Chapter Seventeen
Hours after Trevethan's visit, an uncompanionable silence persisted between them.
George spent a great deal of that time trying to keep his eyes from Miss Arabella Darcy of Pemberley, which proved difficult while sitting on a dirt floor in a bare little room without a stick of furniture or any other distraction.
She had spoken very few words to him since Sly's visit, and he could hardly blame her for being angry.
He had failed to protect her from being abducted by smugglers and then forced himself upon her like the worst sort of rake.
His mind moved restlessly between the best way to make amends and some possible plan of escape.
So far, both the man who had brought their food and Trevethan himself had arrived accompanied by two burly attendants.
George believed they were being held in one of the warehouses at the far end of the docks, but his head had still been ringing when they were brought here and his attention had been fixed almost entirely upon Bella.
Even if he could somehow get them out of this room, he very much doubted the rest of the building would be left unguarded, and any failed attempt might place her in even greater danger.
But what was the alternative? Sit here until the great Mr Darcy of Pemberley deigned to pay the ransom?
George knew enough of Sly Trevethan to doubt that would be the end of the matter.
Once the man discovered he could extract such a sum from a grand gentleman, he was hardly likely to surrender his golden goose.
George himself had little value to Trevethan beyond being a nuisance, and he tried not to dwell on what might be in store for him once Bella's usefulness had come to an end.
For the moment, he would bide his time. Watch and wait.
Learn the habits of their captors and keep a cool head.
As the thought passed through his mind, his gaze drifted once more towards Bella.
Her face was pale and her eyes looked large and glassy in the murky light.
She had given up entirely on the pins in her hair, which now fell in a loose dark sweep over one shoulder.
If they were going to escape this place, he needed her to trust him, and at present she would not so much as glance in his direction.
He crossed the small room and lowered himself beside her.
She did not appear to notice his approach.
Her gaze remained dreamy and unfocused, and he imagined she was far away from this barren little room, perhaps back on her grand estate with its rolling green hills and army of servants to see to her every need.
"Princess," he said, lightly touching her hand.
Her head snapped around. "Yes, George?"
He cleared his throat. "I must apologise."
Bella's eyebrows rose. "And which part of this whole debacle would you like to apologise for first? Your generally ungentlemanly behaviour towards me over the past few days? Leading me into a kidnapping situation? Or perhaps something else entirely?"
Her gaze flickered down to his lips. It was only for a heartbeat, but his own eyes mirrored the movement and came to rest upon the full bottom lip she was worrying between her teeth. He swallowed hard and made a concerted effort to return his attention to her eyes.
"I am not certain you can lay all of those faults at my door now, Miss Bella.
The kidnapping in particular is a situation you ran into head first." Her expression darkened and he hurried on.
"But yes. In general, I am sorry. I am sorry I could not protect you from this situation, and I am sorry if any of my actions have made you…
" He shrugged helplessly. "Uncomfortable," he ended weakly.
It was not the right word, but what was the word for being trapped in a confined space with a woman who drove you mad with desire?
She stood so suddenly that George had to lean back to avoid being struck by her skirts. Bella began pacing the few available feet of floor, plainly furious.
"Uncomfortable, is it? Oh yes, Arabella Darcy, Princess of Pemberley, could not possibly cope with a kiss. I am made of glass. I am not a woman at all, merely some statue to be placed upon a pedestal." She turned sharply towards him. "I am very sorry the experience was so regrettable to you."
"Regrettable?" George came to his feet and stepped into her path before she could begin another circuit of the room. "Princess, there was nothing regrettable about it. I have no words for what it was, but it was inappropriate. What would your father say?"
"I don't give two figs what my father would say. I would rather not involve him in my romantic intrigues, if that is quite all right with you."
"So we are having a romantic intrigue?" George asked, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.
Bella's cheeks coloured. "I believe we are in a difficult situation and can depend only upon one another. It is perfectly natural that we might turn to each other for comfort."
"Comfort, is that what you call it?" George said softly. He could not resist reaching for her. His fingertips found the delicate spot just behind her ear and slowly traced a path down the side of her face to her chin.
Bella went very still beneath his touch, but she did not pull away. Her eyes lowered so that her lashes, black as ink, fluttered against her cheeks. "Is it always like that?" she asked in a small voice.
"Is what always like that?" he said, distracted by the softness of her skin beneath his fingers.
"Kissing." She seemed to gather her courage before looking up and meeting his eyes.
It was her first kiss. Of course it was.
He tried to tamp down the surge of joy that he was the one to give it to her.
He should be ashamed of his behaviour. But even now she had captured him again in those eyes of hers, deep and dark as a forest floor.
There was a question in them, and he did not know whether he could answer it without losing what little remained of his restraint.
"Sometimes," he said softly. "Sometimes it is tender and sweet as spring rain." He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, so lightly that it was barely more than the whisper of a caress. Bella made a small sound, a tiny moan caught somewhere in the back of her throat.
"Sometimes, Princess, it is firm and warm, a promise between two people.
" This time he cradled her head in his hands, applying more pressure as he kissed her, and she opened to him, her breath warm against his mouth as she moved experimentally beneath his lips.
He had to fight for every scrap of self-control before pulling back and smiling down at her.
"And sometimes," he said softly. "Sometimes..."
She flung herself at him then, nearly knocking him off his feet as she took his mouth with a hungry possession he was not prepared for.
He met her beat for beat, exploring her tongue with his own and growling as she fisted her hands in his hair, drawing him deeper, closer.
When she nibbled his bottom lip, he thought he might die from the pleasure of it.
His hands moved almost of their own accord, tracing a path down her spine and exploring the curves of her waist. She was so firm, but so lush, and it was an intoxicating mix.
He drove her back so that she was pinned against the wall, their bodies entwined and sense lost to him.
"My Bella," he whispered as he trailed kisses down her neck, her answering whimper making his blood sing.
Then they heard footsteps in the hall beyond, and George stepped back so quickly that he nearly lost his balance.
Bella remained against the wall, panting, her hair now wild about her face.
God, she was beautiful. And he had thought that this, this decrepit hole, was the right place to make love to her?
He pushed his hair back from his face and turned away, trying to regain some of his composure. "I'm sor..."
"Do not dare apologise to me, Captain George Harwood. I was an equal participant in this particular venture." Her voice softened. "Although perhaps we should focus on more present concerns."
"What is between us… we must discuss… I will of course speak to your…"
"We must, and we will," she said warmly, coming towards him and taking his hand before leading him back to the corner of the room that had unconsciously become hers. "But before we enjoy more of those earthly delights..."
George let out a startled chuckle.
"...we must first find a way out of this room. And for that, we need a plan."