My Lady Series Bundle (50 page)

He had also given Drummond the letters that Nia had left him in the hopes that Drummond could identify the man behind the out of the ordinary scheme. With the amount of money that must have been involved it smacked of nefarious intent. Yet, for the life of him, he could not imagine what gain it could bring. However, it made him wholly uncomfortable knowing that some gentleman had controlled his life so thoroughly for a time and anyone would be inordinately curious as to the reasons for so lavish a manipulation.

He also could not set aside his worry for Nia in the matter, no matter how hard he forcefully tried. He cared not at all for the idea of her meeting the man once again to be paid. In his opinion, whenever there were large amounts of money involved there always lay danger. Brynmore would certainly see that concern as well, and address it, warning Nia not to allow a meeting if the plan varied in any form from the intentions stated in the last letter. Especially, Radford thought, because she had not followed the instructions and the mysterious gentleman could very well pick that as a contention to her payment.

The truth was, he only attended the ball to see Brynmore's return and the only thing keeping him from charging to Nia's side and literally carrying her away was the fact that she was being paid for what had happened between them. It was the one hurdle, it appeared, that his male stubbornness could not leap. It injured his pride sorely in a way he was not yet willing to comprehend or deal with. He could care less that Nia was a
fille de joie
. For that matter, it inspired him greatly. It was literally a dream come true, and he was experienced enough to realize that she could not be very experienced in the trade. Yet it lent her an air of uninhibitedness, a quality rarely found in any ladies of his acquaintance.

Radford stared at the champagne drenched ice sculpture carved into the form of a semi-nude mermaid. It was perched on a lavishly set table across from where he stood and the melting ice reflected gold's and blues along its crystal sleek surface from the candles burning near to it. The carver had masked the mermaid ingeniously to copy the guests of the party. Radford wondered once again in an errant thought, whether Nia could possibly be among the crowd. It was a foolish and winsome hope that had him often gazing into the crowd of masked faces. He had taunted himself before that he would know her anywhere if she was masked. The irony of a deep love, so forlorn, and the fact that he had never gazed upon her face did not escape him.

"Fuck," he swore with a crass curse for his darkening mood. He was a fool to be letting her go like this. Damn, his stubborn pride. She was a prize within his heart to fight laborious battles over, or suffer any torture to gain. A woman like Nia was as rare as, and therefore as precious as, any of the mystical creatures portrayed that night. Nia was . . . once in a lifetime.

Radford's head came up and his jaw stiffened. He
would
go to her and carry her away by force if he must. She was his! And he was a blasted fool for brooding the way he was instead of taking action as his heart was pounding to do. He strode forward into the crowd with his intentions. He would ride to Dublin if he must, yet he would never stop, until he finally saw her face.

Then, in the moment that he thought about seeing Nia's face some sense inside him tugged his gaze upward from its brooding inward gaze. The crowd before him was parting oddly as though they were standing aside for someone approaching him. Then, he heard the combined voices ahead of him making united and excited murmurs. At that moment, the way before him parted and opened up and his gaze settled upon the only person in the ballroom not wearing a mask . . .

N
ia.

Radford's heartbeat thudded instantly and heavily. She was here, come to him, and her cloak of anonymity was unmasked and in so spectacular a way as to be shown blaring in contrast against all the veiled revelers. The poignant appreciation of Nia's beauty unveiled before him, shouted of truths she would reveal and willingly lay open to his scrutiny. Her expression was wary and anxious, yet he could see the delicate stubbornness on her lovely chin. A face of character and attractiveness and her features were exactly as he'd set them in his mind. Irish green eyes, fanned by dark lashes, classic cheekbones and a gentle feminine nose. She had come to him and she knew him immediately, even though he was masked. Just as he knew her unmasked.

The gown she wore was the embodiment of sexual enticement. It was a light and shimmering green veil that clung to her curves as though his hands had caressed the material over every inch of her supple roundness. The material teased his eye with its sheerness and the wonder of what intimacy one was really seeing beneath.

His Lady Fire was dressed for any advantage she could gain to empower her cause and she completely won the advantage from him. Although, he did not allow it to show upon his face as she approached him and he backed up. He was not moving away from her, yet guiding her to privacy with a subtle nod of his head to follow as he retreated. She appeared hesitant, yet gathered her determination as she came forward with a kaleidoscope of emotions showing in her brilliant green-gold eyes.

In the moment, they were both oblivious to the people around them, with some of the people not realizing his and Nia's connection, while others did notice their separate, yet tandem movements together. One could tell that Nia was moving toward something, yet blended back into the crowd as he was; it was not obvious that he was the goal. Except of course to his friends, watching intently, until he'd guided Nia out of the large ballroom doors, which were open to the gardens on the east side of the ballroom. Another smaller orchestra played outside with the paths and walkways of the gardens lighted by torchlights. People danced on the circular patio, while other couples lingered in the shadows.

Once Radford reached the more obscure darkness outside, he stopped, standing off to the side, waiting for Nia to approach closer. "Will you follow me, cherie?" he asked her softly.

She appeared as skittish as a frisky young fawn. However, she nodded saying, "Please, I w-would speak to you."

He noted the catching in her voice as he raised his hand to her, silently requesting that she place her hand into his. He could see that she was set with hesitancy and determination to tell him what she must. He knew they had many things to reveal and discuss, however he had only one intention for the outcome of this fated meeting and his heart soared with the surety that it was going to culminate exactly as he intended. This time he would be the final master over their fates and any hesitance his Lady Fire would have. And he could see that she might have many as she looked at his hand, unsure what to do.

"I only came to explain, your grace," she murmured. "Not to expect anything at all."

It was difficult to hold back his burgeoning elation and not sweep Nia off her feet and carry her away as he would soon do. However, she needed to do this and he needed her to do it as well. So, he merely inclined his head saying, "I know, cherie."

Nia fidgeted, but then put her hand into Radford's hand. He would
have
to be bare-chested at the same time she wished to bare her soul, she thought forlornly. How was she to be honorably repentant and humble with her gaze filled with his upper muscular body? Even a
fille de joie
did not see the magnificence of men's naked chests all that often for the sight not to be affecting her. At least Radford had not turned away or glared at her angrily as she fully thought he would do. Actually, she was slightly set off kilter by his gentle but intense reaction so far, coupled with the arousing flex of manly sinew that he displayed.

His hand guided her firmly and she followed anxiously rehearsing in her mind what she had to say to him. It was not a plea, but a return of honor she must give. It was her duty to clear up any hurtful misconceptions, and then it was her duty, to step away from him and leave him as graciously as she could manage. She wondered fleetingly if she were so brave, because to gaze upon Radford was to love him. But for that love she must, and she would not make a scene of herself. The Duke and a whore could never be anything more than that. And she fooled herself to think otherwise.

Radford led her to a secluded gazebo in the garden. It was dark, but once inside Radford lit several candles which cast their light across the silk furnishing of low couches and plump pillows. There were shutters around the octagon shaped room that could be lifted open to the full view of the gardens outside. But at the moment were closed and it leant an intimacy to the chamber. The seclusion and the sensual tension did not elude her, yet she was certain that the intensity that she was feeling was hers and not Radford's. How could she expect him to be anything less than disgusted with her? She was certain that only his gentlemanly baring kept it at bay.

That he brought her to the seemingly seductive chamber was not for intimacy at all, but for privacy. Certainly he could not want to make public the embarrassing fact that he knew her at all, much less their sordid past.

Oh, she should not have come,
Nia thought, turning her back to Radford as she stood uneasy in the center of the chamber, fingering the whispering silk of her gown in anxiousness. She could not turn back now. She needed to do this, then leave quickly. She only wished that Radford's mere presence in the room did not strike the sexual cravings inside her so strongly. It was as though heady vapors were swirling in the air, and it flushed her skin and made her heartbeat flutter. "Oh blimey, just blurt it out," she muttered under her breath.

Radford chuckled behind her and she abruptly realized that he'd caught her words in the silence, when she'd not intended him to. Further and for heightened reasons that were unfathomable to her, his chuckle infuriated her. How dare he chuckle at her distress? She turned instantly with a tart retort on the edge of her tongue. "How-!"

Luckily and by all the bonny saints, she caught her wayward tongue. But when she gobbled back any further words, she imagined that she must look rather like a fish gulping out of water.
This was going awfully,
she thought, trying to halt her mouth from looking like a guppy as she peered at Radford, noticing immediately that he had removed his mask. My lord, he was smiling! Nia's bottom lip finally clamped shut against her top lip, and her chin dented with a stubborn tilt. It appeared to her that Radford's one strikingly blue eye held . . . held . . . held.
Affection?
Then. Tenderness? Then. Amusement? Then.
Ohmylord.
Sizzling, blue heated desire.

Nia stepped backward against the conflicting emotions tearing through her. Radford's hand lifted, as though he beckoned her, yet he did not move. "Your fear frightens me, love," he said. Nia blinked watching the cool firm sculpture of Radford's mouth. "Never be afraid of me, Nia. Never," he sighed with his hand lowering. "Seeing the emotions on your beautiful face, cherie, is more precious to me than I could have imagined."

Nia nearly stepped toward him. The lure was there as if a silk rope was attached to her tugging her toward Radford.
Precious?
She licked her lips slowly, and his breath caught. Her gaze lifted and she realized that he watched her every feature closely. As closely as she watched his. This was new that they could both really see each other. Everything was so ajar from what she thought it would be. Her confusion felt nearly dizzy. She could remember only one thing clearly, as her gaze lingered hungrily on Radford's every feature. "I..." Time seemed to turn so slowly as though they revolved in a cocoon together. "I did not take the money," she whispered. Her gaze finally settled on his with entreaty. "I-I could not."

"I know," he murmured.

Her chin came upward, startled. "H-How . . . c-could you." It was not possible that Radford could know.

"I know you." He said it so simply, with such unerring and quiet conviction.

"You don't know me!" she exclaimed, with her body trembling. It was anguish. And it hurt. "I am a...You know I am a..."

"The woman that I love."

Nia cried out with her legs buckling, as she moaned.

"
Nia.
" Radford was there kneeling beside her with his hands clasping her hands, pulling her upward toward him.

"No." It was a whimper in her throat. "Please. You make me believe. You make me think that-,"

"Christ." Radford stilled his motion of pulling her to him, and then he settled back on his heels. His hands were so warm over hers. "You are so beautiful, you break my heart."

Nia bowed her head. "I am a whore," she whispered.

"Never," he said lowly. "You are an exciting woman of sexual wonder that fills my heart. Nia, I am completely enthralled and counting myself the luckiest of men to have found you."

"Oh." She shook her head, denying it. It could not be true. He was a Duke. He was beyond her.

"Yes." Radford's voice was firm with conviction. "Nia, why did you come here to me now? Tell me. You did not have to."

She lifted her gaze beseechingly. "To tell you. To say that."

"Yes," he encouraged her.

"Oh, Radford, it was not all a lie!" she exclaimed. "Never from the very first moment that you touched me."

"There is something here between us, Nia, that we cannot deny. We never could deny it, not from that very first moment."

"But you are a duke," she gasped helplessly.

"Which means that I can have anything I want." Radford's lips turned upward with purely seductive arrogance. "And you, Lady Fire, are exactly what I intend to have."

"I won't..." Nia shook her head desperately. "I cannot be your whor-"

"Wife," Radford interjected forcefully.

"Do not say that!" she cried, tugging her hands from his. "I will go back to Dublin. I will never be that again. Brynmore will help us, and-and-,"

"Us, being your five brothers and sisters?" Radford said quietly.

Nia gasped. How could he know? Her stricken gaze lingered on his face.