Presumably he would release her soon, but nothing could prevent the story from spreading all over the British Isles. For the rest of her life she would be known as the spinster who was abducted by the savage. People would speculate in hushed, excited voices about what the Wild Man had donetoher.
Would it be better or worse if it became known that "Chand-a-la" was an Englishman? Either way, her father would be furious at the notoriety, and he would blame her for it. She shuddered at thethought.
It was taking him a long time to groom thathorse.
Her hands clenched as a horrible new thought struck her. Surely he hadn't become so angry that he would abandon her in this isolated cottage! He might be a wretch, but he wasn't a monster. Yet how much did she know about him? Nothing,really.
She found herself wondering how long it would take to starve. No, she would die of thirstfirst.
The pantry was just large enough for hertopace.
Chapter6
After what seemed like an eternity,the door swung open. Roxanne bolted out, her relief boiling into anger. She was about to start snapping when she saw Dominick and her words died in herthroat.
The Wild Man was gone. He had taken her at her word and shaved off the disreputable beard, trimmed his hair, and donned the impeccably tailored garments of an English gentleman. He must also have bathed and washed off some of the stain that had darkened his skin, for his complexion had lightened to a less conspicuous shade. No wonder she had been in the pantrysolong.
Dominick made a deep, heavily ironic bow. "Is this satisfactory, MissMayfield?"
As a savage, he had irritated her. Now, as a gentleman, he terrified her. She had always known that his birth was higher than hers, but it had been easy to forget that when he had laughed and teased and coaxed her into loving him. Now he was the epitome of the arrogant, high-bredaristocrat.
Her jaw set stubbornly. She might be drab and provincial, but she didn't have to admit it. "A great improvement, Lord Chandler." She sailed by him, head high, then settled in a Windsor chair and smoothed her skirts over her knees. "I believe you said somethingabouttea."
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he was no longer as intimidating. "As you command, MissMayfield."
With a flourish he produced an already prepared tray where a fat brown teapot steamed gently. Setting it on the table beside her, he said, "I believe this has steeped long enough. Will you pour, MissMayfield?"
She gave a prim little nod. "Very good,mylord."
Like the pot, the cups were simple cottage earthenware, but she poured the tea as if the service was porcelain. "There is no milk, but would you likesugar?"
"No, thank you, Miss Mayfield." Dominick took the chair opposite hers. He guessed that the excessive formality was appealing to Roxanne's sense of humor, for there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she handed him a cup. That was a good sign. What a pity that she had ruthlessly pulled back her hair again. Ah, well, what went up could come downagain.
He took several sips, then set the cup down. Now that the atmosphere was calmer, it was time to talk. "I gather that you never received the letter I sent you after ...thatday."
She gave him a quick, startled glance, then looked down at her cup again. "I received no letter." Her voice trembled. "Though I can't imagine what you might have said that could have mitigated whatyoudid."
Dominick was unsurprised to learn that her father had intercepted the letter. No doubt his servants feared the man more than Dominick's bribes could overcome. "It was not a brilliant example of epistolary art," he admitted. "As I recall, I said that I loved you, apologized abjectly for the fact that I had to leave, and promised that someday we would be together. Which is why Iamhere."
"So romantic," she said mockingly. "But words are cheap. What mattered were youractions."
His jaw tightened. It was time to stop protecting Sir William. "I don't suppose your father ever told you how he blackmailed me into givingyouup. "
"He blackmailed you?" She slammed her teacup into the saucer. "Surely your memory is faulty, LordChandler!"
"Every word he said is engraved on my liver," he retorted. "Sir William said that my father, Charles, had seduced and abandoned the woman your father loved, and that she killed herself as a result. Your father wanted revenge, and he took it on me by swearing that he would tell the tale to my mother, who was in fragilehealth."
Dominick's jaw worked. "Believe me, it was the most difficult decision of my life. But as much as I loved you, I couldn't pursue my own pleasure when doing so would cost my mother her peace of mind, and possibly her life. If I had done that, I would not have been worthy ofyourlove."
Roxanne stared at him. "A touching story. It might have convinced me, if I hadn't seen with my own eyes the paper yousigned."
It took him a moment to remember. "That's right, your father wanted my renunciation in writing. I was so numb that I did as he asked, though I didn't see the point. The paper was only as good asmyword."
He smiled humorlessly. "Which is to say, not good at all since I did not feel bound by a promise extracted by force. What kept me away from you was concern for my mother. When I learned that she was nearing death, I returned to England to say my goodbyes." He drew a deep breath. "When she was gone, I was free tofindyou."
"Don't lie to me!" she cried, her face twisted with anguish. "You didn't give me up because you were a good son, but because my father paid you a thousand guineas togoaway!"
He stared at her, staggered. "That's utter rubbish. There was never any mention of money. If Sir William had tried to buy me off, I would have laughed inhisface."
