03 - The Wicked Lady Read online

"Yer impossible."

  "Look, it's going to be a long ride." He held up his hands in truce. "Maybe we'd better get some sleep," Trevor suggested as he stretched out his long legs in front of him, folded his arms across his chest, and shut his eyes.

  Kristen looked at her husband and sighed. Why did just the sight of the man start her blood racing? Why couldn't she ignore him as he could her? What she wouldn't give to be held in those strong arms and feel his strength as he held her. However, things had changed between them. They both blamed each other for what had happened, she realized, and until he realized the whole thing was his fault, they'd never be able to talk.

  Every night she'd been gone, she had dreamed of being with Trevor, and every night he had held her in her dreams and kissed her as if he truly loved her. What she wouldn't give for that love. She sighed again. The familiar tightness in her throat made her swallow hard. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She'd cried herself to sleep most nights with wanting him. It was painful enough wanting something she knew she could never have without humiliating herself, too. They didn't trust each other, and without trust and love, they didn't have anything.

  She rested her hands in her lap and leaned her head against the back of the velvet seat. Just as she drifted off to sleep, she decided she was miserable with Trevor and miserable without him. Someway, somehow, she was going to have to convince him that he needed her.

  But how?

  Always, the same question plagued her.

  The sound of the pelting rain finally lulled her to sleep. She'd just dozed off when the carriage hit something hard, jarring her fully awake again. Her first thoughts--they were being robbed again, and she didn't want another bullet hole in Trevor.

  Her gaze flew to her husband. "Is it bandits?"

  The carriage lurched to a stop, and Trevor glanced at her, but didn't comment. He slid across the seat and twisted the knob on the door. "I don't think so," he finally commented.

  He opened the door and stuck his head out. "What's the trouble, Herbert?"

  "I fear it's the wheel, Your Grace."

  Trevor slipped on his greatcoat before stepping out of the carriage. He pulled up the collar then went to examine the wheel with his driver. "Can it be fixed?"

  Herbert ran his hands over the spokes. "Believe so. But it will take awhile with it being dark and all. And this infernal rain won't help." Herbert stood shaking the water from his sleeves.

  "I see," Trevor said as he straightened. "How far is it to the Inn?"

  " 'Bout a mile."

  Trevor's head guard rode up beside the carriage. "John," Trevor addressed him. "Give me your horse, so I can take my wife to Wayweather's Inn. We'll spend the night, and you can come for us in the morning."

  "Yes, Your Grace." John dismounted and held the horse for Trevor.

  Trevor didn't have to open the door for Kristen because she was just putting her feet on the ground. She frowned as the mud sucked at her shoes. "What's wrong?"

  "We have a broken wheel," Trevor explained as he led the chestnut horse over to her, then swung up into the saddle. He extended his hand to Kristen. "We're going to the local Inn. Give me your hand."

  Kristen looked at him, hesitantly pulling her cape close around her. Was the mon crazy? She'd just spent the last two hours trying not to touch him and now he wanted her to ride a horse with him. "Only one horse?"

  "Yes," he replied stiffly. "Now give me your hand, or you can walk."

  She was definitely too tired to walk in this miserable weather, and she had a feeling that if she refused, Trevor would make her walk just to spite her. So she grabbed his arm and in one swift motion he lifted her in front of him in the saddle with his arms around her. Immediately, she straightened, trying not to touch him any more than she had to. She couldn't let him know how much she had longed to feel his arms around her, even if it was by necessity not desire.

  Trevor chuckled. "You should lean against me so you don't fall off."

  He was much too arrogant. "I'm just fine," she replied stubbornly.

  "Suit yourself," he said before he kicked the horse in the sides and they lunged forward.

  Twenty minutes later Kristen's back was aching from sitting stiffly upright, arms folded in front of her, but she was determined. The temptation to relax against him was growing more appealing with each jarring step the horse made. Suddenly, the horse stumbled and she had to grab Trevor to keep from falling.

  "You shouldn't be so obstinate," he whispered close to her ear and draped his cape around her.

  She decided to ignore the barb and let her head rest on his firm chest. He immediately tightened his arms around her, and she felt safe.

  God, she loved it when he held her!

  Kristen could hear his heart beating softly beneath her ear and found it comforting while they rode toward the inn.

  The lights shone softly from the Wayweather's Inn when they arrived. Trevor dismounted first, then reached up to help Kristen dismount. She felt every inch of her body slide down his muscular form, and it took her breath away. She almost forgot about the rain as she stared up at him.

  Thank God, a fat raindrop hit her in the eye, bringing her back to her senses. Why did she always have to respond to him this way? The bloody man was a curse.

  Trevor didn't say a word. And she couldn't read his thoughts. Did he feel anything? Hadn't he missed her just a little? Evidently not, because he dropped his arms and went into the inn, leaving her to follow him. She would be sure to treat him with the same indifference in the future, she thought, more than a little irritated.

  Just as Kristen stepped into the building, she heard him say, "That will be fine. We would like to have dinner, too."

  After removing their cloaks, they were shown to a table in a corner that had a low-burning oil lamp. Several other couples sat around a long table and were already eating. Kristen's stomach rumbled, and she was thankful Trevor had thought about food. It had been a long time since the picnic, and that made her think of Hagan. Was he having dinner or was he going to bed hungry?

  "Good thing I ordered some food, by the sounds of your stomach," Trevor commented as he sat down.

  "A gentleman wouldn't comment about such things."

  "Perhaps." He grinned and leaned forward. "I'm not a gentleman."

  She blushed, but ignored him. She was too tired to battle him with words at the moment. "I am hungry and tired," she admitted as she placed a napkin in her lap. " 'Tis been a trying day."

  "For once, we agree on something, madam."

  Kristen smiled at Trevor's lighter mood. They grew quiet when they were served a warm stew, fresh bread and ale. Kristen ate, but her mind was on Trevor, as usual. She wished things were back the way they used to be, but she didn't know how to fix their problems, and she didn't want to be hurt again.

  She peeked at Trevor, when she thought he wasn't paying attention, and marveled at how handsome he was. The light made the front of his hair a lighter color and softened his features. Yet, there was always that dangerous ruggedness about him, tugging on her and daring her to take a chance.

  "If you're finished with your meal, we can go upstairs," Trevor said, breaking into her thoughts... thank goodness because she didn't need to be drooling over him.

  "I am so tired," Kristen said. She stifled a yawn with her hand, then stood and placed her napkin on the table.

  "Then I imagine a bed will feel much better than my carriage," Trevor said as he guided her to the stairs.

  They climbed the stairs, Trevor's hand resting on the small of her back. They stopped at the first door on the right. Trevor inserted the key and opened the door, then stood back so Kristen could enter.

  The room was cozy, Kristen observed. There was a bed and a washstand and the covers had been turned back and looked very inviting. A chair sat in one corner and a screen for undressing stood in the other corner.

  " 'Tis nice," Kristen said, looking around the room for a second time. She heard a click as the door shut, and whi
rled around and looked at Trevor. "Where will ye be staying?"

  Trevor took off his coat and hung it on a peg by the door. "Right here."

  "Nay, ye cannot," Kristen protested, furious at her vulnerability to him.

  "Since I'm paying for the room, and you are my wife, I believe I can," he stated as he removed his waistcoat.

  "But--"

  "Christ, Kristen." Trevor swung around to look at her. "I don't like this any better than you do, but we are man and wife and they only had one bed available. The hour is late, and I'm not arguing any more tonight."

  He unbuttoned his shirt. "I suggest you take off your clothes and get into bed if you want to get some sleep. Or you are free to sleep on the floor." His gaze shifted from her eyes to her breasts. "I assure you your virtue is safe with me tonight," he said, looking very disgusted.

  He finished removing his fine linen shirt and followed it with his trousers. Kristen couldn't do anything but stare.

  Her anger cooled while she watched. She'd forgotten how much she liked looking at the man. And she knew if he touched her, she'd willingly fall into his arms. But she didn't want that until he could admit how he felt about her.

  This time she wanted his love or nothing at all.

  Trevor climbed into bed and blew out the candle, leaving Kristen staring into the darkness, wondering if it would be safe to climb into bed with the enemy.

  "You're going to get cold standing there in the dark, Kristen."

  "Yer impossible."

  "So you've said before. But, no, just practical," Trevor yawned. "Good night, Kristen."

  Kristen didn't budge. She waited what seemed like forever before she heard Trevor's deep breathing and knew he had fallen asleep. Then, very quietly, she slipped out of her clothes all the way down to her chemise and sneaked into her side of the bed.

  The sheets, warmed by Trevor's body, caressed her chilly skin. It felt good to stretch out and rest, but she made sure she stayed as far away from Trevor as she could. Not that she didn't trust him

  He evidently didn't care what she did. How else could he have fallen asleep so quickly? It was herself she didn't trust.

  "Damned mon," she mumbled, not knowing how she felt about him at this very moment. Every time she closed her eyes, she could remember the feel and warmth of his lips on hers as his arms tightened around her. He made her feel as if she were the only woman who mattered to him. She remembered the eager touch of his tongue on her lips just before she opened her mouth to match his passion. And then she remembered the pure lust that always overcame her like the heat of a roaring fire when they came together. She rolled and tumbled and tossed until she finally became so exhausted that she couldn't think anymore.

  Blissfully, sleep claimed her and she drifted off to that dream world where she made all the rules. And in that world Trevor reached out and pulled her to him. In that world, he held her and kept her safe from everything . . . even herself.

  Beautiful dreams, Kristen thought. At least, she had her dreams.

  The next morning, Kristen awoke feeling tired from tossing and turning through the night. She tried to move, but found Trevor's arm draped across her chest, preventing escape. Twisting to face him, it was all she could do not to lean over and kiss him. Instead she shook him. "Trevor, 'tis morning."

  Slowly his eyes opened, and he gazed at her in a most peculiar way. She held her breath as a lazy smile spread across his lips. She thought, for just a moment, that he was going to kiss her, but instead he rolled over and slipped out of the bed.

  She let her breath out in slow disappointment, all the while telling herself it was for the best. He'd shown her he didn't care, and she had to protect her heart.

  "Go ahead and get dressed," he ordered. "We need to get an early start."

  "And a good morning tae ye, too," she snapped. She gathered the sheet around herself and slipped out of the bed.

  Trevor crossed over to the window and looked out. Yes, I believe it will be a good morning."

  Kristen wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reply. She dressed quickly, but struggled with the last two hooks on the back of her gown. She had little choice but to ask Trevor for help. "Can ye fasten the hooks for me?" She presented her back to him and waited.

  He brushed her hair to the side and placed a kiss on her neck. Shivers of delight trembled through her and she squealed, causing Trevor to chuckle.

  Why had he done that when he'd been so cold just a few minutes before? He had an annoying habit of keeping her totally confused about his feelings and intentions.

  "Hold still," he said, as he fumbled with the tiny hooks.

  "Then dinna be fooling around," she warned.

  His warm fingers continued to make her skin tingle until he successfully fastened her gown.

  "Thank ye," she said, pushing her hair back in place. She promptly stepped away, putting some distance between them.

  "That's what husbands are for," he told her, opening the door.

  She couldn't help the half-smile she gave him. "I knew they were good for something," she murmured as she scurried past him and hurried downstairs.

  The rain had stopped. A bright morning sun shone with a radiant orange glow as they made their way outside. The carriage stood waiting for them, the horses prancing as they impatiently waited to be going. Once in the carriage, they wasted little time getting under way.

  Since Kristen had gotten very little sleep, the swaying of the carriage quickly lulled her to sleep. However, when she dozed off her leg would brush Trevor's and she'd jar herself awake, then doze off again.

  The next thing she realized, Trevor was shaking her awake. "We're here. Do you want to stay in the carriage or come into my office?"

  Kristen rubbed her eyes as she gazed out the window at a small brick building. "I'll go with ye. My legs are cramped and stiff, and it will do me good tae stretch them out."

  Kristen was surprised at how small the office was compared to all the other places that Trevor owned. When she commented on the fact, Trevor explained that they didn't need much room.

  A small gentleman sat behind a desk. He was bent over a large book, which he was writing in as they entered. He looked up. "Good day, Your Grace. I did not expect you."

  "This is an unplanned trip, I'm afraid," Trevor said, then motioned to Kristen. "James, this is my wife."

  "Nice to meet you, mum." He nodded his head toward her, his spectacles sliding further down his nose.

  Trevor stopped in front of James's desk. "Have you seen the man who came here the last time I was in London?"

  "No, Your Grace. I believe the bloke was too scared to show his face around here again."

  Trevor muttered a curse. "Now I will have to track the scoundrel down!" He nodded to James, then turned to Kristen and said, "I'll be only a moment, Kristen." Trevor strode past her and ducked into one of the back rooms.

  James squirmed in his chair as if he felt he needed to talk to her. Finally, he laid down his quill and folded his hands on the table before he said, "The man His Grace spoke of, had some nerve asking him for money." James shook his head and looked over his spectacles at her. "I don't think I have ever seen His Grace so angry."

  "What did this mon look like?"

  As soon as James described the character, Kristen knew it had been her stepfather. So, Ned had gone to Trevor for more money! And Trevor had paid him. She wondered why. He'd had said before that he would never give Ned any more money. Could Trevor possibly have done it for her?

  "That's a fine husband you have, mum."

  "Thank you," Kristen said, wanting to ask a few more questions, but Trevor returned and prevented her from doing so.

  "We'll go to my town house," Trevor said.

  She felt momentary panic as her mind jumped. "But Hagan!" She had not come so far to be left at home.

  "I'm sending a dispatch out for help," Trevor said, his response holding a sour note of impatience. "We'll find him. But first I want to get you safely home." Not wait
ing for her to comment, he took her by the elbow and escorted her out of the office.

  Kristen didn't brother to argue. It was kind that he wanted to protect her. Did that mean he cared for her and didn't want to admit it? No matter. She was not going to sit at home while her brother was out on the streets. She would find Hagan herself if Trevor couldn't.

  Because Kristen Johnstone Claremont knew these streets better than anyone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Over the next several days, Kristen stayed behind while Trevor went out to search for Hagan. She felt much like a caged animal, and it killed her to be so passive and wait, but for once she was trying to listen to her husband.

  On the fifth day, Trevor came home extremely tired. There were shadows under his eyes, which hadn't been there before, and she knew then that he loved Hagan just as much as she did. Her heart tightened at the realization.

  That night, they ate dinner in silence. Kristen didn't like the uneasiness she sensed. What was Trevor thinking? Did he know something, but wasn't telling her?

  Soon dinner was over, and they retired to the library where tea was served. She noticed Trevor hadn't indulged in spirits since she'd returned, and she sure hoped he wouldn't. But when he withdrew like this, she became nervous. She still remembered the last time he'd become drunk much too well.

  Trevor sat in a chair, his shoulders slightly slumped. He stared down at the brown liquid as if it held some dark secretes. He didn't seem to notice that she was even in the room.

  When Kristen couldn't stand the silence any longer, she demanded, "Tell me what's wrong!"

  He looked up at her and blinked a couple of times before he spoke. "I thought we'd have turned up something by now," he admitted as he shook his head with regret. "I hate to think of Hagan out on those streets with that leech."

  "I do, too." She shuddered inwardly at the thought. "He's so young."

  "I know." Trevor stood, then went to the window, and stared out into the darkness as if he were searching for answers. His shoulders were rounded and his head bent.

  Kristen had never seen him so helpless and sad. Without thinking she got up, and went to him, placing her hand on his arm. "We'll find Hagan," she assured Trevor in a choked voice, wanting to ease his hurt. "Ye just haven't looked in the right places." She hesitated. "I appreciate ye helping me," she added softly next to his ear.