Daring Damsels Read online

  She unhooked the latch and the door swung open. There stood Alexander, looking at her with murder in his eyes. He folded his arms over his chest, blocking her escape.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked glancing around Chloe as if to see if someone else was inside.

  Chloe looked behind her also, confused about why he would think such a thing. She turned back and stared at him, making sure to keep the linen close to her face to hide her tear stained cheeks, and the anger that had flushed her face upon seeing him. Her anger at his presence continued to build and she worked hard to calm herself.

  “I merely wanted some privacy. I needed a few moments rest,” she answered smoothly, raising her chin up as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. The feat proved impossible considering he was nearly a foot taller than her.

  His glare intensified as he looked around the room again.

  He’s looking for something, not someone.

  Her perception was validated when he pushed past her and continued to look about the room.

  “Can I help you with something, my lord?” she asked keeping the bite from her voice.

  He knows the satchel was here!

  At that thought her stomach tightened into a thousand knots that twisted and turned in her body until she felt like she was being choked from the inside out.

  “Yes.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “You could tell me why my keep, my fortress, smells like a flower garden?”

  His intense stare caused heat to pool in her belly. “My lord, I thought you would like a fresh clean home that smelled of more than sweaty men and rotting food.” She tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice. He hadn’t really come to complain about the keep smelling nice, and they both knew it.

  “It smells like a lady’s solar, and this is a man’s keep, inhabited by men,” he snarled.

  “I understand, my lord. I only thought that even a man would prefer the scent of a woman over the scent of garbage. Perhaps next time I shall ask the staff to the fill bowls with rotten meat and vegetables instead of dried flowers and herbs.” Chloe lifted her chin slightly as she waited for his comeback. She hoped he understood her ribbing about preferring a woman. She thought it to be quite clever.

  He opened his mouth and then closed it again, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Perhaps it is an improvement,” he allowed. “Just do not go overboard. While my men enjoy the scents of women, we do not need them dallying with thoughts of women when they should be concerned with training. What other changes have you made?” He looked at her suspiciously.

  Why was he toying with her? Why didn’t he say what he really wanted?

  She went along with the ruse. “Besides making the keep clean and fresh, I only made a few other minor changes.”

  “Like what?”

  “Just a few changes in some of the meals and I’ve added some herbs to the herb garden for the spring.” She waved her hand, not really wanting to share the other changes, like the women’s healing group and the children’s school.

  “Hmm.” His eyes began to study the room again, and he moved in further.

  He was still looking for something. The brief conversation had not been his only intention for coming to her room.

  “My lord, if there is nothing further, I should be getting back to my duties.” She hoped that was good indication that he was to lead the way out of her room.

  He made no move for the door. “Yes, you should continue with your duties. I’m sure being in your room doesn’t help the progression of completing tasks.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. He definitely was not planning on leaving her chamber, and even further still seemed as though he was trying to push her from the room.

  “My lord was there anything in particular I could help you with?”

  “No, you may be along.” He brushed her off.

  With his back turned Chloe’s eyes darted to the bed. She had to get her things from their hiding place.

  “My lord, I can’t help but wonder what it is you may seek in my chamber?” She raised her eyebrow at him in challenge. Would he admit that he knew about the satchel being there?

  “I think you know what I seek, Chloe.” He stated in a low voice, still searching the room.

  So, he did know the satchel was there. Terror gripped her stomach for a fleeting moment until she realized that he may only have suspicions of its whereabouts. But then again, perhaps she could play on his more sensual side.

  “I’m afraid I don’t.” She kept her voice strong and sauntered toward him, willing her fear to subside. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and smiled slightly with satisfaction when his eyes were drawn to her mouth. A muscle worked in his jaw.

  “Harold delivered something here that was intended for me,” he said through tight lips, as a thin cruel smile came her way.

  “I did not see anything here for you,” she said, her hands coming to her hips. She was tired of playing the game.

  “Ah, but it was, ma cherie,” he said, coming to stand right in front of her. His frame towered over hers as he looked down at her. He was an imposing figure and she found herself suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

  Quickly she took her hands from her hips and fisted them at her sides. Her gumption came back when she thought of the pain he had caused her. How much she had suffered at his hands. She refused to listen to reason—that if her father hadn’t retaken South Hearth in the first place she wouldn’t be here. But, no! She couldn’t think like that! South Hearth was hers, by right! The English had stolen it from them—twice now.

  “Perhaps, if his lordship would describe to me what was yours that was brought to my chamber, I could help you locate it?” she asked, pasting a cheerful look on her face.

  Two can play this game.

  “Is that how ‘tis going to be? All right then. It was brown and leather. A bag. In case you don’t know what leather is, ‘tis made from an animal’s skin. And ‘tis mine,” he growled the last words down at her.

  A shiver passed through her. She wanted to be angry but she wanted to kiss him at the same time, feel his sinful mouth pressed to her flesh, licking the very essence of her.

  “I am terribly sorry, my lord, but I have seen no such thing,” she said, keeping the plastered smile strictly in place and trying desperately not to show how much he affected her.

  “Perhaps we could look around?” he asked sarcastically to her as he went to the carved oak wardrobe in her room and opened it. He began sifting through the clothes inside.

  “Anything in there of interest, my lord?” she asked, stifling a giggle. Playing this game of cat and mouse sent a thrill of excitement through her. He slanted a glance her way as his hands glided over one of her plain servant gowns. She imagined she was inside that gown, feeling his coarse hands caress her body. Chloe shivered, and bit the inside of her cheek.

  “Absolutely not,” he shot back.

  The sharp bite in his voice brought her back to reality. She shouldn’t be playing this game. She should be grabbing her belongings and getting out of here. It would only be a matter of moments before he moved to her bed to inspect her mattress.

  Walking casually to the bed, Chloe sat down on top of where she’d hidden her possessions. She pretended to fluff her servant’s gown, although all for naught since he was intently searching the wardrobe. She held her breath as she reached under the mattress and quickly drew out the portrait.

  Standing up and turning her back to him, as if to peruse the room, she made a coughing sound to hide any noise of the friction between her portrait and the fabric of her stays as she shoved it down the front of her gown. Looking down and smoothing it out, she took a deep sigh.

  Now that the portrait was safe, she felt much more relaxed. Although, there was still the matter of the gown hidden under her bed. She could always say her last mistress had gifted her with the clothing. She contemplated throwing them into the fire, but thought better of it. She didn’t know when she would need them and bett
er to have such fine things on hand then none at all.

  She wanted to tease him one more time. If only to keep the memory of his reaction burned in her memories. Watching his uneasiness brought delight to her overtaxed mind.

  “Are you sure you haven’t found anything of interest? If not perhaps you could stop sifting through my underclothes?” she drawled. It was fun to tease this man.

  He looked down at his hands and seemed to notice for the first time that he was clutching a thin-as-air chemise. He immediately shoved it back into the wardrobe and backed away.

  He turned to glare at her. His expression changing, his eyes mirroring her own feelings at the sight of him holding a piece of cloth that had once been so close to her skin.

  Desire. White hot desire.

  Chloe shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. A sizzle of yearning crept down her spine to settle in her core. As he sauntered toward her, his gaze raked her body from head to toe until they finally rested on her eyes. Their gazes locked and she felt his burning regard to her very soul. She held her breath, and the spark that had flared in the very center of her grew to an inferno with each step he took.

  When he was only inches away he stopped. The heat emanating from his sinewy body flowed over her. The sensation of it was intense and she feared her knees would buckle. Her stomach again put on a tumultuous act, however this time it didn’t make her nauseous. Chloe suppressed the urge to whimper as her body warmed and hummed. She wanted only for him to wrap her in his arms and ravish her like he had that day in the woods. But he didn’t, he just gazed at her, his eyes darkening, his lids growing heavy.

  His gaze searched hers, and her eyes grew wide under such strict scrutiny. What was going through his mind? His lips clenched tight and his brows furrowed. Even though he frowned, she knew he was not angry at her. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it.

  His mouth lowered to hers, but didn’t quite reach her lips. His breath fanned over her face. Gooseflesh rose and a wicked sizzle flashed through her. She closed her eyes in anticipation, her lips opened slightly, waiting for his kiss. She felt his presence, hot, sensual, and her mind started to muddle. He moved closer, the length of him pressed against her form. Thighs to thighs. Glorious rigid erection to the warm crux of her thighs. Breasts pressed to hard muscle. All thoughts of the satchel immediately fled her mind. His tongue flicked out to tease her top lip. His teeth nibbled along her chin, moving to the side of her neck, her collarbone. His hands danced along her arms, her back, her hips. Nibble, lick, nip, kiss. Again and again. Her legs shook with pent up desire. Her knees wobbled. Her hands clenched in fists at her sides. Her breaths hitched. Heart raced.

  Why wouldn’t he kiss her? Why tease her, torment her beyond reason?

  Abruptly, but gently, he nudged her out of the way and walked out of the room, the door slamming closed behind him.

  What happened?

  Had she been imagining the whole thing? Was it all a fantasy? Was the desire she felt reciprocated?

  No, she hadn’t made this up. He had confirmed it by his stare. By the away he had rakishly plundered her with his eyes, his lips and tongue.

  Why then had he left? Was he ashamed that he had such feelings for her? Was he teaching her a lesson?

  That had to be the answer. Either he suspected who she was, or if not, then he could only look on her as a common peasant.

  Her excitement over finding that he had desired her abated at the thought that he was disgusted and ashamed at his feelings for her. She swallowed bitterly. If only things were different…

  She patted her chest, and sighed in relief. At least she had her things. He hadn’t had time to look under her bed and seen the satchel.

  She listened closely for any noises in the hall outside her room, and when she was sure there was no one meandering about, she grabbed the satchel and stealthily left the room. She needed to get rid of the bag. The gown, slippers and headdress she would hide somewhere within the keep.

  She ducked into the hallway. With the sun beginning to set outside, the light in the hall dimmed a great deal, and the staff had yet to light any candles. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness and she walked silently down the hall in the opposite direction of the stairs. She did not want to run into Alexander should he change his mind and came back for further investigation.

  At the end of the hall were a set of stairs leading down to the back of the building used mainly for the staff, but also as an escape route in case enemy forces were coming up the main staircase. And indeed, her enemy was close to the main stairs. Making sure to check behind her frequently, she snuck down the back stairs and crept out of the keep as silently as she could.

  Sweat gathered in little beads on her top lip. She took a breath and slowly let it out, wiping her upper lip as she did so.

  Looking about she could see there were not many people walking on the grounds and those that were, busily worked at their duties. She said a silent prayer that the few milling about wouldn’t notice her carrying a leather satchel. She tucked it under her arm, schooled her face into an expression of nonchalance and took off at a steady but unalarming pace toward the well.

  As soon as she got there, she put the satchel on the rock ledge of the well, and lifted up the bucket. As she pulled the bucket onto the side of the well, she looked at the people busy working to make sure no one was watching. Not one glanced her way. She put the bucket back into the well, nudging the satchel over the side as she dropped the bucket. The second splash of the satchel made a light sound that was noticed by no one save herself.

  It is done. The satchel would sink to the bottom of the well. The portrait was safe within her gown. Her hand came up to rest over her heart. Perhaps the person who’d taken the jewels was only looking to make a few coins and not betray her. She had to be on hers.

  Chloe returned slowly to the keep, she needed to get some of her duties done. She had wiled enough of the day away in the village tending to the sick, and visiting with some of the village folk.

  She was becoming dangerously attached to Lord Hardwyck. Whatever happened now, she needed to put some distance between them.

  Alexander stormed out of the castle for another swim in the frigid stream. He couldn’t believe his reaction to the woman!

  As soon as she pointed out that he was holding her chemise, he had lost control of himself and walked toward her, desire in his every move. He had every intention of tossing her onto the soft mattress and driving his cock home again and again. Just as he had been about to grab her and ravage her luscious mouth, something had flickered in her eyes. Fear? Shame? He didn’t know, but it had been enough for him. He had to leave her, immediately.

  He dove into the stream without removing a stitch of clothing. He needed the shock that the freezing temperatures of the water could afford him. He swam a lap across the stream and back again, all the while berating himself for his thoughts and reactions. He hadn’t even been able to look further for the satchel.

  He knew it was there. Harold had made it clear that it was.

  When she had opened the door, he could see the distress written all over her face. She hid something that disturbed her immensely. It also looked like she’d been crying.

  Something was in that satchel. And he needed to know what it was. It could be the answer to this mystery. The answer to who she was, and what she was doing at Hardwyck.

  What would he do when he found out? If she was his bride could he throw her in the tower?

  He didn’t know.

  He didn’t want to. He wanted to marry her, bed her. He wanted her. All of her.

  His laps became more furious and his body was oblivious to the icy waters. When his breath was jagged and he felt the heat leave him completely, he climbed out.

  He walked, soaking wet, back to the keep and by the time he reached the gate he was shivering. Icicles formed in his hair, his eyebrows, his clothes were frozen stiff.

  What a stupid man I am, diving into the frigid waters
, completely dressed! What is she doing to me? She is making me lose my mind! My senses!

  He walked into the keep and was greeted by Harold, who upon seeing his condition began shouting orders to the staff to bring him a hot bath in his room, gather blankets, furs and wood for the fire. Harold ushered him up the stairs to his private chamber and assisted him in getting out of the icy clothes.

  The staff were quick with the bath and Alexander sank into the steamy tub. A moan escaped his lips at the feel of the warm water on his skin, seeping into his very soul.

  His moan brought back vivid memories of Chloe while she had taken her bath. The sounds of her splashes, the sounds of her content moans. This time when Alexander shivered it wasn’t from the frigid dip he’d taken.

  The cold swim had done nothing, now his body was again at the ready. He couldn’t win. He wouldn’t be able to subdue himself until he had her. In his bed, in her bed, on the ground, anywhere, everywhere. He wanted her and he wanted her with a hunger nothing but the feel of her silky skin and tight, hot, wet sheath would satisfy.

  Chloe took care in her chamber fixing herself for the evening meal. She made sure her headdress was securely in place, her hair cascading in waves down her back. Her simple gown, clean from any stains, sat smoothly against her body. She pinched her cheeks and sucked on her lips to bring out the color.

  Why was she primping for the dragon? The man who was her confirmed enemy. She didn’t want to think about that. She just wanted to look nice.

  Descending the stairs, she entered the great hall, and went about her duties of making sure the meal happened on time and in the proper manner.

  As the men started to pile in and take their seats, her stomach tightened in anticipation. Her face colored naturally with a flush she could feel so hot, she thought she might burst into flames. Nervously she flicked her gaze about to see if anyone had noticed her reaction. She felt like her thoughts were on display for everyone. That they could hear the private commentary going on in her mind.