Authors: Regina Carlysle
She managed a curtsey and smiled as he bowed in return. His grin was boyish and, for once, his dark eyes lost their guarded expression. Taking her hand, he placed a soft kiss upon it. “I confess that I could not stay away. After your lovely impromptu vocal performance on the first day we met, I hoped you might grace me again. Perhaps you could be convinced to give me sunlight on this dreary day.”
Laughing softly, An Li motioned to a dark leather divan. Stephen sank into the well-worn luxury and sighed. She joined him there.
“Perhaps we should wait for sun to return,” she said. “Birds provide much better music than this humble China girl.”
“I would not be so certain of that.” His eyes lingered. “Remaining apart from you, sweet lady, was simply no longer possible. You are undoubtedly the finest companion I have ever known. I treasure the time we spend together.”
Pleasure rang through her blood as he lifted her hand and held it between his. The pressure of his thumb caressing her palm should have made her afraid, but it didn’t. How different it was to feel a man touch her in gentleness instead of possession.
Refusing to look at him, fearing he would read too much in her eyes, she withdrew her hand. “Perhaps I should ask you to leave and never return. It is not good to care for you, sir. You touch me here.” An Li folded her hands over her heart. “I must remember that pain sometimes follows a simple touch.”
Stephen flinched, his beautiful lips tightened. What had she said to anger him? Somehow she’d said too much. This new world was so confusing when she was accustomed to plain speaking.
“Please to forgive. I say too much. I make you angry.”
“Never,” he vowed. “In my eyes, you are an angel.”
Sometimes finding the best words in this new language was difficult. “Nicholas is gone today. Perhaps he will return tonight and you may return to speak with him. He has gone to see the lady he will marry.”
“And you do not mind?”
An Li tilted her head in question. “Mind? No, I do not. He must marry. It is expected.”
“Are you so certain he will manage it?”
“Nicholas is a kind and gentle man,” she said. “He tells me this lady is most intelligent. If she is smart, she will return his affection.”
“Mmm. I see. What will you do when Nicholas marries, my dear? Where shall you go? A bride would not approve of a man’s mistress living in the same house. In British society, it isn’t done. Normally, a mistress lives in her own small house far from his home and family.”
An Li stiffened. “You misunderstand.”
Stephen shook his head. “No, I think not. London gossips often speak of the Asian woman, his mistress, who lives in his home. It is almost common knowledge, and Nicholas, being the rebel that he is, is just the sort to defy convention.”
He took her hands and when she looked into his eyes, she saw genuine warmth and tenderness. “You must let me care for you, An Li.”
“Care for me?”
“Yes. I wish to be your protector.”
“I am no man’s mistress, my lord. You are mistaken.”
Surprise registered on Stephen’s dark face and a strange glow lit his eyes. Whether it was disbelief or some stronger emotion, An Li wasn’t certain.
“In my old life, many bad things happened. My lord Nicholas would never ask intimacy from me. I am his good friend. He respects me. Do you respect me, too? Or do you only want to take me to your bed?”
Emotion flickered in Stephen’s eyes before he gently pulled her to his chest. His arms enveloped her as he buried his face in her unbound hair. An Li felt his warm breath like a caress and shivered helplessly in his arms. Her heart pounded as she dared dream he might feel as she did.
“I would respect and provide for you. We could go to my estate in the north and live there together.”
“But you must marry, yes?”
He groaned and tightened his grip. Kissing her hair once more, Stephen cupped her face and drew back to gaze into her eyes. “Yes, I must. But since meeting you, I have given the matter much thought. Once I have married and made an heir upon my wife, I will insist she remain in London. I would seldom have to see her. Most marriages among the Ton operate in that manner.”
Her mind in a jumble, An Li wondered why the thought of his marrying should hurt her so. She’d been a slave her entire life. She was not a woman of value, yet it would be so wonderful to be loved exclusively by this man.
“I cannot speak, Stephen. I know not what to say. The words you say make me sad.” She moved from the circle of his arms.
“Forgive me.” He gazed at her solemnly then released a sigh. Picking up the book she’d left on the table, he studied the spine then smiled at her. “Come, sweet one. Let us enjoy the rain without worries interrupting our time together. Shall I read to you?”
An Li nodded, surprised by how easy it was to slide close enough to lean her head against his arm. He smiled gently as he opened the book and began to read, the timbre of his voice mesmerizing as the storm thundered around them.
* * * * * * * *
“I must say that you are looking most victorious this evening, lad,” Lord Henry said with a broad grin. “Harnessing a dragon, or should I say dragoness, is never an easy feat. A true and fearless knight! My congratulations.”
Nicholas, feeling positively triumphant, took the proffered drink and took a biting sip. Though it had taken some doing, he was officially an engaged man and none too soon. With his birthday looming, he must now find a way to hurry the nuptials along. Already, he had obtained a special license from the Archbishop. There would be no long engagement.
“Thank you, Henry. Taming lady dragons happens to be a specialty of mine. I am only sorry that she was compromised.”
Henry settled himself in a chair and waved a slender, elegant hand. “Nonsense. I, dear boy, am not. Seeking shelter from the storm was your only alternative. Along with that, you saved her from brigands who might have hurt her. There is nothing contrived about that.”
Nicholas propped an elbow on the mantle and stared into the flames. “Yes. I wish only that she could have been spared the attack.” Turning his eyes to his future father-in-law, he gave him a piercing look. “Be assured, sir, that I plan to hunt the villains down like the dogs they are. Edward, too. You and I both know that he was behind this, as he was in the other attack.”
Henry lowered dark brows and scowled. “Perhaps he shall desist now that Eliza is under your protection.”
“Perhaps. But it does not really matter. I will destroy him.”
“And well you should.” Henry softened his posture, and Nicholas noted the weariness that surrounded the man like an aura. “I should have dealt with Edward long ago.” He looked into Nicholas’s eyes. “He murdered Charlotte and broke the hearts of our entire family, if I am to be blunt.”
“You are not a coward, my lord.” Nicholas moved forward and took a seat nearby. Bending forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands between them. “It is not healthy for you to relive this over in your mind. You did the correct thing at the time by remaining steadfast for your wife and living daughter. Believe me, sir, it is not good to dwell on things one cannot change.”
Henry’s gaze sharpened. “You speak from experience, do you not?”
Leaning back, Nicholas reached for his drink again and took another drink. “I could have done nothing to help my mother rouse from her deep melancholy. I was just a boy. As a man, I know this, but then, guilt consumed me that I could not stand up to my father and rage at him for what he’d done to her.”
“There is truth in what you say. Your mother was a fine woman and very much liked by my Millicent. Millicent worried you know.”
“Worried?”
“Alice was such a delicate creature and so easily hurt. Your father was not an easy man.”
Nicholas gave a humorless laugh. “How very well I know it. I grieved over her death to the point of madness until I realized there was nothing I could have done to change what happened. Eliza must learn this, too.”
“You may very well be the one to teach her. Good luck to you. Perhaps you will succeed where I have failed.”
* * * * * * * *
Eliza stood in front of a full-length mirror to adjust the tiny straps of her Worth creation. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the straps, but she needed to keep her fingers occupied or they would twitch. A ball of nerves had formed in the pit of her stomach, reminding her that she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend.
Her mother, wearing an evening gown of deep emerald, sat perched upon the edge of the bed, a satisfied smile on her face. “It must be fate, darling.”
“Hmm?”
“The dress. How opportune that it arrived just in time for your first appearance with your betrothed, and the Archers always have such splendid soirées. The affair shall be a crush. It is wonderful to see you look your best.”
“Looking my best is not a priority, Mama,” she said to her mother’s reflection. “Remaining upright beneath this bout of nerves is my first concern.”
“Bosh!” Millicent rose in a rustle of taffeta moved close enough to adjust one of the pearl-headed pins in Eliza’s up-swept hair. “What have you to be nervous about, my love? You are betrothed to the most handsome young Duke in England and soon you will wed. It is all so very delightful. So very romantic.”
“Mmm.” Knowing argument with her marriage-minded mama would be useless, Eliza closed her eyes and prayed for strength. She felt a fraud after vowing for all this time to never marry. Now here she was, wrapped in silk and needed only a bow to make the gifting complete. She would not shame her parents and yes, she’d been compromised completely through no fault of her own. Neither was the situation in the woods a fault of Nicholas who had perhaps saved her life by arriving on the scene when he had. But marriage?
Was she just being stubborn by avoiding what she most wanted?
A tender, soft sort of feeling ran through her as she foolishly let fantasy overtake good sense. Perhaps marriage to a handsome duke who stirred her senses was not such a terrible thing?
“The gown is lovely, is it not?” She couldn’t help admiring the extravagant creation. Never would she have chosen a virginal ivory, but as a backdrop for long-stemmed, watercolor roses it was dashing. Splashes of color waved from hem to mid-thigh, dancing among bursts of seed pearls that scattered unobtrusively upon the ivory silk.
What would Nicholas think when he saw her?
As if answering her unspoken question, Millicent smiled softly and stroked Eliza’s bare shoulder. “The Duke will want to eat you up like a raspberry ice, Eliza.”
Unable to help herself, Eliza shivered.
“I shall leave you, dear heart, to collect yourself,” Millicent said with a tiny smile. “But don’t dally long. His Grace seems not a patient man where you are concerned.”
After her mother left, Eliza spent a moment or two bracing herself for the evening ahead. She hadn’t seen him for several days. Returning from London after Mary’s tragic death, they’d parted while he closeted himself with her father.
Lord Henry had later brusquely informed her that bans would be read on the morrow. Fully expecting that bit of news, she shoved it into a corner of her mind and attended Mary’s small funeral.
Surprisingly, Nicholas was there.
There had been a million things she’d wanted to say; arguments she wanted to make, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. No, they endured the service together and parted ways. The time wasn’t appropriate for a long talk of the future.
But time, at last, had run out.
Tugging on sheer, elbow-length gloves, she gave her hair a final pat and went downstairs.
* * * *
Hearing the hushed whispers of servants, Nicholas made his way to the door of Henry’s study. Eliza’s arrival was imminent.
Unable to help himself, he gazed toward the top of the staircase and held his breath. She made him feel like an untried lad again. Had he ever felt such wanting for a woman? Possessing her had become an obsession he couldn’t control. Lord and Lady Grayson had already departed, deciding that it wasn’t amiss for an engaged couple to arrive without chaperone. They planned to make an appearance at the Archer affair then leave sometime before midnight, allowing Nicholas and Eliza to enjoy the evening until dawn if they wished.
Their plans fit quite nicely with his own ideas for the evening. He needed, no, had to see her alone, if only for a moment. As a man of nearly five and thirty, he was almost ashamed of the edgy feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted her with a perpetual ache that wouldn’t cease until he had her in his bed. The last few nights he’d awakened bathed in sweat, hard to the point of pain, needing her.
A downstairs maid gasped, “Oh my,” just before she darted away, and Nicholas looked up from where he leaned against the study door.
His nonchalant demeanor evaporated like so much mist at the vision of Eliza walking slowly toward him. He straightened. Stared. Merciful God, she was beautiful!
Stepping forward, he watched the vision wearing palest ivory and congratulated himself on his choice of bride. The hallway lights caught the dark red of her hair, emphasized here and there by the opaque beauty of pearls as white as a baby’s teeth. Curls fell from the crown of her head to brush lightly against shoulders as white, as cool as alabaster.