Page 13 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
“Your hair is beautiful,” he said, in a husky voice.
She bit her lip, gazing down at the ground. He felt his own colour deepening. Why had he said that? It had just seemed to march out of his mouth. But he knew that she wouldn’t acknowledge it. The comment seemed to hover between them for a moment. She was the first to break the silence.
“It would be my pleasure if you would both join me for dinner tonight,” she said, glancing at him almost shyly. “Cook is making a roast lamb, with all the trimmings. Nothing fancy, but it is substantial, and there are lashings of gravy …”
“Sounds grand,” said David quickly, grinning. “I cannot remember the last time I had a roast!”
“Then it is a deal,” she said, gazing at him warmly. Then she turned back to Jasper, staring at him. “And what about you, Mr Stone?”
Jasper knew he should say no. He knew that he should make his excuses. His intuition that she was somehow dangerous was proving correct. His desire for her was growing, almost by the minute, the more time that he spent in her company. Having dinner with her would almost be torture.
But they were both gazing at him expectantly, and David had already agreed to it. It would seem churlish of him to refuse, now. He took a deep breath.
“Of course, Mrs Drake,” he said slowly. “It would be our pleasure, as well.”
“That is settled, then,” she said beaming. “Dinner is served at six sharp, in the dining room. I will see you both there this evening.” She paused. “Thank you for suggesting I ride Blitzen, Mr Stone. Despite what happened, it was good … I feel as if something has shifted a little, inside of me.”
He swallowed a sudden lump that had formed in his throat at her words. “I am glad, Mrs Drake. For your sake.”
She nodded, turning away. Without another word, she walked slowly away, back towards the house.
He watched her depart, frowning deeply. He had never expected that he would feel this way about her. It had taken him completely by surprise; totally blindsided him.
She was an immensely desirable woman, but it wasn’t as simple as that. If it was mere lust, he could strangle it before it took root. He had dealt with intense crushes before; sometimes, it just wasn’t meant to be. He had always been able to control it in the past.
But it was more than that, with her. He liked her, as much as he desired her. And then, there was the mystery of what had happened with her late husband. Instinctively, he knew that air of suffering she exuded was connected to him. And it wasn’t as clear cut as a woman grieving the man she had loved.
She had mentioned that they had argued, the night he had died. Her voice had trembled, just uttering the words, and her face had changed. His frown deepened, thinking about it. All couples argued from time to time, and of course, she would be regretful of it; they were the last words that she had ever spoken to him. But again, he instinctively knew that it wasn’t that simple.
She feared him, he thought suddenly.The arguing was normal for them.
He watched her disappear into the house. His heart suddenly felt as heavy as a rock.
What had Gilbert Drake done to her? Because he knew, now, that he had done something. Susannah Drake wasn’t a normal grieving widow. Susannah Drake was a woman who was still in agony, about what had been done to her, as well as dealing with grief on top of it.
No wonder she looked wounded, he thought darkly. No wonder.
Chapter 6
Susannah sipped her wine pensively, gazing at her dinner guests, who were sitting across from her, at the far end of the long table.
Jasper Stone, the handsome horse master, had scrubbed himself well. The dirty white shirt and work trousers he had been wearing that day were gone, replaced by respectable dark breeches, a clean white shirt, and jacket. His dark hair was slicked back. She almost wouldn’t have recognised him.
One thing was the same, though. Those ice-blue eyes, that seemed to penetrate deep into her soul.
She turned to his apprentice, David Bragg. The young man looked a bit younger than his two and twenty years; fresh-faced, and handsome, in a boyish way. David was shorter than Jasper, with a wiry physique, straight corn coloured hair, and brown eyes. He looked like he couldn’t believe his luck, that he was sitting at this table, eating and drinking fine wine.
“Are you enjoying the roast lamb, David?” she asked warmly, taking another sip of her wine.
He grinned at her, clutching his knife and fork. The plate in front of him was piled high with the roasted meat, plus various vegetables smothered in brown gravy. “Almost as good as my old nan used to make, madam!”
“Almost?” teased Susannah, smiling. “Mrs Dean, my cook, will not like to hear that!”
“He is joking,” said Jasper, fixing her with his ice-blue gaze. “He doesn’t have an old nan at all, never name one who fed him roast lamb.”
David rolled his eyes. “Now you are spoiling the fun,” he pouted. He turned to Susannah. “But Jasper is quite right, madam. I am an orphan – I do not have any family at all, to speak of. I surely never got home-cooked meals, that is certain.”
“I am so sorry,” said Susannah. “It must have been so hard …”
