Gail Whitiker - Revenge In Regency Society

‘I fear the task of continuing the Parker name will fall to a distant cousin with whom I am not acquainted,’ Barrington said blandly. ‘As to the obligation owed, I am more concerned with the welfare of the lady with whom I might wish to spend my life than I am to the furthering of my ancestral line.’

‘Then I would have to say you are unique in your thinking,’ Anna said. ‘Most society gentlemen are concerned with their family name and marry to beget an heir.’

‘Yes, but you should know by now that my life is not that of a typical society gentleman. My reputation is such that people come to me when they wish to learn things about others. And because I ask questions people have no wish to be asked, I continuously put myself at risk.’

‘Surely you exaggerate the danger.’

‘I do not.’ His smile held secrets she could not begin to imagine. ‘The people I usually investigate are not the honourable men you meet in society, Lady Annabelle. They are scoundrels and blackmailers, men who operate beyond the boundaries of the law and who are completely without conscience. When I get too close, they get nervous. And when I convict them, they look for retribution.’

‘But surely not of a life-threatening kind!’

He shrugged, as though trying to make light of it. ‘There have been attempts on my life in the past and I have no reason to believe there will not be attempts in the future. The easiest way to ensure my silence is to eliminate the possibility of my saying anything at all. That said, I will not knowingly put anyone else in danger.’

‘But if these men have issues with you, why should you fear for the safety of those close to you?’

‘Because there is no better way to strike back at me than to hurt someone I care about.’ They had walked, by tacit agreement, onto the balcony. Barrington rested his arms against the stone balustrade and stared down into the garden. ‘And who could be dearer to me than the woman to whom I would give my name … and my heart.’

Anna felt her mouth go dry. Strange that the breeze should suddenly feel so cool. Was her body overly warm? They were standing quite close; close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. ‘So you would choose to live … without a woman to share your life,’ she whispered, ‘rather than expose your wife to possible harm?’

‘In a heartbeat.’ He turned his head so that his eyes bored into hers. ‘How could I say I loved someone if I didn’t care about their safety? If the thought of something happening to them didn’t tear me apart?’

Anna shivered. ‘You could give up what you’re doing. You are a gentleman. You have no need to work.’

‘And what would I do with myself then?’ He reached out and took her hand in his. ‘I have servants to run my estate and stewards and secretaries to see to my affairs. But a man must have something of his own or what reason has he for getting up each day?’

As he spoke, his fingers caressed the palm of her hand, smoothing the tender skin at the base of her wrist. His touch was light, non-threatening—and it turned Anna’s world upside down.

She closed her eyes, the sounds of the room beyond fading into the distance. She knew she should pull her hand free, but she was neither willing nor anxious to do so. His thumb was painting circles on her skin, lulling her with a touch.

‘We get up because … that is what the world expects of us,’ she said huskily. Dear Lord, what was he doing? Not content with massaging her palm and wrist, his thumb was continuing its treacherous voyage along the inside of her arm, causing disturbing quakes in her sanity. ‘Surely there is … a kind of security, perhaps even of comfort, in the carrying out of our daily task?’

‘Ah, but there are far sweeter pleasures to be enjoyed than that, my lady,’ Barrington murmured as he brushed the back of his free hand against her cheek. ‘The smoothness of a woman’s skin, the softness of her hair.’ He gently twined a lock around his finger and held it to his face, inhaling the delicate fragrance. ‘Finer than silk and more precious than gold.’ Then, releasing it, he gently grasped her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up. ‘Last but not least, the sweetness of her lips …’

Anna had been kissed before … but never like this. Never by a man whose touch was enough to make her long to release her tenuous hold on respectability. His mouth moved over hers slowly, thoughtfully, shattering her resolve and filling her with a desperate need to be loved. Surely she deserved this. Surely, after everything she’d been through, she was entitled to some small measure of love and affection for herself?

As he deepened the kiss, Anna raised her arms, twining them around his neck, wanting to be close and then closer still. His tongue teased her lips apart and heat poured through her body, flowing like molten fire through her veins. She moaned, feeling desire rise and want settle low in her belly. Ah, the sweet, sweet pleasure …

But the pleasure was bittersweet. Even as his arms tightened around her, Anna knew it could come to nothing. Barrington had no intention of marrying. He’d just told her as much. And if he wasn’t willing to offer marriage, what they were doing now was not only wrong, it was self-destructive. She wanted more from him. Much more than he was willing to give. And in the end, she would be the one who walked away with her heart in ruins. And therein lay the true sadness of the situation. The one man with whom she could have foreseen a future was the one man with whom it would never be.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ she whispered, breaking free of his arms.

‘Anna, what’s wrong?’ he asked huskily.

‘What’s wrong? I’m wrong,’ she whispered. ‘This is wrong. Because right now, I’m no better than the foolish young women whose reputations I fight to protect.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘Is it? You just told me you have no intention of marrying, yet I allowed myself to be held in your arms and kissed like any cheap whore. What is that if not the height of stupidity?’

Anna flung at him. ‘At least Mercy Banks was hopeful of a marriage resulting from her liaison with Lieutenant Blokker! You’ve made it clear there is no such happy ending in sight.’

His face darkened, his breathing heavy and uneven. ‘I said that because I don’t want you harbouring false hope. But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.’

‘And is that supposed to make me feel better? Am I supposed to be comforted by the knowledge that you desire me, yet have no intention of offering marriage?’ Anna shook her head. ‘There is a word for that kind of relationship, Sir Barrington, and it is not flattering.’

‘It was never my intention to compromise you, Anna,’ he said quietly. ‘I care too much for you.’

‘My name is Lady Annabelle. And if you care so much for me, leave me alone!’

Without waiting for his answer, Anna picked up her skirts and fled. Angry tears blurred her vision as she ran down the length of the balcony. Idiot! She’d made a fool of herself again, allowing herself to be held and kissed as though she were a naïve young schoolgirl. She, who prided herself on knowing all the games and all the excuses, had let herself be taken in. And by doing so, Barrington had undermined everything she believed in. When she had allowed him to kiss her, she had wanted to believe that it meant something. But it was obvious to anyone with an iota of sense that it meant absolutely nothing. Sophisticated Barrington might be, but he was still a man, and when it came right down to it, he wanted the same thing as every other man. Pleasure without commitment. Love without obligation. The very things she kept warning her young ladies to avoid.