Chapter 18

Long past midnight, the sheet in the large bed was still perfectly neat and straight, for it remained as yet untouched. The occupant of the best and largest suite for guest in the mansion had spent the hours sitting by the window, looking at something in the distance. Ever since he saw her in the devil's arms, the sight was consuming his every waking thought. The image played over and over again through his restless mind with startling clarity, made him feel as though the vessels in his chest was going to explode.

He stared out the window, in the direction of her room in the opposite building, the East Tower, where the upper servants were housed. Instead of window, each room had a small balcony overlooking the garden below. Every balcony in the second and third floor were dark, for all the inhabitants must be sleeping safe and sound at this hour. So was her room, but suddenly a little light flickered and spread over the balcony. He tensed on his seat, his senses were alerted at once.

It was well after midnight, why did she suddenly light a candle? Was it a sign for someone waiting out in the dark? Was it a silent invitation to come by? The thought made him hot and irritated. His mind fully occupied by a single question.

Had she granted her favors to Blackthorne?

He wondered did she allow the scoundrel to be intimate with her that soon. Even the most promiscuous seductress didn't usually grant men their favor so easily, they would rather make men wait for some time. But Blackthorne was famous for his damnable charm and women all over London fell at his feet. Perhaps she was no exception. She was a woman after all, a debauched one, he might add.

A minute later, the window of the suite creaked quietly open and he landed on his feet almost without sound. He checked his surroundings with a brief yet thorough glance and rushed across the large garden to hide behind the bushes near the East Tower.

He must be insane to do this but he couldn't help it. He waited under the shadow, inspecting every inch of the area, but there was no sign of anyone coming. A sudden thought slipped helplessly through his mind. Perhaps the scoundrel didn't come from the outside. Perhaps he had sneaked into her room through the backstairs. Why it didn't occur to him earlier, he knew it better than anyone else that the servants' stairs was the best alternate route. Damn it!

He climbed his way up to the small balcony. Once he was there, he pressed his back to the wall and listened, straining his ears for any sound. When silence greeted him, he crept to the door carefully and tried to peer through a little slit in the curtains.

She was reading in her bed, leaning against the headboard. She wore a silk robe over her nightgown, a thick blanket covered her from the waist down. She was lovely, ever so lovely in soft shimmering candlelight, for a moment he forgot that he detested her. The silk nightgown flattered her trim figure, and he couldn't help but wondering if she was naked beneath the thin fabric.

Even though her eyes focused on the page, Ava could barely concentrate on a word. It was late at night and she had been lying wide awake in her bed for hours, thinking about the man who captured her mind recently. She decided she needed some distraction, but no matter how hard she tried, her mind keep wandering back to him. She recalled their encounter this evening.

What made him so furious? How could he said such terrible things to her?

She knew there was some kind of unspoken feelings between them, but she also knew that he would never take the simmering attraction between them to the next level. She knew he hadn't the slightest intention to stray from the rightful path that made for him. In fact, he would be married in matter of days...

Blast him!

He had no claim on her. He had no right to interfere with her personal affair, let alone insult her and her family. The only reason behind his terrible behavior was his wounded pride, his selfish jealousy, not some kind of real, genuine emotion. The hell with him! He might think whatever he wanted. From now on, she would give him no thought whatsoever.

But the stinging heat prickling her eyes betrayed her devastation. She was not just offended or outraged. She was torn, broken, her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. And as much as she couldn't deny it, she couldn't understand it.

She had been branded a whore all over England. She felt nothing but rage when Roger made it clear that he saw her as nothing more. But when it was him who saw her that way, it hurt so bad, it was harrowing her very soul.

He saw her tossing the book aside then flung the blanket open. Her nightgown was only knee-length and her slender legs were exposed to him. She wasn't tall but she had long, beautiful legs. And a pair of pretty ankles. She took a small pot from the commode and opened the small cloth covering it, then began to apply the content of the pot to her neck.

His gaze fully locked on the sight as a sudden thrill swept over him. Her throat, looked so long and slender when she stretched her neck. He imagined nuzzling the smooth, delicate skin there, pressing wet, hot kisses on her pulsing vein. He wanted to sink his teeth in the soft flesh until she cried in both pleasure and pain. It all came before his mind and there was no stopping it. Breathing with short, quick puffs, he loosened his necktie almost absentmindedly, in the cold night breeze, his body grew dangerously stifling.

Her delicate fingers traveled down below her neck, moving in circles over her chest, above the laced hem of her nightgown. In his imagination, his mouth followed the path of her hand, kissing, licking and nibbling around there. He caught his breath when she removed her robe. The nightgown was only a simple chemise, the thin strap exposing her bare shoulders and arms. She continued to rub the lotion over her upper arm. Her skin glistening in the candlelight, his temperature rising to an alarming degree. His fingers worked on his collar, unfastening several buttons there.

For his own good, not for the sake of morality, he should tear his gaze away,

it might be a delightful sight by now, but it would only torture him later. Especially when he knew it was something he could never have. But with every inch of her naked skin revealed, good intentions went out the window. She had seen women in full nudity in more daring, seductive pose but they were nothing compared to this. Watching her rubbing the damned lotion over her whole body was the most erotic visual experience in his life.

She brought one knee up to her chest, and the hem of her skirt pushed to pool around her hips, exposing the whole of her naked thighs, and his fantasies ran wild, the violence of lust threatened to overtake him.

Suddenly Ava got some instinct that she was being watched. A sense so strong it startled her in sudden alarm. She glanced at the balcony door, but the curtains were closed, she couldn't see anything beyond it. She put on her robe and rolled out of bed. She walked slowly to the balcony, feeling a tingling sensation down her spine. She peered through the gap between the curtains but her view were limited. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The cool wind breezed into the room, blowing off the candleflame. The shadow stole the last remnant of the light and her room became as dark as a cave. She stepped out into the balcony.

He slid quietly to the side as she opened the door. She passed him by, blissfully unaware that her stalker was only a step away from her. She stood by the railing, looking around the garden below. He wondered what would happen if he just grabbed her from behind. She would be terribly shocked at first, but perhaps later she would give in and allow him to have his way with her, just like she let Blackthorne... All the flame of passion dimmed at the thought of it, of how easily she fell for the scoundrel. But his blood didn't cool a bit, only heated more with an overwhelming rage. Suddenly she felt a ripple of air from behind. She turned around abruptly in fear, expecting to see someone standing behind her.

But there was no one, only the empty corners of the balcony. She looked quickly from left to right, breathing in relief when she was certain she was alone and safe. She was just about to go back to her room when she detected a familiar scent. Only a trace of a man's subtle fragrance mixed with his natural scent. A slight yet particular scent. She turned back and looked around the garden once again, before shaking her head slightly. She must be imagining it, she was just too consumed with him she felt his presence in the most impossible place. She stepped into the darkness of her room and suddenly dreaded by the idea of somebody standing somewhere in the dark, watching her, waiting for her ...

She held her breath and peered through the dark in a vain effort to glimpse anything. Reluctantly she closed the door behind her, and the room was smothered by an impenetrable blanket of black. She rushed to her bed and slipped inside the blanket, curling her body beneath the frail protection as though it could shield her from any harm. She shut her eyes tight and forced herself to sleep.

Ashton watched her room from the shadow in the darkest hour of the night, only to make sure she was not with somebody else. He couldn't tell whether she was waiting for the scoundrel or not. The question harrowed him the whole night. He went back to his room in the small hours, just one hour before sunrise, wondering if he started to lose his sanity. He acted like a man obsessed, a man possessed. He was restless and curious and furious at the same time. This emotion had completely taken over at the expense of everything else.

***

A few hours later, he sat idly on a bench in the garden with his sketchbook and pencil. The gentle morning breeze carried the stench of dewy grass and the heady perfume of roses to his nose as the birds fluttered and chirped above his head. Soft, vibrant rays of sunlight flooded over the landscape, lighting and warming every inch of the lawn. It was a bright, beautiful morning but his mood was as dark as the night.

In every strokes on the fine-textured paper he tried to find some peace of mind. It never failed him before, it always worked whenever he sought comfort. But today it seemed like a vain effort, because his feelings didn't improve a bit. His hand ceased in the midst of a sketch. He was drawing her again, just as he saw her last night.

"Good morning."

A silky voice greeted him. He closed his sketchbook immediately. Selene was standing a few feet away in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever in her simple morning dress.

"Forgive me. Looks like I've intruded on your solitude." she said a bit apologetically.

"Not at all."

"I will go if you wish to be alone."

"No, I've quite enough time alone. I think some company would be pleasant."

She nodded toward the lush garden.

"Perhaps you'd like to take a turn about the garden with me."

In the morning light, he caught the pale shimmer of her pearl earring. The pearl was perfectly smooth and flawless, but it could not compete with the radiant glow of her skin. He marveled at her lovely, elegant visage. Perhaps it was time he learned to cherish what was rightfully belonged to him. Pushing himself out of his seat, he took her hand and they walked hand in hand along the lawn.

"We'll be married in three weeks. I wish we got more time to get to know each other."

she said solemnly, casting a hurried glance at him surreptitiously.

He cast down his eyes as though he was examining the footpath, but she knew he refused to look at her.

"We've got the rest of our life to discover anything about each other, haven't we?"

She stopped walking and turned toward him, subtly urging him to stop and face her.

"Tell me, what do you think about me?"

"I think you're perfect for me."

He didn't lie. Selene met all the requirements to be his duchess, and her bloodline surpassed all the other available ladies.

"What was your first thought when you first saw me?"

This was the first time Selene brought an informal conversation with him. He considered his answer carefully.

"I was glad you were lovely, more than I expected."

"Is it true? Am I to your liking?"

"I couldn't ask for more."

The answers sounded like a compliment, but now she felt that his words were ambiguous, there was an underlying meaning that was contrary to what it seemed.

They continued to talk to each other, about mundane things and so, sauntering leisurely along until they finally reached the edge of the garden, where a fallen trunk laid across the stream. He tensed at the sight of it. He had no wish to set eyes on this place ever again.

Unaware of his sudden stillness, Selene stepped down the bridge with an impressive balance. Reluctantly he followed the path.

"There's a hidden gem deep inside this forest." She told him.

"What is it?"

He offered a polite interest.

She smiled and signaled him to follow her.

"Come along, I'll show you."

She led him through the woods, passing a shadowy path as their feet rustling through the layer of leaves. As they ventured further and deeper into the unexplored wilderness, the air surrounding them got colder. From a distance, a soft gushing sound vibrated in the air. The rhythmic noise increased as they got closer, and finally, the source of the sound came into sight.

Beyond the untamed wilderness loomed a breathtakingly beautiful waterfall. The cascade of water looked like a curtain of silver silk threaded with white drizzling onto the rocks. The stream toppled into a clear water bed, so clear it was easy to see down into the rocky bottom. Ferns and wildflowers grew by the bank, waving gently in the soft, cool breeze.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Selene's gentle voice brought him back from his fascination.

"How did you find it?"

"Whenever I was here, I spent more hours exploring the forest than staying in the house."

He looked at her in wonder and amazement.

"You don't seem like a woman who loves to adventure into the forest."

She gave him a significant look.

"Many things are not what they seem to be."

Without hesitation, she sat on her heels before the water. He wondered how she could do something so unladylike yet still looked unmistakably regal. It seemed like she was graceful enough to do anything in style, like she was born with it. He bet she would still look elegant when climbing a tree. She removed her gloves, revealing the soft, beautiful hand beneath. She dipped her hand into the clear water.

"Have you ever bathed in the river?"

She surprised him with the unexpectedly brazen question.

"No, I'm afraid it couldn't provide an adequate standards of hygiene."

A quiet laugh escaped her.

"A little dirt could do no harm. You should try it sometimes."

He looked around, staring somewhere along the waterfall while she was playing with the water. After some time, she put on her gloves again. He offered his hand to help her to her feet. She took his hand and rose. She was unusually tall, he topped her only by less than three inches, so when they stood this close, he could feel her warm breath on his face. She lifted her gaze to his and laid a hand against his chest, then angled her face upward. He knew the inviting gesture called for further intimacy, to deny it would only humiliate her. He complied with the wordless demand and bent down to kiss her.

She tasted as exquisite as she looked. Her alluring scent filled his nostrils, a subtle fragrance of orchids. She tasted of finesse and delicacy, like the taste of a rich, expensive wine or the feel of the finest silk. He put his hands on her arms absentmindedly as to keep her in place. Losing himself in the sweet depth of her mouth, he filled his senses with her. The soft heat of her mouth, the sweet-smelling of her natural scent, the satiny feel of her naked skin in his hand. She was all the things a woman should be, she was everything a man could ever want. She was perfect, except for one thing. She was not her. She was not the woman who haunted him not only in his dreams but in every waking hour. The thought stunned him at once. Even in the midst of paradise with another woman, he couldn't shut her out of his mind.

Selene felt the warm, velvet caresses ceased almost abruptly. Slowly she opened her eyes when she felt his lips receded from hers. She looked into his intense blue eyes. He returned her gaze with inscrutable expression, his eyes fastened on hers, so close yet so unreachable.

"I think it's time to get back." He eventually said.

It was considerate of him to keep his passion under restraint and show his respect for her even in the intimate moment, but she felt that his manner was composed and distant. It was not the way a man spoke to his lover after what they had shared. She took hold of his arm and they walked in silence.

If there was anything she had learned about her fiancé from their first kiss, she could tell that he knew what he was doing and he had amazing breath, but no matter how good the kiss was, she knew he didn't put his heart and soul into it. It might seem like a real kiss, but it was nothing of the kind. It was simply a courtesy. An empty, lifeless compliance. She knew it wasn't the way he kissed his mistress. They were both silent as they walked the footpath led back through the forest to the mansion. In a moment, they were already crossing the narrow trunk. At the end of the bridge, Selene slipped off an uneven ground. She clutched to his arm for balance and clung to him.

"Be careful."

He held her automatically. She stopped walking and frowned as if in pain.

"Are you alright?"

She took hold of him with another hand, apparently it was painful for her.

"I think I sprained my right ankle."

"Let me see."

He led her to a stone bench nearby and sat her carefully, absently he placed his sketchbook on the bench next to her, then squatted down in front of her.

"May I?" he asked. She nodded in response.

He took her injured ankle beneath her skirt and brought it to his inspection. He skimmed over her delicate ankle to find the twisted muscles. When his focus fully drawn to her ankle, Selene glanced at the sketchbook laid next to her.

Ashton couldn't feel a twisted muscle in her ankle, it seemed perfectly fine.

"Oh my God." She exclaimed in surprise.

"Does it hurt?" He looked up at her, lifting away his fingers from her skin.

"No, but I just realized, I lost our engagement ring."

"Are you sure?"

He frowned in surprise. It wasn't like Selene to be careless like this.

"Wait, let me think... I remember putting it on this morning."

"So you were still wearing it when we walked along?"

"I remember. I think I left it by the waterfall. Yes, I remember."

He remembered the moment she removed her gloves and dipped her hand into the water. To his recollection he didn't see her removing her ring, but perhaps it escaped his notice. He wasn't really paying attention, after all.

She tried to stand up.

"I have to go back there, ah..."

She fell back on the bench with a painful frown.

Rising to his feet, he said,

"I'll get it, stay here."

And he dashed off to the forest.

When he was completely disappeared from her sight, Selene took the sketchbook quickly. As she expected, everything went perfectly well. She didn't remove her ring before dipping her hand into the water. She didn't wear the ring this morning. She brought it in the pocket of her skirt. She dropped the ring while she was distracting him with the kiss. It worked well. The damp soil made no sound as the ring crashed on it.

Opening the sketchbook, she flipped quickly through the pages, skipping many sketches of nature and buildings, her eyes searched and searched... and suddenly her heart stopped when she found what she was looking for. Her eyes riveted on that particular sketch. A face of a woman. Her instinct was correct. It was her. She flipped through the next pages, and her breath caught as she found a dozen sketches of that woman in many different angles. The way he drew her, so intricate and detailed. She could feel in every line on the paper, the passion he had for her. The last sketch got her stunned. It was way more intimate, more erotic than the others. The sketch was unfinished, but still she could tell that the sketch depicting the woman in an intimate situation, sitting on the bed in a provocative nightgown. She could guess what made him leave the drawing unfinished. She imagined him tossing the book and pencil aside and pushed himself out of his seat, advancing on the woman in the bed when his artistic urge was replaced by a more immediate one...

Closing the sketchbook, Selene set it on the bench just as before. She had seen enough to know that what she heard last night was not a lie. Thinking about her impeccable fiancé, she was scarcely able to contain her discontent.

She knew love was hardly involved in their arrangement. However, it was upsetting to know the man she was bound with for eternity was deeply infatuated with another woman. She contemplated the fact as she sat there, being very still as if she was waiting patiently. Despite the tribulation, she remained deceptively calm when he came back with her ring.

"Thank God you found it."

She wore a grateful expression as she took the ring from him and put it on her gloved finger.

Just at the moment Ashton glimpsed his sketchbook lying next to her. He glanced quickly at Selene, but there was no sign of changing emotion in her face. She turned toward him and smiled before taking hold of his arm and rising from her seat carefully.

All the way back, he was disturbed by the realization that he had left his deepest secret, unlocked and unguarded with Selene.

Had she seen what was inside? And if she had, would she recognize the woman in the sketches once they crossed path? But there was a chance she didn't touch it at all. Until now, Selene never showed interest in his fondness for art. Perhaps she wasn't interested to have a look inside, perhaps she wasn't even aware of its presence. She looked perfectly calm and untroubled.

But as he observed his fiancée surreptitiously, curiously her words resounding through his mind like a faint echo in his head.

"Many things are not what they seem to be."

*****

Just before lunch, Lady Waldorf cheerfully announced that there was a surprise awaited the guests right after. When the lunch concluded, the guests were summoned to the drawing room, a large salon where a temporary stage had been constructed at the end of the room and a multitude of chairs had been arranged in rows. The large salon had been turned into a mini theater.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

Lady Waldorf exclaimed proudly.

"Today I have the opportunity to honor all of you with a performance from the most prominent actors of London's Royal Theatres!"

Roars of delight resounded through the room. Soon the excited guests were ushered to their seats by some servants, the front seats were reserved for the very important and superior-ranked guests. Ava and Lady Byrne were seated in the middle row. She was listening to the lady's enthusiastic chatter when someone called the lady from the opposite row.

"Claire!" A middle-aged lady waved vigorously to Lady Byrne, who immediately waved back at her in the same manner.

"Excuse me, dear," Lady Byrne rose to her toes, "I'm going to greet an old friend."

When Ava got up to escort her, the lady halted her.

"There's no need, darling. I'll be but a moment. Just stay here."

Ava watched the lady as she greeted and hugged her friend. Lady Byrne sat on the vacant seat beside her friend and soon both women were chatting fervently.

The empty seats in the row were soon occupied, and she had to tell some guests who were about to take the lady's place that the seat was reserved. Ava glanced in the lady's direction, the old woman seemed like she had no wish to return here.

On the stage, the narrator started to deliver the opening of the play, and for a long moment her attention was drawn to the stage. She barely recognized when someone came over silently and sat beside her. Somewhere in the middle of the play, she caught glimpse of the person sitting next to her and flinched at once. She turned toward him with rounded-eye surprise.

"Well, hello beautiful."

The Earl of Blackthorne regarded her with his lazy smile.

"How delightful to see you again."

She got up and tried to make her way out of the row, but her petticoat made it difficult to move in the narrow passage. She was in the midst of the row and with the seats fully occupied, to get out of here seemed like an impossible task.

"Please sit down, Miss. You're blocking the view."

An irritated voice came from behind, followed by mutterings of annoyance. She had no choice but to sit back. She set her body rigid and looked straight ahead. She would just ignore the earl during the show. She could feel that he was watching her intently. Under his silent observation, she became more and more restless.

"What do you want from me?"

She asked impulsively.

"Forgiveness."

Came his unexpected reply.

"I apologize. I made a terrible mistake yesterday. I promise it will never happen again."

Had she misheard him? Was he apologizing to her? He looked like an unrepentant jerk. But, she wouldn't be deceived by his pretense. The men of nobility, they could be charming if there was something they wanted to get.

"Being alone with a woman as beautiful as you, surely anyone can understand how I lose my head."

He continued after a slight pause.

"I hope this matter hasn't brought you too much trouble."

She stayed silent. Perhaps if she kept ignoring him, he would cease his pursuit.

"I guess he must be really mad at you."

She was quite taken aback this time. How could he know that the duke was unreasonably angry at her?

"I don't understand what you're talking about, My Lord."

"No need to pretend, Miss. I know who you truly are."

"What~"

She turned toward him at once.

Blackthorne smiled inwardly. At last he got her undivided attention.

"He told me after you left."

"He told you?!!!"

Her eyes turned as big as saucer.

"Don't worry, sweet. Your secret is safe with me."

For a long moment, she stayed frozen and open-mouthed, staring at the earl without blinking. The duke's face flashed before her vision.

How could he... How could he do something like this to her? What did she do him wrong that she deserved this? He told her secret to the earl. For what purpose he put her very life at risk? With her secret at the devil's fingertips, suddenly her life, her future, her hopes were so helpless and fragile. Her fate was entirely at another man's mercy, it hung as by a thread, any moment he could cut the strand and let it fall into pieces.

"No need to be ashamed. I'm not one of those judgmental hypocrites."

The earl's voice startled her out of her miserable thought. Now that he knew who she really was, he must think that just like her mother and her sister, she was willing to lift her skirt for every man who could afford it. She watched the earl in vigilance, trying to figure out what games he was playing. He knew her secret. She knew what he wanted from her. What should she do if he blackmailed her to grant him her sexual favor? Her brain struggled for a strategy, but she was completely at her wits' end.

"Now that you know my secret, what are you going to do next, My Lord? Are you going to tell everybody who I really am?"

He chuckled, for an instant she thought he would bring up the bargain, unexpectedly he replied.

"You can call me anything, the devil knows I deserve it, but I'll be damned if I become one of those stupid gossipmongers."

She considered his answer for a while, obviously she still had a doubt regarding his words.

"And what do I owe you in return?"

"Nothing, I have no intention to use it against you."

"Can I trust you, My Lord?"

"You have my word. Now tell me, did he punish you for that?"

"More than you can possibly imagine."

She didn't endeavor to disguise the pain. Bitterness tinged every word coming from her mouth.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

She looked straight ahead and replied with a touch of sarcasm.

"I'm quite accustomed to it. He is cruel to me all the time."

"Really?"

"Yes. He finds the ultimate pleasure in abusing me."

"He abused you?!"

"At every turn."

Been living in a fast lane since his early adulthood, there was only a few which could surprise him, but what Blackthorne just heard stunned him. He knew that the duke was a cold, arrogant prick, but he never expected him to be a vile pervert. Looking at the sweet, innocent-looking woman next to him, he imagined the shame and the pain she endured at the hands of her master. Blackthorne was definitely not a moral man, and he might have broken hearts of too many women in his amorous adventures, but he never derived sick, disgusting pleasure from inflicting pain and humiliation on women, or degraded women in any sort of way.

"How could he do such a thing to you?"

"Because he looks down on me. He sees me as nothing but a lowly whore."

Blackthorne cast his eyes on the duke at the front row, whose silvery head was just visible over the crowd. No one had ever expected that he was a consummate villain beneath the mask of a supremely impeccable man. If today had taught him anything, clearly it was that one could never judge by appearance. As though Blackthorne's scathing glare could shot a rush of heat from the distance, the duke turned his head and glanced in his direction.

Selene noticed instantly the change of air that came over her fiancé. Furtively, she followed the direction of his gaze, just as she expected, it riveted on the woman in the sketches, who was sitting next to the Earl of Blackthorne. The woman seemed unaware, she was looking straight ahead with a frown crossing her forehead as if she was in a great dismay.

Even with the distance separating them, Blackthorne could feel a scorching tension crackling from across the room. The duke stared at him with undisguised animosity, a quiet challenge flickered in his eyes. Blackthorne calmly met his gaze and gave him a provocative sneer. He swore he could see the other man's eyes flashing with rage. He felt a sense of triumph and satisfaction knowing that he had achieved the desired result of his action. The duke averted his face, focusing his attention to the play again.

He glanced at the woman next to him, the lovely damsel in distress. A week in the country estate was supposed to be dull and tedious, but with the company of a delightful temptress, it would surely help pass the time. And he hadn't the slightest intention to comply with the duke's order.

"I wish I could help you out of your situation."

He brushed her hand with a light touch. She gasped in surprise and wrenched her hand away from him. He said again with a reassuring voice.

"In fact, if you wish I can help you in some way."

"If you really want to help, please just stay away from me, My Lord."

She gave him a sharp look.

"And I hope you remember to keep your word to me."

Quite taken aback by the blatant rejection, Blackthorne was by turns amused and offended by her. If she suffered in the hands of her master, why declined an opportunity to escape? The monster must have put the fear of God in her, or despite all logic and good judgment, this woman was hopelessly in love with him. The devil knew women were such incomprehensible creature. He found this beauty mysterious and intriguing. She was just the project that a jaded man needed. Challenge and danger. He was bored with the willing and the eager. He was no longer interested in easy, predictable conquest. One way or another, he would make this woman surrender to him. Not by force but by persuasion.

The sound of applause reverberated through the room as the audience rose to their feet at the end of the performance. Startled from her deep thought, Ava stood up, preparing to escape as the crowd dispersed. The earl came to his feet as well. The next second, she moved with the crowd, passing the earl as she made her way out of the narrow passage.

She stared blankly as she walked ahead. Her mind was awhirl with images of the duke. The man she once considered a true gentleman. Never crossed her mind that he would take revenge on her this way, by revealing her true identity to a man who fancied her. She knew he did it to let the earl know that she was a lowly, unworthy whore. She swore to God next time she met him, she would held her head high and ignore him as if he never existed. She would never talk to him again, ever, whatever happened or might have happened.

"Ava, dear. I'm sorry I left you alone, I hope you managed well on your own. Lady Steinfeld is an old friend of mine, and we haven't met for almost two years. I can't just greet her and leave..."

Lady Byrne's chattering voice intruded on her occupied mind.

"It's alright, My Lady."

Ava forced herself to smile and look at ease. The lady babbled about the performance and Ava tried her best to show a polite enthusiasm while she barely knew the scene the lady was talking about. Her eyes were watching but her mind was thoroughly distracted by another thing during the show.

"It's getting a bit stifling here, I think I need a drink. Could you fetch me some champagne, dear?"

Lady Byrne fanned her face with a jeweled hand.

"Of course, My Lady."

Ava headed to the refreshment table where the champagne and a large selection of pastries were poured. Guests were swarming around the table and she had to push way through the throng. Suddenly a woman crashed her, spilling her champagne over the front of her bodice. She took a step back at once, looking down at her soaking dress.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. That was terribly clumsy of me."

An elegant voice reached her ear. She looked up to find that the woman was Lady Selene Wyndham, the duke's fiancée. For a moment, Ava was overawed in her presence. Seeing her from a distance was totally different from standing in front of her in close range. The lady possessed such a commanding presence, she felt so small and humble in front of her.

"Please, allow me to make amends for my careless behavior."

The lady's gaze brushed her from head to toe and she felt even more inhibited.

"There's no need, My Lady."

Struggling to conceal her discomfort, she managed to bring out a polite answer.

"That's very kind of you," The lady raised one brow.

"I haven't seen you before, Miss..?"

"I'm no miss, my lady. I'm just a humble lady's companion."

"I am Lady Selene Wyndham, and you are?"

"Miss Ava Banks of Evergreen, Vermont."

She performed a low curtsy, and for some reasons she couldn't bring herself to look at the lady. Suddenly she felt an absurd guilt and an urge to escape. What would the lady think of her if she knew her fiancé had had several clandestine meetings with her?

"Vermont, what a coincidence. Darling~"

The lady beckoned to someone standing a few feet away from her. Ava followed her gaze and froze as she saw who the lady was calling for.

For a fleeting instant, she thought she saw a look of bewilderment on the duke's face, but every trace of it was gone as sudden as it appeared. Watching him move toward them, she could only guess at the thoughts that occupied him right now.

The lady touched his arm in a subtle yet proprietary gesture as he arrived.

"My dear, let me introduce you to a new acquaintance, Miss Ava Banks. She is coming from your place."

"Your Grace."

She had no choice but to greet him and curtsy. She cast down her eyes as to avoid eye contact with him. Blast it! Just a couple of minutes and she already broke her word.

He said nothing in response, and Selene asked casually,

"Do you know each other by any chance?"

Her heart made a wild leap at the lady's unexpected question.

"I don't believe we've met before."

He replied coldly.

For an absurd reason, her heart throbbed with wistful ache at his denial. She knew it was exactly what they supposed to do, to pretend as though they were strangers in public, but still, she never imagined to be in the actual situation. It felt strange and bitter at once.

Silly of her, it didn't matter anymore, since he had made it clear what he thought of her.

The lady seemed slightly curious, then she asked again.

"Oh, how do you know my fiancé, Miss Banks? I haven't introduced him to you."

She recalled the moment she greeted him with his title. She was too nervous that she didn't pay attention to such details. Now the lady knew without doubt that she already knew her fiancé.

"I know some of the lords and the ladies here, My Lady. The Dowager Countess Byrne has told me."

Suddenly found a good reason to go, she continued instantly.

"She must be waiting for me, I shall return to her now. Your Grace, My Lady."

She performed a solemn curtsy to the noble pair and spun around, rushing to the door with only one purpose in mind, to escape from the awkward situation.

Selene watched the woman until she disappeared from sight.

"I can't believe a woman with her look is merely a lady's companion. At first I thought she was a debutante."

She commented, glancing furtively at her fiancé. He responded in absolute nonchalance.

"I believe you have no reason to make her your acquaintance."

Impressed by his perfect disguise, Selene shot a fleeting glare at him.

"Why, no? I kind of like her. Don't you think she is lovely?"

She watched his face carefully, determining to catch a glimpse of passing emotion. She wanted to know how he would react to the question.

He glanced at her, then his lashes lowered a bit, as though to conceal his thought before he stared idly ahead.

"You don't need my opinion over such trifles."

Selene had to admit she was impressed by her fiancé's brilliant acting. She was certain he was feeling more than a bit surprised or disturbed, but his face was not showing a trace of it. Had she not known about it before, his acting would be most convincing.

Ava rushed along the long, narrow balcony that led to the servants steps, clutching the wet front of her bodice. She was going back to her room in the East Tower. She needed to change her dress, more importantly, she needed a quiet moment alone. She needed to calm herself down after the unexpected encounter with the duke's fiancée.

She almost reached the servants steps when a lone figure in a short distance ahead drew her attention. She froze, then took an abrupt halting step.

Lord Blackthorne leaned against the stony wall in a relaxed manner, his arms crossed over his chest. He regarded her with a roguish grin.

"I mean it when I said I could help you in some ways."

She looked quickly to the left, to the right, considering the best direction to escape. Back to the drawing room, she decided. As though he could read her mind, he straightened from his lazy position and stepped over her in an alarming speed. She retreated away until her back hit the railing. In a second, he was already so close to her. Just when she was about to flee, he braced his hands on the railing, imprisoned her between his arms. She caught her breath, panic started to pulse through her body.

"I'm not only interested in spending one stolen moment or two with you. I'm talking about a more permanent arrangement."

She choked at the blatantly indecent offer. Just as she expected, the revelation of her true identity would only bring her this.

"I'm offering you safety and all the benefits of being my lover. I'm well known for my generosity and I haven't a mean bone in my body. I swear you will never experience pain from my hands, they will only give you pleasure..."

Struggling to control her shudder, she managed to bring out an irrefutable reply.

"The answer is no."

Something flashed in his grey eyes, but he remained still, then his gaze dropped on her lips.

"I see you need more proof of our compatibility."

His long, slender fingers wrapped firmly around her arms and she nearly jumped in shock. She attempted to slip out his steely grip, but he contained her effort easily. He held her in place with one hand, while flicking her chin with his forefinger. His thumb pressed her lower lip, gently opening it.

"Let go of me, My Lord. We're in an open place."

She reminded him in a shaky voice, wishing it would stop him from whatever he was going to do.

"You have no reason to worry, we will not be discovered. There's no one to see us."

He lowered his mouth on hers and she jerked in rejection, turning her face away from him when his lips brushed hers. She pushed strongly at his chest, but apparently she was no match for his strength. His fingers clutched her chin firmly, turning her face gently toward him. She shuddered, for a second, she thought he would forcibly kiss her.

But he didn't.

He only stared into her eyes in a way that made her heart stop. Then he brought a finger to her mouth. He outlined the edge of her lower lip as she stared back at him in fascination. His fingertip trailed down her throat, which arched automatically against his touch. The finger continued to make its way across her chest and traced a path along her décolletage. She panted, her breath came in short, quick puffs. To her mortification, she didn't find his touch repulsive.

"So soft."

He murmured in appreciation, his gaze dropping to linger on her peeking cleavage, where his finger left a burning trace.

"I want to taste every inch of your skin."

She shoved his hand away abruptly, staring at him with shocked outrage.

"Let me go, or I will scream~"

"You can try, but I don't think somebody will hear."

She opened her mouth to shout, but her voice drown to the heat of his mouth as his tongue plundered her, sending a sudden tiny jolts all over her. This time she recovered from her shock quickly and strained to break herself free. The kiss last only for a short while but the effect would definitely stay longer, leaving her faint and unsteady on her feet.

"I will not force you, just consider my offer. I will wait for your answer patiently,"

Blackthorne felt a wicked satisfaction to see her body trembling in shameful pleasure, his gaze fell on her rosy lips, which were still wet and swollen from his kiss. She could try to deny it, but he knew she wasn't immune to his touch.

"In the meantime, I'll try my best to convince you to accept my offer, any chance that I get."

And with that promise, he left her there, restless and tingling with lingering sensation.

***

Later that evening, she walked across the garden to return to her room in the East Tower. Lady Byrne decided to retire early this evening and she couldn't be more pleased about that. She didn't think she could endure another hour of polite and mundane conversation, pretending to be enthusiastic with the topic while her mind was in total chaos.

This vacation had turned out to be a real disaster, her whole situation was distressing and there was nothing she wanted more than to leave this place, and put anything that happened here behind her. She spent every hour counting down the days until she could go home and return to her peaceful life, away from the haughty, insufferable men of aristocracy who thought they could buy anything in this world with their money and power.

She rushed along the lovely garden path, glancing over her shoulder every now and then as to check if she was being followed. When she passed a darkened path, suddenly a strong hand gripped her arms and she was pulled into a hidden pergola. She jumped and cried in shock but she froze instantly when she recognized her captor. He was not the earl, but he was the other one she wanted to avoid just as much.

She wrested her hand from his grasp and took two steps back. Her heart was thundering against her ribs but she braced herself to challenge his gaze. She refused to subject herself any longer to his intimidation.

"Is that scoundrel still trying to seduce you?"

The duke got to the point without wasting time.

She hated the insolent tone of his voice.

"I don't believe it's any of your concern."

"Is he?!"

He startled her by storming over to her and grasping her wrist, his gloved fingers closed tightly around her slender bone. She gasped at the intimidating gesture, but remained stubborn.

"I don't owe you an answer."

He released her free with a sudden jerk, and sent her a scathing glare.

"For God's sake, you have no idea what kind of man he is. Everybody knows he is one hell of a rake. He sees women nothing more than a toy he could use and discard as he pleases."

Then his gaze cruising over her figure with thinly-veiled disgust.

"You may very well enjoy being his plaything for the time being, but in the end you'll wish to God you'd never set eyes on him."

Gulping with rage and indignation, she blurted impulsively.

"At this moment, I wish to God I never set eyes on you."

She regretted her words the moment she said it. She took a hasty step back in anticipation of his fury, flinching in fear even before he pulled her in his punishing grip. But the storm never came.

She cast a hurried, fearful glance at him, and in an instant, she was transfixed by the strange look on his face. He stood still, staring at her as though she had just given him a sharp blow to the chest.

When he didn't move or say a word, she edged past him, watching him cautiously as though at any moment he might catch her, or even more, he might fall on her like a ravenous animal and... and...

How could she imagine such a thing? She hurried away, leaving him in the shadow. She dashed across the lawn, but halfway to the mansion, she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder. In the distance, the shape of him looked desolate and forlorn, and suddenly, unexpectedly, she felt an aching tenderness.

Foolish of her.

He was the one that hurt her like no other. His hurtful remark cut her to the quick and until now her heart still continued to bleed. Why did she feel compassion for him? She should hate him as hell and give him no thought whatsoever. She should forget anything that ever happened between them. She should forget anything about him.

Which she feared she couldn't do.

Standing still as if paralyzed, Ashton felt it was difficult to draw breath, like the air was trapped in his lungs. Her words stunned him but it was the hatred in her eyes that pierced deep and sliced his soul into pieces. There was an awful pain knotted in his chest and he could hardly breathe.

In all the world, she was the only person who showed him care and tenderness he never experienced in years.

Everything he had ever seen in her, was it just an illusion? She came into his life unexpectedly and she filled a hollow inside him with her warmth. Illusion or real, suddenly he realized he needed the peace and comfort she brought to his soul, and the thought of losing it was awfully insufferable.

This was morbid. He was possessed by a blind, stupid lust. He wanted something even when he knew it was unreal. He wanted it so bad he didn't care about anything as long as it felt so real. But it didn't matter now. She was gone. Gone and done with him, while his blasted mind was still gripped by an endless obsession.

He bet she was hard to get over.

*****