satisfy him.
His gaze grew heated and he lifted her hand to his cheek. The rough edge of his face needled her fingers. ‘Did I share your bed?’
She fumbled for a lie, anything to keep him from touching her. ‘You left me a week after our wedding. We—we never consummated the marriage.’
‘Then it will be easy to get an annulment.’ He lifted her palm across his lips, and she fought the protests rising.
A razor of hurt slashed at her heart. She’d given herself to him, and he’d forgotten about it. The most wonderful night of her life had meant nothing to him.
‘Unless you want to share a bed with me?’ His dark voice grew compelling, seductive.
Emily closed her eyes to gather her composure. She hated the way her body came alive, the way she wanted his embrace. His mouth, hot and urgent, had haunted her ever since their wedding night. And she was deathly afraid that she would succumb to his desires.
‘If you have need of a woman, you can go to your mistress,’ she said. The very thought of the unknown woman infuriated her, for it brought back memories of Daniel’s death.
‘I’ve already told you. I don’t have one. Patricia and I haven’t been together since last autumn. And why would I need a mistress when I have a wife?’
She wavered, unsure of whether to believe him. But even if he hadn’t been with his mistress, she wasn’t about to share his bed again. Not if he was going to leave her.
‘I won’t be a wife to you. You’ll have to force me first.’
His grey eyes hardened like the barrel of a gun. ‘I would never force a woman.’ There was fury in his gaze, and Emily struggled to remain rooted where she was.
Stephen reached out and, with a single finger, brushed the tip of her breast. Instantly, her nipple hardened beneath the cold fabric. He used his finger to toy with the cockled nub and a hot aching grew, deep inside her womanhood. Her breath shuddered as he rubbed excruciating circles of heat.
Memories of loving him came flooding back. Her hands fell upon his shoulders, reaching for him.
Then abruptly he drew away. Emily could hardly breathe, her body completely aroused by just a single touch.
‘Goodnight.’ Stephen turned and walked away, leaving her behind.
She wanted to cry out in frustration, but she knew he had done it deliberately. He had intended to stimulate her senses, to make her beg him for more.
She was made of stronger stuff than the Earl could ever imagine. Let him try to make her feel passion. She would never forget the way he’d abandoned her and Daniel.
Never would she let him close to her again.
Stephen avoided Emily over the next week, only offering brief conversation now and then. They slept in separate bedrooms, and he was careful not to spend too much time with her. It would be easier to send her back, if they remained distant to one another.
But then the proof of his marriage arrived.
That morning, Stephen read the letter at least seven times, still in disbelief. Married. It was irrevocably true, every word that she’d said.
His father had invited him to a late breakfast, and Stephen brought the letter with him to Rothburne House. He picked at the toast and jam, his mind spinning.
He and Emily had wed in mid-February, a few miles past Gretna Green. His messenger had verified that he had seen the marriage recorded. Emily possessed a copy of the certificate, which she’d shown him earlier in the week. Everything was in order.
And yet he felt uneasy.
It opened up even more questions that begged for answers. Why had he married her? Had he wanted to protect her? Had he cared for her? Or had it simply been an act of defiance against his father?
There was no doubt she fired his blood, but could there have been more between them? Each time he tried to reach back, the memories of her remained clouded. Only events from ten years ago came to mind.
Emily, climbing a tree, laughing when he’d tumbled from a branch. Her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, dry leaves tangled in the ends.
The way she’d felt in his arms, so many years ago. Those memories were easy to grasp while the new ones remained veiled.
He re-read the letter another time before his younger brother entered the dining room. Though they looked alike with a similar build, Quentin’s hair had a touch of auburn in it. His brother also tended to wear more flamboyant clothing, today’s selection being a bottle-green frock-coat with a tartan waistcoat and tan trousers.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Quentin said, by way of greeting. ‘Mother said you’d returned.’
‘Father invited me for breakfast. I suppose he’s planning another lecture. He mistakenly believes that I haven’t aged beyond the tender years of six.’
‘At least you have another place to live.’ Quentin’s face tightened with distaste.
Stephen sensed the trouble behind his brother’s words. ‘In other words, you have no money.’
‘Not a bean.’
The last time he’d seen his brother, Quentin had been sent away to Thropshire, one of the lesser estates. When was it? He struggled to think.
January. It had been the end of January when Quentin had gone. Another piece snapped into place, granting him a brief sense of satisfaction.
‘When did Father allow you to come home?’ Stephen asked. Quentin’s spending habits had always been a source of contention, and the Marquess had removed his youngest son from temptation’s way.
‘Two days ago.’ Quentin helped himself to shirred eggs garnished with mushrooms. He added a large slice of ham to the plate. ‘But you’re the black sheep now, aren’t you?’
‘As it would seem. You heard nothing of my marriage, I take it?’
‘Not a word.’ Quentin set across from him and dived into the food. ‘But it won’t be long before all of London knows.’
Stephen picked at his own plate, finding it difficult to concentrate. It should have been easy, sliding back into his old life here. Instead, the void of memories distracted him. So much had changed in just a few short months.
‘What about Hannah? Is she still off at school?’ He hadn’t seen his sixteen-year-old sister since last winter.
‘She is. Mother is already scheming potential matches for her.’
The idea of any man laying hands upon his innocent sister appalled him. ‘Hannah isn’t old enough for that sort of thing. She hasn’t even had her first Season.’
‘Our mother has great plans, don’t you know. She’s still upset that you didn’t let her mastermind your own marriage.’
Stephen grimaced at the thought.
