The Nude (full-length historical romance) (42 page)

When she hesitated, he added, “I am not at all like Lord Mercer. Do you not agree?”

She frowned as she considered the question. “I feel like I am perhaps a different woman with you.”

* * * * *

It was one thing to sneak willingly into Nigel’s bedroom in the dead of night. But to be lured to his bed like a rabbit to a fox’s den made her knees wobble. A man had a right to demand his wife’s submission in the bedroom.

Even though she loved Nigel, how could she ever feel safe? How could she know that he wouldn’t ever demand what she wasn’t prepared to give?

“I’m not Lord Mercer. Perhaps our marriage could be different from your first one? Perhaps it could be better?” he asked, speaking the words her heart longed to believe.

And it was true what she had said. He did make her feel like a different woman. He caressed her cheek and kissed her with such fierce desire, she felt as at ease with herself as the nude woman Dionysus had portrayed her to be.

Elsbeth turned so Nigel could unfasten the line of buttons down the back of her gown. This was what marriage could and should be like, safe and comfortable. She slipped her gown from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

“I will never demand you do anything that you don’t want, dove.”

“I want this,” she whispered between kisses. “I want you.”

This was the moment her heart had been waiting for all her life. She sought his kisses, his caresses, following his lead and boldly touching him in ways she knew excited a man. Soon, they were both in his bed. Soon they were both naked.

Nigel’s breathing quickened. His arousal throbbed in her hand. She willingly gave him this pleasure. It pleased her to touch him, to know she was the cause of the glazed look in his eyes and the reason his head fell back on his pillows. The realization fed her own budding hunger.

She lowered her mouth to him. Nigel sucked in his breath when her lips touched him
there
. He groaned her name and she made love to him with her mouth. With a frustrated cry, he grabbed her shoulders. “Tonight is for you, my sweet dove,” he whispered into her mouth. “Only for you.”

His gaze, deep and hot, raked her body over and over. “You are beautiful, Elsbeth. You are a dream come to life, a miracle of art. Everything I have ever desired.” He touched her with his hands, running fingertips gently over her arms, ribcage, and hips. When he began showering her with kisses, she was lost . . .

 
* * * * *

They’d made love with a roomful of lit candles. She’d shouted his name. And after a short rest, they’d made love again.

The love of his life had drifted off to sleep after finding satisfaction for a second time.

Nigel traced the line of stitches on her side. The bullet wound was still angry and raw. He would send for the doctor to take yet another look at it in the morning. And he would be more careful when he took her again. But for now, he planned to let her sleep.

She shifted in the bed and moaned. Nigel, still aroused and uncomfortable, fought the urge to give into his desires a third time. He had meant it when he had said that this night was for her and her alone. He would let her sleep. She needed her rest.

She’d given him a wondrous gift tonight. She’d let him love her not as a man might love a dream, but as a husband might love a wife. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace with himself.

* * * * *

Throughout the hectic day that followed, thoughts of that magical night stayed with Elsbeth. Nigel’s gentle words, his coaxing her to trust him with her heart, made her smile at the oddest moments. She found herself smiling at the cloth in her hand early that morning while supervising a team of footmen as they polished the silver in the dinning room. It was a task she had trouble concentrating on, not just because of last night but also because tonight’s ball promised to flush out the man trying to kill both Nigel and his uncle.

It was Charlie, she was certain. But Nigel had to learn for himself the difficult truth.

“My ladyship!” Gainsford rushed into the room. She hadn’t seen the butler at all that morning. Each had been busily preparing for the ball. And there was still much to be done. But he seemed to have forgotten that, as well as his place. He tossed his arms around her and gave her a most improper hug.

“
Gainsford!”

The butler quickly regained his composure. He stepped a proper distance away and blushed as he waved away the curious stares of the young footmen. “Forgive me, my lady.” He dipped a bow. “Just-just, I am ever so happy you . . . that you’ve come to this household, that you—” Gainsford cleared his throat and blushed.

Did the whole household know that she’d spent the entire night in her husband’s bed? She lifted her chin and did her best to hold onto her composure. “Yes, Gainsford?”

“Lord Edgeware was
happy
when I spoke to him, my lady.” He said this as if Nigel had never experienced a happy morning in his life, which was an idiotic notion.

“I am sure the Marquess is anticipating the excitement of this evening’s festivities. And if we don’t wish for him to be disappointed, I suggest we returned to our preparations.”

The footmen all hastily returned their attentions to the silver. But Gainsford’s lopsided grin was not to be so easily deterred. “You don’t understand, my lady.” Gainsford spoke softly now. “I bless the day his lordship finally found you. And I thank you.”

Slightly shaken, she gave Gainsford a curt nod. She had so many more things to do and no time to be embarrassed by the servants. Evening would arrive soon enough and though the house was nearly ready, she would still have to prepare herself for the ball, a ball that would send a signal to all of London that she accepted her marriage to Nigel. Surprisingly, she
had
accepted her marriage to Nigel. And for the first time in a long time, she felt content.

By the time evening arrived, most of the tasks on Elsbeth’s list had been ticked off. Many of the servants had disappeared belowstairs, and the house was quiet. Elsbeth fussed with a flower arrangement in the drawing room and caught herself smiling again. Despite fighting him every step of the way, she was now hopelessly in love with her husband. Did he know that she loved him? Had she told him yet? She couldn’t remember.

“Elly, whatever are you doing fussing with those flowers? You should be upstairs dressing.” Olivia flounced into the drawing room like a happy wren. Her stunning pale pink evening gown was cut daringly low in the bodice so that the flimsy material just barely kept her breasts contained.

Lauretta and Aunt Violet followed in Olivia’s wake at a much more sedate pace. Elsbeth greeted her cousins and aunt warmly, giving each a kiss on the cheek.

Aunt Violet patted Elsbeth’s cheek firmly. “At least one of you girls knows how to marry a man. You may not do it well, but at least you have accomplished the final deed . . . oh my, twice.”

Lauretta appeared ready to burst into tears.

Olivia caught Elsbeth’s arm and gave it a tug. “Let us retire upstairs and tuck you into your gown before the guests arrive.”

Aunt Violet stamped her cane on the hardwood floor since the carpet had been rolled back to allow for dancing. “I have no desire to watch you girls twitter about. Show me to a comfortable parlor. And warm, mind you. I cannot abide with the drafts in this place.”

Her voice must have carried to the far corners of the house, for Gainsford appeared suddenly in the room. “This way, my lady,” he said very slowly, very loudly. He took Aunt Violet’s arm. “I have a pot of tea heating up.”

“Nice boy,” she said, and gave Gainsford’s arm an indulgent pat as she allowed him to lead her away.

Elsbeth led the way upstairs with her cousins following closely behind. Portia, her new lady’s maid, was waiting in Elsbeth’s chamber to assist her in preparing for the ball. Though Portia styled her long blond tresses into a mass of ringlets with a great deal of skill, Elsbeth missed Molly dearly. Molly had been more than a lady’s maid. She’d been a friend.

Elsbeth decided right then and there that she’d speak to Nigel on Molly’s behalf. She’d held her tongue too long about the things that were important to her. But no more. She’d make certain Nigel understood how important Molly was to her life.

Her newfound confidence didn’t last long, though. As she listened to Olivia’s musings on the coming evening, her heart began to pound.

Tonight they would catch the killer. Tomorrow she would wake up, and perhaps, start a normal day with a husband who cherished her. She needed to tell him how happy he’d made her. Perhaps she would make a grand announcement in front of everyone at the ball. Yes, then no one would doubt that their marriage was real.

“Lauretta, do sit up straight,” Olivia scolded her younger sister, giving her a sharp poke in the back. “You’ve been slumping all day.”

“I have a perfectly good reason to slump, as you well know. Papa has said I am not even permitted to dance with him tonight.”

“Who?” Elsbeth asked absently as she took a final look at herself in the mirror. The sapphire silk gown had hundreds of tiny crystals sewn into the bodice. They sparkled in the room’s lamplight as she turned.

“Lord Ames,” Olivia answered for her sister. “He is a money grabber, Papa says.”

“Indeed?” Elsbeth asked.

“He loves me,” Lauretta wailed.

“He asked Papa for permission to marry Lauretta last evening,” Olivia explained.

“And was summarily dismissed, I suppose?”

“Papa is ever so unfair! He refused to listen. Sir Donald is as poor as Lord Ames and he wasn’t considered a money grabber.”

“Your Sir Donald doesn’t also have a reputation for being a rake,” Olivia said with a laugh. “And he never steered you unescorted to one of the more deserted paths in Hyde Park in full view of half the
ton’s
tabbies.”

“That’s unfair.” Lauretta jumped to her feet and pressed her fists to her hips. “Just yesterday I saw Sir Donald arguing with a woman of questionable morals. The same woman then threw herself at Lord Ames, who politely refused her advances. What do you think of that,
dear sister
?”

A sharp knock at the door brought the argument to an abrupt end. At Elsbeth’s nod of approval, Portia opened the door. Gainsford handed the maid a small package. “His lordship requests Lady Edgeware wear this tonight,” he said formally. “’Tis a gift.”

Nigel must have returned for the evening. Elsbeth fought a giddy urge to rush downstairs and greet him. But there was still much to be done, and she wanted to be ready and downstairs when the first guests arrived.

Portia bobbed a curtsy as she handed over the box. “’Tis a gift, m’lady.”

“Ooo,” Olivia crooned while peering over Elsbeth’s shoulder. “I wager he has given you some fantastic jewel.”

Elsbeth held her breath as she untied the golden ribbon. The velvet cloth covering the box fell away.

“Diamonds,” Lauretta said wistfully. “It has to be diamonds. How utterly romantic.”

Elsbeth lifted the lid. The excited breaths of Olivia and Lauretta brushed her neck. Like her cousins, she half expected to see the sparkle of diamonds or glimmer of jewels when she peered into the box.

No such fantastic sight greeted her.

“A plain locket?” Olivia cried. “It looks exactly like that old one you finally stopped wearing.”

“How romantic,” Lauretta said. “He misses your battered old locket, so he gave you another one.”

Elsbeth felt faintly ill. She’d abandoned the locket and this one did look hauntingly similar. Had Nigel found it? Had he discovered what she’d hidden inside it?

Clutching the new locket in her hand, she searched the bottom of her jewelry box for the original one. It was there, precisely where she had directed Gainsford to leave it.

“Well? Open it.” Olivia bounced, waiting.

A lever released the catch and the front of the locket sprang open. Inside, two tiny portraits painted on porcelain stared lovingly at each other. One was an uncanny likeness of her, the other of Nigel.

“Lovely,” Lauretta whispered.

Elsbeth held the portraits up to the light. The brushstrokes were dainty and so carefully made. They weren’t created by Dionysus’s hand. Still, she shivered as she looked at it.