* * *
It did run its course throughout the warm afternoon. There were cold ham sandwiches to eat, midsummer strawberries to pick and a few golden stolen moments to rest his head in Annorah’s lap and look up into her green eyes. Most of all, he did enjoy it just as he’d promised himself, right up to the point where they returned to the house, stepped into the hall and were met by Uncle Andrew with the ominous words, ‘As my niece’s fiancé, I think it’s time you and I had a talk. If you would step this way, Mr D’Arcy?’
Nicholas shot Annorah a quick look of reassurance, letting her know she had nothing to fear from this interaction. As for himself, he could only cling to the old adage forewarned was forearmed.
* * *
Good God, the girl was rich! Nicholas’s head was reeling from the figures her uncle had tossed around when he emerged from the study two hours later with barely enough time to change for dinner.
After seeing the numbers, it was no wonder her coming out had been plagued with disappointments. It wasn’t a gentleman’s fortune, to be sure. It was a fortune earned in trade and through investment, a dirty fortune in the eyes of the ton, perhaps. Then again, when there was enough of it perhaps it didn’t matter as much where a woman’s fortune came from. It hardly matters to you if it came from mucking manure. You aren’t really her fiancé. You won’t see a penny of it, came the cold reminder from his conscience. You have your two thousand pounds and you’ll be thankful for it.
‘How’s the old father-in-law?’ Westmore stepped out of the shadows at the top of the landing. ‘The two of you were closeted away for quite some time. There’s only one reason for that. Settlements.’
‘It’s the natural course of things,’ Nicholas said slowly, trying to assess what Westmore wanted. ‘How is it going for you? Anyone catch your eye?’ He opted for the old trick of deflection—more about Westmore, less about himself.’
‘Maybe.’ Westmore was vague and the trick didn’t work. ‘I’m worried about you. Deveril didn’t send me to keep an eye on you, but I’m glad I’m here to do it.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about. I have it all under control,’ Nicholas said in a low voice. It would all be under a little less control if they were overheard in the hall.
‘No, you don’t. You’ve got pound notes dancing in your eyes. You’re starting to think you could kiss it out of her and make the ruse real.’
‘That is ridiculous. I’ve squired around plenty of wealthy women and never once has that thought crossed my mind,’ Nicholas growled.
Westmore merely chuckled. ‘Most of them have been married. You’ve never liked one of them as much as you like her. I admit, your Miss Price-Ellis is quite lovely and fresh. She’s not one of your London jades. That freshness can be appealing, especially when you know you were her first. I bet you’re feeling protective and honourable right about now, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.’
‘You can stop right there.’ The man was a damned mind reader, certainly about the latter. He did want to protect Annorah. She was strong in her own right, but he didn’t want her to have to be strong on her own, not when he could stand beside her.
As for the former, he didn’t want to confess to any feelings about the money. He’d rather not have known the specifics. It was one thing to know vaguely that she was wealthy. That had always been a known factor. To know exactly how wealthy did change things. It was impossible for it not to. But not in the way Westmore thought. The money didn’t draw him. It pushed him away. There’d been moments when he’d thought she needed him as more than a man in her bed. He’d begun to believe he had more to offer her than his prick. The settlements, seeing that enormous mass of money, reminded him he did not.
Nicholas pushed past Westmore. He wished the subject of money had never been brought up, which, when one thought about it, was a very odd wish indeed for a poor man with debts to pay and a family to feed, a certain sign of just how upside down his world had become.
Chapter Eighteen
The world had gone crazy and Annorah was doing a poor job of distracting herself from that fact. She was supposed to be getting dressed for dinner, but all she could manage was pacing the length of her room and wondering about Nicholas and the money. What would he think of it all? Would he be angry that she hadn’t offered him more once he saw all the wealth laid before him? Or would he be too dazzled? Would the money lead him astray? Would it tempt him into offering to make the engagement real? She feared the idea. She wanted him to be different.
Annorah picked up the brush from her vanity and began to comb through her hair, vetting it for any errant leaves or twigs from the picnic. She brushed with vigour as if hard strokes could banish the uncomfortable thoughts from her mind. How could she want him to be different? She didn’t know him, not really, and she couldn’t know him. The money would always get in the way, it already had. It was tempting even her. Perhaps she could use it to persuade him to make the engagement real.
Was that what she wanted? Marriage to an illusion of a man? Was the man she saw each day really Nicholas or a façade? Had she fallen in love with a man who was nothing more than an illusion created for her pleasure or had she fallen for the man himself? She didn’t know what was worse: loving an illusion of someone who never was or loving something that could never be. With Nicholas it was hard to tell.
And yet, on the hill today, she’d felt there’d been moments that he’d been as real as he had with the children in the village, as he’d been at the summer house; that his regard was genuine, and that his concern for her outpaced the promise of her pounds. Annorah put down the brush and rang for Lily, desperate to get away from her thoughts. Hiring Nicholas was supposed to have been easy. It was supposed to have solved her problems and curiosities while avoiding all the complications of a real relationship; there’d be no doubt over money, there’d be no emotional attachments because it was all temporary. It was just supposed to be about sex. And it had been, until it wasn’t. She was no longer sure when that point had been reached, only that it had been passed.
She dressed carefully with Lily’s help, selecting an aquamarine chiffon that was all summer and light. She let Lily put up her hair, threading a strand of pearls through the artfully twisted tresses. She would need her strength to face Nicholas regardless of the outcome of her uncle’s talk.
He was waiting for her in the hall before entering the drawing room as he’d done the previous night, but guests, female guests, were too impatient to wait for his appearance there so they’d joined him out here. He looked up at her with a winning smile and Redding’s words stabbed at her heart. To have him would never be enough if he didn’t want her, too. Rich women could always have a trophy. It was the reason she hadn’t married before now, the very principle that lay at the heart of the current situation. She had never wanted the trophy any more than she’d wanted to be someone else’s trophy, a thing no more meaningful to them than a silver cup displayed on a shelf, taken down and shown off on occasion.
She slid on to his arm, acutely aware any woman in the little circle would take her place if they could. Tonight she would show them they couldn’t and maybe she’d show Nicholas he wouldn’t want them to for reasons that had nothing to do with the pounds attached to her name, even if it was an exercise in futility.
* * *
This was most interesting. From his end of the table, Nicholas watched Annorah dazzle the gentleman to her right. Couples had all been split up tonight for the seating chart at dinner. While it gave him a respite from her aunt’s wandering hands, it also took him away from Annorah. Still, it was enlightening to watch her at a distance. She was much changed from the woman who’d met him in the hall of her home with hands clasped nervously at her waist. The change was for the better. Then, he’d thought her quietly pretty. Tonight, she positively sparkled. Some of that sparkle was literal; she wore tiny diam
onds at her ears, nothing as big as what a London ball required, but not too ostentatious for the country either. A matching bracelet at her wrist gave off fiery sparks in the candlelight. He could catch the faintest trill of her laughter and every once in a while he would catch her eye. It was tantalising and he had the vague idea she was flirting with him in this long-distance fashion of hers. It must be working because he was more than slightly aroused and a great many of his thoughts revolved around getting her to bed by the time cheese and fruit was served.
She caught his eye as she plucked a strawberry from the tray and bit into, licking the juice from her lips with a quick flick of her tongue. That did it. He was rock hard and racing through potential excuses for departing the company early when the women rose to leave the gentlemen.
Nicholas smiled. He had his plan. He’d feign a headache after a few sips of port and make his escape. She would note he was missing from the group when the gentlemen rejoined the ladies and she would come to him. Actually, that was the best part of the plan. She wouldn’t have to.
* * *
Nicholas was waiting for her when Annorah came up an hour later. Not just waiting, but on-her-bed waiting, his banyan loose about him. He wouldn’t give her the chance to go back on the implicit promises she’d been making over dinner. She wanted him for dessert? Very well, she was going to have him.
She jumped a little at the sight of him and he laughed. ‘Were you expecting someone else?’
‘No, of course not.’ Annorah shut the door behind her and locked it. ‘Anyone could have walked in here and seen you!’
‘But why? This is your room. Only you should have been walking in here.’ Nicholas chuckled. He got off the bed to help her with the buttons on the back of her dress. He nuzzled her neck. ‘I’ve missed this.’ He had. It was absolutely true. He’d not liked being parted from her last night, one more errant feeling in his world turned topsy-turvy. She smelled of lemons, tangy and sweet all at once, eternal summer. He would not be able to smell lemons again without thinking of her. Westmore would laugh at him for such sentimentality. But Westmore would be sleeping alone tonight.
He pushed the dress down, undergarments following suit as his eyes feasted on the expanse of bare back. ‘Come lie down. I have a surprise for you,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse. He’d meant to seduce her with his hands. Now, he wondered if he would last long enough to do it. ‘On your stomach, Annorah, I want your back.’
He straddled her then, rising up to remove his banyan. He pulled a vial from its pocket and pulled out the tiny stopper. The scent of lavender and thyme filled the air around them. ‘Breathe deep, Annorah. Lavender is for relaxing.’
She wiggled beneath him while he poured oil into his hands, her buttocks brushing against his sac. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I am warming the oil.’ Nicholas blew on the liquid pooled in his hands.
‘Oil? What for?’ She tried to roll over, but Nicholas held her firmly between his thighs.
‘Have you ever had a massage?’ He began to rub, starting at her shoulders, relishing the feel of her skin, supple and firm beneath his hands.
‘No.’ Annorah laughed. ‘Aside from our treasure hunt, where do you think I would have encountered such a decadent experience?’
‘Decadent? Good, then I must be doing it right.’ He swept his hand down to the small of her back, kneading the muscles there. Her muscles were tight, a sign of the strain the house party had put her under. ‘According to eastern practices, a massage has both medicinal and sensual purposes.’ He leaned forwards to reach her ear. ‘I prefer the sensual.’ His phallus was at full mast now, proof that a massage could be just as arousing for the giver as the receiver.
He cupped her buttocks, sliding down to kiss each one before moving on to massage her legs.
‘Mmm, this is nice,’ Annorah murmured. As if on cue, she rolled over and reached for him, drawing him over her. He settled between her legs. The massage had done its work. She was relaxed and ready for him. They could take their time with this joining. For tonight, that was what he preferred—a long leisurely goodbye, one that would imprint itself on his memory.
He kissed her and moved into position, but she halted him with her eyes. ‘Perhaps we should talk about this afternoon first? I meant to ask you in the hall before dinner, but we were surrounded by so many of your admirers.’
‘It was an eye opener. I understand better now what you were up against. You’re no mere heiress.’ He’d been overwhelmed by what was to be conferred upon her husband after marriage. But more than that, he’d been overwhelmed by what that must have meant for her as a young woman coming out. She would have been hounded by people seeking her hand for the purpose of accessing her fortune. His heart had gone out to her. He just couldn’t be that man.
‘Do you see now why I have to be the one to pick my husband?’
Nicholas nodded. Her aunt would pick a suitor who would be happy to funnel the funds her direction as a thank you for putting a rich wife in his path. If Annorah chose, she could negotiate that privately before the husband even saw the settlements, as she’d done with him.
‘Good.’ Annorah shifted beneath him, raising up on her elbows and staring him in the eye, all seriousness. ‘Now that you understand, I want to ask you something else.’
Nick held his breath, not liking where the conversation was headed. ‘You can ask me anything.’ But that wasn’t true. There were at least three or four things he didn’t want to answer.
‘Is it always like this? This thing between you and me? This passion, this pleasure, this craving like I’ll never get enough?’
That was one of them. He definitely didn’t want to answer that, but he wouldn’t lie. He shook his head. ‘No, it’s not.’ He paused to gather his thoughts. ‘I suppose it’s usually fun, but how do I explain it? The layers aren’t always there.’ He rolled to his side. His erection was going to have to wait for satisfaction. ‘If you’re asking me how it is with other clients...’ he winced, hating the use of the word. Annorah was so much more than a client ‘...it’s not like this. And I don’t think it would necessarily be like this for you with someone else, if that’s what you want to know.’ He hated thinking of her with another.
‘Thank you, Nick,’ Annorah said softly. She levered up to look at him, a finger drawing circles on his chest. ‘Did you think about making the engagement real today after you saw all the money? Because I did.’
‘Oh, Annorah.’ This was another thing he didn’t want her to ask.
‘Why not?’ She warmed to her subject and Nicholas felt his heart sink. ‘You just said we suited one another in bed at least. You need the money and I think we could make each other happy if we tried. I have to marry someone, Nick, now or in a year. Why not you? You might be the best choice I’ve come across in fifteen years.’
Nicholas sat up, dislodging her hand. ‘No, Annorah. You don’t want to marry me. I promise you I’m not your best choice.’
She sat up, too, her hair falling forwards, her cheeks flushed with anger. He would not be making love to her tonight, he just knew it. ‘Tell me. Tell me why you are not my best choice?’
Nick got out of bed and shrugged into his banyan. He might as well put it on now. ‘What do you think will happen when we go to London? We can’t help but meet former clients and not all of them are nice, Annorah. They will be catty and someone will say to you, “I’ve been in bed with your husband”. Worse, they might even start unpleasant rumours. Rumours travel. Can you imagine the look on your vicar’s face? On Thomas’s face when the news reaches Hartshaven about what I really am? You will not think I’m the best choice for you then, Annorah.’
‘You should let me be the judge of that,’ Annorah said quietly, but it was clear he’d shocked her. He hated doing it, but it was what must be done to make her see reason.
‘That’s just
the start. There’s the money, too— rumours will spread I only married you for the wealth. After a while you might start to believe them. They’ll say I kissed it out of you, that all I had to offer you was my prick.’
She threw a pillow at him. ‘Don’t be crass. I hate it when you do that, when you think you’re nothing but a sex object. I can listen to all of your other arguments, but not that one. You’re a fine man, Nicholas D’Arcy. I wish you could see it, too.’
That humbled him. His hands stalled where they tied the sash of his banyan. She would think differently if she knew his secrets, of course. If she knew how one stormy night he’d failed his family, his father dead because of it, his brother paralysed. ‘I’ll honour our agreement, Annorah. Not because you’ve paid me, but because I want to. But that’s all. I can’t marry you.’
Her jaw set, stubborn and determined. ‘There’s more, isn’t there? It’s not just the money, or the scandal. Will you tell me?’
‘It would be better if you didn’t know.’ But Nick knew there would be no escaping it. The way to his freedom lay in the telling of the tale. She would either despise him and let him go because she could not bear to be associated with him, or she would accept him, flaws and all. The last was too great to hope for.
‘Let me be the judge, Nicholas,’ she whispered, reaching for his hands and drawing him to the edge of the bed. ‘What happened?’
Nicholas started to talk. He’d not told anyone, not even Channing, about that horrible night. ‘During a storm, lightning split a tree, a giant oak, near the stables. It came down and tore right through the stable roof. My father and Stefan were inside, trying to calm the horses down. The storm had set them off something terrible. I was just a minute behind them. When I arrived they were already inside. I saw the lightning strike the tree, I saw the tree split and I knew what was going to happen. It was all in slow motion like a bad dream. I ran and I shouted, but I didn’t run fast enough, didn’t shout loud enough. The tree went down, straight through the roof, and I couldn’t reach them.’
Secrets of a Gentleman Escort Page 17
