Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love. Elizabeth Rolls
ran impatient fingers through his hair, clear evidence of a troubled mind. ‘I discovered from Josephine, shortly after we arrived here, it’s strongly rumoured that Louis XVIII has fled and Napoleon is now back in the capital. If it’s true, then I very much fear our country will once again be at war, so it’s imperative we get back to England as swiftly as possible. Josephine very kindly agreed to accompany me to the coast, where she made contact with a friend of hers who subsequently agreed to take us back across the Channel tomorrow.’
If this was meant to appease her it fell far short of the mark, for she had already learned of this earlier from her hostess during dinner. All the same, Katherine was fair-minded enough to appreciate fully his reasons for not wishing her to accompany them. She could not have been of any use whatsoever, whereas Josephine had proved of immeasurable help. Furthermore, if there still happened to be those out scouring the countryside in search of them, and there was every reason to suppose that there might be, Daniel wouldn’t have wished to put his good friend’s life in jeopardy by being seen in their joint company. And neither would Katherine herself, come to that!
Amazingly enough Katherine couldn’t help but feel a deal of respect for a woman who had suffered so much and yet had managed to withstand all the cruel blows life had dealt her. Despite the fact that the means by which Josephine was attempting to build a new life for herself, whereby one day she would be able to enjoy a comfortable and quiet existence in a modest house overlooking the Seine, could not but appal any virtuous young female with the least sensibility, Katherine couldn’t find it within herself to condemn the woman for making use of the experience which she had been forced to acquire during her turbulent marriage.
Nevertheless, she retained a deal of resentment towards the being who had seen fit to place her in the hands of a brothel-keeper, no matter how certain he had been that the greatest care would be taken of her. Surely he must have known her every feeling must be outraged? Or was it, perhaps, that he had considered her so naïve, such a ninnyhammer, that she would never suspect for a moment that she had been lodged in a house of ill repute?
Perversely, this very real possibility annoyed her more than all the rest, and she began to pace the room, striving to control her rising ire, and resist the very great temptation to hurl the hairbrush still clasped in her hand in the general direction of his head.
Daniel, watching her closely, was not slow to note the tense set of the perfectly proportioned, slender frame, nor the dangerous glint in those gorgeous eyes, before she had turned away to begin her angry pacing. Understandably, she was deeply offended, and not just mildly resentful too at being brought to such a place. But what other choice had been open to him?
Had she but known it, he had suffered the gravest misgivings, and even though his friend had assured him that every care would be taken, and Katherine would be safely placed in that totally private part of the building, where only Josephine’s closest friends were ever invited to enter, he hadn’t known one moment’s peace throughout the entire time he had been away.
‘Oh, come now, Kate, be fair,’ he urged, in a voice clearly laced with exasperation. He was tired after the many tasks he had been obliged to perform that day. He had not eaten a morsel since breakfast, and if the truth were known he was not in the best possible humour himself. ‘It isn’t like you to be missish. Do you think I would have brought you to this place if I’d any other choice? I couldn’t take you to one of the inns, and risk your being noticed. That hair of yours is an absolute bane on occasions. But at least I’ve managed to overcome that particular problem for the remainder of our travels. I had the forethought to acquire a hat.’
No response was forthcoming, and he began to grasp at straws. ‘Look on the bright side, sweetheart. Your situation could be a devil of a lot worse.’
This pronouncement was sufficient to stop Katherine in her tracks. She swung round to look directly at him, wondering whether she had misheard or he had taken complete leave of his senses.
‘Worse …? Worse!’ she echoed, regarding him in a mixture of outrage and disbelief. ‘How in the name of heaven, you blockhead, could my situation possibly be any worse? Behind me lurks Napoleon, no doubt amassing an army as we speak. Awaiting me across the Channel is a traitorous wretch bent on putting a period to my very existence. And I’m stuck here in a Normandy brothel with the … with the most notorious rake ever to hail from the county of Dorsetshire!’ She raised her eyes ceilingwards, as though seeking divine guidance there. ‘Ye gods! How the deuce could my situation possibly be any worse?’
The grasp Daniel had managed to maintain over his mounting exasperation finally snapped. ‘You damnable little virago!’ he growled back at her, raising clenched fists to the whitewashed plasterwork above his own head. ‘I’ll teach you to maintain a guard on that viperous tongue of yours if it’s the last thing I do!’
Only by the execution of some swift, side-stepping footwork did Katherine neatly avoid the long-fingered hand reaching out to grasp her arm. Daniel proved equally nimble in avoiding the hairbrush that she could no longer resist hurling in his direction a moment later, and which went harmlessly sailing past his left ear to hit the wall, narrowly missing the window. His growling threat of immediate reprisals sounded frighteningly sincere, for all that Katherine could clearly detect a slight tremor in his voice, though whether from laughter or anger she would have been hard pressed to say. And she wasn’t about to wait around to find out either!
The room which only minutes before had seemed wonderfully spacious appeared to have shrunk alarmingly, with the Major looming large and threatening within its walls. Her only means of escape was the door and she didn’t waste a precious moment in making a beeline for it. She was within a yard or two of grasping the handle, when her toes became entwined in the hem of the negligee, and only the strong muscular arm that snared her waist saved her from falling. The next moment she was lifted quite off her feet, and before she could so much as cry out in protest, she had been tossed carelessly down on the four-poster bed.
The two hundred pounds of solid bone and muscle that were swiftly lying half on top of her, not to mention the one strong hand effortlessly holding both her wrists captive above her head, made any attempt at escape rather futile. Torn between indignation and amusement, she stared up into dark eyes brightened by a gleam that was no less predatory than the grin which hovered about that shapely mouth only inches above her own.
‘Let me go at once, you great ox!’ she demanded, nowhere near ready to admit defeat, nor reticent to continue doing battle with the only weapon left to her.
‘Certainly, when you’ve apologised for your appalling behaviour,’ he responded, with all the smug satisfaction of someone who knew he had the upper hand.
‘My behaviour …?’ Incredulity succeeded in stilling her tongue for all of five seconds. ‘Fagh! That’s rich, coming from you!’
One dark brow quirked. ‘Are you going to apologise, young lady?’
‘Never!’ she avowed, stubborn to the last.
‘I was hoping that would be your answer,’ he surprised her by announcing before lowering his head, and masterfully preventing the unflattering string of epithets rising in her throat from passing her lips.
The instant his mouth touched hers, Katherine’s defences crumpled, and she found surrender far too sweetly satisfying even to contemplate a resumption of hostilities. Something lurking somewhere in the deep recesses of her brain was desperately striving to peal out a warning, but the chime was too indistinct and too swiftly silenced by the demands of a body aroused by that wholly masculine and intensely special touch.
Not one inch of her skin seemed immune to the wealth of sensations prickling through her as he removed his mouth from hers to trail his lips down the length of her neck to explore the hollows at the base of her throat. The instant the grasp about her wrists slackened, she raised her arms and wrapped them about him, eager to acquaint herself with the contours of a strong back and powerful shoulders. The guttural sound that instantly followed was no less satisfying than the demands of the mouth which once again captured hers, or the hand which stole beneath her to hold her so fast against him that her breasts both ached and tingled with pleasure at the hard