Authors: Gloria Harchar
He cocked his brows.
"
Your background as a daughter of a stockinger doesn
'
t deter me. If your unbalanced mind doesn
'
t give me a turn, your trading of hats won
'
t, either. I have heard all about this venture.
"
With languor, he trailed his fingers over her nape.
His nearness made
Nicola
'
s head reel, her stomach to lurch like an old steamcar
. She stepped to the other side of the table, using it as a barrier.
"
Well, I enjoy the work.
There is nothing so fulfilling as seeing a lady walk down the street in one of my creations.
"
Retrieving a wide ribbon to complement the one she had just used, she pleated it around the bonnet.
"
Nicola
.
"
H
e fleetingly touched the back of her hand, causing her to still. He had incredibly long fingers—broad and immensely masculine.
His
eyes
mesmerized her, bec
koned.
What would it be like to really have the love of this man? The thought completely unnerved her.
With effort, she tore her gaze away.
"
What?
"
Her cranky tone was rude, but she didn
'
t
care because survival was more important. Refusing to look at him, she concentrated on tying
a length of ribbon into a
large bow.
"
Nothing has to change once we wed.
"
She had expected a wooi
ng
, but not this. Halting in her task, she glanced at him, confused.
"
What do you mean? I
'
ll have a husband with whom to contend!
"
"
Not necessarily.
"
She was more than confused—she was utterly baffled.
"
Do you want to marry me or not?
"
"
Oh, I definitely wish to marry. However, you can still live in Nottingham and do whatever you wish. You
'
ll be free. I
'
ll not make any demands on you.
"
She stared at him. What kind of a life would that be? How could he even contemplate such an arrangement? The man was an enigma and, if she didn
'
t have so much at stake, she would think him an interesting riddle to solve—because never in her life had she known anybody with such intentness to own something that he would sacrifice his own happiness.
"
But won
'
t I have obligations as the Countess of Falconwood? Not that any of this will come to pass,
"
she added hastily.
"
Our marriage is inevitable, but you
'
ll not have any duties as countess. You can frolic to your heart
'
s delight.
"
He retrieved a hat made for evening dress: a cap of white satin, its band edged with
brass washers
. With slow calculated precision, he place the bonnet atop her head, caressed her cheek as he drew away.
Her breath snagged in her throat at the almost tender sensation. Biting her lower lip, she removed the hat, hoping to remove the tremors caused by what she knew was a parody of affection.
"
Are you saying you plan to be marri
ed in name only? A carte blanche?"
"
Eventually I would like an heir.
"
She was becoming more confused by the moment.
"
Then, I
would
have to contend with you,
"
she insisted.
"
For the most part I
'
ll leave you to your antics,
Miss Moore
.
"
"
Oh? And where would you be?
"
"
I
'
ll be busy in London and at my various mills, overseeing business. You will hardly see me.
"
A shiver snaked down her spine at the thought. But at the very least he would expect companionship and similar values. How could they even discover common ground if he wasn
'
t present? Was his blood made of ice?
Hardly, since her cheek still
tingled from his touch
.
She could still feel the outline of his lips on her temple.
Or was she so plain, so much beneath his
station that
he didn
'
t want to associate with her, much less be seen with her? That must be the reason for his aversion.
Oh, how she wished
she could be loved for
herself
.
The idea caused a cold steel rod to hollow out
her stomach.
She hid her pain with sarcasm.
"
Ha! Some marriage you are proposing. Why, you make a gel positively lightheaded with your sweet words.
"
She batted her
eyelids
in exaggeration.
He cocked his brow, surprised. Then his
eyelids
lowered. There was no mistaking his intent.
"
Would you like sweet words? To hear that your hair is like
spun honey
?
Combined with y
our fiery spirit, I have discovered a treasure trove I never expected to find in the pursuit of the
Clockwork Blue
.
"
She had been leaning over, totally ensnared by h
is words
, but at the mention of the
dye
, the spell dissipated. Never would she succumb. Why, if he
'
d only involved her and left Ramsey out of the concoction, she would have allowed him to send her to gaol rather than wed a husband who didn
'
t want her for herself.
"
Are those the sort of words you want?
"
"
I prefer to have no words at all,
"
she retorted.
More determined than ever to thwart his plans, she continued to work on her bonnet, pinching lace next to the brim, all the while thinking of how she could get Ramsey not only on tour, but in the House of Commoners to legally fight the battle for the stockingers. That way, he would never be tempted to break the law and, therefore, expose himself to danger, and she wouldn
'
t be in the danger she was in—that
was
, this danger to her heart.
For she could see how easy it would be to care for him. She couldn't understand her certainty on this but although he put on a fierce visage that warn
ed
everyone to keep their distance, she sensed a wounded soul. And she was a sap for anything or anyone that hurt.
She retrieved her needle and stitched the frippery in place before reaching for the scissors, determined not to look at him. Because if she did, she feared he would see her vulnerability.
He laid the scissors within her grasping fingers.
"
I would think you
'
d be content to be ensconced in the country. You could make hats and talk to
pixies
to your heart
'
s desire.
"
"
Then why wed if everything is to remain the same? There is nothing that would benefit me.
"
The thought of marriage to a man she
'
d never see made her heart shrivel. She would much rather spend her days making hats and living alone, taking care of Ramsey
'
s scuffles. The idea of not knowing if she was welcomed or even wanted in her own home was unbearable, not to mention the thought of experiencing physical intimacies and bearing a child in that sort of a situation.
"
You would be wealthy.
"
He bent to retrieve a scrap of pink tassel from the floor and laid it neatly atop some other scraps she
'
d managed to gather in her frenzied work,
and then
brought quick order to the pile.
"
What satisfaction could I possibly find in obtaining riches not of my making? I would rather go to London and peddle my wares.
"
"
Excuse me?
"
"
Just think, my designs could start a trend for the season. I could set a new course by being the first woman to model her own design at the ball.
"
"
You might get your wish.
"
He extended a folded piece of foolscap from his breast pocket.
"
What is this?
"
"
The post. I took the liberty of retrieving your letter.
"
Wary, she snatched it out of his hand and read the address. It wasn
'
t from Mr. Hamilton.
"
Was there nothing else?
"
"
Were you expecting something else?
"
She scowled.
"
No.
"
Breaking the seal, she scanned the contents. Her amazement grew.
"
What? This is an invitation to the Garland Ball. It must be a mistake.
"
The idea of attending such a ball, only for the very elite, made her positively itch. She wouldn
'
t know what to do, how to act. At the same time, she wondered just how it would feel to be a part of such an opulent
event. Like Charles Perrault
'
s version of
Cinderella,
she imagined she would be like a lovely stranger always wondering when her ruse would be discovered and she
'
d be run out on a rail.