Lords Of Desire Part 3

"Shall we dine in bed?"

"Cheeky swine! Do you enjoy deluding yourself?"

"Not as much as you enjoy being a c.o.c.ktease."

Tory gasped at the shocking word he used. She had never heard it before in her life, but she knew it was wicked, and she knew exactly what it meant.

"Victoria, you are actually blus.h.i.+ng. Ladies of my acquaintance never blush." Falcon was intrigued.

"Do you even know any ladies?"

His dark eyes searched her face. "I do now, it seems."

She threw back the covers. "Though it's most unladylike to dine in my underlinen, 'tis entirely your fault."

"I don't mind in the least. I find your undergarments quaint."

He led her to a small table, held a gilt chair for her, and then sat down opposite her. He lifted a heavy silver cover, carved the bird, and, without consulting her, piled her plate with food. He poured them wine and started to eat. "Now tell me who you really are and why you are here."

"I really am Victoria Carswell. My father, who was Reverend of the Hawkhurst parish church, died eighteen months ago. Bodiam has been empty for years and has fallen into sad disrepair."

Falcon listened without interrupting, fascinated by her tale.

"A gentleman by the name of Sir Peregrine Palmer Fuller recently inherited the castle and invited me to dinner. He told me his intention was marriage. Because he knows how much I love Bodiam, he gave me permission to explore it. I have a great affinity with this castle and I was thoroughly enjoying myself, sensing the lingering impressions left behind by previous inhabitants. I was walking down a long pa.s.sageway when I heard something padding behind me. I turned to look and saw a leopard! I was terrified and ran frantically up the spiral tower staircase trying to escape. I opened the door and there you were."

"And here we are." He raised his gla.s.s in a mocking salute.

She took a deep breath and plunged in. "I believe the leopard chased me into the past. I ran from Victorian times back into the Georgian era, a distance of a hundred years."

"You speak as if you believe it with a pa.s.sion."

Tory blushed again. "I feel everything with a pa.s.sion, though I have learned to mask it."

"Why would you want to mask it?"

"It's not proper for a respectable lady to show emotion. It's not even proper to have emotions, especially not pa.s.sionate ones."

"Pa.s.sion is the greatest and rarest emotion to experience." His eyes examined her face. "The things I say keep you in a perpetual blush, and I find it intriguing. Perhaps we are from two different worlds."

She nodded. "You think me your captive, but I'm not sure I want to escape. My world is rather repressive. Your world is so much more stimulating than mine."

"How is it different?" he asked, bemused.

"My world is morally strict and rigid. Everything enjoyable is considered a sin. My mother is so straitlaced, she wors.h.i.+ps at the altar of respectability. I am restricted to the point of suffocation." Tory was struck by a sudden thought. "Did you give a party a few days ago, Lord Hawkhurst?"

"I did," he acknowledged.

"I saw it! I watched from the minstrels' gallery! I thought it was a masquerade because everyone was in Georgian dress! Oh, don't you see, that night I came back in time for just a moment. I had a tantalizing taste of the banquet that was to come."

"Your metaphor has me half convinced," he drawled. Falcon made no effort to hide his amus.e.m.e.nt. "Tell me more."

"I coveted the gorgeous gowns and the ladies' jewels, but I was shocked at their licentious behavior and the bawdy atmosphere."

"I suppose through an innocent's eyes it would seem rather ribald. Since you've come back in time, you might as well experience one of my affairs."

"You think I'm deranged.... You're humoring me."

And enjoying every mad moment. "Then you must humor me."

"I've nothing to wear to one of your...affairs." She felt her cheeks warming. She knew he'd used the word affair deliberately.

"That's easily remedied. There's a wardrobe full of feminine attire in the chamber below this one. Belonged to my...sister." He subst.i.tuted the word sister for mistress. "The baggage prefers London to Suss.e.x and slung her hook. That's a sailors' term."

I thought it was a pirates' term.

"That is most generous. May I get something to wear now?"

"Absolutely not. I want you to strut about in your drawers and stays this evening. They fascinate me." You fascinate me.

The bold devil knows I'm at a disadvantage in my underclothes and thinks me easier to control. He still suspects I'm spying on him; therefore there must be something he is trying to conceal.

They heard the scratching on the door at the same time. "That must be Pandora." He walked to the door to open it.

"Pandora?" she asked warily.

"My leopard. Don't fret, she's gentle as a p.u.s.s.y, so long as I'm here, of course."

Tory ran back to the bed and climbed up on it. With her heart in her mouth, she watched Falcon open the door. In strolled the leopard, carrying something in its mouth.

Falcon scratched the big cat behind her ear and she affectionately rubbed herself against his leg. "What's this?" he asked, taking a small silk bag from the leopard's mouth.

"That's mine," Tory said breathlessly.

"Pandora is perfectly safe." He handed Tory the embroidered bag and held out his hand. "Come down and I'll introduce you."

She clutched her bag with one hand and grasped his with the other. Never taking her eyes from the leopard, she allowed Falcon to help her climb down from the bed. She stood rigid while Pandora first sniffed at her, then licked her hand with a rough tongue. Some of her fear evaporated, but a healthy wariness remained. "How did you come to own a leopard?"

"I was opening crates of tea, a cargo I acquired from an East Indiaman. I lifted the lid of a box, and there she was. She was only a kit at the time, young enough to train. It amused me to teach her to be a watchcat. The name Pandora suggested itself."

"Unbelievable," she murmured.

"Rather like your story," he drawled.

Tory watched the leopard stretch its length on the carpet and when it began to purr, her apprehension lessened. She opened the drawstrings of her bag and took out the folded note. "Here is my invitation from Sir Peregrine."

He took the paper and read it. It was dated 17 August 1837. It was addressed to the Honorable Victoria Carswell at the priory, Hawkhurst, Suss.e.x. It extended an invitation for the lady to visit Bodiam and explore the castle in daylight. It was signed Sir Peregrine Palmer Fuller.

"It's a rather curious invitation. The day and month are correct, but the year is off by a hundred. There are other similarities-this is Bodiam Castle and my family name is Palmer."

"Your name is Peregrine Palmer? Then obviously you must be Sir Peregrine Palmer Fuller's ancestor!"

"Obviously," he said dryly.

She ignored his mocking tone. "Your resemblance is uncanny. He, too, is darkly handsome, with a strong face, powerful build and a compelling, dominant manner. Though you seem far more cynical."

Her description amused him. "Mea culpa-I am indeed a cynic. Is this Fuller your lover?"

"Absolutely not!" She felt herself blus.h.i.+ng. "I told you his intentions were honorable."

"Then we are not alike. We're different as chalk from cheese."

Her blush deepened. "Yes, you are far coa.r.s.er!"

"Flattery, beG.o.d!"

"You are a devil!"

Hawkhurst grinned knowingly. "And that excites you, Mistress Prim and Proper."

Her chin went up in defiance. "I'm not so prim and proper. All summer I've swum naked at dawn in the River Rother."

His glittering eyes narrowed. "Females don't swim."

"Perhaps they didn't a hundred years ago. That was long before the Prince Regent popularized Brighton and bathing machines-things you wouldn't know about," she taunted.

"If that thing you were wearing when you arrived is an example of how fas.h.i.+ons have advanced, I'm thankful I'm a Georgian."

"You can mock all you want, Lord b.l.o.o.d.y Hawkhurst, but the fact remains that I have come back in time one hundred years."

"If that is the game you wish to play, I will partner you."

She ignored his innuendo, then her eyes widened. "Oh, I just remembered. I think I have some coins in my bag."

"I'm quite a connoisseur of coins," he drawled.

Tory pulled out three pennies and inspected them. Two were William IV coins, but the third was new, minted for Victoria's coronation. It bore the queen's head and it was dated 1837. "There you are...proof positive!"

Falcon took the coin she thrust at him and looked at it with amused skepticism. "It's copper. Pennies are made of silver."

"Not in my day and age. Look at the date."

He read the date and gave her a quizzical glance. Then he tossed the coin into the air, caught it on the back of his hand, and covered it with his fingers. "Call it. Heads, you can have your way and I'll believe everything you say." He winked. "Tails, I'll have my way."

"Georgians were-are obsessed with gambling."

"Among other things," he said with a leer. "Call it."

"Heads," she said decisively.

"Heads it is," he said ruefully, "and here's me longing for tail." When she neither laughed nor blushed, he realized the coa.r.s.e jest was lost on her.

"Speaking of swimming, Pandora likes to cool herself in the moat at dusk on these warm summer nights."

The large feline stretched and got to her feet.

"She knows it's that time. Would you like to come?"

"She's very beautiful.... I'd like to watch her." Tory looked down at her underclothes and hesitated. Then the corners of her mouth lifted. "Since this is a lewd and licentious age, why should I let my dishabille stop me from enjoying myself?"

His brow arched. "Is it exciting for a repressed female to step back in time to an age that is lewd and licentious?"

She gave him a saucy glance. "Not quite as exciting as it must be for a lewd and licentious male to encounter a chaste female."

"That would be a novelty," he drawled. Then he gave her an admiring glance. "Your rejoinders are clever. They show wit."

She felt inordinately pleased at the compliment. "I've never been allowed to say them out loud before."

"Feel free to indulge in whatever gives you pleasure-no matter how outrageous." He grinned wickedly and took her hand. "Come."

When he opened the tower chamber door, the sleek feline silently slipped through and they followed her down the spiral stairs. Now that Tory was no longer blinded by fear, she saw through an open door that there was an elegant chamber below his, furnished for a lady, and she saw another room below that before they reached the ground floor.

They went outside and walked along a stone balcony. Pandora's leap was a graceful arc of supple sinew. The moment she plunged into the water, some waterfowl rose in alarm, flew toward the river, and were swallowed by the shadows of twilight. As Victoria watched the magnificent creature glide through the water, stained by the last glimmer of a wine sunset, the exquisite beauty of the scene touched her soul. I'll remember this forever.

Falcon covered her hand where it rested on the bal.u.s.trade. "Will you let me see you swim sometime?"

Victoria drew in a swift breath and looked up into his black eyes. The amus.e.m.e.nt was gone, replaced by a haunting intensity. "Yes, if it will give you pleasure, my lord."

"To be enjoyed to the full, pleasure must be shared."

She gazed up at him and realized the truth of his words. She felt the warmth of his powerful fingers seep into her hand and surge up her arm; she felt her pulsebeat merge with his. Perhaps that's why I came here, so we could share pleasure. For the first time in her life, Tory felt the exquisite stirring of desire.

Pandora emerged from the moat unnoticed until a shower of water droplets cascaded over them as the leopard shook herself. Their laughter broke the spell of the intimate moment they shared, and Falcon led the way back up to the chamber atop the round tower.

He lit the candles in the wall brackets, bathing the room in a warm glow. "Alas, my time is promised elsewhere tonight. You may take my bed until a chamber can be plenished for you tomorrow. That is, of course, if you decide to stay."

She searched his face. "I thought I was your captive."

"It would be difficult to keep a captive who wished to return to her own time." He took an iron key from the drawer of a bedside table and offered it to her. "If you choose to stay, lock the door when I leave for your own protection."

Tory stared at the key on his open palm, then raised her eyes to his, trying to discern his thoughts. In the fathomless depths she saw secrets, never to be told, but she also saw desire. She reached out and took the key.

Once she was alone, Tory explored the chamber. She sniffed the gla.s.s decanters on a side table. Two held wine, but the third she suspected was forbidden French brandy. In the bedside table she discovered aromatic tobacco, a pipe, and flints. She connected the smell with the memory of her father, yet she had never seen him smoke. Hidden knowledge floating from the past made her smile. Mother forbade the pleasure, so he indulged in secret.

She looked at the items on his desk. It held sheets of paper, a silver inkwell, several feather quills, red wax, and a gold seal ring carved to stamp the imprint of a peregrine falcon. Tory was almost sure she had seen it on Falcon's little finger earlier. She tried on the ring, traced the raptor's outline with her fingertip, and felt a frisson of yearning for she knew not what.

She opened the desk drawer and saw a long leather box. She lifted the lid and saw that it was a case designed to hold a pair of pistols. She touched the velvet indentations and realized Falcon must have the pistols with him. The other item in the desk was a book. Tory sat down, opened it, and turned the pages. It was a ledger with a list of names that were common in Suss.e.x. The symbols and numbers after each name were a cipher of some sort that she didn't understand. There was a section at the back of the ledger that listed more n.o.ble-sounding names along with their t.i.tles.

Victoria put the book back and yawned. She longed to explore the chamber beneath this one, but the thought of a prowling Pandora stopped her. The wide bed beckoned, so she snuffed all the candles save one, removed her shoes and stockings, loosened the strings of her corset, and slipped between the sheets.