The night had a surreal quality that even hours later did not dissipate. She still could not believe that Simon Laurent had publicly announced her as his daughter. Henrietta had tears of joy in her eyes as she hugged Nicolette to her and welcomed her to their family. “I want to be a mother to you,” the marchioness had said, and she seemed genuine. Having been denied a mother’s love, Nicolette had to admit the idea of having a mother in her life was tempting.
Where on earth was Salvatore? “Have you seen Salvatore?” she asked Charlotte while they were having tea with the other women in the drawing room.
Charlotte took a sip of her tea. “No, my dear. I have not, though I did miss his company tonight. He always seems to liven up the conversation. And he is awfully nice to look at.”
Nicolette smiled. “Indeed, he is.”
“He puts most men to shame, save for one.”
Nicolette knew Charlotte meant Darian.
As though sensing they were talking of her beau, Elizabeth took a seat nearby. “I must confess that Lord Wellesley’s declaration came as quite a surprise. I am still reeling from the news.”
How odd that in the space of a few hours she had gone from being looked down upon, to being accepted. “As am I,” Nicolette said, setting her tea down.
“You and I will be fast friends,” Elizabeth said, smiling prettily. “Perhaps you will marry a peer of the crown, and when our husbands are in Parliament, we can throw tea parties and visit the wonderful museums and galleries.”
Nicolette did not have the heart to tell Elizabeth that she should not waste her time hoping for something that would never happen. She would never marry a peer of the realm, and she had absolutely no inclination to stop playing music. “Perhaps,” she replied.
Charlotte used her gloved hand to brush away the powdered sugar that had fallen onto her skirts. “Elizabeth, tell me, where will you and Darian honeymoon?”
The woman’s cheeks turned bright red. “I would so love to visit New York, though Darian has told my mother that he believes a trip to Greece would do much for his disposition. It seems he is quite tired of the poor weather, and New York is not much better.”
“Salvatore and I rent a villa in Greece. A wonderful two-room home with dirt floors and sparse walls. The warm breeze flows in through the open windows, luring one to the gorgeous blue waters below.”
Elizabeth sighed. “How fortunate you are that you have seen so much in your short life.”
“Indeed, I am lucky. I’m even more fortunate since I was able to experience it with a dear friend.”
Charlotte patted her hand. “Well, you will have to take me to Greece one of these days. I would love to experience it as you have.”
Nicolette nodded. “I’d like that, too.”
Elizabeth glanced over at Henrietta. “You are so fortunate that Lady Wellesley has accepted you. Can you imagine learning that your husband has a child from another woman?”
“It must have been difficult for her,” Nicolette said, meaning it.
“Well, I’m certain if she had her own children, she would not be so forgiving,” Elizabeth said, reaching for a strawberry tart. “I doubt I would.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some women are good at heart,” Charlotte said in a cutting tone.
“Why did you not have children?” Elizabeth asked, biting into the tart, and getting crumbs all over her lap.
Charlotte shrugged. “My husband, bless his heart, already had children from his first marriage. He had no desire to have any more. He enjoyed traveling too much, and I never really cared to have children. I like my independence far too much. Yet, I suppose if the right man were to come along, I could easily change my mind.”
“And what about you?” Nicolette asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth choked on the tart. She sat it down, took a sip of tea before responding, “I would like oodles of children. Being an only child is a lonely existence. How I envied my friends who had sisters to play with.”
“I’ve no doubt Darian would be a good father,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly, setting the pastry down virtually untouched. Nicolette did not have to wonder what had caused the sudden loss of appetite.
The countess stood and cleared her throat. “Ladies, let us adjourn to the parlor where I have a surprise waiting for all of you.”
Charlotte took Nicolette by the hand, and they followed behind Elizabeth who walked beside her mother. They entered the parlor, where at the end of the room a large stage had been set. The women took their seats and the men quickly joined them. The large velvet curtain opened and a portly woman stood, dressed in Napoleon garb.
The guests roared, all but Nicolette, who wished she had been smart like Salvatore and slept through a comedy about the cocky French emperor. Her uneasiness continued as throughout the duration of the play, Nicolette could feel Darian watching her. She did not dare return his gaze, and kept her attention focused on the stage and the ridiculous play.
When at last the curtains closed, and the countess stood and announced Elizabeth would be playing the harp for them, Nicolette decided it was high time to bow out gracefully. She leaned toward Charlotte. “I am quite tired. I think I shall call it a night.”
Charlotte nodded. “You have done well hanging in this long. Would you like me to escort you?”
“No, I would not want you to miss Elizabeth’s performance.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Thank you for abandoning me,” she teased.
Nicolette squeezed her friend’s hand and made her way to the door, not making eye contact with anyone. She had made it to the hallway when someone grabbed her from behind.
Dread filled her. “Where are you off to?”
It was Darian, a charming smile on his face.
“It has been a long day,” she said, her heart pounding. “I fear I am too tired.”
“Come, Nicolette. It is your final night here. Stay.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I am still so tired from my accident.”
The chords of the harp called out from the drawing room. “You should return to hear Elizabeth.”
“I don’t want to. I want to be with you.” He reached out, and cupped her chin in his hand. “You are refusing me again.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I do not refuse you.”
His eyes lit up. “Then you will be waiting for me?”
She nodded. “Of course, my lord. I believe a warm bath and a chilled glass of wine will do me wonders.”
“You already drank a glass, Nicolette. Do you wish to be intoxicated?”
“Of course not. Though I confess to being nervous.”
He took her hand, and putting his fingers to his lips, signaled silence as he pulled her into the library and shut the door.
“You make me crazy with wanting.”
The room was pitch-black. With her back flat against the wall, she felt at a definite disadvantage. It took great control not to push against him and race for her room.
“If only Simon had declared you his daughter before I became engaged to Elizabeth.”
Her heart skittered.
“Then how I would yearn for my wedding day. As it is...now I cringe when I think of the noose that is to be my marriage.”
“Surely it will not be that bad.”
“I do not want her.”
“Family honor is a double-edged sword at times,” she said, treading carefully.
“Indeed,” Darian replied, palming her face in his hands.
“I have no wish to marry. I want only to have you. I almost wish that you were not Simon’s daughter. How I yearn to have you as my lady.”
Not his lady—but his mistress. For the first time, Nicolette was relieved to be the daughter of a marquess.
*****
Salvatore watched the passing landscape.
Simon Laurent had wasted no time in seeing his bags packed and Salvatore escorted to the awaiting carriage.
Simon had stood, hands clasped behind his back, watching until the carriage pulled out of the drive. The marquess had stuffed the note in Salvatore’s jacket pocket, and though it had been hours, he still could not bear to look at it.
He was being paid to stay away from the person he held most dear.
He shook with fury. Even now, his anger did not ebb, but instead grew stronger. He had not even been allowed to see Nicolette one last time. How he had yearned to open the door, to see her smile just once.
God, how would he live without her?
The lights of London flickered in the distance, and Salvatore sat up straight. His future seemed so uncertain, and he didn’t even know where to go. He would need to cancel their engagements, though perhaps the proprietors would allow a solo act?
He could not stay at their hotel, for that is where Nicolette would look for him, and he did not think he could bear to see her now. She had another life to live, and he would not be part of it.
And in an instant he knew where he would go.
He leaned out of the carriage and yelled to the driver, “To Drury Lane.”
Chapter Fifteen
Nicolette knocked on Salvatore’s door. When she received no answer, she opened it to find the room dark and empty. Further investigation showed he had not slept in the bed at all.
“May I help you?” a passing maid asked.
Startled, Nicolette put a hand to her chest. “Have you seen the gentleman who’s been staying in this room?”
The maid shook her head. “No, my lady. I have not.” With a curt nod, she left Nicolette alone.
Perhaps he was in her room? Hope quickened her steps, but she was bitterly disappointed to find the room empty.
Where in the world could he be? Her mind raced. She stepped onto the balcony and looked over the lawns, but could see no one, save Mrs. Stromme who puffed on a cigar.
Shutting the balcony doors behind her, Nicolette walked toward the door when it opened.
She held her breath, and let it out a moment later when Darian stepped in, a wicked smile on his face. How exhausting he was!
Nicolette’s pulse skittered as he made quick work of his cravat. “I thought I would join you in that bath.”
She swallowed hard. “I did not call for one yet.”
“Oh, but I did.” He stopped to pull his boots off.
She could not find Salvatore and Darian apparently was quite determined. What could she say? What could she do to stop what was going to happen to indeed happen?
A tap sounded at the door. Darian rushed back and opened it. His valet entered, and with five footmen behind him carrying buckets, they began the long process of filling the tub.
Once the men left, Darian strode toward her and embraced her. “You are mine tonight. No one will interrupt us.”
“What of your mother or Elizabeth?”
He put a finger to her lips. “Do not worry, my sweet. I have it all arranged. The servants have been paid well for their silence, I assure you.”
Again, a tap at the door, and once again a steady stream of footman appeared with steaming buckets of water.
Embarrassed, Nicolette went to the window and looked out. Salvatore, where are you? When the door closed, Darian locked it, then made quick work of his shirt.
His pants followed until he stood in just his drawers, holding his arms out to her.
Sweet Jesus, how would she get out of this?
“I can’t make love to you,” she blurted, pushing aside the fear that quickly rose to the surface.
He looked amused. “What do you mean? Of course you can. Now, come here.” He motioned for her to come to him.
Her legs were as heavy as lead, and she found she could not move. “I cannot.”
Irritation showed on his face. “Then I shall come to you.” He took the steps that separated them.
There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. “Wait!”
He frowned while running a hand through his hair. “I do not understand what game you play, Nicolette, but it is not wise to push a man so far.”
She did not like the expression on his face. In fact, she actually feared him in that moment, and felt the urgent need to escape. But he was too fast. He caught her in his arms, squeezing her tight to him. “You little vixen. I do not understand the games you play, but I am most willing to play along—but only as long as in the end I have you beneath me.”
An image of his body bowing over hers made her wince. She did not want to make love to anyone but Salvatore.
“It is not that I don’t want you. I do, but I am so terribly worried about Salvatore.” The words were out before she could stop them.
Darian’s fingers tightened on her arms. “Salvatore is fine.”
Her heart leapt. “Where is he?”
He frowned. “You do not know?”
Foreboding washed over her in waves. “Where is he?” she repeated.
Darian lifted his brows. “I thought your father would have told you.”
“Darian, please, tell me what you’re talking about. Where is Salvatore?”
“Salvatore has left Kedgwick Manor.”
Her pulse skittered with alarm. She could not believe it. Salvatore had left... without saying anything to her. “That is preposterous. He would never leave me? H...how long ago did he leave?” She said the words, yet she sobered recalling his belongings had been removed from his chambers.
“This afternoon.”
“What did you do to him?”
Darian looked like she’d slapped him. “I did nothing to the man, though God knows I should have.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
The side of Darian’s lips curved in a twisted smile. “I know who Salvatore is, Nicolette. I also understand that he came here hoping for revenge...a revenge that could have easily happened, had my friend Simon Laurent not arrived. Imagine my shock and surprise when Simon told me who Salvatore truly was. I knew my father sired bastards all over the continent, but little did I know one would come seeking vengeance. I have to hand it to him—the boy is smart. He knew I could not resist you.”
Darian pulled her close, until their lips were inches apart. “I will have you, Nicolette. I do not care if you are the daughter of my friend, or even if Lord Durham finds out I’ve cuckolded his daughter. I have been denied for far too long, and you have played the game far too well. What harm will a little pleasure do us?”
“I need to go to Salvatore.”
“He does not want you any longer. In fact, he seemed relieved that Simon offered to take you off his hands.”
The words cut to the quick. “You lie!”
“Salvatore would not leave you...until Simon offered him money.” Darian lifted the curl that had rested along the swell of her breast. “I must say, he took the offer and ran with it. Simon said he barely stopped to pack his bags.”
Nicolette reeled with the news. Salvatore had been paid off? No, it was unthinkable. He would never take money. He loved her.
Or did he?
Perhaps the money had been a godsend, and why else would he not have stopped to say goodbye? He had not even written her a letter.
“I understand it pains you to know he took the money and ran, but know this—I can be your protector now. I will give you anything you desire. You need not worry about money, clothes, or a home. Name your price—I will give you anything.”
“What would my father think of your offer, I wonder?”
Darian lifted a brow. “Come, Nicolette. You may be the newly acknowledged daughter of a peer of the realm, but yo
u are still a bastard. Even Simon knows that you may be accepted by society, but you will never truly be a blue blood.”
The words were a sharp slap to the face, and they gave her the courage she needed most desperately to rush past him, toward the door.
She struggled with the key, and in an instant Darian was behind her, his hard body pressed against her, pushing her against the door, his manhood like stone against her back. The key fell from her fingers.
“You will not leave, Nicolette.”
“Darian, let me go.”
“I will not,” he said, lifting her skirts with his hands.
Panic ensued, and Nicolette smacked her hand against the door. “Hel...”
Darian clamped a hand over her mouth and she bit him. “Little witch,” he said, trying again, clamping his hand so tight against her lips she tasted blood.
“Nicolette?” The voice came from the other side of the door.
Nicolette’s heart skipped a beat. It sounded like Elizabeth.
Darian went still behind her.
Relief washed over Nicolette in waves.
“Answer her,” Darian whispered against her ear, loosening his grip.
“Yes?”
“Open the door, Nicolette,” And this time it was Charlotte’s voice.
“Do not open it,” Darian whispered.
“Just a minute,” she called out, and Darian cursed under his breath. An instant later he was rushing about the room, picking up his clothing. He raced over to the balcony, then thinking better of it, and better yet, what he would look like to any guests in the garden, he slid beneath the bed.
Still shaking, Nicolette smoothed out her skirts and then opened the door.
Charlotte stood in front of Elizabeth, her brows furrowed into a frown. Her friend glanced past her shoulder into the room. “What is wrong?”
Nicolette wished Elizabeth were not here. She would tell all if it were just Charlotte. And she needed her friend to talk to, to try to understand what had happened with Salvatore. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. “Nothing.”
A Dangerous Game Page 16
