Desire Me Always (12 page)

“Don't you think if that were the truth, you would explain why the monk's appearance in my day had you running out of here with some madman's purpose?”

The stable boy approached head down and looking uncomfortable as he took the reins from Nick's hands. His approach stopped her from saying anything more.

“A conversation better saved for when we are alone,” Nick said gently.

“And I asked you not to lecture me.” She dislodged her hand from his hold. “You may come and find me when you have something worthwhile to tell me.”

With that, she turned away and left him standing just outside the stable. Leaving the way she did was the start of a brilliant plan. A way to lure him away from Highgate by the ridiculous imposed deadline Shauley had given her. She would not fail in this task. She could not. Not at the risk of either of their lives. Not at the risk of losing what they had built over the last month.

She was reminded again that it was no easy feat to succeed at marriage. It took work. Hard work. And she hoped that her white lie would turn out to be a benefit to them both.

N
ick never imbibed freely of spirits. On occasion, he could tolerate a good deal of any fiery liquid poured down his throat, and drink any man under the table, but tonight . . . tonight he couldn't seem to pull back. More to the point, he didn't want to. He wanted to be lost in his cups, to forget why he was here. To forget his purpose in purchasing Caldon Manor.

His shoulder hit the wall on the curve of the stairs, and he fell heavily on the next step.

“Bloody fool, you are.” Huxley's stern voice barely made it through the grog and fog in Nick's head.

He slurred a string of words together, and Huxley got the gist of it.

“You aren't sleeping in my room. You'll have to see your wife, let her ring you out and twist your ear for being an idiot. Don't think you've had this much to drink in nigh on fifteen years, and then only after you won a fight that resulted in grave injuries for the other party.”

“Needing . . . needs . . . ” Nick pointed his finger at his friend, trying to bring his grim face into focus. “I don't need reminders, Huxley.”

Huxley's shoulder came up under Nick's arm, supporting most of his weight.

“Bloody heavy bloke, you are. Should just leave you here for the missus to find you, come morning.”

“I appreciate your help.” Nick's side hit the wall again. Amelia was not going to be happy to see him in this state. Getting lost in spirits had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Still didn't seem half bad, though he doubted he would make it back downstairs still standing.

But he'd angered his wife, and even he could admit he'd lost track of his purpose in coming to Highgate. He had tried to confront his past only to fail. So now what was he supposed to do?

“So many questions.”

“What are you yammering on about?” Huxley said.

“Amelia asks so many questions.”

“Drunk as a bloody lout. I hope you do regret this, come morning.”

“I will be fine.”

“You come see me at the crack of dawn and tell me that with the same conviction and I will never doubt you again.”

Huxley tossed him down on the floor in front of the rooms he shared with Amelia. His friend knocked on the door. They waited for what felt like forever. Perhaps it was forever, or even only a few minutes. He couldn't be sure. Sleep could find him anywhere right now. Mindless sleep. That was what he needed a night of. A mindless, numbing sound sleep, one without interruption. One without dreams.

When Amelia didn't answer the door, Huxley tried the knob, which didn't turn. At least she'd locked it before going to bed. Though now, he was locked out of his own room. There was a certain amount of humor in that, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Huxley cuffed him up the side of the head, making Nick's ears ring. “People are sleeping so shut it, or I'll toss you into the stables to sleep with the animals.”

“Shh,” Nick said to his friend and pushed his back against the wall next to the door. “Wait. I have a key.” He patted down his waistcoat pocket, his jacket pockets, but couldn't seem to locate what he was looking for.

Huxley searched Nick's pockets with quick efficiency and pulled out the key to Nick's room. “See, there it is.” Nick smiled up at his friend, but Huxley did not return the gesture; if anything, his frown deepened the lines on his forehead.

“If we wake Amelia, you get to explain to her what happened,” Huxley lectured him.

“I can do that,” Nick said as his friend unlocked the door and let it swing open. It was dark inside, almost like the room was beckoning Nick to step inside its warm, embracing arms and sleep comfortably, contently.

His wife, his bed . . . sleep. When was the last time he'd had a full night's rest? He couldn't recall.

“I don't think you ever slept a night like a babe on a woman's breast,” Huxley said in response to Nick's thoughts.

No, that didn't seem right. “Said that out loud?”

“You did. Now shut your trap before you wake your wife. Are you going to get up off the floor, or am I going to have to carry you to your own bed?”

Nick pushed his friend away when he attempted to help Nick to his feet.

“I can do this myself,” he said.

Huxley backed off, hands raised to indicate Nick was free to do as he pleased.

Nick pushed himself off the floor, none too elegantly, but he held on to the frame of the door and hauled himself up to a standing position.

He already felt a headache coming on, a testament of just how much he'd imbibed this evening. He covered his eyes with one hand. “Definitely going to regret this in the morning.”

“I told you that five whiskeys ago.”

Nick stood there, holding the frame of the door to keep his world from spinning, and looked at his friend though half-lidded eyes. Nick let go of the wall so he could point his forefinger at his friend. “You did me a service tonight. I'll sleep like a babe. Be the first time in . . . in a long time.”

“Well, get to bed, then, so I can find my own mattress for the night.”

“Thank you.”

“You won't be thanking me come morning.”

“Maybe not, but still needs to be said. You're a good friend, Huxley. And I doubt I'd have made it this far without you.”

“You certainly wouldn't have made it up the stairs.”

Nick thought Huxley wore a smirk before turning away, but he couldn't tell with his head spinning the way it was. He pushed himself through the doorway and into the room, stumbling toward the bed as he removed articles of clothing and let them drop to the floor. He wasn't sure all of them came off before he hit the bed like a bag of rocks. What he did know was that Amelia didn't curl into him as she always did, and that absence left a cold spot in his chest that he rubbed at until he fell asleep.

A
melia tilted her head to the side and stared down at her husband lying face down in their bed. He'd managed to pull off his jacket and waistcoat—those lay dejectedly on the floor where he'd tossed them on entering last night—but his shirt and trousers and his boots were still on.

While her temper had long ago cooled, the sight of his obvious drunken bout overnight did not bode well for her husband.

She'd honestly contemplated a bucket of cold water over his head to wake him, but that seemed cruel, and she didn't want to explain to the proprietor of the inn what had happened. Though the owners likely already knew what her husband had been up to last night, because Nick certainly hadn't been drinking in their room while she slept.

It was nearing ten in the morning, and Landon had sent a note an hour ago, asking when Nick wanted to reschedule their meeting. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that she'd never seen Nick sleep so soundly. It would serve him right if she left him here to sleep the remainder of the day, but that might mean they stayed tomorrow as well.

She hated to do it, but he had left her with no choice. Placing her knee on the bed to give her leverage, and wrapping her hands around his solid arms, she rolled him over and onto the floor. He hit it hard, making her cringe and feel a moment of regret.

She reminded herself that he had brought this on himself.

This was his fault, not hers. And he hadn't responded to any of her verbal requests to wake up.

“What in hell?” he grumbled, still half asleep. His hand grasped the edge of their bed, and Nick pulled up to a sitting position.

Amelia had already scooted away from the bed and taken a moment to compose herself. She placed one hand on her hip as she waited for Nick to make it to his feet.

He threw his arm over his eyes to block the light that was blinding him. She'd opened the curtains an hour ago, hoping the morning light would wake him.

She almost felt sorry enough to close them again.

Almost.

“I would apologize, but it's after ten, and you have missed your morning obligations. Landon sent a note for you an hour ago, and I felt it necessary to make excuses for you. Seeing you now, I wish I hadn't.”

Nick rubbed his hand over his eyes and peeked through a crack in his fingers.

“You look a little green this morning, husband. If this is going to be a common occurrence, I'd appreciate your telling me now. Because I certainly didn't realize I was marrying a man who spent the whole night out on a binge.”

Nick lowered his hand and gazed at her through narrowed eyes. “I can promise you did not.”

Amelia raised one eyebrow. She would not state the obvious. Surely he knew how bad this looked.

“What time did you say it was?”

With a huff, she lowered her hand and walked over to his waistcoat that had been tossed in the middle of the floor. She pulled out his watch, clicking it open.

“Twenty after ten.”

“I hadn't expected to be asleep so long.”

Amelia held out the note Landon had sent up.

Nick waved it away. “What does it say?”

“That he would be pleased to see you before we take our next meal. Though by the looks of you, I doubt you'll stomach anything at present.”

“No, nothing right now.” Nick stretched, the material of his shirt molding to his arms. He looked down at himself, as though just realizing he hadn't undressed before falling in bed.

“I admit to being surprised you didn't wake me last night. You probably stumbled all the way to bed.”

“You are no more surprised by that than I am.” Nick rubbed his bloodshot eyes again. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

“I'll ring for a bath.”

“I haven't the time.”

“You'll make time. You smell like the ale house you were in all night.”

“That bad?” He turned his head to look at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Yes. And don't think because you are ailing this morning from yesterday's overindulgence that I have forgiven you for walking out yesterday.”

“I haven't.”

“Haven't what?” Amelia walked around the bed so she wasn't talking to his back.

“Amelia, as much as I know we need to have this conversation, now is not going to work.”

“If that's the case, we will get on disagreeably, if for no other reason than your obstinacy.”

Amelia shut her eyes and took a deep breath as she counted to five. He was feeling the effects of the evening and would probably be an irritable companion for the remainder of the day.

Nick grasped her hand and pulled her closer. “I apologize for my state this morning. And to answer your earlier question, no, this is not usual for me.”

Wanting nothing more than to remain in charge of the situation and refusing to be placated by more promises from him, she said, “That has yet to be proven.”

“Fair enough,” he responded and released her to stand. He looked in pain, but he'd brought this upon himself and she refused to help him right now.

“Might I ask for what reason you imbibed so freely?” And carelessly, she wanted to say but didn't.

“You know why.”

“You have ordered me to stay away from the monk without providing a reason. Should I guess your intentions? I will give you this one last chance to tell me what is going on, or I will head back to London this instant.”

It wasn't a fair tactic to use when he was at a great disadvantage, but she had to use whatever leverage was available to her. Shauley's words were fresh in her mind, and she would heed his warning, if for no other reason than the fact that she still lived.

Either the conviction in which she made her threat or the words alone were enough, Nick caught her hands and pulled her suddenly into his large frame. On impact, she let out an oomph sound.

“I don't care if I reek like a man who swam in a barrel of cheap wine more odious than the Thames after it rains. You need to listen to me carefully, Amelia.”

She didn't release the hold she had on his arms. She wished all this was behind him, that the sudden worry she felt for his safety was a thing of the past. If only Shauley hadn't escaped after she'd been saved, then none of this would have been as big an issue as it had grown to be.

“I've been listening all along, Nick. And I could do without the manhandling.” Even though it was Nick, her husband, and the only man she loved, she was getting sick of being tossed around like rag doll.

He released her just as quickly as he'd gathered her close. She didn't move away, but stood her ground, breathing as heavily as a thoroughbred after a race won. Every inhalation caused her breasts to brush against his chest.

“I'm sorry for my actions, Amelia.” Nick's voice softened. “This place has the ability to strip away my humanity one layer at a time. I hate feeling like my back is exposed, waiting for the right enemy to happen by and strike me down. I'm nothing more than a moving target.”

“Do you think I hadn't noticed what this place was doing to you? Your nightmares have been more frequent, Nick. You haven't had a full night's sleep since we arrived—not counting last night.”

Before he could make further excuses, she raised her hand between them. Nick's words died on his lips. Finally, she had his full attention. Perhaps she was making headway.

“I love you. And I would hope that held some sort of weight. That you could trust me with your secrets.”

“Your love is everything to me. Everything,” he responded.

“If that were true, you wouldn't be chasing ghosts and letting your past consume you. While you've been watching me, Nick, I've been watching you. Whatever it is you are afraid to tell me, it's eating you up from the inside out, one day at a time. I see what this place is doing to you. It's cutting you down, piece by piece. It's destroying you. I want to help, but I can't if you won't let me in.”

“If you want the truth—”