Twice as Wicked

by Elizabeth Bright

  There was nothing more she wanted than to make Nathaniel hers, but perhaps he would be more willing if she first made peace with his brother. There was nothing else for it. She must see him before she spoke to Nathaniel. Since Nicholas was presently staying at the town inn rather than Haverly, thither she went. She did not mind the walk. Spring was about to turn to summer. Everything was lovely and just as it ought to be. The sun shining, the birds singing…the man with a pistol.

  She halted.

  “A moment of your time, please, Miss Bursnell,” he said.

  She did not think it boded well for her that he, at last, showed her his face. “Certainly, Mr. Manning.”

  He kept the pistol aimed squarely at her heart and stepped forward. “We had a bargain, Miss Bursnell, and you broke it.”

  “I did, indeed.”

  “You have made things very difficult for me. But no matter; I have a plan. Take me to Abingdon.”

  Fear rose in her throat like bile. “You mean Nicholas. Certainly. I will take you to him directly.”

  He laughed. “I would never survive such an encounter. Mr. Eastwood is a man of great physical prowess, and I, as you can see, am not. No, I prefer a game of the mind, for that is where I will have the upper hand.”

  She eyed the man speculatively. He was, as he had noted himself, slight of build, and only barely taller than herself. If he thought to win with his wits, he greatly underestimated Nicholas’s mind. However, she would certainly not enlighten him.

  “I will not take you to Abingdon,” she said. “But I am on my way to visit Mr. Eastwood, and you are welcome to join me.”

  He stared at her. “You must do as I say. I will shoot you if you do not.”

  “You will shoot me if I do. You are an assassin, and I have seen your face,” she said pragmatically. “I see no reason for Abingdon to die, as well.”

  He pushed his spectacles farther on his nose and glared. “You are trying my patience, Miss Bursnell.”

  “I do have that effect on people, yes,” she said agreeably, despite the weakness in her knees.

  “There are worse things than being killed, Miss Bursnell. Would you like to experience them?”

  “No, I would not.”

  “How fortunate, then, that I happen to be here,” said a voice she knew, and then he stepped out from the shadow of a tree. “I am Abingdon.”

  “Ah.” Manning adjusted his spectacles again. “Quite fortunate, indeed.”

  “Nathaniel, no—” she protested, but he simply moved her behind him.

  There was a sudden flurry of movement. Arms reached around her, dragging her backward. She had one horrifying glimpse of Manning’s arm twisted in a way an arm ought never to be twisted, and then she was turned into Nathaniel’s broad chest. There was a scream, a thud, and then silence.

  She clung to Nathaniel, trembling, breathing in his comforting scent.

  “Shh,” he said softly. “Everything is all right.”

  “Everything is not all right,” Nicholas said from a few yards away. “I should have killed him. Now what am I to do with the man? He must be taken to London, but there are matters here I must—” He broke off abruptly. “Never mind that. It pains me to say this, but I owe you my thanks, Miss Bursnell.”

  She raised her head and looked first at Nathaniel, who frowned down at her with frightening ferocity. She swallowed hard and tried to free herself from his arms, but they might as well have been made of iron. She settled for craning her neck to look over at Nicholas.

  “How did you know I was here?” she asked, flummoxed by the presence of both brothers.

  “I knew Manning would come for you,” said Nicholas. “I couldn’t follow him, since I had no idea what he looked like, so I followed you instead. I’ve been following you for days.”

  Oh, heavens. She’d never noticed. Her mind had been too cluttered with frustration and hurt over Nathaniel ignoring her.

  “When Nate discovered you had ventured out on your own without telling anyone,” Nicholas continued, “he understandably had a bad feeling about it and came to find you. Fortunately, I managed to stop him from walking straight into Manning, and we had time to strategize whilst you were goading him into killing you.”

  Nathaniel’s arms vibrated and tightened around her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Manning’s broken—but still breathing—body. Really, he had been right not to seek out Nicholas without careful planning aforethought. It had been ridiculously easy for Nicholas to overpower him. Which explained why Manning had tried to kill him with the blasted hole, rather than in a face-to-face confrontation.

  Too bad he’d nearly killed the wrong brother. Several times.

  For an assassin, he was rather careless, she thought.

  “What were you doing out here, Miss Bursnell?” Nicholas asked. “You oughtn’t to walk alone, you know.”

  “Yes, I know, but—” Again she tried to step from Nathaniel’s arms, and again he would not let her budge. She sighed, and looked up at him. “Please, Nathaniel. You may let go now.”

  He made a low, unhappy sound in his throat, but did as she asked.

  She felt Nicholas’s watchful, alert gaze on her as she lifted her skirts to step over Manning’s prostrate form.

  “Nicholas, I—” She glanced up. “Oh, dear. May I call you that?”

  He tilted his head and glanced between her and Nathaniel. “Of course. Under the circumstances, formality would be a bit absurd.”

  She paused, uncertain exactly what he meant by that, but continued frankly, “I do not like you, Nicholas. Your behavior toward my sister was abhorrent, and I can only suppose there were other ladies you treated just as shamefully. But Nathaniel loves you, and—” She broke off and cleared her throat, deciding to hold off on that train of thought. “In spite of everything, I find…I find I no longer wish you harm, Mr. Eastwood. In fact, I wish you happiness.”

  He studied her. “You really mean that.”

  She was somewhat astonished to find that she did. “Yes.”

  For a moment, his face was filled with such emotion that she blinked in surprise. And then it was gone.

  “Call me Nick,” he said. He turned back to Manning and nudged him with his toe. When there was no response, he smiled. “Take her home, Nate. I’ll deal with Manning.”

  Alice wondered how, exactly, he would do so. But it was better not to ask.

  “You’ll come later, then?” Nathaniel asked, and she heard the thread of hope in the question.

  Nicholas must have heard it, too, for there was affection in his voice when he said, “Soon.”

  Nathaniel nodded. He put his hand to her waist, guiding her past Manning’s body. She glanced up at him, and the agony of the past week closed in on her once again. Would he go back to ignoring her?

  No. Not if she could help it.

  She thought about the advice Duke Wessex had given her earlier. And straightened her spine.

  Time to gather up every last ounce of courage.

  And do what should have been done days ago.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Nathaniel watched his brother stride away with mixed feelings. He wanted to call him back and insist he return with them to Haverly at once, to fulfill their father’s dearest wish without delay.

  But Nathaniel had his own dearest wish to deal with.

  And unfinished business with Alice.

  He turned to her, and instantly his mind surged back to that distressing conversation he’d overheard earlier between Wessex and Colonel Kent in the garden.

  He needed to set Alice straight. The notion that she should even consider marrying another man was completely unacceptable.

  He felt a soft touch on his arm. She was there, smiling up at him.

  She looked happy, he thought bleakly. She looked like a woman in love.

  His heart sank to his feet, reminding him of the huge gaping hole that overheard conversation had left in his chest.

  She p
robably shouldn’t be out here with him, unchaperoned, as another man’s betrothed, but since he had no intention of allowing any such marriage to take place, that fact rested lightly on his conscience.

  “Shall we walk?” she asked. Her voice trembled slightly. No doubt she was still upset over nearly being kidnapped and murdered.

  He held out his arm. She took it and led him, surprisingly, not toward the house at Haverly but across a field toward the lake. Their lake, as he had come to think of it.

  For several minutes, he struggled with what to say. How to convince her to pick him. How to beg for another chance after he’d been such an idiot.

  But in the end, he just blurted out, “You cannot marry Colonel Kent if you’re carrying my child,” and was mildly relieved the words came out firm rather than desperate.

  She turned to him with wide eyes. “What an odd thing to say.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, to tell her that, no, it was not odd to claim one’s child as one’s own, and furthermore, she could not marry Kent, baby or no baby—although, Nathaniel fully intended there to be a baby. As soon as possible.

  But just then, she halted and looked about. They had almost reached the lake.

  “Yes, right here,” she said, more to herself than him. “This is the place.”

  He looked at the daffodils bobbing their golden heads at his boots, and recognition flooded him.

  Ah, yes.

  “The place where I tripped over my own feet,” he murmured, chagrined that she would pick this particular spot to remind him of his failings as compared with the estimable colonel.

  “No. The place where I fell in love with you.”

  He froze. And stared at her in astonishment.

  And joy.

  Had he heard correctly?

  “You…what?”

  His heart magically reappeared in its rightful spot and immediately began beating as fast as humanly possible to make up for lost time.

  She pointed to the far side of the lake. “Over there is where I saw you. I did not realize it was you at first, only that there was a half-naked man running madly around the lake. I should have left immediately. It was terribly improper of me to stay, but I couldn’t help myself.” She gave him a shy little smile. “You were magnificent.”

  Happiness broke over him like a wave. She thought he was magnificent?

  “But that wasn’t love,” she continued. “It was merely lust. Much as was our first kiss.”

  “Well, I—” His throat closed.

  “I have given it a great deal of thought, trying to pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with you, Nathaniel Eastwood,” she said.

  “Did you?” he said rather breathlessly. It was all he could manage. He removed his jacket and dropped it to the ground. It was absurdly hot for April.

  “Oh, yes. And what I determined was, it wasn’t a single moment. Rather, it was a series of moments, starting right here when you sat down next to me, and I realized how happy I was to talk to you.”

  He removed his cravat. It was choking him. That must be why he couldn’t speak more than two syllables at a time.

  “It was when I knew I would get you out of that ridiculous hole or die trying. It was when you asked me to marry you and I couldn’t say yes, but, oh, how I wanted to! It was when you challenged Nicholas to a duel.” She frowned suddenly. “Although, you must never do that again. Never. My nerves couldn’t stand it.”

  God, she was so adorable with her brow puckered up in concern. He removed her bonnet and unbuttoned her pelisse. She distractedly allowed him to slip it from her shoulders. It joined his jacket and cravat on the ground.

  “I want more of those moments,” she said. “I want to hear all your stories, and tell you all mine. I want to laugh with you and dance with you and…and kiss you. I want to spend the rest of my life falling in love with you over and over again. I want— What are you doing?”

  He flicked open the last two buttons on his shirt. “Undressing.”

  “You can’t. We’re out of doors! Someone could see.” But her eyes were drifting down his chest. She licked her lips.

  He put his arms around her and pressed kisses to her collarbone. “Lie with me.”

  “Nathaniel, pay attention! I am asking you to marry me!”

  He smiled against her neck. “Does that mean you are not going to marry Colonel Kent? I heard there was a special license.”

  She leaned back and looked at him incredulously. “Colonel Kent? Oh, do be serious. The license is for us.”

  Thank God. Sometimes being wrong was the best feeling in the world.

  He pulled her back against him. “I’m very serious. Lie with me.”

  “I— I…”

  He could feel the moment she surrendered. She melted against him, and he guided her gently down to her pelisse.

  “Alice.” His hands dove under her dress, pushing down her undergarments. He found her soft curls and sifted them between his fingers. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  She gazed up at him. He watched her eyelids slowly grow hooded while he played with her. When she was wet and swollen, he freed himself and settled between her legs.

  “I love you.” He held her gaze with his. “Love me.”

  “I do,” she whispered.

  He surged into her. She cried out, arching her hips to meet him.

  Long moments later, after they had both floated back to earth, he tried to roll off of her, but his strength deserted him. He shifted his weight so he wasn’t crushing her and buried his face in her throat. She lazily traced the muscles on his shoulder with her fingertips.

  “Nathaniel,” she said. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Hmm?” he muttered. He was so pleasantly sleepy.

  Her nails sank into his shoulder, making him yelp.

  Then he remembered.

  He smiled.

  “God, yes, I’ll marry you.” He nipped her lightly on her bottom lip. “I thought you would never ask.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  “What do you suppose Nicholas did with Manning?” Alice asked Nathaniel later that evening.

  “I truly do not care,” he said.

  He had not let her out of his sight since they’d made love by the lake…and sweetly promised each other to spend their lives together.

  After dinner, he had insisted she keep him company in his study while he attended to a few pressing matters. Which was slightly ridiculous, since the danger to both of them was now over…not to mention she was growing dreadfully bored.

  “I would like to go now,” she said. “I’m sure Eliza is looking for me.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “No, Alice.”

  Petulant, she sat on his desk, swinging her legs and trying her best to distract him from his work.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked a few minutes later, peering over his arm.

  “I am writing to your father. It is hard to convey the proper urgency of the matter. I cannot just say, I must marry your daughter at once to keep her in my bed.” He paused. “Can I?”

  She chuckled despite herself. “Probably not the best approach.”

  Not that her father would need convincing. Nathaniel was in line for an earldom, after all. Alice’s prospects couldn’t get better than that. Her mother would be over the moon. And Adelaide—

  Alice was filled with a newfound peace when she thought about her dear sister. She still missed her terribly, but her pain was slowly turning to acceptance and forgiveness…and hope. When Alice had planned her revenge a year ago, she could never have guessed that it would lead to her life’s greatest happiness.

  Somehow, she was certain Adelaide was looking down at her from heaven, and smiling.

  She leaned up and kissed her beloved’s jaw. “You will think of something, I’m sure.”

  He pursed his lips as he pored over the letter. “I really should present myself in person and ask your father properly.”

&nbs
p; Good lord. “I believe the special license is only good for a few days,” she hastened to say. She had no idea if that was true or not, but she liked the idea of a delay even less than Nathaniel did. She gave him a sly glance. “I suppose that won’t matter, though, since my mother will no doubt insist we have a proper engagement. Six months, at least.”

  He glanced at her. “No.”

  “Why not?” She gave an exaggerated shrug. “I daresay you’ll survive that long without me in your bed.”

  His chair scraped back, and two strong arms wrapped around her in a vise. “No, Alice.”

  She struggled to free herself, stifling a giggle. He was so easy. “Why no? Why do you never say yes?”

  “I say yes to a great many things. When you say more tea, for example. Or kiss me. Or, my particular favorite, please. To all those things, I say yes. But a long engagement? To that, I say absolutely not.”

  She smiled. “More tea?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Always.” He freed her arms, and she refilled his cup, adding milk.

  “Kiss me?”

  “With pleasure.” He leaned in, kissing her sweetly.

  “Please?” she whispered.

  He stood up, strode to the door, and locked it.

  “Someone will discover us,” she said, but opened her arms to him.

  “No, they won’t. I’m in my study, tending to estate business. You are likely taking an evening stroll. Miss Benton is with you.”

  Alice laughed. His arms went around her, and he nibbled along her jaw to her earlobe.

  “We will marry in three days’ time, and that’s the end of it. Agreed?”

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She wound her arms around her lover’s neck.

  “I like ‘please’ better.”

  “Please, my love,” she whispered.

  “God, yes. Always.”

  She felt it again, then, deep in her chest. It always happened that way when she was with him—that feeling of expanding to fullness. Just when she thought she had reached the end of it, that she couldn’t possibly love him any more than she already did, she found she could. Her heart could stretch and grow. Just a little bit. And then a little bit more.