Secrets of a Gentleman Escort

by Bronwyn Scott

  She looked up the moment he entered the room. She looked fresh, dressed in white, her hair in a neat chignon at her neck. Even the July heat could not cause her to wilt. He should have changed, should have washed off at the pump. He would look dirty to her. Her eyes met his, betraying her nerves. She wasn’t sure of the reception he might give her. She understood how bold this unannounced arrival was.

  ‘Annorah, you’re here.’ Nick stepped forwards, taking her hand and raising it to his lips like he had that first day at Hartshaven. ‘You’ve met everyone. Stefan is already out singing your praises.’

  ‘You should have told us she was coming, but it’s a delightful surprise,’ his mother interjected. ‘We’ve been waiting for you to say something, Nick.’ She turned to Annorah. ‘We read about it in The Times—we get a subscription you know. But we wanted Nick to tell us in his way, when he was ready.’ She beamed at them. ‘And now he has.’

  Annorah merely smiled and flashed him a look. He needed to get Annorah alone before she and his mother started naming their first-born. ‘Mother, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like Annorah to myself for a moment.’

  ‘Of course, I’ll go and see about something cold to drink.’

  Nicholas shut the door behind her and faced Annorah. She was so beautiful, all he wanted to do was look at her. How had he survived three weeks without the sight of her? Her eyes sparkled in earnestness and Nick knew what she would say before she spoke. They would be the words he longed to hear, giving him absolution, giving him the future he’d thought was out of reach, a chance to marry, to have a family. His very own fairy tale. But happy ever afters didn’t happen to him. That’s when he knew he had to refuse whatever it was she was going to offer. ‘So, Annorah, what brings you to Stour?’

  ‘That’s not exactly the welcome a woman wants to hear.’ Annorah smiled, gathering her courage and overlooking the chilly welcome. Even hot and sweaty and dirty he was a sight to behold. She took out the envelope. ‘I came for you, Nick. You won’t take my money, but maybe you’ll take me.’

  ‘Stop, Annorah.’

  But she would not relent, not on this—it was far too important for both of them. ‘I’ve heard the worst. I know your secrets and it’s not enough to drive me away. I’ve had time to think and my conclusion is that you take too much on yourself. What happened was unfortunate, but it wasn’t your fault. You can’t keep punishing yourself.’

  Annorah reached for his hands. ‘What could you have done? Run fast enough to do what? To catch the tree? To stop it from falling? To hold back the lightning itself?’

  ‘I’ve always wondered if I should have moved Stefan that night. If by doing so I caused worse damage to him. All I could think of was getting him out of there in case the rest of the roof went, or a horse got loose and trampled him.’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself. You did all you could in those moments.’ She wanted to free him, wanted to give him absolution. This was the place he went when he withdrew from her, this haunted place full of half-formed memories and doubts.

  ‘You don’t know, you weren’t there,’ he began to protest. She would not have it. She knew all too well how this defence mechanism worked to let people stay shrouded in their grief.

  ‘You’re right. I wasn’t there. But I was somewhere similar. Look at me, Nicholas.’ She stared at him until he was forced to look up. ‘When my parents died from the fever, I wanted to die, too. My whole life had been taken from me. I was angry with my mother for having gone down to nurse the sick, angry with my father for letting himself go, and I was angry with myself for not getting sick and dying, too. Why me? Why did everyone around me get sick, but not me? I still don’t have that answer and I probably will never have it. The point is, you and I were spared. We get to carry on.’

  It was her turn to look down. ‘Can I make a confession, too?’ This got his attention. She swallowed and met his gaze. ‘Until I met you, I hadn’t done a very good job of carrying on. I’d convinced myself it was enough to just survive. But you’ve shown me it’s not, not even close to enough.’ She paused and gathered her courage. ‘I went to London to find you and when you weren’t there, I came here not just to make sure you took the money.’

  ‘Then why did you come?’ Nicholas’s voice dripped like thick honey in the autumn, his eyes dark with desire. Damn him, he was going to make her risk it all on a single throw of the dice.

  ‘I came for you. I want you, Nicholas D’Arcy, but you have to want me, too. I can’t be like those women in your past. I don’t want to have only your body. I need to have your mind and your heart because those are the things I love about you most. Can I, Nicholas? Can I have those things?’

  ‘Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said? Haven’t you looked around here?’ Nicholas began to pace. ‘I have a family to support: a mother, two sisters and a crippled brother. You’ve met them. They will always need me. And scandal will always follow me, I fear.’ These were paper dragons indeed. He was vacillating. He wanted to accept. He wanted to be selfish and take all that she was offering. It wasn’t about the money, it was about her. He wanted her. She could have been poor and he’d have still wanted her.

  Annorah rose and met him toe to toe, her eyes fiery emeralds. ‘I was listening, but were you? I don’t care about a title and money. I have all the money we’ll ever need and in the end it’s all ours anyway. You can build your brother a whole hospital if you want, but from what I’ve seen, he doesn’t need that. And you’re wrong. You can give me something. You have a family. I would love to have a family again. I will gladly share yours with you at your home or at Hartshaven if you want to bring them. All I need to know is the answer to my question. Can I have you, body and soul, Nicholas D’Arcy?’

  Annorah held her breath, every fibre of her being tingling and alert. She felt alive, something she’d not thought to feel six weeks ago when all this had begun. Back then, she’d thought she’d only had a month to live, really live. Now, the possibility of a lifetime loomed before her. She watched his face, searching for signs. It started in his eyes. They began to crinkle, the blue depths firing with a spark, then his mouth, his kissable mouth, turned up into his trademark smile, the one that warmed her to her toes.

  ‘Why, Miss Price-Ellis,’ he drawled, ‘is this a proposal or a business proposition?’

  She smiled, relief pumping through her. He had saved her— not the fortune, not Hartshaven, but her. ‘Neither, Nicholas. This is forever.’

  ‘Then I accept.’ He grinned and drew her to him.

  Epilogue

  The wedding was small, held at Nicholas’s parish church, attended by family and a few close friends of the D’Arcys. There were fresh flowers and pretty dresses for Nick’s sisters and the bride. It was a simple affair because, as Annorah was fond of noting, love was simple when one got right down to it.

  The sensationalism of it in London was far larger than the actual ceremony itself. No one could believe Nick D’Arcy had actually wed, and to an heiress to boot! Jocelyn Eisley wrote an entirely inappropriate poem to commemorate the event and Grahame Westmore led the boys of the league in a toast to Nick’s good health in the drawing room of Argosy House.

  Everyone wished Nick happiness in his new life. Well, almost everyone. Lord Burroughs certainly didn’t. He remained staunchly determined to seek revenge, a revenge that was turned more towards the rumours of the existence of a League of Discreet Gentlemen of which Nick was supposed to be a part. But these worries and well-wishers were far from Nick’s mind as he lay with his bride up in the hills in a cave above the Stour River specially appointed for their wedding night.

  It was one of the caves he and Stefan had explored in their youth. He’d gone to great lengths to have it fitted out with the splendour of a bridal suite. There was food and champagne, fire and flowers and a soft bed. Annorah had loved it on sight. Fishing rods were prop
ped against the wall. They would spend a few days up here, exploring the caves and fishing in the river. But all that could wait. Right now, he wanted to make love to his bride and revel in the knowledge that she was his.

  He got out of bed to pour more champagne, feeling Annorah’s eyes follow him across the space, then they moved past him. He’d lost her attention. He turned to follow her gaze. ‘What are you looking at so intently?’ he joked. ‘Besides me, that is.’

  ‘That crack at the back of the cave,’ she said, missing his humour entirely. ‘It doesn’t look like the rest of the room.’ She was out of bed, wrapping a sheet about her and picking up a lamp. ‘I don’t think one would notice it in the daylight without the variance in light to show the differential.’

  ‘We can explore tomorrow. Come back to bed.’ Nick laughed, but Annorah was determined.

  She set down the lamp and began feeling along the seam. He had no choice but to join her. When Annorah had her mind set on something, she didn’t relent. He was proof enough of that and gladly so. She hadn’t given up on him. He would be forever thankful she hadn’t.

  Together they pulled and tugged, prying the seam loose. She was right. This crack was artificially made. Someone had cut into the stone, making a crude door of sorts, which meant there would be a hollow space behind it. Nick gave a final tug and the crack crumbled away to reveal a space and his heart leapt with excitement.

  ‘You look like a schoolboy.’ Annorah laughed.

  Nick looked down at himself. ‘A rather well-endowed schoolboy, I would hope.’

  ‘What do you think is in here?’ She was excited, too. He could hear it in her voice. They were down on their knees and Annorah cast the lamplight over the opening.

  Nick reached in a hand, coming into contact with soft, worn leather. ‘I’ve got something!’ He pulled out a sack. It had weight to it. He fumbled with the string around the neck of the bag.

  ‘Do you think it’s...?’ Annorah didn’t finish her sentence. He poured the contents into her cupped hands, gold coins spilling on to the floor.

  ‘The gold,’ Nicholas finished for her. ‘The pirate’s gold, the Jacobite treasure, the king’s ransom, whatever you want to call it.’ He reached in for the other bags, thirteen in all. ‘I can’t believe after all these years it was here all along. Stefan and I must have explored this cave a hundred times.

  Annorah laughed. ‘You just needed to see it with new eyes. Shall we tell them? It’s not too late in the evening to ride down with the news.’

  Nick looked at her with mock seriousness and then down at himself, drawing her gaze with him. ‘Yes, it is, far too late.’ He was fully aroused, not by the sight of the money, but by the sight of his wife dressed in a bedsheet, the lamplight shining in strategic places. ‘The treasure will keep, but I’m not sure I will.’ Then he whispered the three words he knew she loved to hear. ‘Come to bed.’ And she did.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781472043467

  SECRETS OF A GENTLEMAN ESCORT

  © Nikki Poppen 2014

  First Published in Great Britain in 2014

  Harlequin (UK) Limited

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