An overwhelming sense of loss washed over him as he wandered into the depths of Prior Park’s forest. The chance to repair the shattered relationship with his father and mother had likely slipped away forever with the dawning of this latest rumor.
Hell, his father hadn’t even paused to question whether it was true.
“What? What? You’ve ruined another young lady?” he had shouted, his voice echoing throughout the townhouse. “What madness is this?” He heaved a deep breath that did nothing to drain the puce color flushing his cheeks. “My own flesh and blood has soiled yet another of England’s precious flowers? What madness is this?” he repeated through a tightening wheeze.
Nathan had rushed forward to help his father when the old codger had started to choke on a fit of thick coughs.
Edward held his ground, his cool gaze fixed on the Marquess and his awful struggles for breath. “I believe my brother is trying to deflect blame by concocting this tale about my careless involvement with an actress,” he said in an emotionless voice that sent a chill sailing straight through Nathan.
“Never again—” the Marquess had started to say before another fit of sharp coughs hit him. Nathan pounded on his father’s broad back several times to help clear his chest.
“Leave me,” the Marquess whispered once he’d regained the barest strength necessary for speech. He swallowed hard. “Do not come back unless sent for. If I learn these rumors are indeed true, boy, I will take up a horsewhip against you.”
* * * * *
Although Iona desperately wanted to seek out Nathan and warn him about what she’d overheard in the milliner’s shop, the best she’d been able to do was to dash off a brief note to his apartment. She tossed a handful of breadcrumbs to the birds and assured herself that it was beyond foolish to attempt to meet with him today when all of Bath seemed to be waiting breathlessly to ferret out her identity.
The grounds at Prior Park were impressive. At the top of a large hill, the main house, an impressive imitation of a Palladian villa, stood watch. Iona strolled through the fields and gardens with her sister and Amelia. Lillian kept the conversation on the upcoming Victory Gala. She was ever so excited about the ribbons and fluff she’d purchased that morning. And Amelia had been busy speculating on whether the fireworks display would be as grand as those seen in London’s Vauxhall.
Iona had silently listened, nodding at the appropriate intervals but not really paying close attention.
“What’s this?” A note of excitement added extra volume to Lillian’s voice. “Do you think they are coming to talk with us?”
Iona’s head snapped up from the pond. She spotted three gentlemen leading their mounts toward them. Lord Grainger’s long legs seemed to carry him toward Iona with supernatural speed. His dappled gray mare followed behind him, her hooves clomping a heavy beat.
He tossed his mount’s reins to his friend and then bowed over Iona’s hand. A deeply furrowed brow had replaced the laughter she was used to seeing dancing in his eyes.
“Lord Grainger,” she said and dipped her head, hoping to shield a heated rush of embarrassment within the brim of her bonnet as she remembered the shameful way he’d acted toward her last evening at Goldsmith’s. “What-what a surprise it is to see you this afternoon.”
“I have an urgent need to speak with you in private,” he said barely loud enough for even her ears to hear. His hand tightened around hers. “You will stroll with me?”
Her first thought was to refuse and turn away. Yet she couldn’t, not when there was a chance he might blurt out that he’d seen her with Nathan last evening. He could easily ruin both her and Nathan’s reputations with a swipe of his tongue.
So while Lord Grainger’s beaus were busily paying court to Lillian and Amelia, who were both practicing their coquettish glances and sly smiles on the pair of unsuspecting gentlemen, Iona set her hand on Lord Grainger’s arm and strolled with him down a stone path that led into a heavily shaded wood. After passing under a canopy of a thick grouping of beech trees, she withdrew her hand from his arm.
They were far enough away from the group that there could be no possibility of being overheard. She wasn’t about to allow him to lead her so deeply into the woods that they would completely disappear from view.
“Yes, Lord Grainger. What do you wish to tell me?” she asked, making sure she sounded baffled that he could have anything of import to tell her.
“There is much about gossip that must not be believed,” he said. “Do you not agree?”
She tilted her head slightly. “I rarely pay attention to the empty chatter of bored society ladies.”
“That is good to hear.” He chewed his bottom lip. A question brushed past his brow as he threaded her fingers through his. “I will not pretend to understand what is going on in that confounding head of yours, Iona. But since I still hold you in high regard, I will provide you with a bit of undeserved advice. You will do well to pay attention to your fickle heart and not your ears these next few weeks. Be brave and stay strong. For I’m afraid, things will soon become most difficult for you.”
She held her ground when he again tried to lead her deeper into the forest. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, but I do suggest you leave the wearing of pantaloons and mustaches to the men.”
“I would thank you, sir, to watch what you say. What you are suggesting is…” A hot blush rose up her cheeks as she jerked her hand from his grasp. “Is most ludicrous. I would never—”
“Lady Iona!” Lord Grainger shouted and seemed to immediately regret his outburst. He gave a nervous glance toward his friends and Lillian and Amelia. They were all laughing at something the shy Amelia had said. Lord Grainger cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Wynter is waiting to speak with you at the end of this trail.”
“He is?” she whispered.
With Lord Grainger standing guard at the trailhead, she hurried down the darkened path. A summer gust tripped through the trees overhead, the leaves whispering secrets of love and passion.
Each step brought her closer to Nathan. She fisted her skirt’s fabric, raising the hem by several inches to give her legs the freedom to trot over the roots pushing out on the long-forgotten trail. She ran blindly, trusting that Nathan would be waiting for her, stopping only when she rushed out into a small fairy circle. Beams of golden sunlight filled the grassy space.
She turned around fully before her eyes fell on him.
Shrouded in the shadows, Nathan had one booted foot kicked back, his toes propped against the white trunk of a beech tree. His arms were crossed and a look of satisfaction was snug upon his mouth, a mouth Iona felt fairly certain she shouldn’t be noticing with such breathless anticipation. She licked her lips while thinking of succulent fruits.
Again he had dressed with a rogue’s flair. His dove-colored pantaloons were scandalously tight—another thing she definitely should not be noticing. And his hat had been discarded on the carpet of grass.
He held a single violet blue periwinkle, a friendship bloom, in his leather-gloved hand with the same care he’d hold a fragile piece of crystal.
Her skirt slipped from her fingers. Being with him made her feel uncommonly safe.
Nathan raised a brow. A curious smile creased those kissable lips of his. “Your ankles are as lovely as the rest of you, Iona,” he said. “But then again, I already knew that.”
His teasing voice suddenly made her very aware of her body and how it was rejoicing at the sight of him. Even her skin seemed to tingle in delight.
How he could conjure a playful emotion when they were living on the edge of what promised to explode into a disaster, she could not fathom.
“You have heard what people are saying about us?” she asked.
He gave a nod. “Vicious scoundrels, do you not agree? Scurrying around with their noses to the ground in search of the next juicy morsel.” He shrugged it away as if it meant nothing to him. “And I also received your frantic note. That is why I
arranged this meeting.”
He pushed away from the tree and crossed the distance between them. “It is kind of you to worry about my family’s reaction, but unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?” Guilt flooded her veins. She was the one who had pressed him into following her in this quest for independence. He hadn’t wanted to help her and had warned her to return to the bosom of her family at every turn. “If not for me and my romp through Goldsmith’s last night, your name may not have been bandied around the Pump Room with such vigor this morning. I am completely to blame and I find it insufferable that your family might—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Do not worry about what my family might think. In fact, this turn of events might eventually help repair the deep and painful rift that has formed between my father and me.”
“But I—” she tried to take the blame even though his warm finger was still pressed up against her plump lips.
“Scandal follows me around quite doggedly, I’m afraid. If not you, those tabbies would have found some other story to attach to my name.” He drew his hand away. “They could have chosen to talk about a certain actress who is raising a bastard son with my likeness…or a certain widow who arrived in Bath with as much pomp as a member of the royal family.”
His plain speaking wounded her deeply. It sounded shockingly like an admission of guilt.
The rumors about her were true. Why not believe society’s whispers about him?
Still, in her heart, she found it impossible to accept that he would be able to take her to his bed and make love to her with such passion while also seeking the attentions of a voluptuous actress or while writing love notes, entreating a former mistress to join him in Bath.
“It cannot be true,” she said, remembering Lord Grainger’s advice to listen to her heart and not her ears. “We must join forces. If you would but tell me the truth of things, I will enlist my friends to refute what is being said about you.”
“You mustn’t do anything of the sort,” he said quickly, “not unless you are prepared to have me formally declare my intentions of marrying you.”
“No! Don’t even jest about such a thing!” How could he still think to take such a damning course of action? Hadn’t she made herself solidly clear that she didn’t want to have anything to do with marriage—to him or anyone else? “I only wish to help you mend your relationship with your family, not rip away your freedom, or mine. I’ll discreetly spread word regarding the truth of your character among some of the most influential society ladies. I am your friend. Let me do this for you.”
“Friendship isn’t enough,” he spat out. “After last night, I can never call you merely my friend.”
“Nothing has to change. My feelings for you are the same.” Why was he being so difficult?
“You came to my bed. You became my lover, Iona.”
She pressed her palms to her searing cheeks. A part of her wanted to run into his arms and live for the moment. Forget about the future. Forget about what may be and what could have been.
“Tell me you don’t feel the same about me,” he demanded.
She loved him. But admitting her love would only fuel his resolve for them to marry. And marriage didn’t fit into her plans for the future… It couldn’t. She’d seen how her mother and the other ladies of the ton had given up their aspirations and dreams in order to fit the mold their husbands deemed appropriate.
If she had to do the same with Nathan, her feelings of love would soon be pushed aside by a deep-seated sense of resentment and sadness.
“You are simply my friend.”
“Liar.”
“Whether you accept my friendship or not, it doesn’t matter one whit. I’m giving it to you,” she said to prove that she could be just as hardheaded as he was acting. “I’m going to do whatever is necessary to help restore your reputation.”
His expression hardened. “To talk about me with anyone will only jeopardize your good name. I won’t allow it.”
“You have no choice,” she said, wringing her hands in earnest. She couldn’t understand why he was being so stubborn, so protective. “Why should you have to bear the brunt of these lies alone?”
“Because they aren’t lies.”
He may as well have slapped her.
“Mrs. Jane Sharpes, my mistress,” he continued without sparing her a drop of mercy, “did indeed arrive in Bath this morning and I did spend several hours alone with her in her private chambers.”
Tears sprang to sting Iona’s eyes. “No.” She spun away from him. “You lie.”
He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Why in blazes would I lie to you about this? What benefit would it serve me?”
She swiped away the tears with the back of her gloved hand. “I don’t know! I really don’t know! Why are you doing this to me?”
His grip on her arm tightened. “You knew when we began this game that I was naught but a rogue. That is why you sought me out in the first place, remember?”
“No…” It wasn’t true. He was lying, even to himself perhaps. “There is much more to you than a careless—”
“You have played a dangerous game, Iona.” His gaze pressed down on her. “I am the wolf in the woods, lying in wait and looking for a tasty prey to come my way. You know from last night’s experience that I’m more than willing to take full advantage when an opportunity presents itself.”
“I cannot listen to this. I don’t understand why you’re saying these things. We should be working together,” she insisted rather frantically. “You need me.”
“I need you as a champion? A wide-eyed innocent?” He gave a deep sigh. His hard expression softened a degree. “You won’t marry me and I won’t take you as my mistress. Which leaves nothing else. I don’t need you, Iona.” He tipped up her chin. The anger in his expression faded. “I do want you to understand one thing. No matter what happens, I won’t ever abandon you to the whims of the ton. Your reputation is safe. I vow it. No matter what anyone says. Even if someone admits to having seen you at Goldsmith’s, I will make certain he is ignored. Although you dishonor our relationship by calling it merely a friendship, it is more. In honor of what happened last night and of what we had together, I will protect you. Go back to your world now. Our lessons have come to an end. Our secret adventures are over. You understand that?”
She nodded.
“And you mustn’t do anything rash, thinking you are helping me. I assure you, ruining your reputation will do nothing to help mine.”
She blinked back the river of tears waiting to fall and swallowed hard. “So you intend to spend your time with Mrs. Sharpes?”
“Yes.”
His cold reply slapped her. She twisted out of his grasp and fled back toward the forest trail. She couldn’t stay, not while her heart was splintering.
Why was he saying these things? Why wasn’t he holding her and patting her hair and whispering how he would protect her while painting her lips with his kisses?
“Iona…” he called after her.
The bounder!
She looked down and saw the periwinkle bloom tucked between her tight fist. He must have slipped it into her fingers without her noticing. She tossed the friendship blossom to the ground and, crying in earnest, stomped it to pieces.
Chapter Fourteen
The flutter of Iona’s retreating skirt was still visible through the crush of trees. Nathan sighed. He hoped he’d done the right thing with her.
He knew her well enough to know that it would have been a disaster to press her. For some unfathomable reason, her mind was set against marriage in any form—even after the passion they had shared last night. She seemed to view the institution as restrictive as a life sentence at Newgate. So instead of confirming her fears by autocratically informing her that he intended to pay a visit to her father, he told her the bitter truth about himself.
Her emotional reaction to his rejection underscored the one thing she repeatedly tried to deny—she harbored ten
der feelings for him. Feelings that went deeper than friendship.
Feeling lower than a slug in the garden, he shook his head and scuffed his boot on the ground.
He hadn’t meant to be cruel. Her constant denial of her affections toward him pricked as sharply as a knife. He’d lashed out in anger.
Would she find it in her heart to forgive him?
Before he had the chance to dissect each and every word she had muttered and expression she’d made, a silky hand tickled his neck. Two long fingers tiptoed down his chest as a breathy orange-blossom-scented sigh tingled against his ear.
“Jane?” He was somewhat surprised she would seek him out in the depths of this bower. Trudging through tall grasses tended to drain Jane’s short supply of patience.
“Who was that emotional creature with you just now?” she asked. A laugh twittered in her voice. “I believe she was on the verge of striking you.”
He almost wished she had.
With a sigh, he gently removed Jane’s arm from his chest. “She is none of your concern,” he said, stiffening. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Your man, Freddie, told me the where of things…though not the why.” She circled him until they were standing toe-to-toe. Their bodies nearly touching, she caressed his arm. “You are behaving ever so difficult, pet. You haven’t even kissed me.”
“You should have sent a note of warning before making this trip to Bath,” he said. “I would have informed you that I don’t have the time for you today…or anytime soon for that matter. There are too many complications crowding my life right now.”
“Is that what I am?” She grabbed his hands and pulled them around her slender waist. “A complication?”
“Not a complication, Jane.” She was far too demanding to be considered a mere complication.
“Good.” She tilted her head up and smiled. He was struck anew by her radiance. “It would be most distressing to learn that my future husband considered me troublesome.”
He tried to step out of her embrace but she held him tight. “I already told you this afternoon. I need time to consider your proposal. My father—”
Lady Iona's Rebellion Page 17
