She had been so receptive to him, so responsive, so aroused by his every touch. Susannah had set his soul on fire and made him forget all other women he had ever touched. Had he been so blind to what her real motives were?
He didn’t have the answers to his questions but he was going to find out, and he was going to start by having a conversation with the duchess.
Without comment to his servants, Race strode out of the book room, down the corridor and through the kitchen to the back door, which he jerked open and then hurried down the steps. His arms swung limply at his sides, his soul felt empty, and a raging storm was blowing in his heart.
“My lord, where are you going?” Jenkins asked, hurrying behind him.
“To see my neighbor,” he offered so calmly it frightened him.
“But my lord, you don’t have on a shirt, you don’t have on shoes. You are not properly dressed to pay a visit to anyone.”
Race didn’t slow down. “Obviously not, Jenkins, but nevertheless I am going.”
The day was gray and heavy with mist. The pathway stones beneath his feet were wet from recent rain. The damp air chilled his bare chest but did little to cool the heat inside him.
“Wh-what are you doing? There is no way you can get through that hedge. The yew is too thick and the hole is too small.”
“Watch me.”
Race bent down on his hands and knees and, just as he had twice last evening, he crawled through the opening he’d cut a few days ago. A sharp twig slashed across his chest, and he winced. Several more broken shoots scratched his back, but he didn’t let it slow him down as he came out on the other side and into Susannah’s garden.
“My lord, should I follow you?” his servant called from the other side of the yew wall.
“No, Jenkins. I don’t need you.”
Susannah’s slate path was overgrown with weeds and not as easy to walk on as his well-manicured pathways; still he stalked ahead. He stepped on a pebble and hissed an oath under his breath, but kept following the path he’d walked just hours before, until he reached the side of the house where the stairs led up to Susannah’s room.
He stopped for a moment at the bottom and inhaled a bitter breath. He was shoeless and shirtless, but hell, he didn’t care. If Susannah had duped him, he couldn’t let her get away with that.
Race climbed the steps two at a time. Luckily, the outside door was still unlocked, so he entered and went straight to Susannah’s bedchamber door and threw it open.
She stood in front of her dressing mirror, combing out the longest, most beautiful hair he’d ever seen. She wore a simple, sleeveless, white cotton shift.
She spun and gasped.
Bloody hell! He still wanted her, knowing she might have played him for a fool as no other person ever had. He still wanted her, and that tore him up inside.
“Race,” she said and threw down her brush and rushed toward him.
He held up his hand, stopping her, hating himself for his lack of control where she was concerned. “Stay where you are, Duchess.”
Her wide eyes searched his face as if she had no idea why he was there.
“But you’re bleeding,” she said.
He looked down and saw several scratches on his chest. One had a long, thin line of blood running down his ribcage.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered. “What happened to you?”
“You are what happened to me, Duchess. I think you drew me to your bed with the pretense of wanting my favors, and all the while you had planned with someone to steal my grandmother’s pearls.” He extended his hand out, palm up. “Hand them over.”
She gasped again. “What?” Her eyes narrowed, and she took a hesitant step toward him, her mouth gaping. “What do you mean, hand over the pearls?” she questioned anxiously. “Don’t tell me you don’t have them.”
“And don’t pretend to me that you don’t know I no longer have them,” he said, louder than he intended, but the feeling that she could have betrayed him in such a manner had hit him like nothing else ever had and his anger burned hot. “Innocence is not looking very good on you right now.”
“Please keep your voice down before someone hears you, and tell me what is wrong. Are the pearls missing?”
A grim chuckle passed his lips. “Not simply missing, Susannah, stolen. I’m finding it hard to believe right now that you don’t know the pearls were taken last night while you had me all wrapped up in your arms and in your bed.”
