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Averil knew she should probe further, but then she wondered whether that was wise. The girl might simply leave; there was nothing to stop her. And then Averil would never discover the truth about Jackson—and she was certain it was Jackson of whom Violet was afraid—and what was happening here at the Home. No, it was better to let her come and perhaps, by building her trust, she would eventually tell the truth.
“Very well, Violet. You can come.”
Violet looked so relieved she might weep. Her lips trembled but she forced emotion back, making Averil realize yet again what a steely character the girl was. “Thank you,” she said, nodding her head. “Thank you, Lady Averil. I-I won’t let you down.”
Later, when she was alone again, Averil thought about the journey ahead of her. She felt a stirring of excitement despite all her current problems. The trip to Southbrook would bring her into close contact with the man who was playing havoc with her senses.
Was it wrong to enjoy his kisses so much?
Averil didn’t think so. The earl of Southbrook was like no other man she’d ever met and she was eager to continue that acquaintance as long as possible. If that was what this was, a simple acquaintance. But something was telling Averil it was rather more than that.
In Lord Southbrook she had found a man who was everything she wanted—well almost, and she refused to allow his social position to affect her. As a member of the Husband Hunters Club, her mind turned naturally to marriage, and skittered away again. It was too soon for that, surely? But then again, her friends would tell her she needed to move fast once she’d found her prey, that she needed to secure his heart and his hand, if she was to be a happy wife.
She had never met a man like Rufus before. She had never been in love before. Marriage had seemed something far into the future. Suddenly the whole thing seemed overwhelming. Averil took a deep breath. She would go forth cautiously, she told herself. And then she gave a little smile.
One kiss at a time.
Rufus woke with a start and sat up.
The erotic dream lingered and he groaned. Every night he seemed to be involved in some passionate encounter with Averil, leaving him feeling irritable and out of sorts in the morning. His body wasn’t helping, either. Her presence was having an effect on him that was becoming embarrassing, something he hadn’t had to deal with since he was a callow youth lusting after the pastor’s eldest daughter.
What was he to do?
Marry her. The answer came back promptly. Marry her and bed her.
He supposed taking her to Southbrook was his logical next step. Once she was there he could pop the question. Assuming the castle was in a fit state to receive visitors. Which reminded him, he must send James ahead to deal with the situation.
Rufus lay down again and closed his eyes. Soon he would be able to take the real flesh-and-blood Averil in his arms, instead of dreaming about her. He couldn’t be mistaken in the way she’d looked at him? The way she’d returned his kisses? No, she wanted him to ask her to marry him.
“And I will,” he muttered feverishly to himself. “I bloody well will!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
* * *
Averil touched his face lightly with her fingertips, tracing the line of the scar that ran down his cheek. His skin was warm and she wanted to lean forward and kiss him, the urge so great that she couldn’t resist, but just as her lips brushed his cheek he turned and smiled at her. The pins in her hair were falling out, but evidently not quick enough for him because he reached up and removed some, allowing her hair to tumble free around her bare shoulders.
Averil looked down.
She was naked, entirely so. Before she could do anything to cover herself up, Rufus had slipped his arms about her and lifted her effortlessly. He began to carry her across the room—it wasn’t one she could recall seeing before—toward an enormous four-poster bed.
“At last you’re mine,” he was saying, which didn’t sound quite the sort of thing he would say, which made her think this was a dream after all.
He bent his head to kiss her. In a moment they would be on the bed together and she was aching feverishly for him to make her his. “Rufus, please . . .” she murmured.
The bed seemed to be rocking now and she clung to him when he went to put her down, suddenly frightened. And now that she looked into the shadows more carefully she realized there were other people sitting there, Beth and Violet and Eustace, and . . . and Hercules!
“Averil? Averil, wake up, we’re nearly there.”
Averil blinked sleepily from her corner of the coach. She realized she’d been dreaming, and a very wa
rm dream it had been, too. She was grateful Rufus was not in the coach with her; he’d refused to share it with Hercules and was riding a black horse called Midnight. Beth and Violet and Eustace were with her, and it was quite crowded enough. Thankfully, it had been decided that James should go on ahead and see to the castle being made ready for the guests.
“Averil, we’re nearly there,” Beth said, peering around Violet toward the window. Eustace was slouched on the opposite seat, looking bored, and Hercules wore much the same expression.
“We are miles and miles from the castle,” Eustace said scornfully.
“Yes, but we are very close to Lady Averil’s old nanny’s house,” Beth replied tartly. “Do sit up, Eustace, you’re slouching dreadfully.”
