Page 40 of Beloved Beast

Luke looked at her incredulously then muttered, “Bloody hell.”

“They told a fantastical tale of a carriage accident in eighteen ninety-five, a scandalous viscount who died of his injuries but dug himself out of the grave to terrorize the village. He lives still, according to these boys.” Gillian exhaled, then continued, “They gleefully told me there was a marker on the beast’s grave. Being curious, I stopped by the cemetery on the way back. I found a wood marker. It said, Viscount Ravenswood The Beast Lives ‘Evil to Him Who Evil Thinks.’ While I stood there, a man approached me and introduced himself as Marcus Madden.”

An awkward silence hung between them. Pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed briefly. His tortured expression caused a nervous flutter to course up her spine. Gillian dreaded his response, for she instinctively knew it would change everything.

* * * *

Jesus, Fred told him all the Maddens were in London at the townhouse. How did Marcus slip through? So much for MI-6 and their supposed efficiency. Bloody great. Luke stood and paced, trying to keep his anger and frustration at bay. She lied. Did every woman he ever cared about have to lie to him? Glenna certainly did, keeping his past from him and the manner of his reanimation. Now Gillian. Wait, he cared about her?

A deep, painful sting settled deep within him. Face it, he more than cared. He was falling for her. Shoving his rampant emotions aside, he focused on her narrative. “You have kept things from me. Told lies. I specifically asked you not to speak to anyone. I told you to come straight back to this house with no detours of any kind. Can’t you follow simple and direct orders?” His voice raised in irritation with each word spoken.

Gillian ignored his petulant statement. “Are you Viscount Ravenswood? I can’t see how, as you would be well into your seventies.” She reached in her brassiere and pulled out a ring on a chain.

His ring. A red fury crawled through him. “You went through my luggage? How dare you.” His words sounded deadly to his own ears.

She ignored his dangerous tone and continued on. “This is your ring? With the Madden family crest? I do apologize for sneaking about, but as I said it seems to be the only way I am able to deal with a man. That’s why I want to tell you everything. I don’t want this kind of relationship between us, however brief it may be.”

Furious, he stalked toward her, snatched the ring from her, and placed the chain around his neck. “My past is none of your damned business. I told you all I was willing to share, but that wasn’t enough for you, was it? You had to dig around in things you have no right to know. You should have stayed a spy, Gillian. You excel at covert operations, and deceit comes easily to you.”

Her lower lip trembled; his cruel words had hit their mark. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you Viscount Ravenswood? Half brother to Marcus Madden? We had quite a chat by the empty grave.” Gillian stood, the look on her face determined and showing no fear in the face of his rising temper. “Years ago, he and his older brother dug up the grave of Ravenswood late one night on a mutual dare and found it empty except for a skeletal hand. Their father refused to have the name spoken. Burned all the pictures and portraits.” She took a step toward him. “But it wasn’t the only grave I located. ‘Glenna Parker.’ Your wife. You did say early on your wife was a Parker. She’s the one who died in a hurricane. The woman in the painting. Well into her sixties when she passed. And yet, here you are.”

Luke could not believe this. None of this was supposed to occur. It all lay on him for agreeing to Fred’s Charlwood scheme to begin with. The next major miscalculation was entering into an affair with a complete stranger, an ex-spy. He allowed her beauty and sad smile to cloud his reason. Although, at this moment, she showed not a bit of susceptibility.

With an agitated growl, he turned from her and faced the fireplace, gripping the mantel. In truth he was angrier at himself than at Gillian, but not by much. “And the past several days you said nothing, continued on with our dalliance. Each day we grew closer, letting me believe something quite special existed between us. Tenderness. Passion. Trust. What a colossal lie.”

Gillian rushed to his side and gripped his arm. “There is something special between us. If there wasn’t, I would’ve kept all this to myself. Like I did with Otto. Can’t you see? My entire relationship with Otto was built on dishonesty. I do not want any deceit between us. I never told him the truth. I made him fall in love with me; then I abandoned him. And it’s been blasted hard to live with.” She turned him to face her. “I understand what we agreed to. A brief affair, pleasant memories. We part with no complications or regrets. But it has become complicated. I’m falling for you, Luke. I honestly don’t know if I can ever leave you.”

Pushing away from the mantel, Luke met her gaze and concentrated on her heartbeat, examining her expression for any lie. There was none. Gillian’s heart thumped at a steady, even pace. “Am I telling the truth?” she whispered.

“You are.” He was tempted to pull her close, but stayed stock-still, arms at his side.

“Will you tell me the whole truth and trust me to keep it to myself? I will, Luke, I swear it. Do you care enough in return to share your past with me?” Her eyes glistened with emotion, her tone close to pleading.

Damn it. He turned away to face the fire again, and watched the flames dance in the hearth. “You are asking too much of me. What is the point when we will part and not see each other again?”

She embraced him from behind. “But I want us to see each other again. When this danger has passed and the war is over. It has to end at some point.”

God, could it be possible? Could they have a future? Did he want one with her? To go through the heartache, outliving his partner, to endure loneliness and grief yet again? He truly believed it not possible. No one would ever love him except Glenna. Is that what existed between them?

“I am falling in love with you, Luke,” Gillian said, her voice quivering with emotion. She had answered his question. “It’s true. I am. It is probably the last thing you want to hear. I’ve been trying to deny my emotions, but I can’t, not any longer.”

He closed his eyes as warmth rolled through him at her emotionally spoken words. Did she say this exact thing to poor dead Otto? He admonished himself for the self-indulgent thought and dismissed it immediately. Yes, they’d barely known each other ten days, but he was drawn to her from the beginning. From the first time he looked at the photograph. Completely smitten. Now, it had moved beyond infatuation. For them both.

No, this was not supposed to happen. Not love. Not during a war. If he had any common sense he would end this. Push her away. Unfortunately, since his reanimation, emotions ruled him. They did now. It would be a hell of a step to tell her his secrets. No one outside the Parker family knew.

For the past eleven years he’d been alone. In his incarnations, in the lives he led, the thirty-seven years with Glenna were the most satisfying. As Ravenswood, he pushed people away, allowing himself to feel nothing. Now he felt too much. It could be the case here with Gillian. Luke didn’t enjoy being alone, loathed it as a matter of fact. The future was uncertain. But here—now—is all that mattered.

With that in mind, he turned suddenly and faced her. Gripping the sides of her head tight, he forced her to meet his gaze. “You are asking a great deal. I would have to place my complete trust with you. Trust, Gillian. There can be nothing between us unless we have it. Do you agree?” She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He kissed her hard, holding her still as he plundered her soft, warm mouth. The kiss deepened and they both moaned as she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, giving her passion freely. God, he needed to be inside her.

Breaking away, he spun her around to face the fireplace. “Grasp the mantel. Yes, exactly. Hold tight.” Luke leaned in and nuzzled her neck as his hands slowly trailed down her torso until he gripped the hem of her dress. “There must be trust,” he crooned in her ear as he laid kisses at her nape. “I need to trust the fact when I do reveal all, you will not run from me in horror.”

Gillian ground her body against his, causing him to harden further. “I promise I won’t.”

Nipping her earlobe as his fingers caressed her inner thigh, he said, “And yet you screamed when you first saw me full-on in the light of day.”

“Apparently, I will never live that down,” she snapped.

He smiled at her brusque tone. “No. You will not. I need to believe you will listen to what I have to say and keep an open mind.”