Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(78)

“Do you think she’ll say anything about it if she does notice?” Alec asked, and clicked to the horse. “Not unless she’s willing to risk having the story of her meeting with Brummell spread all over London.”

“You’d actually blackmail her?” Mira demanded, clutching the edge of the sleigh as it coursed smoothly and quickly away from the others.

“I prefer to think of it as exchanging my silence for hers.”

“You are a scoundrel! No wonder she said you…” “I what?” Alec prompted, grinning as she sputtered into silence. The sleigh sped past pine trees glistening with icicles. “Never mind, I can guess. I make her uneasy, don’t I? She doesn’t trust me—” “Obviously she has excellent instincts.’ “—and she doesn’t want me around her poor lamb. Poor defenseless Mira, who carries such interesting toys in her reticule.” “I don’t anymore.” “No daggers today?” “No!”

“It makes no difference,” he said, and stopped the sleigh at the edge of the woods. “You can wound with your words far more deeply.” The stillness of the winter forest was broken by the crackling of ice and branches. It was a world suspended in time, brittle and beautiful.

“They can’t wound you. My words merely glance off you like blunted arrows,” she replied, her voice hushed in the quiet surroundings. Alec shook his head, his smile fading. Suddenly he was serious and tender, and he was staring at her as if he had just realized something he had not understood before.

“Not at all. They strike and sink in deep, and resist my efforts to pull them out.““Alec,” she whispered, “I’m afraid I don’t believe you.”

“Your voice is shaking. You aren’t afraid, are you?”

“I’m cold.”

“I won’t hurt you.” He leaned closer, tracing the curve of her jaw with a gloved fingertip.

Her eyelashes fluttered downward at the smooth, cool touch of leather on her skin, and anticipation held her motionless as he bent his dark head.

His mouth touched hers, and his lips were warm and slow… the sweetness of the kiss seared through her deeply. Their bodies were separated by layers of thick clothing, and all Mira could feel was that hot, intimate kiss burning into her mouth so gently, so persistently. It had been so long, so long since she had felt cherished. He made her feel special, he made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world he wanted. There was a sensual twisting inside of her, and a strong throbbing… her thoughts became confused, and everything faded except him as she responded to him blindly.

As she took a shivering breath, the bitter freshness of winter air filled her nostrils. Needing to be closer to him, she drew her hand from her muff and lifted her fingers to his cheek. The masculine abrasiveness of his skin was there against her fingertips, and her palm curved tenderly around the hard edge of his jaw as she savored the freedom of touching him. His arm tightened around her back… craving the taste of her, Alec slanted his mouth across hers and sought her tongue with his, their lips fused together tightly, until Mira was too overwhelmed to bear it any longer and turned her face away with a gasp.

“Why did you leave Hampshire without a word to me?” he murmured, his breath soft and warm in the fragile indentation behind her jaw. There was a trace of bewilderment in his tone, and something else shedidn’t understand. Mira closed her eyes as she remembered the pain of the day she had left Sackville Manor.

“You gave me no alternative,” she said woodenly.

The Berkeleys were there, offering to take me with them. And Sackville had asked me a few days before hat to leave.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“Would it have made a difference if you had known? You made no promises to me, ever. You didn’t offer me any way out of the situation I was in, not even after the night we…”

“You knew that all you had to do was ask me for help,” Alec said quietly, pulling away from her and staring at her intently. “I would have given you a place of your own, if that was what you wanted—”

“—if I would have consented to be your mistress.” Mira smiled bitterly. “And fool that I was, I probably would have accepted. But I wouldn’t now, not for a palace, not for any amount of money at all. I’ve changed since then, and I’ve begun to see that I want more than you could ever offer me.”

He gripped her upper arms, his gloved hands like steel vises covered with velvet. “What do you expect me to offer you?” he demanded with a sudden flare of anger, his voice hard with frustration. “You know what kind of position I’m in… you know about the responsibilities I have to shoulder. God… I still want you—you can’t help but know that—but I’m a Falkner. I’m the firstborn son. I have to take care of the rest of the family, and someday I have to produce suitable heirs to carry my name. If you were someone different… if I were someone different…”

“I understand,” Mira said quietly, feeling frozen inside. “I understand all of that.”

“Then for God’s sake, would you try to consider accepting what I can give you? I can give you everything, everything but my name. I could make you happy—““No, you couldn’t,” she interrupted swiftly. “You might have been able to once, but not now. It isn’t your fault… it’s just that everything’s changed. I don’t need beautiful clothes or spending money to make me happy. I don’t need theater tickets and balls. I don’t need passion. I don’t want to be dazzled. All I want is a quiet life and a family of my own—I will do my best to get that, and maybe if God is willing I’ll succeed. I don’t understand why I came with you today. I know I shouldn’t have. Rosalie was right: I would have been far better off with someone like Onslow.” She felt him stiffen beside her as she continued. “After we join up with the others and arrive at the Stamford estate, I don’t want to talk to you again. I don’t want to see you again. Fortunately I won’t be attending more than one or two more parties until the spring, so all I ask is that you make the same effort that I will to avoid being near each other.”