The Fortune Hunter

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The Fortune Hunter Page 25

by Jo Ann Ferguson


  Her nose wrinkled when the itch returned. She rubbed the back of her hand on it. She frowned as the ticklish sensation transferred to her hand.

  Opening her eyes, she saw a strand of her hair propped in front of her face. Past it, a white shirt was only half-buttoned and revealed a strong chest. She raised her eyes to Hamilton’s smile.

  “Are you always so late abed?” he asked as he sat next to her, his arm resting on the pillow on the far side of her head.

  “What time is it?” The bed curtains blocked the windows, and she could not guess the hour from the way the sunlight swept across the rug.

  “Nearly midday.”

  He chuckled when she regarded him in astonishment. As she sat, keeping the cover modestly against her, although there was no part of her he had not explored intimately during the night, he did not move. No more than a shadow’s breadth separated them.

  With a voracious moan, he swept her into his arms and against his mouth. She released the covers as her hands slipped beneath his open shirt. Even though he had given her little time for sleep that night, the need to touch him had not diminished.

  “You are sweet,” he whispered. “I think I shall keep you here with me the rest of the day.”

  “I can’t.” Sliding her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for the clothes she had tossed aside during the night.

  “Why not?” He ran a finger along her bare leg as she pulled on her chemise and stockings.

  “I must return to Bath.”

  “Today?”

  She smiled as she heard the dismay in his voice. She knew that feeling too well, for she hated the thought of even a moment away from him. Dressing quickly, she tied her stays in place as best she could. “Cole sent a letter to let me know he intends to return before the week is out. I must be there to welcome him home.”

  “You do not need to go back.”

  Nerissa pulled her gown over her head and settled it into place. As he hooked it closed, she whispered, “What do you mean?”

  “I thought you might wish to stay here with me.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Or we can return to Queen Square, if you wish.”

  Walking away, she put her hand on one of the columns, marking the bed’s alcove. She did not face him as she said, “You are asking the impossible.”

  “Why?” He turned her to him. Encircling her face with his hands, he asked, “My sweet, do you wish never again to share what we had here?”

  She drew his hands away from her face and held them in hers. “Hamilton, don’t ask me such silly questions. Staying with you would be the most glorious thing I could imagine, but I am not like Mrs. Howe.”

  “Blast Elinor! I have forgotten her, Nerissa. Why can’t you?”

  “You have not forgotten her.”

  “Nerissa, I assure you—”

  As he had so many times, she interrupted him. “You carry her in your heart, even when you hold me. Her legacy of pain still resides there. As your father was betrayed by that thief, you were betrayed by the first woman you dared to love.”

  Hamilton watched her cross the room to where a full-length mirror was set by a window. She pulled a chair in front of it and sat down to try to rearrange her messed hair.

  “Only Philip has learned to trust again,” she continued, “and he has won the prize he values more than pride or vengeance. He has won Annis’s love.”

  “Be glad for them, but I cannot offer you the same.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?” He had not thought she would be the one to shock him this morning. As she brushed her hair back and tied it with a blue ribbon, he stroked her slender shoulders. He looked into the reflection of her eyes in the glass.

  Her fingers settled on his, and she smiled into the glass. “Dear Hamilton, I love you.” She laughed gently. “No, you need not look so stricken. I do not ask you to say the same back to me until you can say those words with genuine sentiment.”

  He whirled her around on the chair and bent until his eyes were even with hers. “There is no room in my life for you now. Until I have done as I vowed, I must think of nothing else.”

  When she rose, he stepped back. She crossed the room and found her slippers. Pulling them on, she said, “Do not make the same mistake you feared Philip would make. Do not throw your life away on something that may be only a meaningless posturing.”

  “This vow means everything to me.”

  “Then,” she said quietly, as she walked toward him, “I feel sorry for you, Hamilton. Some day, you may find that conveyancer. You shall have hunted down your fortune and gotten your vengeance.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek that was rough with morning whiskers. “I hope that will be enough for you.”

  She gave him no time to retort as she went to the door, opened it, and shut it softly behind her. It was just as well, because, for once, he had no quick retort.

  “And, of course, you must stand up with me, although Janelle is beside herself with envy that I shall be married at Windham Park,” Annis said as she picked up one of the cards in the pattern book and tilted it. “Do you think this would make a lovely wedding dress, Nerissa?”

  Nerissa smiled and said absently, “It would look lovely on you.”

  “You are being too generous. Madame would much prefer to be making a wedding gown for you.” She leaned forward and smiled. “You have been oddly reticent since we returned from Windham Park. Are you sure you aren’t concealing something from me? I saw how Hamilton was looking at you when we were in the country.”

  Nerissa put down the book that she had not realized she was holding, and walked to look out on the street beyond her sitting-room window. She hoped Annis could not guess how hard it was to hide the truth. She loved Hamilton with every inch of her being. Only his need to avenge his father’s humiliation had prevented him from saying the same to her. Hadn’t it? She must believe that, or she was sure she would shatter and babble the truth.

  The past two days had been the longest she had ever endured. Annis had moved back to Camden Crescent in preparation for Cole’s homecoming, but that was not the reason Nerissa suffered such a void in her life. She had hoped Hamilton could convince his guests to return to Bath quickly, but that had not happened. Although she had been sucked into the whirl of excitement as Philip had come into Town long enough to garner Mrs. Ehrlich’s approval of his suit, each hour seemed more interminable than the previous one.

  How many goose’s gazettes had she spoken? Frye believed that Nerissa had spent that last night at Windham Park with Annis, planning the wedding. She never had been false with her abigail before, and it disturbed her deeply.

  With a sigh, she looked at the table by the window. On it were the papers she must sign in order to sell Hill’s End. They had been waiting for her upon her return to Bath, but she had not signed them yet. Once she did, she surrendered her last hope of a miracle preventing the sale.

  “Nerissa?”

  At Annis’s discomposed voice, Nerissa gave her friend a smile. “You are seeing the whole world in the rosy glow of the love you share with Philip. You would be wise not to allow it to deceive you into seeing things that are not true.”

  “Don’t try to trip me the double!” Annis set herself on her feet and folded her arms across her bosom, looking for the first time like her formidable mother. “My eyes can see quite clearly. More clearly than ever before, if you wish to know the truth. You love Hamilton.”

  “I would be spoony to fall in love with a man who makes it no secret that he wishes to enjoy his bachelor’s fare, wouldn’t I?”

  Annis’s face toppled into a mask of sorrow. Running to Nerissa, she took her hands and drew her to sit on the window bench. “Oh, my dearest Nerissa, how do you endure loving a man who refuses to own that he loves you, too?”

  Nerissa could not silence the sobs that erupted from her heart. As Annis held her, whispering words of consolation, Nerissa wept for the only remaining dream she had. She feared the dream of loving Hamilt
on was as doomed as all the other hopes she had dared to cherish.

  “The Mail should have been in Bath hours ago.” Vexation tainted Frye’s voice as she strode along the walkway. “It may simply be delayed, or Mr. Pilcher may have decided to take it tomorrow.”

  “Yes.”

  “Miss Dufresne, are you listening to me? Will you slow down?”

  Nerissa pulled her shawl closer to her chin. A raw wind made the day unseasonably cool, and she wanted nothing more than to get back to Laura Place. Not only could she get a cup of hot tea, but she would not have to chance meeting someone who had been at Windham Park. If she saw one of Hamilton’s guests, she would know that Hamilton was back in Bath, too, although he had not called.

  Frye could not hide her satisfaction that he had not come to Laura Place. Nor had she allowed Nerissa to wait for him to give her a look-in. She had insisted on her charge accompanying her on errands every afternoon, even chilly ones like today.

  “I am listening to you, Frye,” she answered irritably. “And I am hurrying because I am cold.”

  “You are becoming just like your brother,” the abigail chided. “Only you do not walk about with your nose in a book to warn us of when you are off among your dreams. Now, I was saying.…”

  Nerissa tried to listen as Frye prattled on about the latest contretemps at the butcher’s shop, but she did not care a rush that Mr. Young was charging a penny more for a pound of mutton. Suddenly Frye’s voice rose to a shriek just as Nerissa was stepping into the street to their house.

  Nerissa looked to her left to see a carriage bearing down on her. Leaping back onto the walkway, she gasped as the vehicle came to a stop only inches from where she had been standing. She closed her eyes while she fought her shivers of dismay. Becoming lost in her thoughts was proving to be a deadly pastime. She heard a squeak from the carriage, followed by assertive footsteps.

  “Are you unhurt? Damn, how could you be so stupid?” The voice and the anger were both endearingly familiar, and she opened her eyes to see Hamilton’s face, which was as grey as his eyes that flashed with fury.

  Her knees threatened to buckle, and she reached out to clutch his arms, then halted her hands. To touch him—especially at that moment when every nerve was so raw—would undo her completely.

  “The least you could do,” he snapped, “is to say that you are sorry for scaring nigh to a year off my life!”

  “I am sorry.” She could force her voice no louder than a whisper as she swayed.

  Hamilton cursed and caught her before she could fall. “Blast it, Nerissa, what would you do if I wasn’t about to save you?”

  “I would not need saving if you didn’t drive at such a speed along this busy street.”

  When he chuckled, she opened her eyes to see his scintillating smile. “You are unhurt, for you flay me most fiercely with words when you are in a snit.”

  “I am not in a snit.” She started to ease out of his arms, but they refused to release her. “Hamilton, we are on the street.”

  “I know that.” He put his lips against her bonnet as he whispered, “And I know I can go no longer without you in my bed.”

  “Hamilton, I …” She started to laugh as he affixed an angelic expression on his face. The false humility would not have bamboozled anyone. When he joined in her laughter, she added, “You shall never change.”

  “You are wrong, my sweet.” He stepped back and locked his hands behind his dark coat. “I would like to give you an opportunity to prove how wrong you are and let you own to that mistake this evening, if you would consent to be my guest for dinner.”

  “I would be delighted to—”

  “Miss Dufresne, your brother might be arriving tonight,” Frye said, annoyance returning to her voice. “What would he think if you were not there to greet him?”

  Nerissa pulled her gaze away from Hamilton’s smile. She had forgotten that her abigail stood behind her. With a sigh, she said, “Frye is correct. If Cole returns tonight, he will be anxious to share his news of his journey to London.”

  “Bring him with you.”

  “He will be exhausted, Lord Windham,” Frye said in her most repressive accents. “I am sure you can understand that after your recent sojourn to Town.” She flashed Nerissa a glance as if she was proud of bringing the reminder of Mrs. Howe into the conversation.

  “Mayhap I should decline.” Nerissa sighed silently, wishing she could ask Hamilton what he meant by his cryptic words.

  His thumb grazed her jaw as he tilted her face upward. “Nerissa, we need to speak together.”

  “I know, but it must wait.”

  “I am not sure I can wait. Do you know that you have made me queer in the attic with longings which would put you to the blush if I was so brazen to speak of them on the walkway?”

  “I have thought endlessly of you,” she breathed, knowing that to be false when he touched her was as inconceivable as not thinking of him. When she raised her hand toward his face, not caring that they stood in public view, her arm was grasped.

  She whirled to see Frye’s scowl, which transformed her face into a furious mask. “Come along, Miss Dufresne. You do not want to have your brother arrive home before you.”

  “Frye, he cannot enter the house without us seeing him.”

  “Miss Dufresne!”

  “Go along with your comb-brush, who is trying to brush you away from me.” Hamilton grinned, but Frye’s frown pulled her face into deeper ruts. Bowing his head toward them, he went on, “I shall call tomorrow, Nerissa. Mayhap a bit early, so we may have some time for conversation that is not laced with recriminations and thwarted desires. As tomorrow is Wednesday, I collect that you will have your usual at home.”

  “She may not,” Frye snapped.

  “I will,” Nerissa said tautly. Pulling her arm out of Frye’s chubby hand, she smiled at Hamilton before turning to continue along the walkway with her abigail. She looked back to see him standing alone by his carriage. The anguish in her heart matched what she had seen in his eyes.

  Frye wasted no time lambasting Nerissa for lacking sense. As they entered the house, she said, “I thought you had seen reason when you rid yourself of Lord Windham upon our return from the country. Now, when he comes home by weeping cross—most falsely, too, if you wish my opinion—you flirt with him on the street as if you were the cheapest wench. Can’t you see that he intends to be your ruin?”

  “You would find fault with a fat goose!” Nerissa shot back. “Lord Windham is my friend.” She almost stumbled on the words, which were no longer the truth, but continued gamely. “I do not like being told that I cannot speak to a friend while out on my errands.”

  Frye put her packages on a bench in the foyer. “You must own that you consider him far more than a cap acquaintance.”

  “Of course, but, Frye, you should not listen to the poker-talk. Hamilton is a gentleman.” Even when we are in his bed, she thought, for she could imagine no lover more gentle than Hamilton. She silenced the rebellious beat of her heart as she eagerly recalled his enticing touch.

  “If your mother was still alive, she would give me my absence without leave for allowing you to go about with no duenna other than Miss Ehrlich, who clearly was too interested in Lord Windham’s brother to pay much mind to anything else.” Frye fiercely untied the ribbons on her bonnet. “Gull that I am, I thought you would be immune to his charm after he brought that dasher to Bath.”

  Nerissa said, “I told you that I do not want Mrs. Howe mentioned in this house. I—” She halted herself as she saw a shadow moving on the upper floor. “Cole!”

  She ran up the steps to embrace her brother. When he drew quickly away, she recalled how he disliked such shows of affection.

  “It is grand to see you again, Nerissa,” he said.

  “I was thinking much the same.” She laughed lightly. “Let me look at you! It seems as if it has been an eternity since I last saw you.”

  London had created little outward change in her
brother. As she had seen him so often when he rose in the morning or after hours of working in his book room, his shirtends hung out of his breeches, and his stockings belonged to two parishes, for one was a creamy white and the other a nubby brown. The only alteration might be a few extra pounds he had added while away.

  “I have so many things to tell you, and you must have even more to tell me,” she went on. “But you first. How did your trip go?”

  “Instead of me telling you, let me show you,” he said with a grin.

  “Show me what?”

  “My backers.” His grin stretched his full face.

  “You have backers?” She gripped his arm. “That is wonderful!”

  He led the way down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Nerissa arched an eyebrow at Frye, who was watching in disbelief. Neither of them had ever seen her brother so animated. His journey clearly had been a success. She was glad she had not signed the papers for Hill’s End.

  Opening the door to the parlor, which she had not noticed was closed, he called, “Hadfield, did you bring that brandy to toast our return?”

  Nerissa tensed. She had forgotten that when Cole came back to Bath, Hadfield would also. This was sure to signify a return to his disruptive tales and troublesome ways belowstairs.

  Hadfield was not the only person in the parlor. Two people were standing by the hearth, warming themselves after the long trip from Town. They had their backs to her. The man was as broad-shouldered as Hamilton, but his body was thick with age. Grey tinted his hair which was cut stylish to brush the nape of his high collar. His stylish rust-colored coat was covered with the dust that dimmed the polish of his boots. The golden-haired woman’s dark green spenser was frosted with dirt. When the door to the street opened to reveal two lads bringing in a heavy trunk and a portmanteau, she was shocked that Cole’s backers must be staying with them.

  Why had he failed to tell her that? She had expected that they would find suitable lodgings at the Sydney Hotel at the end of Great Pulteney Street. Glancing back into the foyer, she motioned to a serving lass. She whispered hurried instructions to have Mrs. Carroll have two rooms.… Were their guests husband and wife? No matter. It was better to have two rooms freshened and prepared for Mr. Pilcher’s friends. With a curtsy, the lass rushed to obey.

 

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