Immortal Rogues - My Lord Eternity Part 14

She recalled the giddy excitement she felt when he walked into the room and the petulant annoyance when he seemed indifferent to her charm. He swiftly consumed her every thought.

Now she could only wonder at her vast stupidity.

"He was very clever. Of all the gentlemen who fought to gain my favor, he alone remained aloof. No matter how I flirted, he refused to be captivated."

"Which only made you more determined to capture his elusive attention," he swiftly concluded.

"Of course." She gave a short, humorless laugh. "It was all a game to him. A game which he had mastered, while I was a b.u.mbling idiot."

Lucien s.h.i.+fted closer, his breath brus.h.i.+ng the bare skin of her neck with delicious warmth.

"What happened?"

Her hands unconsciously clenched in tight fists, the nails biting into her palms. It was only in her nightmares that she ever allowed the haunting memories to return.

"I was attending Lady Glendale's ball. It was absurdly stuffy, and I stepped onto the terrace.

Lord Patten joined me there. As usual, he was quite flippant, and I grew annoyed at his mocking disdain." She was forced to pause and take a steadying breath. "I informed him that I was not quite the innocent fool that he thought me to be."

"I presume that he was eager to discover the truth of your words?" he demanded in scathing tones.

"He dared me to join him in a nearby grotto. I quite willingly agreed."

Without warning Lucien was gently but quite firmly turning her to meet his probing gaze. She was startled to discover the grim expression that had hardened his elegant features.

"He attempted to seduce you?"

Embarra.s.sed heat flooded her cheeks at his blunt question. "Yes."

The golden eyes s.h.i.+mmered with a formidable danger. "Did he harm you?"

Jocelyn gave a slow shake of her head. In truth it would be easier to admit if Lord Patten had forced himself upon her. At least then she could lay the blame upon him. But she could not in all honesty deny that she was quite eager to explore the heat of his kisses.

"No. It was all terribly exciting for a brief time. This was the danger I had desired. Then ...

my father came in search of me."

He grimaced. "That was no doubt unpleasant."

A sharp, ruthless pain flared through her as the bitter words of her father echoed through her mind. "He was furious, of course. He demanded that Lord Patten wed me by special license."

"But the n.o.bleman refused?"

"Yes. He claimed that I had followed him to the grotto and tossed myself upon him."

Disdain rippled over Lucien's countenance. "A coward as well as a rake."

"And a liar," she added for good measure. "In truth I was relieved I was not to be forced to wed him. I realized at that moment that such a marriage would be a misery."

His hand lifted to cup her cheek. "I am relieved as well. You deserve much better than the likes of Lord Patten. Still, it could not have been easy for you."

"It was horrid," she retorted, her stomach rolling with a queasy regret. "The word of my scandal spread through London by the next morning. My parents..."

"What, Jocelyn?" he demanded as her words trailed to silence. "What did they do?"

She struggled to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. Never before had she confessed to anyone the bitter confrontation she had endured with her parents. She was uncertain that she could even speak the words.

"I... they informed me that the shame I had brought upon them was insufferable," she at last managed to get out in bleak tones. "As far as they were concerned, I was now dead and would be sent to live with a distant cousin. I would be given a quarterly allowance, but I was never to enter their house or attempt to contact them again. Not ever."

Eight.

Lucien smothered the instinctive flare of fury that raced through him. Obviously the Kinglys were pathetic, unworthy fools who cared more for their reputation than their own child. They should be publicly disdained along with the wretched Lord Patten.

Still, his concern was for Jocelyn and the bitterness that lingered within her. A bitterness that would eventually destroy her if she did not discover a means to heal her past.

Once again his vengeance must be held.

Allowing his fingers to gently stroke the skin of her pale cheek, he gazed deep into her troubled eyes.

"Oh, my dove," he murmured softly. "It is no wonder that you carry such wounds."

She shuddered at his words, but she grimly attempted to keep her expression calm.

"I have accepted their decision."

Lucien gave a slow shake of his head. He was too closely bound to this woman not to sense the pain just below the surface. He could feel it as if it were his own.

A rather frightening realization.

"No, we all seek the love and approval of those we hold dearest. Even if they are undeserving of our need."

"My parents' love and approval was based solely upon my ability to wed a gentleman of prominence." She grimaced. "Once I had destroyed that hope, I was worthless to them."

"Then they are fools," he growled, regarding the delicate features with a glittering gaze. How could anyone hurt this sweet, gentle maiden? It was inconceivable. "You have done great deeds without regard to the sacrifice to yourself. They should take pride in what you do."

"Pride?" She gave a short laugh. "Good heavens. They would be horrified if they knew what I do."

"Because their souls are empty. Do not judge yourself by their worthless values."

She frowned at his soft words. "What?"

His fingers slipped beneath her chin, keeping her puzzled gaze locked with his own.

"You blame yourself for being a disappointment to them."

Her eyes darkened, but she did not glance away. He would not allow her to turn from the truth of his words.

"Perhaps," she at last admitted in low tones.

"And you allow yourself to doubt your own worth because of them."

"No-"

"Jocelyn." He firmly interrupted her instinctive refusal to confront her pain. "Do you truly believe you could have been fulfilled following the path they desired for you? There is much more to you than a shallow desire for wealth and position. You would have been imprisoned in such an existence."

For a moment he feared that she would refuse to even consider his words. Then slowly her features softened. Lucien knew that she was considering the image of herself in one of the numerous elegant homes with nothing more to do with her time than darting from one mindless entertainment to another. She would have soon been miserable in such a dull routine.

She was too intelligent, too driven to achieve a meaning in her life to be content playing the role of social matron.

Still, he could sense that she was not yet prepared to dismiss the scandal that had so altered her life.

"That does not excuse the shame that I brought to my family," she said slowly.

He gave an impatient click of his tongue. "I believe you have been more than adequately punished for any mistakes you made as a very young maiden."

"I fear that my parents would never be so forgiving."

Lucien allowed his disdain to harden his features. Someday soon he would indulge himself in confronting the Kinglys. It would be a great pleasure to reveal just how contemptible he found them to be.

"Their forgiveness is meaningless," he said sternly, his fingers grasping her chin. "It is your own forgiveness that you must seek. Allow the past to heal, Jocelyn. Only then will you find peace."

"I... I wish it were that simple."

"It is," he a.s.sured her, his expression softening as he stepped closer and smiled into her wide gaze. "The past is done. It no longer determines who you are. It is the future that you must concentrate upon."

A silence fell as Jocelyn allowed herself to consider his persuasive arguments. Lucien forced himself to remain quiet, knowing that this maiden must discover for herself that she no longer need punish herself for mistakes that were long gone. She had created the wounds and she must heal them.

At last a rueful smile curved her lips as she allowed her gaze to roam over his dark countenance.

"Who are you?" she demanded without warning.

Lucien stilled, his expression suddenly wary. "What do you mean?"

"There is something about you. Something . . . different."

"Certainly I am different from Lord Patten," he agreed, suddenly eager to distract her. She was far too shrewd not to eventually realize he was not the usual London dandy. And with the power of the Medallion slowly heightening her senses, she was even more dangerous. "I would never harm you, Jocelyn. Certainly I would never abandon you."

The dark blue eyes s.h.i.+mmered with a brief glow before she sternly gained command of her emotions.

"You will be gone in just a few weeks," she reminded him in cold tones. Lucien smiled wryly. As much as he might admire this maiden for her stubborn will, there were times when it was decidedly inconvenient.

He would have to battle for every step closer he might take to her.

"I shall be here as long as you have need of me," he swore with unmistakable sincerity. "That I promise you."

Another silence descended before she was pulling free and abruptly turning about to hide her expressive countenance.

"I have built a good life for myself," she muttered, speaking more to herself than to him.

"You have created a life that is devoted to others," he corrected her with a hint of frustration.

"What of yourself?"

She lifted a slender shoulder. "I find pleasure in saving the women I do from the streets."

"And you are never lonely?"

"I... I have Meg."

Lucien gave a loud snort, considering a lifetime filled with no one but the sharp-tongued servant as companions.h.i.+p.

"She is no doubt a fine companion, but she cannot fulfill all your needs."

She turned to regard him with open suspicion. "Needs?"

Readily taking advantage of her proximity, Lucien wrapped his arms about her waist, bringing her close enough so he could hear the very beat of her heart.

"Enjoyment. Desire." He paused. "Love."

Her brow furrowed. "Such desires are dangerous."

He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against her own. Their breaths mingled as he allowed the sweet warmth of her to seep into his body.

"No," he denied in fierce tones. "Allowing life to slip past while you hide in fear is dangerous.

There is no more bitter regret than looking back and wondering what might have been had you dared to risk it all."

He felt her s.h.i.+ver even as she gave a soft, rueful chuckle. "You are very persistent, Lucien."

"Only because I know I am right."

"So confident?"

"I live in hope." Unable to resist temptation any longer, he s.h.i.+fted the small distance to gently cover her lips. It was an innocent caress, no more than the briefest of touches. But, as a sharp, hungry pleasure flared through Lucien, he pulled back in sudden awareness. He ached for this woman. Ached for her with a need that was becoming dangerously painful. He was playing with fire to remain so intimately close to her. Reluctantly dropping his arms, he took another step backward, his expression tight with suppressed desire. "Now, I am weary of this house. What shall we do today?"

He had the satisfaction of watching Jocelyn struggle to regain her own composure as she needlessly fussed to straighten the skirts of her peach gown.

"Well, we could go to the market for Meg, and then to the bazaar to search for clothing for the children..."

"No." He adamantly refused her brisk suggestions. The bright sunlight that slanted through the window demanded that he flee the confines of the smothering city. "I desire to leave London.