Page 42 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
Darius’s words echoed in his mind.
I think you are capable of loving fiercely, as all great loves should be.
11
Suzannah woke to the sensation of being carried. She struggled to open her eyes, the cry of shock dying in her throat when she recognized Kit’s face above her. Kit was carrying her...
She was cradled in his arms, leveled against his firm chest like a child. She gripped the damp material of his shirt, as if suddenly afraid she might fall.
“Kit?”
He glanced down at her, the shadows of the hallway shrouding his eyes. “You shouldn’t sleep in a chair, Suzannah.” His voice, gruff but low, made her shiver. “The boy will be fine tonight. I’m taking you to my bed.”
“Your bed?” Her heart pounded wildly as he maneuvered through the large oak doors of a bedchamber she’d glimpsed before, but it was certainly not the spare room Palmer had made up for her.
“Yes.” The flex of Kit’s jaw betrayed a hesitation that didn’t show in his voice.
“But why?” she persisted.
“Because I wish it. It will calm me to know you are close and safe, and that I am nearby if you need assistance in the night. Besides, I will sleep on the floor,” he added as he strode deeper into the room and placed her carefully on the bed.
Suzannah scrambled to her knees, fidgeting with the clothes she wore—his clothes—so they would adequately cover her. “You can’t sleep on the floor. Surely—”
“I am no stranger to sleeping on the floor.” He turned away from her and walked over to a washbasin. His dark hair was damp, the long ends curling above his ears and the collar of his soaking shirt, which clung to his frame in places, showing hints of the muscles she was becoming more and more familiar with, every sketch she drew. She’d always been so aware of him, of his strength and might, and how easily he could hurt her if he chose to.
Just then she felt a far different awareness, one entirely of the feminine kind. A strange and wonderful heat pooled low in her belly as she thought of her hands touching those muscles, caressing the slopes and sinews in a far more intimate way than from safely sketching at a distance.
She cleared her throat. “Kit, thank you for your consideration, but I cannot take your bed while you sleep on the floor.”
“It will not trouble me, Suzannah. In truth, I haven’t slept in a bed in seven years.”
Whatever she’d been about to say was forgotten. Her throat closed up with a sense of dread as he continued.
“Beds were not provided to convicts, as a general rule. We slept on straw mats or in empty stables. The women were luckier, if one could call it that. They were often given employment in the homes of settlers for their sentences. They had beds, but that didn’t stop a man from taking advantage of them whenever he wished.”
Suzannah’s stomach churned at the thought of any woman being hurt like that against her will.
Kit was quiet a long moment before adding, “I can’t seem to get comfortable anywhere but on the floor.” He turned his face slightly, so that his dignified profile was all she could see. “It is what I am used to.”
Seeing this harsh reality of his past was like cold water upon her face, much like when she’d first seen his scarred back. She was suddenly less weary than she had been moments before. She sat up in his bed, pulling his robe close around her body.
“Kit...”
He braced his hands on the washstand and met her gaze through the mirror, waiting for her to continue.
“Why did you really bring me here, Kit?” She needed to understand this man whose personality had more facets than a cut diamond. What would she see if she managed to see into the heart of him?
“I barely understand it myself,” he confessed, his words soft but full of confusion. “I should want nothing to do with you, but the moment I first saw you, you became an obsession. There is no other word for it.” He slowly turned to face her. “I wanted you before I knew who you were. And then when I learned who you were, I tried to believe I only wanted vengeance. But I can no longer pretend. You could have died tonight, and Christ, it’s been killing me every second not to hold you.” He turned to face her, and she gasped at the stark, desperate need she saw in him. A need to hold on to something after a tragedy... a need that she felt as well. “Thatis why you will be sleeping in my bedchamber tonight. Ineedyou near me.”
“Because... because you care about me?” The thought made her dizzy. Was that part of the reason he had proposed to her in Hyde Park? Was his affection strong enough that he wanted to truly share his life with her as a husband and wife would? She bit her lip, not daring to bring up the proposal, not yet.
From the moment he had saved her from those men, she had seen him as wild and dangerous, and yet with her he had only ever been gentle. Even with his anger, he’d treated her with tenderness. Something within her unfurled itself in the darkness like a moonflower spreading its petals in search of twilight. This mysterious, wounded man held such fire and sweetness within him, a compassion that shouldn’t have existed after all that he had endured. All he wanted was to hold her, and she didn’t wish to deny him that when such a thing was so easy to give, when shewantedto give it with all her heart, when she needed it as much as he did.
She moved over to one side of his large bed and pulled back the covers beside her, placing one palm down on the empty spot in open invitation. “If you sleep upon the floor, you cannot hold me in your arms.” She held her breath, waiting to see how he would react.
Kit stared at her. His fathomless eyes widened a little before narrowing again as he reached up and pulled his neckcloth off. He let it fall to the floor before he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shed that as well. His shirt came next, and her womb clenched as he pulled it over his head and bared his upper body to her. As before, she was in awe of his beauty and ached at the echoes of pain cruel men had left on his flesh. Yet this time, he wasn’t undressing for her to paint him; he was undressing so he could lie beside her. It was an intimacy she had never experienced before, and it both thrilled and terrified her.
He turned his back to her and bent and removed his boots and stockings before removing his wet trousers and small clothes. She glimpsed his hard muscled buttocks as he walked toward the dresser opposite the bed and retrieved a new pair of underclothes. Suzannah couldn’t help but imagine digging her hands into his backside as he lay above her. The feverish thought flamed her cheeks, but she didn’t look away from him. When he turned toward the bed again, they simply stared at each other for a long moment before she nodded at the place in bed beside her..
