Therese had heard it whispered the woman’s family possessed a long history of madness and depraved behavior. Looking at Nick, she couldn’t help but wonder. Surely someone so beautiful must have some hint of madness in his nature.
“You don’t look well,” Nick said calmly, setting his hat on a side table. “Perhaps you should lie down.”
She flushed at the mocking tone. “I do not wish to lie down. Nick, we have lost the fortune.”
He merely removed a piece of lint from his sleeve.
“Did you hear me?” she asked sharply. “We have lost the fortune!”
After a studied pause, he raised his gaze. His beautiful blue eyes, surrounded by long, sooty lashes, had more than once caused Therese an uncomfortable flutter of envy.
“I heard you the first time, my dear,” he said. “That is why I came. Wexford and that fool Edmund Valmont dropped into White’s this morning. They were spreading a most interesting tale about Alec and your cousin.”
“Alec eloped with Julia last night.”
Nick regarded her silently.
Therese allowed her lips to tremble ever so slightly. Normally such a move would have fixed the interest of any man on the fullness of her mouth, one of her best traits. But Nick’s gaze never wavered. His expression was curiously dead, almost as if he’d sampled all the sins of the earth and found them wanting.
A delicious shiver stole through her. “I did everything just as we planned.”
“Everything?”
The gently spoken word hung in the room. “I beg to differ, my dear. You forgot one crucial thing.”
She swallowed. There was something fearful in his very stillness. She allowed her eyes to fill with tears. “I don’t know how you can say such a thing. I did what you asked. I risked it all for you.”
“Such pretty tears,” he murmured. “But I have no pity to give. Your efforts are wasted.”
His indifference stung. “It is not my fault. I did everything we agreed upon.”
He lifted a brow. “Oh? Is it possible you forgot to mention the dowdy Miss Julia was also a daughter of a late earl of Covington?”
Though spoken in a deceptively soft tone, the words cut like a whip. Therese eyed Nick carefully. She was never sure how he would react. It was one of the things she found fascinating about him. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose she is.”
His blue gaze narrowed as he closed the short distance between them. “Explain.”
Therese subsided once again on the settee. “Her father held the title once.” She caught a glimpse of fury and hurried to add, “But I did not think it would matter. He died almost immediately.”
Nick’s face hardened. “You stupid fool. You should have told me.”
“I didn’t think it important. I would never have thought Julia capable of such deception. Good God, it is the most ridiculous thing in the world!”
A hint of cruel amusement curved his mouth. “Do you know what Wexford and Valmont are saying?”
She shook her head.
‘They say it is a love match
.“
“No one would believe such drivel. Alec has been dangling after me for the last two months and everyone knows it.”
“Not after Lucien and his babbling friend finish entertaining the entire
ton
. It really is a most romantic tale. Apparently Alec didn’t care if the executors approved the match or not; he was determined to have her.”
Therese’s stomach tightened. “I told everyone at the musicale last night that I had refused to elope with him. Now they will think me jealous.”
His eyes blazed. “I don’t give a damn about you. The money is all that matters.”
Heat flooded through her at his sneer. “I should have eloped with Alec when I had the chance. Why I let you talk me into such a preposterous plan I will never know.”
“As I remember, you were the one panting to become a countess,” he said, favoring her with a glance that made her wonder if her expensive morning gown of pale blue muslin had suddenly turned into sackcloth.
Her hand clenched the arm of the settee. Nick must have seen the gesture, for he favored her with a singularly sweet smile. “You know, my dear, if anyone comes off the worse for this incident, it will not be me. I may have lost a fortune, but I will still be an earl. While you…” He gestured with a pale hand. “Once the laughter dies, perhaps some country squire will take you.”
Without thinking, she stood to strike him. Nick caught her hand. For one long, endless second, he stared at her before capturing her against his chest. A brutal hand twisted into her hair, yanking her head back. She writhed against him, striking him with her free fist.
He covered her mouth with his. For an instant, Therese fought even harder. But his brutal strength, the rude, sensual thrust of his tongue inside her mouth, ignited the lust that coursed through her every time he was near.
She melted against him, passionately returning his kiss. She had longed for this, yearned for it. Twining her arms about his neck, she pressed her breasts against his chest. His hands left her hair and roamed over her body, cupping her roughly.
Therese grasped desperately at his lapels, rubbing herself against him. How she desired this man. More than any other, even Alec, whose dark good looks had more than once caused her mouth to go
dry.
There was something intrinsically forbidden about Nick, something untouchable that made her crazy with lust. She moaned into his mouth, and reached for the juncture between his legs.
Nick let her go, dropping her roughly onto the settee. Therese sprawled against the pillows, fighting to regain her breath. Her body throbbed with unfulfilled heat; her breasts ached for the touch of his hands.
He smoothed his jacket. “You really should do something about your unfortunate tendency to act like a bitch in heat. It is most unattractive.”
Humiliation raged through her like a fire. “Damn you,” she spat.
“Don’t worry, my dear. I plan on taking you… eventually. I will need an heir, you know.”
Therese swallowed a retort, knowing it would be wasted. She wasn’t accustomed to being the one who wanted more, needed more. Everyone knew she was beautiful. It was reflected in the faces of the men who desired her, the women who feared her. There was something dizzying about the knowledge that one could, with a pout or a sidelong glance, get whatever one wanted. She had never failed.
Until now.
But there was a reason for that, after all. Rumors were rife about the too-beautiful Earl of Bridgeton. “I suppose I deserved that,” she said with a sly smile. “I keep forgetting you aren’t a real man.” She waited for his inevitable reaction.
His cold, serpent gaze lit to a vivid azure. “Oh, I’m a man, sweet Therese. Never forget that.”
Some demon whispered her on. “But Alec—”
He yanked her up from the settee, his hands bruising the tender flesh above her elbows. “Don’t,” he hissed, his face contorted into a frozen mask of white anger. “Don’t ever,
ever
compare me to my cousin. Do you understand?”
Mutely, she nodded, both terrified and thrilled at the same time. He dropped her back onto the settee, and as quickly as it had appeared, his anger slid behind the urbane, smooth facade. “Good. If I must marry, I would rather it be someone who understands me.”
Therese rubbed her arms where his fingers had marked her. “I don’t understand you at all.”
“No? And here I thought you were as depraved as I.”
She winced. As cruelly beautiful as a fallen angel, he knew how to draw blood with his every word. “Nick, have you ever fallen in love?”
He looked at her for a long moment. “No,” he said softly, placing a hand under her chin and lifting her face to his. “But if I ever do, I promise to share her with you.”
“What do you mean, ‘share’?” she asked, though a spiral of heat suffused her at the implications.
His smile whispered of forbidden pleasures. “Oh, yes,” he murmured, dropping his hand. “We understand one another very well indeed.”
It took the greatest of efforts to force her mind away from the tantalizingly erotic suggestion he had just made. “What do we do now?”
“Alec and your cousin must still live a year without scandal. Within that time, you and I will see to it that a scandal occurs to the lovely couple.”
Therese frowned. “What will I have to do?”
His glance dismissed her. “Whatever I tell you to.”
Briefly, Therese wondered why she hadn’t just married Alec. He was certainly handsome enough and would be disgustingly wealthy. Had he been in possession of the earldom, he would have been perfect. But he was a mere Scottish viscount, whereas Nick possessed the venerated Bridgeton title. There was no comparison.
Her gaze fell on his pure profile and she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She had already savored his charms once. Her thighs dampened at the memory of that one impassioned tryst. He had been brutal, almost vicious, and she had cried out in her passion, something she rarely did. If she could just satiate herself, her interest would wane. It always did.
Yet she wondered if anything was the same with Nick. No man had intrigued her more. And no man had ever left her so… wanting.
He caught her gaze and frowned. “It appears the Frant Dragon can indeed breathe fire when occasion demands it
.“
“Julia? She is the most boring woman in the world.”
“Surely you exaggerate.”
She shrugged. “Alec has met her many times and never paid her the slightest heed. No one ever does.”
“Everyone will pay her heed, now that she is a wealthy viscountess.”
“I doubt it. She’s the drabbest creature, doing reform work and forever blurting out the most shocking things. Unless Alec can work miracles, they will never be able to avoid a scandal.”
“Don’t underestimate my cousin. He may be impetuous and quick to anger, but he is no fool. He managed to remain my grandfather’s favorite despite my best attempts to separate the two of them.”
She reclined against the settee and looked at him through her lashes. She knew the thin muslin outlined her form, hinting at the shape of her nipples. “I’m sure those efforts were drastic indeed.”
“How very perceptive of you,” he said dryly, collecting his hat. “You aren’t quite the fool one would think.”
Therese covered a flash of anger with a brittle laugh. “And Alec isn’t quite the demon the world thinks him, is he?”
“I admit I’ve assisted in his fall from grace.”
She watched him narrowly. It was unlike Nick to be so open.
Unless, of course, he had a reason.
“What did you do?”
“Don’t look so excited, my dear. I did nothing ungenteel. Tongues do wag, you know.
A word here, a word there.
It has all been remarkably easy.”
“Everything comes easy to you.” She knew her words held a hint of bitterness, but she could not stop them. Eaten with frustration, Therese yearned to give him a taste of his own.
Nick crossed to the door, where he stopped and regarded her with a dispassionate gaze. “Not as easy as you imagine, my dear.” His mouth curved in a half-smile that sent an uncomfortable flutter to her stomach and lower. “Unfortunately, this last venture proves it. We will have to plan something larger, more grandiose for the new bride and groom if we are to secure the fortune now.”
“What should we do?”
He adjusted his cravat with a deft touch. “If your intriguing cousin left without her possessions, you can be sure she will return.”
“I can’t wait to tell that scheming little—”
“You will do no such thing. Instead, you will convince her you are her best friend.”
Therese couldn’t begin to count all the slights and snubs she had heaped on Julia’s head. “She would never believe it.”
“Convince her you have changed,” Nick said sharply.
“And then what?”
“Then, my dear, we figure out how best to exploit her weaknesses.” He donned his hat, nestling the sable brim atop his golden hair. “I want to know her thoughts, desires, and secrets, if she has any. Find out everything about her relationship with my cousin.”
“What do I get in return?”
His lids shuttered his expression. “I will wed you the day I receive my grandfather’s fortune and not a moment before.”
“I want more than a promise.” She crossed to him, laced her arms around his neck, and trailed her mouth along the smooth line of his jaw. His cologne laced through her like laudanum, causing a languorous heat to rise up her legs and pool between her thighs. “Announce our engagement, Nick. Send a notice to the
Gazette
.” She put her lips to his ear and whispered, “I’d take you without the money.”
He pulled away and opened the door. ‘There, my dear, is where we differ
.“
The portal shut behind him as Therese gave vent to a shriek of fury.
Boxes upon boxes covered the foyer, some stacked so high they quavered as if the slightest jar would send them toppling. Alec had purchased his wife everything she needed to take her place in society. He should have been triumphant. Instead, Julia’s somber stare had stolen the pleasure from the entire afternoon.
Refusing to be ruled by such prudery, he had bought even more than he’d intended. It had become a grim contest, a silent battle of wills. By the time she’d pleaded a headache, he’d suffered one as well. They had forgone the jewelers and returned home in silence, separating at the carriage with only polite, distant words.
He rubbed his neck wearily and wondered how a pleasant pastime like shopping could turn so sour.
Burroughs entered the foyer. “Welcome home, my lord.”
Alec placed his hat and gloves in the butler’s outstretched hand. “Where is her ladyship?”
“Resting in the front parlor.”
Burroughs cast a deprecating look about the foyer and added dryly, “It must be fatiguing to spend an entire fortune in one afternoon.”
Fatiguing didn’t begin to describe it. Alec gestured to the boxes. “Have Johnston carry these up to her ladyship’s room.”
“Yes, my lord.” He hesitated. “If you’ll forgive me, her ladyship seems subdued. I hope nothing is amiss?”
“Of course not.”
Alec refused to acknowledge the butler’s concerned gaze. Frankly, he didn’t think anything was bothering Julia other than an oversized dose of puritanical zeal.
The butler looked politely skeptical, but bowed.
“Of course.
Shall I bring tea?”
“No.
Perhaps later.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Burroughs turned and trod down the hall.
Alec randomly chose a box from the tallest stack and slipped through the open doors of the parlor. Julia sat on the edge of a settee, her pale skin startling against the dull gray of her shapeless dress. The kiss of the lingering sun as it slanted through the mullioned windows touched her hair with gold. She looked young and annoyingly innocent.
He walked toward her, the box tucked under his arm. She glanced up, clasping her gloved hands together in a nervous gesture, the leather shiny from use. There were eleven pairs of costly, delicate gloves in the boxes in the hallway. He had counted.
Maybe that was the problem. It was too much, too soon. God knew he himself felt a little staggered by the events of the past twenty-four hours. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like for Julia.
Alec set the box on the table, determined to be cheerful even if he died in the process. “It’s rather like Christmas, isn’t it?”
She stripped off her gloves with an economical motion and placed them on the table. “It’s like no Christmas I’ve ever had.”
There was no request for pity in the plainly stated fact, yet he felt as if he should say something… helpful. “Julia, I know this has been difficult for you. Your whole life has been wretched—”
“Wretched? Whatever made you think that?” She regarded him with an astonished gaze.
“I don’t know. I just thought…” Alec subsided into silence as the green of her eyes deepened. Good God, all he’d tried to do was offer the poor girl some
encouragement,
and she had flared up at him as if he’d grossly insulted her.
Julia’s chin squared. “I had a wonderful childhood. Not much money, of course. But full of love and laughter.”
“Then you had a better childhood than I,” he retorted. “Grandfather was not a cheerful man.”
“Yes, I heard. He was never the same after your mother died.”
“Who told you that?” he asked, momentarily diverted by her knowledge. The only time he had ever seen his grandfather show anything resembling emotion was when the old man had gazed on the portrait of his mother that hung in the grand saloon at Bridgeton House.
“Mrs. Winston told me.” Her lips quivered as if she would burst into tears at any moment. “She said he put fresh flowers on her grave every day until he died.”
He must have looked as bewildered as he felt, for she bit her lip and added, “Of course you already knew that.”
Alec didn’t know anything of the sort. The housekeeper’s constant chattering had never inspired him with the desire to listen. “I imagine Mrs. Winston knows quite a bit about the entire family.”
A sudden dimple raced across Julia’s cheek. “Oh, yes.”
Fascinated, Alec wondered where the dimple hid when she wasn’t smiling. She was a conundrum, this prim woman whose emotions ran from tearful sympathy to a mischievous twinkle in the space of a moment. “Did she mention the time I shaved the wolfhound?”
Her smile exploded into a full-blown grin, as enchanting as the dimple. “You wanted to make him into a lion.”
“I failed miserably. Poor Ferdinand was mortified. He hid under the kitchen table for a week.”
She laughed, the husky sound more suited to a boudoir than a parlor. “I hope you were properly chastised.”
“Grandfather made me clean out the kennels every day for a week.”
“Good for him. It is exactly what I would have recommended.”
“You are a harsh taskmaster. But Ferdinand didn’t look so horrible. In fact, he reminded me of Vicar Plumb.” She looked uncertain and he added, “He married us.”
All merriment swept from her face. “Oh.
Of course.”
He winced at the sudden change. That was the problem with trying to talk with a reformer, and a virgin at that. He wasn’t sure what the latter had to do with his irritation, but it did.
Women like Julia were unreasonable and irrational, and fell to pieces at the slightest provocation, leaving men like him feeling like the biggest beasts on earth. He, for one, did not enjoy being made to feel so low. It was time she understood exactly what he expected of her. “Julia, we need to talk. Your behavior today was inexcusable.”
She stared at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted horns and a tail. “What behavior?”
Damn her for being so particular. What behavior, indeed. He scowled and pointed a finger. “Today, while we were shopping, you pouted like a child.”
“I was not pouting.”
“Yes, you were.” Color stained her cheeks and he relented slightly. “You must get over this hesitation you have about spending money. I know you—”
“I have decided to establish my own factory.” Enthusiasm bloomed across her face, illuminating the pale angles with vivid color. “One of the major tenets of the Society for Wayward Women is to teach independence and self-reliance. I’ve finally figured out a way to do just that.”
“I see,” he said faintly. He didn’t, but it was all he could manage at the moment.
“Most women who have taken up less than honorable professions have done so out of necessity. With the proper funding, we can train them to become productive members of society and—”
“Wait.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that the entire time we were shopping, you were thinking about
spending
money?”
“Oh, yes.”
He opened his eyes.
“On
other
women?”
“Of course.”
She waved an airy hand. “But much more money than that paltry amount we dropped in the stores today.”
“Paltry?” he heard himself echo hollowly. Here he had worried, actually
worried
, that she had been overcome by his generosity. Instead, she thought it paltry. His numb mind refused to calculate how much he had actually spent. It didn’t bear consideration.
Julia wasn’t even attending. “It all depends on what kind of factory we establish. It could be expensive.” She brightened. “But think of the good it will do.”
It suddenly seemed silly to have been shopping at all. He cleared his throat.
“Julia, why are you so interested in the fate of these unfortunate women?”
Her bloom faded and her gaze dropped to her hands. After a moment, she said, “After my father died, I found out how few choices there are for women to earn their own way in life.” She sighed heavily. “I don’t watercolor, you see.”
Alec struggled to follow her line of thought. “You wanted to earn a living as a painter?”
“Oh, no!
I wanted to be a governess.”
“You have to know how to watercolor to be a governess? What in hell for?”
She positively beamed at him. ‘That is a very good question and a perfect example of the shortcomings of modern education. I can speak three languages fluently, can do advanced sums, and know geography and philosophy. Yet because I do not watercolor, no one would even consider me an acceptable governess
.“
It was amazing how her face transformed when she felt strongly about something. Her eyes flashed, her cheeks warmed to a kissable pink, even her hair seemed to lift and curl with more vivacity, the honey gold threads gleaming. She went from plain and colorless to her own quiet sort of glowing beauty.
“I was fortunate Aunt Lydia wrote and asked me to come here to be a companion to Therese.”
“Fortunate for Therese, perhaps, but hardly for you.”
Julia looked at him and started to speak, but stopped, blushing profusely. “As uncomfortable as it has been, it taught me to be more aware of the needs of others.”
Alec wondered at the size of her heart, to be in such desperate straits herself, yet only see it as a lesson about the difficulties of others. That thought prompted another: never in all of his debauched life had he been made to feel such a wastrel.
Damn the woman and her moralizing ways. He, for one, was glad he was both wealthy and irresponsible. If Julia harbored the false notion she could shame him into becoming a paragon of virtue like herself, she was sadly mistaken. If anyone was going to change, it would be she.
Alec reached for the box he had brought from the foyer and opened it, removing the bonnet that lay nestled.
among
the wrapping paper. “Here, stand up and let’s try this on.”
She turned an abstracted gaze to the hat. “I tried it on in the store. There’s no need to try it again.”
“I beg to differ. It will look much different in this light. Besides, I paid twenty guineas for it.” He offered his best smile, deepening his voice just slightly. “The least you can do is let me see it on you.”
Reluctantly, Julia stood and held out her hand. “Very well, but it seems a silly thing to do. I really should go see Vicar Ashton from the Society and tell him the good news about the money.”
“Write him a letter,” he said, ignoring her outstretched hand and holding the bonnet aloft. “Allow me.”
A frown pulled the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t move away when he set the hat on her head. Indeed, she stared off into the distance as if he weren’t even present. Never had any woman seemed so immune to him. The thought both irritated and tantalized.
He allowed his hands to linger on the softness of her hair as he adjusted the bonnet. “You know, love, it won’t do for you to tell everyone about your charity work.”
That caught her attention. Her brows drew together and she scowled. “The Society needs me. I won’t give it up just to—”
“No one has asked you to, love. You should just be cautious, that’s all. People sneer at things they don’t understand.”
Julia stared at him, her mouth pressed in a mutinous line. “It sounds very unfair.”
Alec could tell her how unfair it was, how the sharp-edged banter of society could cut a person to shreds, but he didn’t. Instead, he tipped up her chin to better regard the bonnet, shifting forward until a scant few inches separated them. She smelled of lemon and cinnamon. It made his mouth water.
“This is a silly sort of bonnet for me,” she muttered almost fiercely. “I told you that in the store, but you wouldn’t listen.”
The straw brim framed her willful face. The charming confection sported a wide, low crown trimmed with an outlandish profusion of artificial flowers and cherries. He had bought this one in particular because the deep green of the leaves echoed the startling color of her eyes.
But he was hard pressed to see her eyes now. She kept them fixed firmly on the floor as he took the ribbons and made a monstrous bow beneath her chin, his finger brushing her chin and throat.
“You know,” he murmured. “It is usually polite for a wife to thank her husband when he purchases gifts for her.”
“Thank you,” she replied dutifully.
He touched one of the flowers on her hat and sent it bobbing. “Some wives might even knit their husbands a pair of slippers.”
“I don’t knit. I never could.” She regarded him with a serious expression. “I can’t embroider, either.”
“Hmm,” he answered, wondering how such a virtuous woman had come to possess such a sensual mouth. “Fortunately for you, I am not a demanding husband. I will settle for your ‘thank you.’ ”
She hesitated,
then
looked down. One of the large flowers adorning the wide brim slapped him in the nose.
“I suppose that surprises you,” she muttered.
He rubbed his nose. “What?
That you can’t embroider?”
The sprig of cherries quivered at her nod.
“To be honest, I’m
glad
you can neither sew nor embroider. Now I won’t have to dread every holiday for fear you will sew some horrendous article of clothing I will be forced by politeness to wear.” He lifted her chin with a finger, slipped her spectacles off, and tucked them in his pocket. “Here, love, let me see your eyes.”
She made a noise of exasperation. “Why do you always do that? I can’t see without them.”
He leaned closer until their noses nearly touched. “Can you see now?”
Julia’s mouth parted. Moisture glistened on the sensual slopes of her lips. His gaze drifted to her eyes. This close, he was amazed at the length of her lashes. Long and thick, they curled deliriously. Alec could tell from her rapid breathing that she was both frightened and excited. A sensual spell played between them, pulling them closer, making them
yearn
to touch and be touched.
Some inner voice he’d thought long dead whispered that he was taking this further than he should, but his body was too committed, his mind too focused to hear anything other than the luscious sound of her labored breathing.