An Invitation to Pleasure by Marguerite Kaye Read Free Book Online

importantly, ensure that the whisky did not run dry before the men did.
    Susanna lay awake with the bed curtains open, a candle burning low on the night table at the side of the bed. Sick of the bundling board, yet unwilling to cause an uproar by removing it, she had wrapped one of her shawls around it, and covered it with a bolster. When Fergus entered the room, she feigned sleep.
    He stood over her for a long moment, looking down, then set about undressing. She watched from between her lashes as he shrugged out of his coat, then sat by the fireside to pull off his boots and stockings. His waistcoat and stock came next. Then his shirt, tugged free from his trews and pulled over his head. His torso was pale compared to the tan of his arms and throat. As he stretched his hands over his head and rolled his shoulders, his muscles rippled. She must have made a sound, for he froze. ‘Did I wake you?’ The mattress sagged as he sat on the edge of it.
    Susanna pushed herself up. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
    He flashed a smile. ‘Tell me about it.’
    She plucked at the scalloped embroidery which edged the sheet. ‘Fergus, do you regret last night?’
    ‘I wish I could say I did, but if I’m honest I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day.’
    ‘Nor I.’ Susanna began to tug at a loose thread. ‘Fergus, why did you stop?’
    ‘Because I knew I would regret it. No, not the way you think.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Since we’re being very honest, I’ll tell you now that I asked you to stay here in the hopes of changing your mind.’
    ‘Change my—you mean make me marry you?’
    ‘Not make you. It was just that I had it in my head—och, I don’t know if I can explain. After Waterloo, when I was lying wounded in that field hospital, plotting my revenge on Mountjoy kept me alive. I wasn’t right in my head that day I visited you, though I thought I was. I suppose being at war for nigh on ten years takes its toll on the mind as well as the body. Anyway, I blamed Mountjoy because I had to blame someone, and he made it easy for me, being such a callous bastard. I knew the moment you slammed that drawing room door in my face that I’d made a huge mistake, and for the best part of the past three years I’ve been wishing it undone. When I read his death notice, it was like the answer to my prayers. Finally, I’d get to make it up to you.’
    ‘Had you not called that day, I’d have married Jason in complete ignorance. It would have taken me longer to discover his true nature and his true feelings for me—or lack of them—and perhaps I would have tried harder to be the wife I thought he wanted for longer. You saved me from wasting my time. When I finally worked up the courage to ask him what became of the child—Maria’s child, the woman you told me of—do you know, he laughed. “What do I care about one more little bastard,” he said. And even after I had traced them, he was not relieved, but furious. I grew up that day, Fergus, and I’ve been growing ever since. You are not responsible for ruining my life, far from it.’
    Fergus eyed her in astonishment. ‘You found Maria? You mean you sought out Mountjoy’s mistress and child?’
    ‘I did, and I took care of them. If you had not informed me of their existence, I hate to think what would have happened to them. So you see, you played your part in saving them.’
    This was pushing it much too far for Fergus. ‘I did no such thing. All I was interested in was ruining Mountjoy.’
    ‘Well, he ruined himself in the end.’
    ‘But he did not ruin you.’ Fergus leaned over to touch her cheek. ‘I can see that. I do see that. And that’s why I stopped last night. I wanted you to stay here so I could persuade you to marry me, but I realise now that I know you, that I’m the last thing you need. You’ve made a far better fist of the hand life has dealt you than I, Susanna.’
    ‘Rubbish. I simply had to come to terms with a drunken