Sleepless in Southampton by Chasity Bowlin
Chapter Twenty-Four
Effie sat in the corner of the hired carriage, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Highcliff and wishing him to perdition. He’d held her over his shoulder like he was some sort of dock worker and she was a sack of grain while he’d procured transportation for them. Now, hours later when it was almost dark outside, she had yet to say a word to him.
“You can give me the silent treatment for as long as you like,” he said companionably while shrugging his shoulders. “Frankly, I prefer it when you’re not speaking.”
Effie would not be baited into talking to him. It did bother him. Her silence made him uncomfortable. It was a tactic she’d learned from observing him, after all. Let the silence stretch until someone else feels compelled to fill it.
After a moment, he sighed heavily. “I will not apologize. I am not in the wrong. First, a woman cannot travel alone. Secondly, a woman who is young and beautiful can especially not travel alone. And finally, a woman who is young, beautiful and could be a target for ransom? Really, Effie, I gave you credit for more intelligence than your recent behavior suggests.”
Her jaws ached from the effort it took to hold her tongue, but hold it she did. Highcliff would not goad her. He would not win. He might be stronger, as evidenced by the fact that she was in that coach at all, but stronger in body and stronger in will were entirely different matters.
“You haven’t asked where we’re headed,” he mused aloud.
There was no sound but the creaking of the carriage and the pounding of the horses’ hooves.
Another sigh. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “We’re going to Southampton. I ought to cart you back to London. But if there is one undeniable truth, your pupils create danger out of thin air. I’ve never in my life encountered any group of women quite so prone to finding themselves in dire jeopardy. Was that part of your curriculum? How to locate and attract the attention of villains? Of course, they also manage to land wealthy and titled husbands. I suppose you’re doing something right.”
She wanted to slap the smugness right out of him, but he’d finally done it. He’d finally irritated her to the point she could no longer hold her tongue. “You may think that bit of flesh between your thighs entitles you to say and do as you please, Highcliff, but I’ve yet to meet a man of any real moral fiber or fortitude so you need not bother to take the moral high horse and act as though you are somehow better than the young women who are my students simply because they’ve married and you’ve eluded such a fate.”
“It isn’t about morality,” he said. “I simply have a far better understanding of the misery of marriage than most. Funny though that you would bring them up to aspire to independence and they would all so readily sacrifice it in the face of a title.”
Now she knew he was being intentionally provoking. To intimate that her girls were fortune hunters or social climbers—he wanted a response, he’d get one. “I’ve yet to encounter one man who has the same amount of courage, bravery and resourcefulness as even one of my girls much less the lot of them. As to the charge of their jockeying for social position, were the children not punished for the sins of the father, most of them would outrank their husbands! I’ll thank you to never utter another word about them or me so long as we both occupy this earth. I will submit to your will at this moment, because it happens to coincide with mine. I need to find Sophie. As for you, and whatever it is that you think exists between us, it does not. You are not my husband. You made it quite clear you had no wish to be my lover. And by your own admission, we are not friends. Therefore you have no say in what I do, when I do it, where I do it, or whom I choose to do it with.”
“Isn’t that precisely what led to that situation so many years ago when I was forced to rescue you? You doing as you pleased?” he challenged.
“Is that what it’s called? A rescue? As I recall it,” Effie stated, “I had the situation well in hand and my assailant writhing in agony on the ground before you’d even shown your face.”
“If you are so capable, how was I able to get you into this carriage?”
“Because I chose to let you,” she said. “Because I understood something about you, Highcliff, that you don’t even know about yourself. You are incapable of not playing the hero. I knew that you would go after Sophie. My reasons for not asking for your help were never because I didn’t think you’d grant it. I didn’t ask for your help because I do not need it. I’m perfectly capable on my own. And also because your presence is a complication I’d rather not have to deal with. In short, you’re little better than a nuisance and a predictable one at that.”
His jaw had tightened with anger. “If I’m such a bloody nuisance, why did you try so very hard to get me into your bed?”
Effie smiled coolly. “Because even the most brilliant of women will occasionally make poor choices. I’ve since seen the error of my ways.”
“We locate Miss Upchurch, we get her safely home,” he said, “And then we never have to set eyes on one another again.”
“It cannot happen soon enough for my part,” Effie answered.
“At least we agree on something,” he offered. “And for what it’s worth, I never said I didn’t want to be in your bed. I said I would not. You of all people, Effie, should understand the risks associated with such a scheme. It’s one thing to be a bastard. It’s another thing entirely to beget one.”
“There are ways to mitigate such risks,” she stated firmly. “I’ve done a great deal of research on the matter.”
“Research?” He appeared utterly scandalized. “Please tell me you have not marched into a bookshop in London and asked for texts on how to prevent reproduction!”
“Not at all,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I asked the Hound if he might arrange for me to meet with a woman who could provide instruction for me that I might pass on to my girls.”
“When?” Highcliff glowered. “When did you do this?”
“A few months back,” Effie answered. “It was what gave me the courage required to make my request of you. Little good it did. And no, I have not begun instructing my girls in the manner yet. I encourage them to talk to me about whatever is on their mind and I shall impart the knowledge to them as they require it.”
“Why the devil would you do that?”
She blinked at him. “You mean even the playing field? Why on earth would I give women knowledge which we both know gives them power over their own bodies and their own lives instead of leaving them entirely at the mercy of men who would abandon them at the drop of a hat? I can’t begin to imagine why I would do such a thing,” she finished sarcastically. “You accused me of living in a fantasy world. I promise you, Highcliff, no one is more attuned to the realities of being a woman in this world than I am. Did I not open my heart and my home to countless young girls who are the product of this way of the world that has been accepted for so long? Do not ever preach to me on such. I knew the risks. I informed myself of how to mitigate them. You said no, Highcliff, not for any noble reasons but of your own cowardice. You are afraid to feel. You are afraid to have any deep connection with any person, but especially with a woman who already knows your darkest secrets!”
*
It hadn’t beenhis intent to touch her. But she’d goaded him. She’d pushed him like no other person ever had. And so he found himself up off the carriage seat and looming over her as he braced his hands on the back of the seat she occupied. She was caged there between his arms, but she didn’t cower or give any hint of fear. Her shoulders squared and her chin inched upward as she met his gaze with a raised brow and an air of challenge.
“You never know when to quit, do you, Effie?” The accusation was both bitter and amused. “You must always push just past the boundaries until you make a man want to throttle you!”
“Is that what you want? To throttle me?”
No. No. That wasn’t what he wanted. But what he wanted would ruin them both. Not their reputations. He didn’t give a damn one way or another for that. No, it would ruin them to their souls. It would lay bare every tortured emotion they both had and leave them no armor, no protection from the world or one another.
The carriage hit a rut in the road. He caught himself, but in so doing came even closer to her in the process. Close enough that a stray tendril of her hair caught on his whiskers, close enough that their breaths mingled and he could smell the rose-scented soap she favored. She exhaled again, a shuddering sigh that told the truth of what his nearness had done to her, but her breath fanned over his lips like the sweetest of caresses.
“Damn it all,” he muttered. “Damn it all and damn you.”
He simply took her mouth in that moment. It wasn’t gentle or seductive. It was passionate and angry, hard and claiming. He kissed her with all the ferocity that was born out of wanting her in vain for nearly two decades. He kissed her as if he meant to consume her. And God help him, she kissed him back with equal fervor.
It was a mistake, but like so many mistakes, once made, there was no return. It was irrevocable. It might be the last time he ever kissed her, so he meant to make it count for something. Moving swiftly, he turned so that he was on the seat and pulled her across his lap. Her hands pressed flat against his chest and he paused, just for a second. Did she mean to push away from him? Had she come to her senses long before he did? But no. She simply leaned in to him after she’d gotten her balance, slid her hands up his chest and tangled them in his hair. It wasn’t gentle. She pulled. She bit. It was a little angry, a little vindictive. He didn’t care. It was better than the alternative of not having her sprawled across him with the taste of her lips on his. He’d been denying himself and denying her for far too long.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“The inevitable,” he answered. “The inevitable.”
