Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord (37 page)

She smiled, shy. “Hello.”

“God, I missed you. I missed the feel of you. I missed the smell of you … all orange blossoms and Isabel. But more than that, I missed
you.”

She touched his lips, stemming the flow of words. “Nick,” she whispered. And in the one word was an ocean of healing.

“You came to London.”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been here? “ “Three days.”

Three days and no one had told him.
“Gabriel will pay for keeping this from me.”

“I begged him not to tell you. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to be beautiful for you.”

He shook his head. “You are always beautiful for me.” She dipped her head, and he lifted her chin with one finger. “Always, Isabel. In mourning, in breeches, in silk … in nothing at all. You are always beautiful for me.”

“There is something I must say.” She paused, and he waited. Finally, she took a deep, steadying breath. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes at the words, words he had so desperately wanted to hear. When he opened them, she was watching him, nervous. “You don’t have to say that.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes. I do.”

He shook his head. “No, love. You do not.”

She took a step back, her voice firm and unwavering. “Nicholas St. John. Hear me. I love you. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. I loved you the day of our wedding. And the day before that. And the day before that. I said what I said because I was afraid that if I told you the truth, you would leave me someday, and I would be sad and alone and heartbroken because you were not with me.”

Tears welled at the words, and she dashed them away as she continued. “But not telling you that I loved you did not make me love you any less. And you left anyway. And I
was
sad and alone and heartbroken. So I came here. Because I cannot survive without you knowing that I love you. Because I never want you to think that you are less than what you are. Which is a man who deserves someone far, far better than me.”

She stopped, breathing heavily, overwhelmed by emotion. She met his gaze, and there, in the depths of his blue eyes, she saw the Nick she thought she’d lost in her bedchamber with her silly words. She did not know what to say to win him back. And so she said the words that were in her heart. “I came to London to tell you that I love you. Please. You must believe me.”

He stepped toward her, one finger lifting her chin, tilting her face up to his, and said what was in his heart. “I will never leave you again, Isabel. I am so very sorry that I did. I was coming back. I swear it.” The kiss he settled on her lips was soft and stunning, and it echoed the promise in his words.

Tears came again when he lifted his head. “You left before I could fix it.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I know. I am sorry.”

She spoke, her words muffled against his chest. “I wanted to fix it, Nick.”

“I know.”

“I thought you might have decided that you do not love me anymore.”

He pulled back to meet her worried eyes. “No, Isabel. By God, I love you more now than ever before.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Good. I considered sending Voluptas as a peace offering, but she is too heavy.”

He smiled. “I much prefer to receive the real thing.” He kissed her again, stroking deep until they were both breathing heavily. When they stopped, Isabel wrapped her arms around his neck and he passed a wicked look over her. “This gown is incredible.”

“Do you like it?” She stretched against him, catlike, and he groaned.

“Where did it come from?” He spoke the words at the place where her neck and shoulder met.

“Callie had her dressmaker send it over. I had only one request.”

He was kissing across the tops of her breasts. “Mmm?”

She sighed as his thumbs found her nipples beneath the fabric. “That it be red.”

He lifted his head, passion in his gaze. “It is gorgeous. I should like to remove it from your person so that I can better admire it.”

She giggled at his teasing. “No, Nick. We must go back to the ball. We’ve already caused an incredible scene.” She gasped, pulling away. “Do you think Callie will ever forgive us? We’ve ruined her ball!”

Nick laughed at her concern. “Isabel, if I know one thing about my sister-in-law, it is that she will be eternally grateful to us for causing such a scene at her ball. It will set the standard for all future parties at Ralston House, Lord save my brother.” He brushed a loose curl back from her cheek. “But if you want to return to the ball, we shall return to the ball.”

She gave him a little smile. “I confess, I would like to return to the ball, my love. For two reasons, not the least of which is that I should like to dance with my husband.”

“Now that is a very good idea.” His eyes darkened. “I should like very much for everyone to see me dance with my wife.”

With one final, clandestine kiss, they made their way back through the corridors and out onto the terrace, where scores of eyes immediately found them.

Isabel squeezed Nick’s hand. “They’re all watching.”

He lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles through the silk of her glove before leaning over to whisper, “They are all attempting to calculate the length of time we were indoors.”

She turned confused eyes on him. “Whatever for?”

He raised his eyebrows.

She gasped, covering her laughter with one hand. “No!”

He laughed, and she caught her breath at how handsome he was.
He was hers.
Just as she was his.

They descended the stairs to the back garden, hands entwined when someone called out to them. “St. John!”

Nick stopped, pulling Isabel close as a man approached. He was tall and lean and very handsome, his coat perfectly cut and his boots perfectly shined. He carried a silver-tipped walking stick and moved with a casual affect almost certainly designed to keep those around him from considering him more than a well-heeled dandy.

He stopped in front of them and Nick squeezed Isabel’s hand. “Densmore.”

Isabel’s eyes widened.
This
was Densmore? This handsome, exceptionally well-tailored man with a silly smile was the Densmore about whom they had been so worried?

Densmore gave a short bow, turning to Isabel. “I say, Lady Isabel—”

It hadn’t taken long for her identity to ripple through the crowd.
Her sisters-in-law had worked quickly.

“Nicholas.” Isabel corrected him.

“I beg your pardon? ”

“If you are addressing me, my lord, I believe the moniker you seek is Lady Nicholas.” She could feel Nick’s approval washing over her.

Densmore looked from husband to wife, a wide smile on his face. “I was sure they were bamming me. But you
are
married.”

Ah, yes. Her father’s friend, indeed.

Isabel smiled her most brilliant smile. “I assure you that I am not bamming you.”

Nick shook his head in mock seriousness. “My wife does not bam, Densmore.”

“Well, at least, not strangers,” she added, noticing her husband’s dimple flash.

How she adored that dimple. She must tell him so.

Densmore rocked back on his heels. “Well,” he said. Then: “Well! This works out splendidly!”

Nick squeezed Isabel’s hand again. “I certainly think so.”

“No, St. John. I mean—you can handle the Wastrearl’s things now! I never wanted the ruddy responsibility anyway.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Can’t stand the stuff.”

“We could not tell,” Isabel deadpanned, drawing a grin from her husband.

Densmore shook his head, not entirely listening. “Capital!” He clapped Nick on the shoulder. “Say I send my man around tomorrow to discuss the particulars? How does that sound? Rather fantastic, I’d say!” He paused. “Bad luck about your father, Lady Nicholas. Er. My condolences.”

And without waiting for a response, Densmore was gone, leaving Nick and Isabel to watch in surprise as he disappeared into the crowd.

She turned to Nick, amazed at the way the mysterious guardian, whom she had so feared, had simply wandered off. "It seems I have inherited the challenges of Townsend Park.”

Isabel grinned at his mock disappointment. “How will you ever survive?”

“It is difficult to imagine.” He lifted her hand, brushing his lips across her gloved knuckles.

“Nonsense. You adore us.”

His gaze softened on her, and she caught her breath at the emotion there in the depths of his lovely blue eyes. “Indeed. I do.”

He was so close. She could just reach up and kiss him …

No. That would not be at all appropriate.

How long before they could leave this silly ball?

Understanding flashed in Nick’s eyes. He leaned closer. “Soon,” he whispered, the word soft and wicked and filled with promise. “For now, would you like to dance, beauty?”

She could not keep the blush of pleasure from spreading across her cheeks. “Yes, please.”

He swept her into the crowd of dancers, waltzing across the grounds. After long moments of swaying and swirling to the music, he noticed the secret smile on her face and asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I am thinking about the second reason that I wanted to return to the ball.”

He raised one brow. “Which was?”

“To show all these ladies who read
Pearls and Pelisses
that this particular lord has been well and truly landed.”

His bark of laughter was entirely too loud, the way he pulled her to him entirely too close, drawing the attention of the couples around them.

They would be the talk of the
ton
for months after tonight.

And it would only grow worse when they had all discovered that Isabel was the daughter of the Wastrearl … and that she was supposed to be in mourning.

But as she laughed and danced in the strong arms of this man who loved her … she simply could not bring herself to care. And when he leaned down and whispered quietly in her ear…

Well, there were worse things in the world than the scandal caused by love.

Once your lord has been well and truly landed, it will be your duty to ensure that the nests of his life are properly and perfectly feathered, for singlehood is not for men of earnestness and respectable purpose. Indeed, it is marriage and children and the pleasures that come with both that are evidence of a life well lived.

And our lords—these pillars of men carefully selected and showcased for your benefit in these pages—will require brides able to love, to honor, and to cherish in all the ways they deserve.

“Indeed, it was.” Nick placed a soft kiss at the spot where Isabel’s neck and shoulder met as he undid the long string of buttons on her gown, sending the garment pooling at her feet as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, one hand drifting up her body to capture a breast in his hand. “Not as beautiful as you were, however.”

She laughed at the words, leaning into him with a sigh, allowing him the freedom to explore her. “Of course it was. Lara was glowing. And Rock … I’ve never seen him so happy.”

Nick paused, considering the words before he set his lips to her neck once more. “Mmmm …” He took her earlobe between his teeth, nibbling on it until she shivered in his arms, squirming away with a laugh. He caught her to him, kissing her long and full before he lifted his head, concern in his gaze. “Are you sorry that we did not have a proper wedding?”

It had been two months since Isabel had traveled to London to fetch Nick and they had attempted marriage for a second time. And it was bliss. They lived at Townsend Park, though Nick had proposed that they visit his country estate in the autumn—it was close to Eton and would give Isabel a chance to be nearer to James during his first semester at school.

Before they had left London, Nick had assumed legal responsibility for the Park—much to the relief of the Viscount Densmore—so Minerva House was well taken care of and as protected as it could be. The women of the house flourished with the knowledge that their safety was well in hand with Nick, Rock, and the team of watchmen that had become a welcome part of the household. Even Georgiana had a modicum of contentment in the months following her brother’s devastating departure. The duke was keeping their secrets—for now, at least.

Uncertainty about their future no longer plagued Isabel; she knew without a doubt that, no matter what the future held, Nick was as committed to the success of Minerva House as she was.

Content, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. “I do not regret our wedding in the slightest. As long as you promise me that we shall have a proper marriage.”

“A proper marriage it is,” he said, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to their bed. Once there, he slid one hand up the inside of her leg, bringing her silk chemise along with it. “How would you rate it so far? ”

She pretended to think on the question, and he nipped at her shoulder in punishment. She laughed until his hand stroked up her thigh, playing at the soft skin there until the sound faded into a sigh. His gaze tracked her body and the chemise that clung to her curves, noting the absence of her stays. “I, for one, think it’s going very well,” he said. “I’m particularly happy that you’ve finally decided to see things my way and forgo corsets.”

She smiled a small, quiet smile. “Not entirely because of your view of stays, Nick. I am going to have to go without them for a while. Several months, at least.”

He paused as understanding dawned. “You mean—”

She nodded.

His hand slid higher, settling on the barely round swell of her belly. “A child,” he said, and the reverence in his voice was undeniable.

She set her hand there as well, threading her fingers with his.

“I was rather surprised myself,” she said, her tone dry. “It took Jane, Kate, and Gwen to convince me that it was true.”

He chuckled. “As usual, the women of Minerva House know all before I do.”

She joined him in private laughter. “Are you surprised?”

“Not in the least.”

He kissed her, ending the conversation, the caress deep and thorough, rendering them both breathless. She ran her hands up, over his chest and shoulders, tangling her fingers in his soft hair and sighing her pleasure into his mouth as his hand moved lower.

“Nick,” she whispered, “I love you.”

He smiled against her lips. “I know.”

She laughed at the certainty in the arrogant words as he captured her mouth once more.

And showed her just how much he loved her in return.