Matters became worse when the moon clouded over again in the dim pre-dawn and they had to slow to a crawl. The wintry sun was high by the time they arrived at the drive up to the Abbey, and shone bright on the handsome white house on the rise.
The park was not gated, so there was no hindrance to their arrival at the doors. Fort helped Portia down and she shivered. It was partly tiredness, and partly the chill air, but it was largely fear as to what she would find here.
Bryght found it hard to concentrate on balance sheets and profit calculations, but he forced his mind to discipline. Portia had already turned his life upside down and shattered his ability to think. He would not let her rule him entirely.
As midnight struck he stretched wearily and decided he could cease work with honor. The problem now was being able to sleep. He tended the fire, extinguished the candles and went into his bedroom, where he had expected to enjoy Portia as his wife. He laughed bitterly. He should have known that with Portia nothing would go as expected.
He’d had very pleasant plans, however, plans of a relaxed, leisurely loving with no strains or guilt between them. Plans of introducing a very eager student to some of the finer points of sensual love.
The memory of her mouth hot upon him had him hard. He sucked in a deep breath. The damn witch was not going to rule him with his cock.
He prepared for bed burningly aware of the object of his desire lying in a bed only two doors away. And his. By laws of God and man, his to take when and where he wished.
But he had no wish totakePortia. He’d had enough of fighting and was ready for peace. He wanted her to come to him in joyous wanting, without compulsion or wager.
Sly temptations crept upon him. Perhaps she was as eager as he, just not sure how to break this stalemate without losing face. If he went to her, would she smile with relief and drop her unreasonable demands?
He had his hand on the knob of her bedroom door before he found the control to stop. No, she must see that she could not rule him or he was a hopeless case.
He retreated to his bed to toss and turn until he got up to drink a few glasses of brandy. Not enough to lose all restraint, for God knows what he would do then, but enough to blunt awareness and eventually to bring him sleep.
He was woken by daylight and rang for his valet. He stretched, not feeling his best by any means, but proud of the fact he’d survived the night without groveling or violence. They had a lifetime. He could wait.
“We’ll breakfast in my study,” he told his man when he arrived. “Have word sent to milady.”
The man bowed out and Bryght rose to look out the window. Misty, but it promised to be clear. Good traveling weather. Once they were on their way north Portia would have to see that he was adamant. That still left the problem of Upcott to be faced, but once she was his body and soul that would be easier.
“Milord…”
Bryght turned, detecting a strange note in his valet’s voice.
“Yes?”
The man was red-faced and bewildered. “Milord, her ladyship is not in her bedchamber.” The man’s eyes flicked around as if seeking her here.
A chill went through Bryght. Damn it to Hades! “Has her bed been slept in?”
“Er…no, milord…”
He’d wring her beautiful neck. He made instant decisions. “Who knows? Just you and her maid?”
The man nodded.
“Then no one else is to. Is the maid tall or short?”
“Quite short, milord.”
“Good. Have my coach ready in twenty minutes and tell the maid to put on a cloak like my wife’s. She will enter the coach with me. I’ll let her off nearby. As far as anyone is concerned, my wife and I have left on our journey north.”
The valet’s eyes were widening despite his training. “Yes, milord.”
