I’m not like the men you’re used to.
She hoped that to be true. She hoped Nash found Lord Selby, and that Lord Brandell answered for his crimes.
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15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
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Nash finished his final class with an older gentleman, who, in a matter of months, had become a better fighter than many of the younger men Nash trained. It was unfortunate that fights were illegal in London, because he was sure if a man built a venue for such events, he would stand to make a handsome profit.
After leaving Lord Brandell’s home the previous night, Nash had reported the strange dinner to Chris and Reuben. As he’d suspected, both men were surprised that everything was happening so quickly. If Brandell suspected Nash of being the true heir, it was likely his uncle would attack soon, if he were in fact the danger Nash thought him to be.
Time would tell.
The clerk caught his attention before he reached the door. “Iverstone wishes to see you.” There was nothing ominous about the comment, but Nash knew the clerk well enough to know he never displayed emotion about what took place at the club.
Nash turned and headed back toward the main lobby.
The club was located on St. James, but was not as large as many of the other clubs. It stretched on top of a watchmaker’s and chandler’s shop. There was a chamber for bathing, and two rooms for training. There was no drawing room or dining room. The men who came knew that if they wanted tea, to stay at White’s. Some commoners came for training as well, but their training hours were restricted to the early morning when the ton were still asleep, or the late evening when the ton were at their parties. As most places went, the two classes didn’t mix.
The top, and last floor, was where the offices were located. Nash took the stairs, holding onto the freshly waxed banister. The interior was mostly wood and windows. One could hear the training from the street, but since it didn’t start until the second level, they could never see what went on inside.
Nash made it to the third floor and went straight to Iverstone’s office.
He knocked and then entered, after being granted permission.
Iverstone was looking over books as Nash entered, but his pale green eyes found him instantly. He nodded to the chair in front of him. “Sit. I’ve some information for you.”
Nash took the chair and said nothing while he waited.
Iverstone leaned back in his chair. Even sitting, he was a large man, and all the duke’s sons were built in the same fashion. Nash had heard more than one person wonder aloud if Nash were related to the McKays in some way, and while, for years, he’d indulged the idea, even wishing it to be so, he finally knew who he was.
Iverstone reached into his desk and placed a sheet in front of Nash. There was a name and address. “After you brought your concerns for Lord Selby to me, I decided to look into the matter m’self. There is a woman who claims he visited her. We had to… frighten her to get answers, but in the end, she said she could prove she knew the lord, but since her details were of an intimate nature, I decided against taking those particular notes.”
Nash could only imagine what the woman had used as evidence. Immediately, he believed her, or at least believed she knew something about Lord Selby, but then, where did Mr. Ogden and Mr. Reed fit it?
“Where does she live?” Nash asked.
Iverstone hesitated, but it was so quick one could have missed it if they didn’t know him. “A small house just south of London.”
Nash frowned. South was the direction the men had gone on their fishing trip. “Is she a maid to someone you know?”
Iverstone shook his head. “No. In fact, she’s the sister of one of the men here. That’s how I found out about her. The lord had been discussing Lord Selby, and one of the maids just happened to be listening, while knowing I was looking for information on Selby.”
Nash grinned, but then slowly it began to fade. “A lord’s sister? Is she a lady?”
“No. Her mother was unwed when she was born,” Iverstone said. “So, she doesn’t move in the circles of the ton for obvious reasons.”
“What happened to Lord Selby after he left her?” Nash asked.
Iverstone shrugged. “She said she doesn’t know. He was there and then he was gone. My men said she seemed innocent, so they didn’t wish to hurt her, but I imagine you could charm an answer from her.”
Nash would have to, if he hoped to find Lord Selby before it was too late.
He stood. “I’ll visit her today. Thank you. I didn’t expect you to look into the matter.”
The duke nodded. “You, of all people, have rarely come to me with a favor in the past. I’m glad I could help.”
Nash stared at him and wondered if the man were still trying to repay him for saving Manas’ life in Newgate over a decade ago. If he was, there was no need, for he’d already returned the favor in full when he’d pulled Nash from that abominable place.
But instead of saying any of that, he said, “I’ve one other person I’d like you to look into.” Without telling the duke details about himself, he asked the duke to look into Mr. Jeb Reed.
“I’ll see what can be found,” the duke promised, and, with that, Nash left.
He was already late for his meeting with Samantha. The thought of seeing her made his feet rush in the direction of the place they’d met. Who’d have thought that one impossible night would lead to him meeting a lady who made him feel more alive than anything else he’d ever engaged in. Neither the pleasure he would get at the end of a fight, or his time with other women, could compare to his moments with Sam. He had no clue why she fascinated him so much with her drawings of fantastical gardens. When she’d shared that the design was for no one’s garden but her own, Nash had felt the strangest thing: a driving need to be the one who secured her that garden. He could afford to purchase a home, but had never felt the need to live anywhere else but in the rooms he rented, above another shop in St. James. That was where he spent most of his days. Chris’s shops were nearby, as was the club.
He’d needed little else until recently. Now, his mind was splintering into different directions. There was the desire to see to his uncle’s end. The need to find Selby, and an ever- growing need to know everything he could about Samantha. He’d ignored the gossip. Instead, he wanted to hear about her past from her. He wanted to earn her trust. He also wanted to earn his mother’s trust. The thought that their time together would come to end once Lord Selby was found bothered him. He liked seeing her, even if she never knew who he was.
The day was warm, but the clouds that surrounded the heavens kept most of the heat back. It was mid-afternoon, which meant the fashionable crowd was out shopping. Conversations of both the wealthy and workmen flowed around him, along with the trotting of horses’ hooves on the road. The scents that came from a nearby bakery quieted the foul odors of animals for the next block, and then he saw her.
Samantha stood with her head bent to Lady Brandell, with Lady Selby on her other side, but it was Samantha who stole the moment. Even with all the rumors that surrounded her, the men who strolled past couldn’t help but look at her.
He quickened his steps until she was before him. “Good afternoon.”
Three smiles turned to him. His mother’s warmed his heart. Samantha’s was a punch to the gut, stealing his next breath.
She stepped closer with her eyes blazing with warmth, and said, “Lord Brandell came to me last night and gave me an address. It may be where Lord Selby is being held.”
It took Nash a moment to get past the fact that Lord Brandell had visited Samantha the previous evening. Where? When? He needed to speak to her alone about this, yet as he remained silent, one vision after another flooded his mind.
“Mr. Smith?”
He glanced over and found Lady Brandell watching him oddly. Then she g
lanced down at his hands.
He looked at them as well, and saw he’d formed them into fists. The knuckles were white, ugly with bruises of training and fighting, visible to the women. He never wore kid gloves when he roamed London, unless he was attending a formal affair.
He relaxed his hands and turned to Samantha. “My apartments are not far from here. Come with me.”
He led the women a few blocks, and then turned down an alley and used the back door to the building that led to his home.
Samantha glanced around Nash’s apartment once they made it to the second floor, and was surprised when she found it to be very tidy and well decorated. Though it was small, the space seemed rather large by the light furnishings, which was yet another thing that surprised her. If she’d imagined Nash’s home, she’d have expected dark colors, but cool blues and greens greeted her, along with an airy clean scent.
He led them to the sitting room and took a chair once the ladies had sat on the couch.
“Let me see the address.” He held out his hand to her and she handed him the sheet.
His eyes remained on her for a moment, before he glanced down. Frustration drew his brows together even as he spoke. “It’s not far from the one I’ve received from Lord Iverstone, today.” Then he told them about the discussion he’d had with the duke just an hour ago. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
Samantha agreed, and thought this good news, but the way Nash looked at her made her think otherwise.
Then he stood. “I’ll leave at once, and report to you my findings.”
“We’re coming with you,” Samantha said. It was just what the women had been discussing when Nash approached. Time was running out. They needed to find Lord Selby.
Nash frowned at her. “This could be dangerous, and is definitely not a place for a lady.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lady Selby’s lips trembled as her eyes watered. “My son is all I have left. Please, I need to find him. Too much time has passed. Who knows what has happened to him.”
Lady Brandell wrapped her arms around her friend. “We either go with you, or we go alone. You choose.”
Samantha prepared herself for further debate and was quite surprised when Nash said, “All right, but I would like to depart as soon as possible.”
“The servants have already packed our bags,” Samantha said. They’d been preparing for this meeting since first light. They’d take Samantha’s carriage. This way, no one would be sure if Lady Brandell or Lady Selby had left the city.
When Lady Selby’s tears would no longer hold, Lady Brandell pulled her to her feet and led her from the room, once Nash gave them use of his office.
Nash hadn’t returned to his chair since the moment he’d stood, and she watched as he moved across the room to the window that faced the street. The note she’d given him was in his hands. “When did Lord Brandell give this to you?” He stared at it with a look close to rage.
Samantha’s heart fluttered. She’d told Lady Brandell what had taken place; and had been surprised when the woman had suggested they find other accommodations. Together. That Lady Brandell had believed Samantha when she’d told her that nothing had taken place between her and the earl had surprised her; but knowing the woman would continue to support her was an entirely different matter.
Of course, she could only accept the new accommodations until her father came for her at the end of the Season. No matter what she tried to convince herself, and no matter how strong she pretended to be, as the days passed, and her deadline came closer, the truth became clear.
She could never turn her back on her father. The option to be a spinster had never truly been an option at all. Not when she’d lose the sole member of her family, and wasn’t a good daughter supposed to obey her father, no matter what?
Lady Brandell was so kind now, and Sam was beginning to feel she could trust the woman more each day.
But telling Nash… she was worried. Would he believe her story, or think she’d somehow ‘earned’ the note that was in his hand, by giving Brandell her body?
“Nothing happened,” she whispered.
He turned to her. “He didn’t touch you.” It almost sounded like a command, as though he were demanding the words to be so.
She paused, since she couldn’t indefinitely say he’d not touched her—
A glass fixture that had been sitting on the pianoforte by the window crashed to the ground. The sound of it startled her, but not as much as the venomous look in Nash’s eyes.
A young woman appeared, almost out of thin air, at the door. She took one look at the mess and moved toward it.
“Not now,” Nash told her. “Leave, and make sure the other women are served tea in the office.”
The maid left.
While Nash had spoken, his eyes had remained on Samantha, and she stood in surprise when he began to stroll in her direction.
He stopped less than a foot away. His hands were once again two large fists. “What happened?”
“Lord Brandell has wanted me for a while, but I refuse him. I always refuse.”
He didn’t bother raising his voice. The coolness of his tone was just as harsh. “What happened?”
“He kissed me before he left my room. That’s all.” Please believe me. She’d spent a great portion of the night cleaning her mouth as best she could, once the earl left. She’d wanted to take a bath, but the hour had been too late to wake the servants. “Nothing else happened.”
He touched her then. He cupped her face in his hands. The hold was gentle, but there was nothing gentle about his eyes. “If he hurt you…” The hold became firmer. “Samantha, I’ll make any man who hurts you, regret it.”
She remained still, his words holding her in place, as much as his touch.
When he leaned down to take her mouth, she pressed closer, clinging to him, sucking him in, hoping he’d remove the thoughts of the last man who’d touched her.
His hand slipped behind her head, while the other wrapped around her waist, dragging her closer. She was so close. Reminding herself to the decision she made to stay away from him, when it came, did not make her let him go.
His tongue was a surprise. Pleasant. She grew warm with his every caress.
“He can’t have everything,” Nash whispered against her mouth between kisses. “He doesn’t get you.”
She knew what he spoke of. The earldom. The house. Everything that belonged to his brother was now his, but Nash wouldn’t allow the earl to have her. That was comforting in the most wonderful way.
“You’re mine.” His voice vibrated with power, and the arms he placed around her made her feel possessed in the most delicious way.
Yes, her mind cried as she grabbed his neck and pulled him closer, as they cemented his declaration.
She wondered how she’d ever decided to stay away from him, when all she truly wanted to do was be close, to run her hands through his dark hair as she did now.
Her father’s deal.
The memory of it was like a slap in the face, and had her jumping from Nash’s arms and turning away quickly. Her heart raced as she realized what she’d done. Her fingers at her mouth and throat trembled.
She felt his approach. His body drifted closer until he was finally touching her. His arms went around her waist. She closed her eyes, when the need to lean back and lock herself in his embrace began to press on her every bone.
“What happened between us was good. Don’t think anything else of it.”
She nearly wanted to laugh. Did he think that was the reason she’d pulled away? Because giving liberties made her a wanton?
If only he knew.
What would he do if he knew?
“I…” She tried to calm herself before she turned in his arms and said, “I can’t be yours.” At the same time, she touched his arms and tried push him away. She might as well have been pushing a mountain though, for he didn’t move.
“Why not?” he asked, his eyes the warmest blue she’d ever se
en. “I don’t care about the rumors. I wish to court you. Properly. In front of the world of London.”
Her eyes widened, and her heart stopped. “You barely know me.”
“But I want to get to know you.” He tightened his arms, lowering his head closer to hers. “I’ve… never felt this way about a woman before, Samantha. I want to know everything about you.”
Her reply was barely a whisper. “No, you don’t…”
“I do.” His eyes became heated. “And I know if you feel something for me, as well. I won’t believe what anyone else says. There’s a connection between us. Tell me you feel it.”
Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 12
