17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

T wo days he gave it.

Two days of avoiding both Izzie and Sylvie.

Hiding in his own damn castle.

But there was nothing for it. He couldn’t be around Izzie without his palms itching, his knuckles cracking, his fingers desperate to slide under the atrocious wool cloth of those old dresses Sylvie had found for her and strip it off her skin.

After his disastrous interaction with Izzie in the undercrofts, he’d intensified his efforts on his plan for her. He needed her out of the castle. If she was gone, the way she’d infiltrated his dreams would stop. Waking up with a blistering hot, raging cock would stop. Obsessing over what she was doing at any given moment when he needed to be working on the future of Ravenstone needed to stop.

All of it needed to stop.

Leave him to the dark, silent hallways of the castle. To his solitary walks along the cliffs.

He hadn’t had that peace he’d worked so hard to achieve since she’d arrived. And he was starting to wonder if he’d ever have it again.

It was time to get both of the women out of Ravenstone.

He’d set Sylvie on one last task before he moved forward with his plan for Izzie. A task he’d ordered two days ago—one that would consume both women and keep them far from him.

Teach Izzie to dance.

It was the last thing Izzie needed to learn before it was reasonable to move forth with his plan. For if he didn’t get to it soon, he was beginning to question if he ever would.

In the rare moments these last weeks when he’d allowed honesty with himself, he’d acknowledged that the darkest parts of him wanted Izzie to stay here at Ravenstone, a little bird he kept in a cage for his own pleasure.

He was terrified that if she stayed much longer, he may just start to listen to the whispers of that demon inside of him.

A knock came on his study door and Thomas looked up from the open ledger in front of him, the one he hadn’t been able to actually look at for the last three hours, his right ear constantly straining for sounds from the library where he knew Sylvie and Izzie were practicing dance formations.

“Come,” he barked out, unnecessarily harsh. But it was exactly as biting as every other word that had come out of his mouth in the last year. Something he’d only just noticed in the last few weeks.

Miss Derrington’s head popped into the room, followed by her creamy, ample breasts mounded up high from the bodice of her red dress, angled just so at him for the perfect vantage point.

Breasts he admired for the sheer perfection of them, but breasts that also did very little to his cock.

Not that he would take advantage either way.

Irritating how easy it was to not let those breasts get to him, yet the curvature of Izzie’s neck, right behind her ear, sent his cock twitching every time he caught a glimpse of it under her dark hair. His mind running rampant to imaginations of sinking his shaft deep into her as he buried his face in that exact spot.

Miss Derrington flashed him a brilliant smile. “My lord, I do think I’ve achieved your latest request of me. Izzie has memorized all the proper steps to six basic dances. That should get her through almost any ball or social event.” An excited flush colored her cheeks, like she’d run down the hall to tell him the good news, hoping he’d celebrate with them.

His face remaining stoic, he inclined his head to her. “Noted. Thank you.”

Her face fell ever so slightly, though she managed to hold the smile on her lips. “Would you like to approve? We can show you, or you can test her. I do not want to disappoint you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh.” She shook her head slightly. “It is just that I had hoped to play the pianoforte for a few of the numbers, if you would be so kind as to step in as her partner. Jensen does not know how to play, nor dance, and I did inquire with Cook, but she just laughed at me. If you would be so kind, Izzie has never danced to actual music, just me humming the tunes as I took the lead on the dances. A final exam on them, if you will?”

Thomas sucked in a sigh, the grumble in his throat not audible beyond the inside of his own head. Dancing with Izzie was not smart. But it also would afford a chance to have his hands along her body in an appropriate, non-madness-inducing way. That may be just the thing he needed to wash the feel of her out of his skin.

Or the very thing the demon in him was ravenous for.

He glared at Sylvie for a long moment before that unscrupulous, depraved part of him took over, convincing him he would just watch one innocent dance. That was all. Innocent.

“I will come for one dance. To watch.”

The smile on Miss Derrington’s face exploded like bright sunlight, her whole being glowing as though he’d just bestowed a diamond necklace on her. “Excellent.”

Thomas stood, grabbing his coat from where it hung on the back of his chair, and he followed Miss Derrington down the corridor as he shoved his arms into the coat sleeves. He didn’t have a waistcoat on, but best to at least be half dressed for the occasion.

Miss Derrington looked over her shoulder at him, excitement in her voice. “Thank you so much for taking the time to come and see. I first want to show you the pirouette waltz, as Izzie is having problems rotating out of the pirouette, but I rather think it is because I am not a strong enough partner to turn her properly.”

She walked into the library, where they had pushed all of the furniture and the several large tables to the sides of the room to make space for a dance floor. It would have been easier if the pianoforte had been in the main drawing room, but when he was a child, his mother had liked the music in this room. She’d always said the books made the sound float around like fairy magic.

Of the limited memories he had of his mother, he did remember that—she loved to play the pianoforte as he flipped through books he didn’t understand.

His father had never moved the pianoforte once she died.

Izzie stood on the side of the room, staring out into the forest that lined this side of the estate, the dormant trees swaying in rhythmic waves from the wind blowing in from the sea.

At the sound of their footfalls, she turned away from the window, her look landing on him. He hadn’t been in the same room with her since he’d left her in the undercrofts after he’d kissed her. He braced himself.

Her dark blue eyes were tumultuous at the moment, almost as though she wasn’t sure if she should be happy or afraid or mad to see him. Probably all of the above.

“May we show you?” Looking hopeful, Miss Derrington stepped in front of him, though she wasn’t tall enough to block Izzie from his view.

He didn’t want to tear his gaze away from Izzie’s eyes, not until he could read exactly what was in them and how he fared in that assessment, but then Miss Derrington’s question hung in the room for an awkward moment too long.

He snapped his gaze away from Izzie and looked to the governess. “Yes. Show me.”

He moved to the edge of the room and leaned back on the heavy mahogany table that had to have been a bear to move. They must have enlisted Jensen’s help.

“How did you move all the furniture?”

As she glanced at him over her shoulder, Miss Derrington motioned to Izzie and Izzie joined her in the middle of the room. “We commandeered your driver to help us. Jensen was nowhere to be found. Hal was happy to help—he is wiry, but he is stronger than I anticipated.”

An instant slice of jealousy slid through Thomas. He didn’t want that driver anywhere near Izzie. Much less showing off his supposed strength.

Miss Derrington and Izzie set their hands on each other and started moving in time to Miss Derrington’s humming. It was slightly comical, for Izzie was two inches taller than her governess, yet Miss Derrington was leading the dance, forcing Izzie to take the steps that she was obviously still hesitant at.

Sure enough, at the spin out from the pirouette, Izzie took a misstep and Miss Derrington had a hard time steering her in the right direction to recover swiftly.

They finished out the dance, and Miss Derrington turned to him. “You saw, I imagine, the stumble? I do think that it is my weakness as a lead that has her misstepping.”

Izzie was hiding behind her. Hiding from him? Or more likely, Miss Derrington had set herself in between them on purpose.

He shrugged. “It was a minor misstep.”

Miss Derrington turned to the side, her hand lifting toward Izzie like she was presenting a prized mare. “Mayhap you will dance with her and steer her correctly through that part of the dance? I will play the piece on the pianoforte.”

Dancing with Izzie in his library, setting his hands on her when it was the one thing he needed to hold himself against was foolish madness.

But then the darkness snaked up along the back of his neck, whispering in his ear. What could it hurt? A simple dance, nothing more.

A simple dance. Nothing more. Correct her steps and he would be done.

He nodded.

“Excellent.” Miss Derrington’s hands clasped together and she hurried to sit at the pianoforte, her face beaming in her success at his participation.

His gaze shifted to Izzie. She was looking at Miss Derrington with a spark of the devil in her eyes, like she was amused at how insistent her governess was in fawning over him.

He cleared his throat and Izzie’s look whipped to him, her face sobering like she’d been caught having fun when no fun was ever allowed at Ravenstone.

The first notes clinked from the pianoforte as Miss Derrington warmed up, and Thomas gave a bow to Izzie, holding his hand out to her.

It took her several beats too long before she took it, and the instant her fingers slid into his hand, he knew this was a mistake.

With that one touch, the air between them shifted, twisted into a manic, vibrating energy that sent all his nerves to spark, his breath going shallow in his chest.

To counteract it, his jaw jutted downward, hardening as he stared at her. The motions from long ago he’d thought he’d forgotten suddenly flowed naturally into his limbs with the music, and he set them both into motion.

Promenade, pirouette, arms up, their bodies far too close, waltz. Izzie was effortless as a partner, following his lead, not attempting to outstep him or rush him. Easy to ply across the temporary dance floor, her gaze had locked onto his face, not twitching away for even the slightest moment—complete trust in him for guiding her through this.

A heady thought, for all he could think of in that moment was how it would be to guide her through all he wanted to do to her body. How he could touch her. How she would look up at him as he sent her into ecstasy. Trust and she would be rewarded, again and again and again until his cock had rid itself of its obsession with her.

The music nothing but faraway noise for the blood pumping in his ears, they hit the last pirouette into promenade and he set pressure on her lower back, guiding her directly into the steps of the promenade, and her feet were flawless, trusting him with every step.

Trust. Reward.

So confident he would guide her through this, her stare refused to stray from his eyes as they danced, even as she moved from his front to his side and back again. For as intimate as the dance was, he couldn’t look away, couldn’t bring himself to break eye contact with her, the dark blue in her eyes a storm of the deepest waters that was reaching out, drawing him in, pulling him down into her depths.

His feet stopped on cue with the end of the music, but he didn’t pull away, didn’t break eye contact.

Neither did she.

Her jaw slightly unhinged, her lips parted with quickened breaths. One after another. A blush tingeing the highlights of her cheekbones. The edges of her lips curling in the most innocent smile.

A sudden cough from Miss Derrington.

The moment broke and Izzie gasped, her look dropping to his chest as she took a step backward, pulling herself from his hold.

“Excellent, my lord.” Miss Derrington stood from the pianoforte and wedged herself between him and Izzie, her eyes aglow as she gazed up at him. “You are a splendid dancer. I imagine you have made plenty of young debutantes swoon in London ballrooms.”

His stare cut to Miss Derrington. “What I have or have not done in the past is of no consequence.”

The edges of her eyes crumpled in surprise at his sharp tone. “Of course, my lord. I meant no disrespect.”

He glared down at her, not giving her any words, nor softening his countenance. Not the slightest wrinkle of kindness she could grasp on upon.

Yet she didn’t cower, the smile on her face spreading brighter as she looked over her shoulder at Izzie, then back to him. “I did wonder if you would like Izzie to learn how to perform a slow waltz as well? You could dance with me so we could show her?” The governess tilted her body slightly forward, the slope of the top half of her bare breasts angled to him, enticing him with the most obvious invitation.

An invitation he was sick of looking at.

He took a step backward and to the side so he had a direct line to Izzie, even though he kept his cold gaze on Miss Derrington. “That will not be necessary, me dancing with you. Nor will any more of your services be necessary.”

She started, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean that Izzie is no longer feral, not that she ever truly was. She can now dance the requisite dances, she can eat properly at a table, and she speaks in full sentences, all of them making sense. It is what I required out of you, which means I am done with your services here at Ravenstone.”

“But—”

His glare sliced into her, leaving no room for argument. “We are done. Pack your belongings.”

Her mouth opening and closing repeatedly, Miss Derrington looked back at Izzie, then to him several times. “With all due respect, my lord, I am not sure my job with Izzie is done.”

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for patience. He only found a tiny sliver. “With all due respect, Miss Derrington, I have grown tired of you attempting to catapult this position into something more permanent in my household.”

Her mouth gaped, her eyes wide at him. “Whatever do you mean?”

The sliver of patience deserted him. “Quite frankly, I mean your insistence in trying to finesse your way into my bedchamber.”

Her head began to shake, along with her hands. “I do not know what you are insinuating, my lord.”

“You know exactly what I am insinuating, Miss Derrington, and though I tire of your attempts, I do give you kudos for your persistence. But I am done. I no longer require your services.”

“My lord, if this is about keeping Izzie’s initial feral act a secret, I can assure you?—”

“I don’t need your assurances. Nor do I need you in this castle any longer. I am not interested in your charm, in your smiles, or in your witty conversations, Miss Derrington. Izzie will be fine with or without your help.”

Miss Derrington’s mouth pulled to a tight line, her stare burning him on the stake he knew he should be tied to, and then she gave him a curt nod. “As you wish, my lord.”

She turned from him and moved to the doorway of the library. Just before she stepped out of the room, she half-turned back toward him. “Will you need a chaperone for Izzie? You will need one if you are to put her out in society.”

“Wait—what?” Izzie jumped toward him and into his line of vision, panic on her face. “You think to put me out in society?”

He glared down at Izzie for a long moment, his jaw working back and forth. “Not if I can help it.”

Her brow furrowed and she moved closer to him. “What does that mean?”

“Wait.” His arm rose, outstretched toward Miss Derrington and he lifted his forefinger. “One.”

“One, what?” Miss Derrington asked.

He stepped away from Izzie toward Miss Derrington but kept his distance from the governess. “We will need you as a chaperone for one event in Edinburgh in three days. And I will need you to outfit Izzie in finery that befits the family name before the event. Get her out of these drab dresses. You will stay on as her chaperone. After the event we can deliver you to the employment agency and you may find your next assignment.”

Indignation burning her cheeks, Miss Derrington’s eyes narrowed at him. “That is all?”

“You are dismissed, Miss Derrington.”

The red in her cheeks bleeding into her forehead, she gave him a slight nod and left the room.

He stared at the open doorway.

An ass, he was, but he needed to get rid of the woman, beautiful and charming though she was. There was no place for her kind in his life. There never would be.

When he was assured Miss Derrington wasn’t returning with a revived plea to stay, he turned around, only to nearly bump into Izzie who had been standing silently at his backside.

Her head cocked to the side, she stared up at him with what he could only interpret as disappointment. Not fear, and the panic in her eyes from a moment ago had disappeared.

It sent a twitch of discomfort down his spine to have her looking at him like that. Like he was a failure in some fashion.

“What?”

Her lips pulled inward and she looked down, her arms crossing over her ribcage.

“Say whatever it is that has put that condemning look upon your face.”

Her face remained tilted down, but her eyes lifted to him. “It was cruel, what you just did.”

He grunted, the lines of his face pulling tight, and he stepped around her, his arms going wide to grab the edges of one of the library tables that had been pushed to the side. “I did what was necessary.”

“It wasn’t necessary to be cruel.”

He lifted the table and backed up to move it to its original location, just where he remembered it. Just where he needed it. “Anything less than a direct acknowledgment of what it was that Miss Derrington was trying to achieve here would have elongated a conversation that had no future. It is how the world works, Izzie. Cruelty is efficient.”

She winced, her head snapping back.

He dropped the heavy table into place.

“Cruelty is efficient?” She whispered the words back to him, her head shaking. “Sylvie is my friend and she didn’t deserve your scathing rudeness, no matter how efficient you needed to be. She has done nothing in the household except to help me and try to be pleasant to you.”

His right eyebrow lifted, his words biting. “So I should take her to my bed? Would that be accommodating enough for you?”

Her jaw fell with an intake of breath. It took a full thirty seconds before her head started to shake, her voice quivering. “I don’t know what you expect me to say to that.”

“How about nothing.” He stomped to the next table and yanked it upward. “How about not looking at me with judging eyes. How about leaving me the hell alone, Izzie?”

He tromped the table to its spot and slammed it into place, the wooden legs nearly splitting under its own weight.

She looked struck for a long breath, then fire like he’d never seen before lit in her eyes as she stared at him. “I have told you some of what I suffered.”

“And?” He spat the word out at her, meant to shut her up.

Instead, her spine just pulled straighter and she took a step toward him, her voice shifting into an even tone from the tremble it had been. “And just because injustices have been done to me, it doesn’t mean I have any right to rain injustices upon others. I have suffered, but that has never made me want to be mean.” Her arms unfolded and her hands set on her hips—a battle stance if he ever saw one.

“I don’t know what exactly has happened to you, but I imagine it has been terrible by what little you have told me. Someone was cruel to you, yes, but to send that back out into the world—that is a choice. A choice you are making every time you say something hateful. Every time you are mean when you are in the position to be kind. Mrs. Dellcrane was that—kind when she could have been wicked. Every one that walked into her cottage deserved it for how they treated her. But she never sank to that level. It is always a choice.”

Her head shook, her top lip curling in disgust. “You talk about the existence of honor? That is true honor, Thomas—choosing to be kind when you have all the power not to be. So if I am looking at you with judging eyes, it is because I am. I am judging the man you are and I find him lacking, no matter what has happened to make him so. If cruelty is efficient, then let me be efficient as well. You are a misguided, spoiled, cantankerous arse willing to burn down everything around him for no discernable purpose—and that existence? It is a sad one. You have my sympathies, but not my respect.”

She spun on her heel and charged for the door.

Probably because she could see how close he was to throttling her against a wall.

She turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Good riddance.

Why in the hell did she have the right to demand more from him? She didn’t. No one did.

And…hell.

He instantly missed her—her eyes studying his movements like she did, her voice, the smiles that came hard won to her face.

She didn’t respect him. And for that, she was willing to risk his wrath. Willing to walk away from him.

He was an arse. A wretched one.

His feet started moving before he’d caught his breath.

His hand grabbing the jamb of the doorway, he yanked himself into the corridor, spotting Izzie at the end of the hallway. “Izzie—wait. Wait.”

She stopped, turning around to him, her face a cool mask.

“I will pay Miss Derrington for the next six months, enough time for her to choose her next assignment wisely. I need her out of Ravenstone, but she will be taken care of as she considers her next move.”

Izzie blinked hard, surprise registering on her face. “That…that is kind of you. Thank you for taking care of her. But…”

“But what, Izzie? What?” His arm flew up at his side. “What more do you want from me?”

She took four steps back toward him, her voice hesitant. “What are you going to do with me? You need me for one event in Edinburgh. Why? Is there an asylum there you mean to stick me in?”

His head snapped back. “An asylum? Damn. No. No, it’s not an asylum I mean to stick you in.”

“What is it, then?”

“I need you to look at some numbers with me.” His fingers threaded through his hair. “I am meeting with some associates of my father’s at a ball. We are to go over agreements he supposedly made with them, but there are a number of ledgers that accompany the agreement that my father had a hand in. I would like you to look them over, because you will be much more efficient at it than I will, as you understand what his mind was like, and I do not.”

Her look narrowed at him. “That is all?”

“Yes, Izzie. Hell. Yes. That is all.”

Her nostrils flared, and it took several heavy breaths before she nodded, quietly turning around and slipping down the hallway.

He stood heaving, staring after her.

The lie he’d just told sitting sour on his tongue.