~ Amberley ~

by

B. L. Dodson

Magdalen shivered, though it was not only because of the slight chill in the late evening air. She was intensely aware of Lord Amberley facing her in the enclosed landau, but she didn’t dare look at him for fear of meeting his eyes and betraying the strong effect he had on her. Instead she focused her gaze through the window, trying to give the appearance of a calm she was far from feeling. Overhead the stars, thickly clustered, hung so low they seemed to be strung through the treetops by invisible threads.

"You’re very quiet, Miss Morland," he observed as they turned onto the main road. "I expected you to be brimming over with girlish enthusiasm."

Immediately she cast a wary look at him. "Did you really?" she replied, wondering how he could imagine such a thing after what had happened tonight. Perhaps he was just being perverse.

"I observed you did not lack for partners," he went on easily. "That is usually the main ingredient of a young lady’s enjoyment."

"Forgive me if I am unable to take as light a view of things as you do," she returned evenly, "but unfortunately I cannot put aside your cousin’s feelings and think only of my own enjoyment."

"Surely you didn’t take him seriously."

She looked at him in amazement, but it was too dark inside the carriage to make out his expression. "You must have taken him seriously to have ordered him to leave Amberley."

"I have known Geoffrey all his life, while you have been acquainted with him only a few short weeks," he replied in an unruffled tone, as if that were explanation enough. "He has always been prone to impulsive action. He will forget about this soon enough."

"But that hardly explains why you demanded that he leave."

"I needn’t give you a reason. I am not responsible for Geoffrey, nor am I under any obligation to provide a home for him."

"That is a curious response indeed! I was under the impression you took an inordinate amount of control over his life."

He paused before saying dryly, "You seem determined to provoke me, Miss Morland."

"Not at all. I am simply trying to understand your motives for treating your cousin in such an unkind manner."

"My motives are none of your concern, though perhaps you might call them selfish."

"Selfish, my lord?"

"Perhaps I want to keep you at Amberley. You have become very useful to me."

Feeling her anger rise again at his intolerable arrogance, she asked tersely, "And is that your only reason?"

"I don’t know, I have not taken the trouble to look for others."

Magdalen gripped the edge of her seat, trying to stem the tide of outrage and resentment that threatened to erupt if she wasn’t careful. She had to remember that he was her employer and he could do as he liked, regardless of her opinion. But her emotions were in such a muddle--she was uncomfortably aware that beneath her prideful anger lay a dangerous attraction to this man.

The landau bounced and swayed down the gravel road too rapidly for her comfort, but she resisted asking him to tell Dixon to slow the horses. She sat in stony silence, thinking that the less time she would have to endure in his company the better.

"Have I offended you, Miss Morland?" he asked. "I believed you would be pleased that I have come to depend upon you."

"As you were in no danger of losing me, I fail to see why it was necessary to force your cousin to leave Amberley."

"Your championship of Geoffrey is very touching, but would you really have preferred that he remain?" His voice carried a harsh rebuke. "How comfortable do you think it would have been for either of you to live under the same roof after what occurred between you tonight?"

The darkness still hid his face, but she didn’t need illumination to know that he was watching her closely. She had to admit that he was right, but she would rather not tell him so.

"What persuaded you to change your mind and come this evening?" she asked at length, deliberately turning the tables. "I thought you had no interest in such frivolities."

"Did you not hear the answer I gave Pamela?"

"It was just a whim of yours then." Her tone conveyed a certain skepticism.

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing." How could she tell him her suspicion that he had come to prevent his cousin from making such an unsuitable match? After all, he couldn’t have known for certain that she would not accept Geoffrey.

"Explain yourself," he ordered. "I won’t be fobbed off with such an insubstantial reply after you have hinted at much more."

"You mistake me, my lord--" Magdalen protested, when suddenly the carriage wheels dipped dangerously low, hitting a hole in the road full force. There was a tremendous lurch and she cried out as she was thrown violently from her seat. The breath was knocked from her lungs, and at the moment when she would have tumbled head first to the floor, a pair of strong hands reached out to grasp her shoulders, not letting go even after the wheels had righted themselves and they were on level ground again.

Before she had time to consider what was happening, she felt herself pulled to the other side of the carriage and hauled into the circle of Lord Amberley’s arms, his hard thighs making brutal contact with her unsteady legs as he settled her in his lap. She had a glimpse of glittering dark eyes boring into hers before his head descended swiftly and his mouth closed over hers, the pressure of his hands increasing to bring her closer to him.

Her mind reeled from the utter shock of his embrace and instinctively she wrenched her lips from his, her fists pushing ineffectually against the granite wall of his chest. He frightened her, this man who always held himself in such iron control, and when his grip tightened in response to her bewildered struggle, she cried out.

"Hush," he whispered, his warm fingers stroking the bare skin of her neck, calming her. "Hush." His voice was tender, like a lover’s caress, completely unlike the tone she was accustomed to hearing from him.

"No, you mustn’t! No…" She averted her face, her heart pounding painfully, as if it would burst from her body. She remembered another encounter with a different man, a man whose very memory made her shiver in abhorrence. But somehow this was different, and if she were honest with herself, not entirely unwelcome.

Warm lips touched the curve of her neck, bestowing a soft kiss there. The blood sped like wildfire through her body, warning her to slap him, punch him, kick at his shins. But she found she was unable to move. Another kiss touched her forehead, then her cheek.

"Come, kiss me," he commanded, though his fingers were gentle as they turned her face to his.

Was it the seductive power of his voice or something else? She didn’t know, but it didn’t seem to matter any more. Though her brain sounded the alarm that it was foolhardy, even dangerous to remain in his arms, she wanted to stay just where she was. And when he bent toward her, seeking her lips again, she didn’t pull away, not even when the hardening demand of his kiss parted her lips.

Yet it was impossible to comprehend that it was Lord Amberley, her employer, who held her in his arms! It would have been far easier to imagine a complete stranger taking her like this, holding her so intimately, with warm fingertips resting against the hollow of her throat. But he was a stranger to her, a dark, inscrutable stranger whom she hadn’t begun to understand.