Catherine Archer - The Bride Of Spring

Raine seemed to hesitate, her gaze uncertain as it met his. Then she put out her hand. Those long slender fingers felt delicate in his, and he wondered at their coldness even as their touch brought a compelling warmth to his own body, brought thoughts of how they would feel against his heated flesh. He found it hard to concentrate on her words as she said, “Thank you, my lord.” Benedict realized that, in spite of telling himself that an attraction to Raine was completely unsuitable, he seemed unable to control his reaction to her as he wished to.

Once she was standing he released her.

Benedict was relieved that Raine did not seem to note his reluctance to touch her. Appearing quite preoccupied, she fell into step with him as they left the hall.

Benedict felt slightly and unexplainably perturbed by her lack of attention. He told himself that it was very likely brought on by her concern over a possible confrontation with her cousin. That eventuality was, he reminded himself, why he was accompanying her.

He had already established the fact that he was not interested in this far too chaotic young woman. There were no more words exchanged between them until they actually arrived outside a door in a narrow hallway quite some distance from the main part of the castle.

Raine hesitated as she reached for the latch, then peered up at him, biting her lower lip. “I thank you so very much for your kindness. I would ask just one more moment of your time, if I may, to ascertain that my cousin is not within.”

Benedict could not mistake her anxiety and was moved by it. Devil take any man who thought to force himself upon a woman. His own ward, Genevieve, had barely escaped such a situation at the hands of her own cousin, who happened to be Maxim Harcourt. Benedict could not mourn the man’s death even though it had brought more troubles.

He had no sympathy for those who preyed upon others, and this Denley Trent was no exception. Deliberately Benedict shrugged, attempting to keep both his manner and tone unconcerned in aid of soothing Raine’s fear. “I do not mind. One more moment will make no great difference to me.”

She nodded with relief, but he saw that her hand was trembling as she reached for the latch.

Raine took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The sight that met her gaze could not have been better geared to the satisfaction of her plans.

For there in a chair pulled close to the fire was none other than her cousin Denley. He could not have been more obliging had he tried, though she had made no effort to get him here. Surely she was doing the right thing. It was all falling into place. She nearly sighed aloud in relief as she turned to Benedict Ainsworth. “You see, my lord. He will not leave me be.”

Benedict frowned with unmistakable anger as he addressed the other man. “Have you gone mad that you cannot heed this lady’s request to cease in your pursuit?”

Denley lumbered to his feet with a gasp of outrage. “How dare you, sir? You know nothing of this situation.”

“I know that she has made her wishes quite clear, and that is all I need to know.”

Driven beyond caution, Denley moved to stand before Benedict with balled fists. “Is it possible that you wish to have her for yourself? I must tell you that I will not sit idly by and allow you to dishonor my cousin.”

Benedict Ainsworth’s black brows arched in amazement. “You will not sit idly by and allow me to dishonor her, sirrah! Have you no sense whatsoever?”

Denley faced him without flinching. “You heard me.”

Suddenly Benedict’s expression took on a new and deadly seriousness that caused Raine to shiver in spite of the fact that it was not directed toward her. “I have afforded you all the patience I possess. I now suggest that you leave this chamber and do not, unless she give permission, ever speak to this woman again.”

Raine watched with horror as Denley swung one large fist. A heartbeat later she realized that she need not have worried. Though he was nearly of a size with Benedict Ainsworth, he was not nearly as agile nor as strong.

The black-haired man caught her cousin’s hand in his own. Denley’s gaze widened in shock for a brief moment before he jerked away. He lifted his fist again.

Benedict did not raise his voice, but there was cold hard steel in it. “Do not.”

Denley hesitated and in that instant lost any hope of following through. He turned and stumbled from the room, obviously not having the courage to face the other man. Raine’s lips thinned. Her cousin was the kind who only had the nerve to browbeat women and children. Or perhaps he would have withstood a lesser man than Benedict Ainsworth.

Her gaze swung to Benedict who stood staring at the open portal with a frown. Indeed, she had chosen well in him. Never had she imagined that there would be an actual confrontation with Denley this night, but it had proved to her that Ainsworth did have both the mental and the physical strength to protect William.

Quickly Raine went and closed the door. She could not allow him to leave.

Her gaze flew to the pitcher on the table, the two glasses, which, thankfully, had remained untouched by her cousin. Aida had known when she set them out that only one of the glasses would ever be used.

Did Raine have the courage to follow through? She did, because she must. Denley’s presence in her chamber this night had convinced her of that.

Raine went forward and poured some of the wine into one of the cups, then moved to Benedict’s side. He looked down at her, his gaze taking in the offered wine. “Nay, I should be on my way now.”

Raine spoke too hurriedly. “Please, do not go yet, my lord.” She glanced toward the closed door. “I…my cousin might return and I would not be here alone.”

Her fear seemed to affect him, for he said, “I will remain for a moment longer, just until you feel safer. But I do not think he will return this night, and you must remember to bolt the door when I am gone.”

She nodded vigorously, anything to get him to drink the wine before she lost her nerve. “I will do so.”

Raine watched with horrified fascination as he took the cup from her hand, raised it to his mouth and drank. A silent but heavy sigh escaped her heart.

It was done.

She was set on this course now, could do nothing to stop it. Once Benedict had fallen under the influence of the sleeping potion she would have no way of getting him from her chamber without bringing attention to them and thus the consequences of their being alone and unattended.

She felt both relief and regret when he said, “The wine is very sweet. Are you not having any?”

Raine shook her head. “Nay, not this night.”

He seemed little interested in her reply as he looked toward the door, clearly eager to be away. But Raine was no longer anxious on that score. She need delay him for only a few more moments now. He would soon be unconscious. Aida knew how much to give, being quite skilled in the art of herbal medicine. “Would you care to sit for a moment?”

He shook his head as if it were feeling very heavy. “Nay, I must…” His gaze seemed to focus on her briefly and he whispered, “You are so very…lovely….”

The words sent a strange tingling through her. She closed her eyes, telling herself that she must keep her mind centered on the work at hand. The drug had made him fanciful. She could not allow herself to think of this man as anything but a means to an end.

She took a deep, calming breath and with it a sort of fog seemed to descend upon her, a fog of unreality and numbness. It was through this fog that she saw Benedict’s gaze widen in confusion, saw him put his hand to his head, saw him stumble and drop the cup to the floor.

He tried to focus on her again. “What…?”