Carefully, he set his glass down and met Elizabeth’s mocking grin with one of his own. “All things in life are fleeting. You could have all the money in the world, not to mention titles, even beauty, but what does that buy you other than notoriety, things and attention...all of which have nothing to do with you, the person inside.”
“You have to strip those things away layer by layer, and then and only then will you find the person beneath.” A smile teased Salvatore’s lips. “I wonder what kind of person you are beneath that silk gown and those expensive jewels? Would you have the will and determination to make it in such a world, not to mention the talent?”
The hurt in Elizabeth’s eyes was obvious. The air was thick with tension, one could easily cut it with a knife. Nicolette glanced at Darian, as though she expected him to champion her. Darian remained silent, his brows furrowed in a frown, his disappointment in Elizabeth obvious.
Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. “Well, I am quite ready to return to the manor. I am in desperate need of a nap before tonight’s activities,” she said, her voice clipped and curt, her brow lifted high as she expected Darian to jump at her command. “Darian, we must go.” Elizabeth tried without success to mount the mare on her own. Finally she turned to him, her agitation obvious by her heightened color.
The picnic officially over, Nicolette put her stockings in her pockets, tied the laces of her boots together and mounted with no assistance.
Once they were all in their saddles again, silence ensued, giving Nicolette time to think over Elizabeth’s venomous words. She was jealous, that was all. To the duke’s daughter, Charlotte’s and her behavior must have been a shock. Nicolette had honestly enjoyed Charlotte’s brazen behavior, even reveled in it. The woman had already proven to be a wonderful friend, a person she could confide in, a woman who would not judge her.
Like Nicolette, Charlotte rode barefoot. She watched the widow, noticed how she sat with back straight, her chest out. Nicolette mirrored Charlotte’s posture. From the corner of her eye she could feel Salvatore watching her.
“My lord! My lord!” The cry rang out over the fields.
A child ran toward them, arms waving wildly. His ratty clothes told her he was a servant or a beggar.
Salvatore dismounted and raced toward the boy. Nicolette was fast on his heels. “What is it?”
“Me father’s been hurt.”
“Where is he?”
“Over there, in the field. One minute he’s talkin’ away, and the next, he fell to ‘is knees. He’d been saying he did’na feel well, but he insisted on goin’ anyways.”
They followed the boy to where his father did indeed lay flat on his back. At first she thought the man was dead, for he stared straight up at the heavens.
Nicolette moved to the man’s opposite side and put her fingers to his neck. Feeling a steady pulse, she leaned down and felt his hot breath against her cheek. The man reeked of liquor.
“Drunk,” Nicolette mouthed to Salvatore who nodded. Salvatore put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You are very brave for seeking help for your father. We will get him home and see that he gets the care he needs. Where do you live?”
“E’s okay?” the boy asked, his brown eyes full of tears.
Salvatore smiled. “Yes, he’s okay.”
Relieved, the boy hugged Salvatore.
Salvatore hugged the boy tight to him. “Now if you would help us by getting your mother.”
“I can do that. We live just beyond the hill there.”
Nicolette watched with a lump in her throat as the boy grinned and raced for his house. What was it about Salvatore that he could reassure anyone?
“You have a gift with children, Salvatore,” Charlotte said, surprising Nicolette. The widow watched Salvatore with a soft smile on her face.
“Salvatore and I can lift him,” Darian said, coming up behind them, rolling up his sleeves.
“He is merely drunk,” Nicolette said, as Darian went down on his haunches beside her, so close his leg brushed against her skirt.
“What the—” The drunken man stammered, blinking repeatedly. Recognition dawned, his mouth dropped open, and he scrambled clumsily to his feet. “My lord, I didn’t know you...that you—”
“Do you make it a practice to work while you are drunk?” Darian asked, his face stern, his voice uncaring.
“I coulda walked,” the man said, stumbling back a few feet. “I didna need no help.” Hearing the wagon behind her, Nicolette turned just as the boy jumped from the wagon.
“Papa, you’re alright,” he said, his face splitting into a relieved smile.
The father said nothing. He just stared past the boy, to the woman who sat silently in the wagon, watching him with disapproval.
The boy was all but forgotten as the man passed by him and climbed into the wagon.
The boy looked so crestfallen, it broke Nicolette’s heart. “Thank you,” the man’s wife said, and without another word, turned the wagon about.
“Come on, boy,” the man roared, and Nicolette watched with a heavy heart as the boy ran for the wagon, but stopped short. He backtracked and hugged Salvatore.
Salvatore pressed something into the boy’s hand.
He opened his hand, palm up, displaying a shiny coin. “Thank you, sir!”
Salvatore ruffled the boy’s hair. “Now go, help your mother get your father into the house.”
“E’ll be okay?” Worry laced the boy’s words.
Salvatore smiled reassuringly. “Yes, he’ll be just fine.”
“I’d better go before they get angry,” the boy said, running after the wagon.
“Well that was disappointing,” Darian said, frowning at the wagon’s slow progress.
“More than likely it was a one-time occurrence,” Salvatore said, walking back to his horse.
“I doubt that,” Darian said, with a heavy sigh. “By the state of their clothing, it is obvious he spends his money on drink.”
“Perhaps that is why he drinks, because he can scarcely afford food and clothing for his family.” Salvatore’s voice was stern.
Darian turned, his brow lifted. “Salvatore, you sound so impassioned. Tell me, how do you know so much about a family you have only just met.”
Salvatore, already astride the horse with reins in hand, rested his forearms on his thighs. “The boy was truly concerned about his father. If his father was known to drink, the boy would be accustomed to the effects of alcohol, and he would not have been frantically yelling for help.”
“But the boy is a child.”
“It is amazing how fast one grows up when you are raised with so little.”
Darian’s lips quirked.
“I can still smell the filth.” Elizabeth went so far as to flinch. “How could you touch that boy’s hair, Salvatore? Who knows what type of vermin—”
“They are doing the best they know how,” Nicolette remarked, irritation lacing her words. “Surely you can’t begrudge them that.”
“Indeed, you cannot,” Charlotte added.
Elizabeth lifted her chin. “I meant no disrespect to you or Salvatore. I realize you came from...similar conditions.”
In a flash, Salvatore yanked the reins from Elizabeth’s hands and pulled the horse closer. “You have no idea what it is to live in a place that is cold and damp, to where no matter what you do, you cannot get warm. If you had one ounce of compassion, you would realize what it is to live in poverty. As you have referred to many times this day, Nicolette and I have experienced such a life. We know firsthand what it is to go to bed on a filthy cot, your stomach cramping for lack of food. I remember many a day when we went through the garbage of fine people like you, looking for scraps to eat, just so we could live to face another endless day.”
Elizabeth bl
inked rapidly as though he’d slapped her.
“You would not survive an hour in such conditions,” Salvatore continued, a sardonic smile on his face. “So you demean anyone who does not have the luxuries you take for granted.” He shook his head, opened his mouth to continue his tirade, but instead clamped his jaw shut. Without another word, he tossed the reins to her horse back at her and took off like a shot.
Chapter Seven
It took all of Nicolette’s willpower to not follow Salvatore. Charlotte had brought her horse alongside hers and leaned forward. “Leave him to his thoughts. Let us enjoy the ride home.”
Despite her best efforts not to think about it, the scene between Salvatore and Elizabeth replayed in Nicolette’s head over and over again. Elizabeth, at Darian’s side, kept her chin lifted high, her fury evident by her rigid stance. Nicolette thought she might pack her things when they returned to the manor...just in case they were asked to leave.
When they had fallen a ways back from Darian and Elizabeth, Charlotte asked, “Have you made love to him yet?”
“I beg your pardon?” Nicolette replied, looking ahead to make sure Darian had not heard.
The sides of Charlotte’s mouth curved into an amused smile. “Salvatore. I saw the way you watched him today. The way he watches you. You desire him, do you not?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, yet Charlotte could read her too well to know she’d lied, and she felt comfortable with the widow. “I do.”
She beamed. “I knew it!”
“Yet he does not feel the same.”
Charlotte snickered. “My dear girl, you have so much to learn about men.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know men. I can read the look in their eyes, can tell by a glance if they want me or not. Just as I saw the way Salvatore looked at you...and he wants you.”
The words excited Nicolette, giving her hope. “Yet he treats me like a child.”
“He treats you like the child you were, not the woman that you’ve become. It is time you take matters into your own hands. Show your independence, prove to him that you don’t need him—”
“But—”
Charlotte put up a gloved hand. “Let him see that you can thrive without him, and let him chase you.”
“He would never—”
“How do you know?”
Nicolette opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.
“The past few nights, as Salvatore’s dinner companion, I have learned that the two of you have been inseparable for over a decade. True, you have spent time apart, but never a single night. You have traveled as musicians for five years, and he manages your career, while all you have to do is practice. He is so attuned to taking care of you, he has come to look at you more as a sister, I suppose, than a love interest.”
How she wanted to tell Charlotte of the plan to ruin Darian’s marriage.
Yet she would never betray Salvatore.
“The only thing I do not understand is why you are flirting so outrageously with Darian...and Salvatore seems to condone it. It makes no sense to me.”
Nicolette could feel the blush race to her cheeks.
Charlotte laughed. “So I ask you, why do you flirt with Darian when it is clear you prefer Salvatore?”
Did she dare tell her friend the truth?
“I want to make Salvatore jealous,” she blurted.
“It is as I thought. You are using one to get to the other. See, you are clever.” She seemed pleased. “Let me ask you this. Have you ever been with a man?”
Nicolette shook her head. “No, not like that.”
“How far then?”
Nicolette winced. “I have kissed.”
“Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, it was a chaste, on the cheek kiss.” “I asked him to kiss me the other night in the garden.”
The widow’s eyes lit up. “And did he?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte grinned. “Well, tell me everything.”
“The other morning I went for a ride and Salvatore came after me. The storm came, both our clothes were wet, so he stood with his shirt off, staring into the flames.” Nicolette met Charlotte’s smile. “He has a beautiful physique.”
“And...” Charlotte prodded.
“I kissed him, and he kissed me back. My hands wove through his hair and suddenly his lips had left mine, to travel down my neck to my breasts.”
The side of Charlotte’s mouth curved. “And?”
“It felt wonderfully wicked.”
“That’s my girl,” Charlotte said, adding a wink for good measure. “And what else?”
“I could feel—his manhood against me, brushing against my stomach.”
“Did you touch him there?”
“No.”
“You must. That is the problem with women today. They say nothing of what they want. It is a man’s world, Nicolette, but we can take pleasure just as they do. We can tell them what we want and how we want it.”
Nicolette shifted in the saddle, horrified yet excited that they were having the conversation. “What if he does not feel as I do?”
“Men want a woman who loves sex. As my mother always told me, be a lady in the eye of the public, but be a whore in the bedroom and always your man will be content. True, some men are intimidated by a strong woman who enjoys sex as much as he does. But I tell you this—a man would prefer a woman of passion much more than one who looks at sex as a duty. Embrace the act of making love. Enjoy the feel of a man’s hands on your body, the feel of his cock inside you—hard, pulsing, taking you to a place you never knew existed—to where you can touch the stars.”
Blushing at the bold words, Nicolette knew what Charlotte said rang true, for she had felt the ripples of passion as Salvatore had teased her nipples with his tongue.
“If you want Salvatore, you must be the aggressor. He has taken care of you for so long, he has not realized the woman you are. A gorgeous, desirable woman...that other men want to sample. Let him know you desire him.”
“What if he rejects me?”
Charlotte laughed. “My dear girl, there isn’t a man in all of England who would reject you.”
*****
Nicolette found Salvatore in his room, sound asleep, lying on his bed, still dressed in his riding attire, including his boots. She smiled softly hearing his even breaths and seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest.
He had been so furious with Elizabeth this afternoon, and it had shocked her that he’d been so quick to jump to her defense. Always, and especially when dealing with aristocracy, Salvatore kept a cool head. He had learned from a tender age that it was best to stay neutral at all costs, but Elizabeth’s words had sent him on a tirade, and he had squarely put Elizabeth in her place.
She had so badly wanted to go after Salvatore, but she was now glad she’d stayed and talked with Charlotte. The woman’s candidness was a welcome and surprising change from members of the ton. So unlike Elizabeth or the countess who had been waiting for the group, since she appeared on the manor’s steps, hands folded before her, watching the four of them dismount. Her brows had lifted to her hairline seeing Nicolette and Charlotte talking like old friends.
Nicolette watched the steady rise and fall of Salvatore’s chest. She smiled remembering the feel of his naked chest against her own. Her gaze shifted lower, over his stomach, where one of his long-fingered hands rested in the band of his breeches, to the material that cupped his manhood. Her stomach tightened. Salvatore made a noise and she glanced up, half expecting him to catch her looking at his erection.
Her fingers itched to touch him there, to see, feel, taste him. No doubt he would be shocked to know her secret desires.
&n
bsp; Suddenly his eyes opened and Nicolette jumped like she’d been shot.
“Nic, what’s wrong?” He sat up abruptly, looking about the room. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, her cheeks heating. Always he worried about her. When would he come to the realization that she did not need him to father her any longer? “All is well. I thought I would check on you after your heartfelt speech.”
The sides of his mouth curved and he lay back down, patting the place beside him.
Needing no more encouragement, Nicolette kicked off her boots and lay down, resting her head against his shoulder.
His fingers stroked her arm, making the hair there stand on end. She breathed in deeply, taking in his spicy, masculine scent. “I could not stay another moment in Elizabeth’s company for fear I would do something I would come to regret.”
“And here you had thought to charm her.”
“I think it is safe to say the charm has worn off. In fact, I’ve been expecting the countess herself to come escort us off the grounds.”
Nicolette put her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand. Feeling bold, her hand wandered lower, near the band of his breeches, then up again. She felt his heart jolt and she smiled to herself.
“What happened last night after dinner?” he asked, winding a strand of her hair around his finger.
“Darian drew me into the labyrinth. He wanted me right then and there. Thank goodness Charlotte came along when she did. I told her that Darian was in the middle of the maze and that he was looking for her. I watched only long enough to know Darian broke his agreement with the duke.”
“He had her right there?” Salvatore asked, sounding not at all shocked. “And you watched?”
“Only for a moment. Did you not notice Charlotte’s reaction to him this morning? She looked like the cat who ate the canary.”
“I wonder where Elizabeth was…”
“No doubt snug in her bed dreaming of her future husband.” Salvatore snorted. “The poor fool. He will never be faithful.”
A Dangerous Game Page 8
