Authors: Regina Carlysle
He wanted to plant his lips there, just there in the hollow of her throat and take her skin into his mouth. The beast within him wanted to brand and claim her.
How, he wondered, could Eliza manage to look virginally pure and sinfully wicked all at once?
“Good evening,” she murmured, suddenly standing before him looking painfully unsure. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”
Reaching for her hand, he held it lightly for his kiss. Unable to resist the small flutter in her wrist, he whispered his hello and turned it to place a lingering kiss in her glove-covered palm.
Finally able to speak, he looked into her eyes and smiled faintly. “You were well worth the wait, sweet, and no, I haven’t lingered here long. You are breathtaking, Eliza. I shall be the luckiest man in London tonight, having you on my arm.” Taking her elbow, he led her into the formal parlor and bade her sit.
“Thank you.” She knitted her brows and looked around. “Where are Papa and Mama?”
Nicholas sat beside her and took her hand. “They went on ahead, and we must shortly follow as they will be waiting at the front of Archers’ home.”
“Yes, Mama told me we would enter the ball together, but I thought—”
“I asked your father for a moment alone. They thought it best to go on in a separate carriage.”
“I see.”
He had always seen her as proud and strong, but never shy. Color brightened the high curve of her cheeks as she took in his appearance then lifted her gaze. “You look quite fine, Your Grace.”
So formal.
He smiled hoping to put her at ease. It was not every day that a woman became betrothed. “I realize that marriage to me was not what you wished.”
“Marriage to anyone. Not you necessarily.”
Nicholas smiled. “Thank you, kind lady, making that clear, however circumstance intervened, and I must tell you that I am not displeased. I only hope that one day you will not resent me so.”
“I do not, sir. I only wish things were different.”
“Life happens, my dear, and we must accept. You will be my wife and I am not sorry for it.” He reached into his pocket for the treasure he sought then looked at her. “I have never wanted a woman as I want you, sweeting. Please accept this token of my deep and abiding feelings.” With those words, he took her hand and slid upon it a stunning sapphire ring surrounded by paved diamonds. The silver setting was lovely and quite old.
She gasped. “Oh, Nicholas! It is beautiful.”
“It belonged to my mother.”
Eliza lifted her gaze. “I see a hint of sadness on your face. Was this her wedding ring?”
“Hardly. I would never curse our own union with such an obscene jewel. Mother’s ring, her vow, her love, meant nothing, less than nothing, to my father.”
“I am sorry.”
He smiled, hoping to dispel the harshness of his words. Tenderly, he stroked her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “No. Forgive me for marring the moment. The ring was passed from mother to daughter in Mama’s family. Since she had no daughter, I give it to you.”
She looked down at the ring, concern clouding her expression. “Would she have liked me, do you think?”
“My mother? Oh yes, dearest. She liked everyone, yet you she would have loved as a daughter. That is why I believe this ring is appropriate. Someday we shall have a daughter of our own, and you may pass it to her.”
Eliza went still. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I shall wear it proudly.”
Nicholas took her in his arms slowly, gently and put his lips to hers in a kiss of tender possession. She did not give him a confession of love but when her mouth opened to accept a deepening of his kiss, he had reason to rejoice. Her response rolled through his blood like wine, heating his body to fever pitch. It seemed he’d wanted her forever and now she was his. Taking advantage of her response, he swept his tongue deep to better absorb the taste of her. She tasted of mint and spice. She smelled of gardenia. Nicholas tightened his hold, changing the angle of his kiss. Possession and lust merged along with the need to take their relationship to heights yet explored. Eliza’s body trembled against him as a tiny sound broke free to mingle with his breath.
She may not love him but she wanted him. Of that, he was certain. Soon, he vowed, he would hear the words. For now, he would take whatever she was willing to offer. It had to be enough.
Chapter Ten
“I feel like an insect,” Eliza muttered beneath her breath.
“A beautiful insect, nonetheless,” Nicholas answered, noting with a wicked but satisfied smile the looks cast their way. “How interesting it would be to pin you to a board and tuck you safely on a shelf.” He laughed at her appalled look. “A jest only, my lovely.” His hand lightly encompassed the milling crowd. “Ignore them.”
She turned to him, distress widening her eyes. “How on earth do you propose I do that? I am not used to being a spectacle and it makes me uncomfortable.”
She took a sip of watery punch while he let his gaze wander the opulent surroundings. They, indeed, were the center of speculation tonight, but rather than being annoyed, he was pleased. He found satisfaction in knowing everyone knew the lovely lady belonged to him.
Watching her fight for composure, he couldn’t help but smiled. Over the past few weeks of courting her, he’d noticed that her amazing reserve carefully masked an innate shyness. She simply did not care to be the subject of conjecture.
“Did you see where Mama went?” she asked, glancing around the crowded ballroom.
“Trying to escape me already?”
Turning toward him, she frowned. “Of course not.”
How adept she was at lying, Nicholas thought. Since the heady kiss they’d shared in her parents’ home, she’d been unusually quiet. During the carriage ride that followed, she seemed content to stare into the darkness rather than converse with him. He smiled a bit, realizing with a cunning intuitiveness that she avoided a repeat of that kiss. In afterthought, it was probably a good idea considering that, at the time, his instinct had been to lay her upon the settee and make love to her.
He wanted her alone.
Later, he promised himself.
Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear, “Your mother will not save you from me, my dear. Believe me when I say I will ravish you at the earliest opportunity and no one, not even you, shall stop me from taking what I want.”
“You are hideous,” she hissed. “You have won. Why do you gloat over your power to shake me?”
“The only power I have, Eliza, is what you allow. Deny, if you can, the way we fit together perfectly. Deny how you melt in my arms when I hold you. You cannot escape me now, but it would go better for you if you come to me freely. Fighting for each snippet of attention has become tiring.”
She arched a delicate eyebrow and tightened her lips. “You sound like a petulant toddler deprived of an enticing toy.”
He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to retort when Millicent approached.
“Ah, there you are, dears,” she said brightly. “Are you enjoying the affair?”
“Most definitely.” He made a short bow and smiled. “Eliza is a most entertaining female.”
“Well, of course she is. Much like her mama.” Millicent chuckled, then smiled at her daughter. “Please, Eliza, might I steal you away for a moment? There is someone I should like you to meet. Baroness Huxley attended the same finishing school as I, and I haven’t seen her in ages. I want to introduce you.” She turned pleading eyes to Nicholas. “You don’t object?”
“Of course not.”
He noted the relieved look on Eliza’s face. Forcing a cool smile, he took her hand for a kiss. “Soon.”
With a flutter of fingers, she drew away her hand and left with her mother.
Nicholas admired the gentle sway of her hips beneath the extraordinary gown she wore. Everything about her was enticing, from the turn of her chin to the flash of her eyes when she was angry. No, their marriage would not be a dull affair. Once he succeeded in bedding her, she would develop a taste for lovemaking. He would teach her with great pleasure, and with her passionate nature, she would, no doubt, become an apt and eager pupil.
Eventually, she’d need him as much as he needed her. He wanted to be her every breath, her every thought. Enslavement through seduction. Perhaps then, she might come to love him.
“Never tell me that you are gloating,” Stephen said, approaching Nicholas from behind. Dressed in evening black, but wearing a silver brocade waistcoat, he carried a small glass of champagne and wore a slight smile on his lips.
“I? You should know I never gloat.”
“Ha. Well, I congratulate you on your victory,” Stephen said. “The lady appears stunned at the speed in which you’ve accomplished your goal. She seemed immune to male charms until you began to pursue her.”
Nicholas studied the shine of his shoes for a moment before lifting his gaze. Odd that Stephen seemed not at all disgruntled. “It was a bet easily won, Stephen, for you were surprisingly lax in your pursuit.”
Smiling mysteriously, he turned his gaze to the swirling dancers just beyond the marble floors. “There was no pursuit at all. I have not been myself, I suppose. Distracted and too late, it seems, to woo the lady as she deserves. You are victorious, and I must congratulate you.”
Something strange was happening with him, Nicholas surmised. Not since they were lads had he noted such an open gaze. There was a softness about his face as if nothing could goad him to temper.
Nicholas watched him carefully. “There is something different about you. Never have I seen you appear so at ease, as if something pleasing has occurred in your life.”
The observation seemed to startle Stephen but, in the end, he only smiled. “Something life-altering has occurred, brother. Perhaps, in time, I shall share my news with you.”
From the corner of her eye, Eliza watched Nicholas converse with Lord Darlington, noting their striking resemblance. Somehow they were related, yet it must be some kind of nefarious thing as they were not open about a family relationship.
Both men were undeniably handsome, but she only had eyes for Nicholas. Bloody hell! Why could she not keep her gaze from devouring his sinfully handsome face? He was the devil to be sure, or perhaps a magical warlock who’d worked a seductive spell upon her.
“So tell me about your young man, Eliza.” Baroness Huxley was a rotund woman with a merry face. Dressed in purple satin, she wore a feathered turban over saucy but unrealistically orange curls.
Millicent, perhaps sensing her nervous condition, replied instead. “His Grace is a delightfully charming young man, Hortense. We could not be more pleased about the match.”
Hortense turned faded green eyes upon Eliza. “Everyone in the Ton calls it the match of the Season. Shall you have a long engagement?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“No,” her mother replied, almost simultaneously.
Baroness Huxley grinned with delight. “Hmm. A difference of opinion. How delightful.” She looked at Eliza for clarification. “So, my dear, what shall it be? Sooner or later?”
Millicent glared at her daughter and poked her small nose in the air. “His Grace insists they marry at once. He is smitten, you see, and at almost five and thirty is anxious to start his nursery.”
“Mother!” Eliza gasped. Heat climbed over her face.
Further conversation halted with the arrival of a young lord, who bowed extravagantly over Hortense’s ringed fingers. With a sly smile, he said, “Aunt Hortense! How delightful.”
“Oh, my dear boy,” she enthused. “You must be enjoying town this season, for we’ve seen little of you in the country. How is my brother?”
“Dashing as ever, Aunt.”
When the man stood, Eliza felt the fine hairs on her neck stand at attention. He was a handsome man, but somehow unnerving, as his gaze drifted slowly over her body. No, this was no gentleman to leer in such a manner. She stiffened.
“Oh, my manners! Do forgive me,” Hortense implored. “May I present my nephew, William Duckett, Lord Bailsworthy.”
Introductions were made as the vile man continued his appraisal of Eliza. Bailsworthy was tall, but not abnormally so, and lean in build. Though his face was handsome, there was a wild look about him. His chestnut hair framed a slightly long face, and his eyes were small and slanted like the eyes of a fox. There was a hungry, aggressive look about the man.
So this is my prey and Kathleen’s attacker.
“On the hunt tonight, are you?” Hortense asked the man. As an aside, she murmured to the others in a hushed voice, “Needs a bride to care for his children now that his wife is dead, God rest her soul.”
Millicent gave Bailsworthy a solemn look. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Maureen was a good wife,” he said. “She died in childbed after our second daughter was born. Now the poor tykes must depend on governesses and nursemaids for their care.”
Eliza said nothing as the older women skillfully changed the subject and after a few moments of light conversation, Bailsworthy left to join his friends.
Perhaps he is in pursuit of another woman to ruin, she thought sarcastically. The sad mention of his wife hadn’t fooled her. The philanderer had probably caused the poor woman untold grief. There was something cold and wicked in his eyes that spoke of a man who took what he wanted with no apology.
He was a rapist and despoiler of women. It was time he paid his dues.
Needing a breath of fresh air after meeting Bailsworthy, she politely excused herself and wandered through the open doors leading to a sculptured garden lit with burning torches.
Dragging cool air into her lungs, she absorbed the feel of the chill air on her flesh. Tonight’s affair was a crush of the highest order and the coolness of the weather felt wonderful. For a moment, she stood there absorbing the night and the quiet of the garden. Apparently, some thought it too cold for a stroll, for it seemed she was quite alone. Sighing, she descended the marble steps onto the lightly dewed grass. Moisture seeped through her ivory satin slippers, but she didn’t care. Even five minutes with Lord Bailsworthy was enough to make her hackles rise, and tonight she must keep her wits about her.
Strolling into the depths of the garden in her search for privacy, she cursed herself. How had she let herself become so absorbed in Nicholas that she’d forgotten her vow to Charlotte and all the other women at Charlotte House? Was she that selfish?
It was time to make a move on Bailsworthy and teach the toad a lesson. Defiling women carried a steep price. No, robbing the man at gunpoint would not make him a pauper, but how delicious it would be to see his fear. The kind of fear Kathleen had felt while she was ruined at his hands.
Frustration and anger boiled up within her. Pandora had begun to sniffle and sneeze after going out in the storm to search for her that day. She’d been abed since then, so Eliza knew it would be at least a week before they could search the scoundrel out and exact their retribution.
“Hiding, love?”
Twisting around, she stared into Nicholas’s smoky eyes, realizing they were quite alone in the depths of the garden. Fighting for composure after the startle he gave her, she felt her tongue stumble over words. “Umm. No. No, I’m not. Just catching a breath.”
“And perhaps catching the ague as well?” A well-formed black brow arched over one eye. “It is damned cold tonight, Eliza. Where is your good sense?”
She stiffened at the gibe. With icy composure, she said, “I beg your pardon.”
He laughed darkly and ran his warm hands lightly over her chilled arms. “Did you think that you might postpone our nuptials by making yourself ill?”
“I am not a child to play childish games.”
“Mmm. You certainly look like a fully grown woman to me,” he purred softly, allowing his eyes to drift over the length of her body, pausing only briefly at her near-naked bosom.
She shivered, but not from the cold.
Uncomfortable with the building heat between them, she sank back beneath the full branches of an oak and leaned there. When he merely followed her into the hidden bower, she realized her mistake.
Seeing the dark intent in his eyes, she felt her body quiver. “Please,” she whispered. “Not here. Not now.”
“Why?” His voice was intense. Feral. Like a wolf pursuing his mate, his breath was hot against her throat, his body hard as she lifted a hand to his chest to warn him off. Closing in, he effectively captured her hand between their bodies. She felt rock-hard thighs press intimately against her own, and the heat was unbearable, bringing to mind the way he’d intimately pressed his member against her much softer skin.
On that chilly, rainy day in the cottage his body had burned against her like flame igniting a fire storm within her.
Tonight it was the same.
A frantic feeling bloomed to life as he insinuated his knee between her legs and pressed it to the very core of her body. “Your parents are not here to save you, love. Before leaving, they bade me tell you to enjoy the remainder of the evening. And so you shall.”
He pressed again, just there. Just at the molten, quivering core of her, and she moaned softly at the vibrancy of his touch. He buried his face into the curve of her neck and licked a tantalizing little circle of dampness against her skin.
With a despairing whimper, she gave herself to the demands he made. “Nicholas? Why do you do this to me? Why now?”
She cried out as he pressed again, urging her to move against his leg.
“You are too contained tonight.” He teased her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, then nipped with his teeth. “It pleases me to unravel that core of reserve. I want you wild in my arms.”