Chapter Three
H enrietta could not sleep. She had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. No reply had come from her cousin. Had he read the missive Landon sent to his estate? Why had he not responded? Did he trust Landon so implicitly? Even if he did, surely he must realize that her lack of a chaperone would lead to her ruination. Or perhaps being in Scotland had altered his sensibilities. Did he truly believe that no one in London would discover the time she had spent alone with Landon at Rosebery?
She sighed.
Worrying solved nothing, but it was impossible to quiet her thoughts. Worse still, she could not entirely ignore the fact that she did not wish to leave Rosebery. The castle might be drafty, as Landon had warned, yet it was also enchanting, just as he had promised. Its charm had grown on her. But it wasn’t only the castle; it was its brooding yet captivating master. Landon was far too irresistible, far too handsome. She was drawn to him in ways she had never imagined possible. Henrietta had long believed herself incapable of such emotions.
She had endured several Seasons without so much as a flicker of interest in the countless gentlemen who had sought her hand. As the daughter of a duke, she had no shortage of suitors. Her dowry alone was enough to draw fortune hunters, though they weren’t the only men vying for her favor. She was not vain, but she was aware of her appeal: golden-blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a figure considered enviable.
Yet none of it mattered. She wanted more than to be a gentleman’s decorative possession, a trinket to bolster his status in Society’s esteem. She wanted love, and she could not pinpoint why exactly, but she thought perhaps, much to her astonishment, she could have that with Landon.
He treated her differently than other gentlemen. He did not seek to place her on a pedestal or admire her from a distance. With him, there would be no cold, indifferent marriage. Landon would want her by his side, always. She imagined that life with him would burn with passion, not languish in frigid propriety.
Closing her eyes, she could almost envision what it would be like to be with him. Her body heated at the thought, and she flung off her blanket, frustration mounting. This was getting her absolutely nowhere.
Henrietta slipped out of bed and reached for her dressing robe. She tied the sash tightly and left her bedchamber, her destination clear: the library. Perhaps a book would distract her restless mind, redirecting it away from Landon.
Yet even as she resolved to read, a small, foolish part of her wished for him to seduce her. What madness was this? Such a thing would be ruinous. It would be a mistake so large she could never escape the ramifications of that potential disaster.
She had to leave Rosebery in the morning. If she stayed even a moment longer, she feared she would willingly tumble into his arms, and his bed—and that would lead only to regret. He had shown her kindness, but he had offered nothing more. He had not offered her anything except his aid after her carriage accident. She must not misinterpret his actions.
She should not be romanticizing this situation as if it were far more than it actually was, and she had to get all the silly fantasies out of her head once and for all.
The corridors were dim, but Henrietta moved with confidence, having explored the castle earlier in the day. When she reached the library, she hesitated at the door. She had expected darkness but found the room warmly illuminated. A fire blazed in the hearth, its light flickering against the walls. Several candles had been lit, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. For a moment, she thought the library itself had anticipated her arrival, welcoming her into its quiet embrace.
But no, the room was not empty.
A large figure sat in one of the leather chairs by the fire, engrossed in a book. Landon. He had not noticed her entrance.
She paused, taking the opportunity to study him. The firelight glinted off his auburn hair, bringing out golden strands she longed to touch. His strong features were softened in repose, but there was no denying his intensity. She wanted to lose herself in his deep-blue eyes, to close the distance between them.
Gathering her courage, Henrietta stepped forward. It wasn’t until she stood directly before him that he looked up. His gaze locked on to hers, and a slow, knowing smile curved his mouth.
“Ah, lass,” he said, his voice husky. “Did ye need something from me?”
Henrietta licked her lips, suddenly at a loss for words. Did she need something? Yes. Yes, she did. She needed him, with a desperation that both frightened and thrilled her. But how did one ask a gentleman to seduce her? This might be the gravest mistake of her life, yet she could not deny the pull she felt toward him. Some things were simply inevitable.
Her voice trembled as she said, “And if I do?”
“If it is within my power tae grant it,” he replied, “it will be yers. Just tell me what it is ye need, lass. I’ll see ye have it.”
This was everything she had never dared to dream of, and yet it was exactly what she had always wanted. Boldness surged within her, an unfamiliar but exhilarating sensation. She took another step closer, meeting his gaze head-on. “Kiss me,” she said, voice steady.
Landon blinked, startled. For a moment, he did not move, and doubt crept into her heart. Had she misjudged him? Had she made a terrible error? Panic welled within her as the silence stretched on. Surely she had not imagined his interest. She would expire from embarrassment if he turned away from her. But what if she had?
*
Landon must have been imagining things. Surely Henrietta had not just walked into the library and boldly asked him to kiss her? Her seduction could not possibly be so easily achieved. Shouldn’t she have been running in the opposite direction rather than strolling toward him with such apparent leisure?
His breath caught as he rose from the chair and pulled her into his embrace. If she truly desired a kiss, he would gladly oblige.
He cupped the back of her neck, leaning down to press his lips to hers. At first, the touch was soft and tentative, as he began to familiarize himself with her taste. But when she slid her arms around his neck, pressing her soft curves against him, a groan escaped him. Unable to resist, he deepened the kiss. When she opened her mouth to him, he slid his tongue into her warmth, and their tongues tangled as he was utterly consumed by her. His body responded immediately, hardening with desire. Landon wanted more than just a kiss—he wanted her, all of her. He ached to worship every inch of her body.
This was too much, too soon. He had never anticipated this. She was betrothed to his rival, and his original plan had been to seduce her. But Henrietta was proving to be far more than he had ever expected. She deserved better than to be used as a pawn in his feud with Grayfield.
And beyond that… He realized he cared for her. Deeply.
With immense effort, Landon drew back, lifting his mouth from hers. He ignored the raging desire to untie her dressing robe and explore her body further, despite the memory of her hardened nipples pressing against him. The temptation to take her to the heights of pleasure was nearly overpowering, but he had to stop. For her sake.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, breathless. “Kiss me again.”
Oh, how he wanted to. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to pull her back into his arms. But something—his conscience, perhaps—held him back. “You should return to yer bedchamber,” he murmured, his voice heavy with longing. “Ye doona deserve the likes of me.”
“Isn’t it up to me to decide that?” she countered, raising a brow. “I want you.”
Her words struck him like a blow. He closed his eyes and groaned. How easy it would be to carry her upstairs and claim her as his. But he could not allow that.
“Lass…” He was fast losing control, his resistance hanging by a thread. “Ye doona know me.”
Landon wanted to make her moan with pleasure so great she screamed his name as she climaxed. He wanted… Hell, he wanted her . It was as simple as that.
“I know enough,” she replied. “You came to my rescue when I needed it. You’ve been nothing but kind.” She licked her lips, and the sight nearly undid him. He clenched his fists, silently pleading for strength. “I want you. Isn’t that enough?”
“Nay,” he said firmly. “Ye doona understand what it is ye ask.”
“I think I do,” she said. Henrietta slid her hand up his chest, her fingers hovering dangerously close to his waist. If she ventured lower, she would discover just how much he desired her.
Before she could, he grasped her wrist, halting her. This was not how it was meant to be. How ironic that she was now the one seducing him when his intentions had been the reverse.
“Lass…” He shook his head, his mind racing. “Are ye not betrothed? Do ye think so little of the man ye are tae marry that ye would tarry with me? Or…are ye after a loftier title, thinking ye can secure it by lying with me?”
Her eyes widened, her expression a mixture of hurt and fury. Landon immediately regretted his words. He had gone too far.
“Who do you think I am?” she demanded.
“Are ye not tae wed the Earl of Grayfield?” he asked, though his certainty faltered under her piercing gaze.
Henrietta stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. She did not meet his eyes, and his heart sank. He had shamed her.
When she finally looked up, her blue eyes burned with intensity. “Do you think so little of me, then?”
“Nay,” he said quickly. “I think only the best of ye. That’s why I had tae stop. I am no’ a good man, and I willna have yer ruination laid at my feet.”
“I see,” she said, her tone resigned but still fiery. “You want me to preserve myself for my future husband. How noble of you.” She turned toward the door but paused, glancing back at him. “There is one thing I wish for you to know.”
“And what is that, lass?” he asked, his heart twisting.
“There could have been something between us,” she said, her gaze steady. “But you decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. Even if I were to marry Grayfield, the marriage is not yet complete. I am still unwed and free.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “And for the record, I was never meant to marry him. But your assumptions have destroyed everything we might have had. That is something you cannot undo.”
“I doona understand,” he said, the words catching in his throat.
“I don’t expect you to,” she replied softly. “You believe I am mercenary enough to desire your title. And yet I don’t even know what your title is. I have only ever known Landon—and that is the man I desired.” She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her. “But believe what you will. It seems you will regardless of what I say.”
With that, she turned and left, leaving him alone in the library. Landon stood frozen, staring after her. Had he been so wrong about her? If she was not Grayfield’s betrothed, then who was she?
He had made a terrible mistake, and now he feared he had lost her forever.