“Hardly had to do anything. You’re a beautiful woman.” Mrs. Ferguson gave Lexie an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I can see why Mr. Wetherby is besotted with ye.”
Her heart gave an excited lurch, but Lexie waved her hand dismissively. “He’s not besotted with me,” she scoffed.
“Whatever you say, dear.”
“Oh, for goodness sake. He’s only interested because no one’s ever told him ‘no’ before.”
Mrs. Ferguson chuckled like a proud mother hen. “True enough—he rarely gets turned down. But there’s something in his eyes when he looks at ye. It’s not the same with ye as it is with the other girls.” As Mrs. Ferguson said the words, Lexie bit her lip to refrain from asking just how she was different. She didn’t want to know.
Good God, she really wanted to know.
Reading her face as easily as Lexie read her books, Mrs. Ferguson said, “Let’s just say he’s interested, dear, and leave it at that. I know he’s got a bad reputation, but he really is a good man. He just doesn’t let anyone see it much. You could do worse.”
Mrs. Ferguson was right—she could do worse. In fact, in roughly ten months, she would be doing worse. So much worse.
Lexie knew Nicholas was interested. She wished he wasn’t. If he weren’t, he’d ignore her, and she’d pine for him from afar, finish up her time here, and get married. If he weren’t interested, he wouldn’t spend so much of his free time attempting to cajole her into speaking to him again, and she wouldn’t enjoy her time here nearly as much as she did. She couldn’t relent, because that was precisely what she wanted to do—give in and allow the overwhelming attraction to take over. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted his fingers brushing against her skin. He fascinated her in a way no one else ever had.
She needed to remember she would never, could never, be his. That to relent would be to risk losing her heart, for there was no middle ground when it came to Nicholas. She and Nicholas operated in the extremes: wildly passionate or coldly distant.
She was not, nor ever would be, a risk-taker. After all, she’d seen what taking risks had done to her father.
With a derisive, unladylike snort, Lexie asked, “You’re not trying to get us together, are you? He’s a notorious womanizer. He’s not interested in anything serious, and no self-respecting woman would fall for his tricks.”
“Och, if that were true, he wouldn’t be taking ye to the Governor’s Ball tonight. This is no trick. Besides, ye know you’re going to have to talk to him sometime. Don’t ye think you’ve made your point and punished the man enough?”
Lexie knew better. If she opened her mouth to talk to him, he would see it as a capitulation. If she talked to him now, where would she stop? Would she stop with simple talk? If he kissed her, would she be able to stop with kissing? Fact was, nothing and no one had ever stirred her blood quite like he did, and giving in to the smallest temptation—even just to utter a few words—would be a risk Lexie was unwilling to take. There was so much at stake. If she allowed him anything, she would fall for him. She couldn’t engage her heart in anything. If she did, how would she ever regain it?
Unfortunately, she could so easily fall for someone like Nicholas.
Releasing another gusty sigh, she said, “Mrs. Ferguson, it’s just so complicated.”
“Doesn’t have to be. He’s a good lad, and he’s got a good heart. I suspect when he falls in love, he will love only once. He dallies with his women, but his heart isn’t involved. I think when he finds the right woman, he will love her until the day he dies.”
“You can’t possibly think I’m the one. I’m his servant. Not only that, but he won me in a poker game. What kind of man does that?”
“Well, I suppose there are better ways this could’ve come about, but your father is the man who holds the major share of the blame for putting ye in this situation. As for Nicholas’s honor, I’m sure most other men would have made your time here...unpleasant. He hasn’t done that, has he?”
Silence fell between them. Of course he hadn’t made her miserable. He’d been willing to test boundaries, but he didn’t cross them. Mrs. Ferguson sighed as she regarded her. “Lexie, lass, you’re his perfect match. I didn’t think so when he brought ye here, but the more I get to know ye, the better I see it. How this happened is unimportant, don’t ye think? You’re beautiful, well-read, and as stubborn as he is. You’ll give him a challenge, and a man like him needs one. And lass, ye need someone who will pull ye out of your shell, who will make ye think, who will love ye with his whole heart. I think our Mr. Wetherby is capable of that.”
Lexie shook her head. Of course she wanted to be the one, the one woman who could tame the wild heart of Nicholas Wetherby, the one woman he would love above all others. As Mrs. Ferguson had pointed out, a woman would be daft and blind to not want Nicholas, and Lexie was neither. When he turned on his charm, she wasn’t impervious. It had been work to maintain her stony silence. Already promised to another, she was treading in dangerous waters when she entertained the idea she was the one for him.
“It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Ferguson. Mr. Wetherby and I are not to be.”
Nicholas waited for her in the foyer. Upon hearing the rustle of fine silk, he glanced up.
And stared, the breath temporarily stolen from his lungs.
Lexie was a vision dressed in scarlet. He thought she would wear the navy—it was far more sedate than the scarlet, a more typical dress for an evening with the governor. The other women in attendance would more than likely be dressed in darker, more subtly alluring gowns. This dress had been designed to draw a man’s attention to what were Lexie’s considerable assets. In a million years, he never would’ve guessed she would choose to wear this dress to the Governor’s Ball—she’d be sure to garner attention, that was for certain. He just wasn’t sure she realized that not all of it would be the kind she wanted. He almost told her to go back and change into something a little less...provocative.
But if he ordered her to change, she would twist his order into something worse—she’d probably come back in her dratted maid’s uniform. And he didn’t want her to change. She was a beautiful, vibrant flower, and she was on his arm. Even though she would the center of attention for every eligible bachelor in the place—and his heart would suffer for it—she deserved the attention. She had been locked up for too long.
Lexie needed to discover how beautiful she was.
Clearing his throat, he extended his hand to hers. “You’re, uh...You’re lovely.”
She smiled brightly at him, turning to show him the entire gown, and when she cast him a glance over her shoulder, batting those large, dark eyes, he laughed. “No need to be coquettish, Lexie. You already have my undivided attention.”
Against her will, the laugh escaped her, though she tried to smother it with a cough. She knew she had his full attention. A woman couldn’t ignore a man like him when he turned his attention to her, and she was no different. When she had come into the foyer and caught his eye, she noticed how those glittering turquoise eyes gazed at her approvingly, and her heart did an excited dance in her chest. A dark look crossed his face, but once she twirled brightly in front of him, his expression had changed into something altogether different, and the delight in his face when she had batted her eyes at him, daring him to tease her, had set her heart on fire.
Glancing at him over her shoulder, she had to admire his form—she wasn’t the only one beautifully attired. His longish, golden mane was swept back from his forehead, and he wore a black double-breasted dress coat over a crimson waistcoat, a crisp white shirt, and a bow tie. Black trousers and dark kidskin gloves finished the ensemble. Any man would be dashing in the clothing Nicholas had chosen for himself. He looked like the prince she had always dreamt would sweep her off her feet. He was so handsome Lexie had to remind herself to breathe when he extended her hand to her.
She accepted and graced him with a nod, silently telling him she approved of his appearance, too, and he laughed
. “Still not speaking to me?” When her smile abruptly fell to a scowl, he gave her a boyish, lopsided grin and said, “It was a pleasure to hear your voice. I thought for certain it had returned. A pity. You have a beautiful voice. I’ve missed it.”
She meant to smile demurely, and was horrified when, instead of just a smile, she’d given him a saucy little grin and a wink. The problem was, she enjoyed having Nicholas’s attention, how he teased her and tried to cajole her into talking again. The same part of her was a little afraid that, should she speak to him, the game would end, and with it, this lovely interplay between them.
He chuckled lowly. “Lexie, sweet, you may very well be the death of me.” With those words, he bent and kissed her hand, ever the gallant prince.
Lexie’s heart hammered in her chest, his lips burning her skin as he kissed her, even through the thin cloth of her satin gloves. A delighted shiver rippled down her spine, and she almost forgot herself and closed her eyes, wanting to lose herself in the glory of his touch. If she believed in fairy tales, she would have believed she had walked straight into one tonight. Like the tales of the princesses of old, Nicholas, in his own backward fashion, was saving her. She wouldn’t have nights like this once she wed, she would never again have the attention of a handsome young man, nor experience the heady rush accompanying the sensation of his lips on her skin. Her marriage would be survivable because she would have these sweet, precious memories of the days when a heart-breakingly attractive gentleman had attempted to woo her and sweep her off her feet.
Nicholas draped a dark wrapper over her shoulders, and she smiled in response. Clearing his throat again, he said, “I have a little something for you to wear. They seem somehow more appropriate, given what you’re wearing.” He pulled aside her curls, and she felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck, his hands on her bare shoulders. Shocking, the tingles such contact sent down her spine. Her stomach somersaulted, her entire body alive with the anticipation of his touch.
What was he doing to her?
He reached around her and put a necklace around her throat. Bending his head close to hers, he clasped heavy earrings to her ears, his hands grazing the tender spot beneath her earlobe, his kidskin-encased fingers trailing a path down her neck to her collarbone. She closed her eyes and a small sound escaped her. For the second time tonight, Lexie was mortified at her own actions, shocked the breathy, eager sound had actually come from her lips. She hoped with everything she had Nicholas hadn’t noticed.
But of course he had. His eyes alight with blatant lust, he regarded her for a moment. Motioning to the mirror on the wall behind her, he said, “You should see yourself, Miss Markland. I must say, my rubies have never looked better.”
She peeked around him and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Dressed in the finest gown she had ever worn, now she was draped in matching rubies. Large scarlet stones dangled from her ears, and the necklace—good God, the necklace must have cost a fortune. Rubies, surrounded by diamonds, formed a scalloped pattern settling gently on her collarbones. This necklace alone must cost as much as her fiancé would pay for her. Perhaps more.
She pushed the thought away and touched the necklace. She didn’t want to think of the future. What she had was now, and she intended to enjoy every second. The gems gracing her throat and her ears were the most beautiful things she had ever worn, ever seen. That he thought her worthy to wear such jewels—or to touch them, even—made her feel prized in a way she never had been before. It was a sensation so unfamiliar, tears immediately sprang to her eyes.
She gazed up at Nicholas with those wide, obsidian eyes brimming with tears, and he felt like a cad again for reasons that eluded him. He hadn’t anticipated tears at his gesture, and he hoped he hadn’t ruined the gains he’d made with her tonight. His courting of Lexie had taken a turn for the better tonight, up until he brought out his mother’s jewels. Worry creasing his brow, he asked, “Do you not like them? I can take them back.”
She shook her head, putting a protective, scarlet-gloved hand on his mother’s necklace. Her eyes searched his face, but he couldn’t quite interpret her expression—cautious, touched, maybe a little sad—and he wondered what she was thinking. He’d heard the moan that escaped her when he touched her skin. He’d affected her then. But a moment later, tears formed in her eyes when she saw what he had given her, and the rush he felt at Lexie’s desire had immediately been replaced by a strange tightening in his chest at the sight of her tears. He reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek.
“Then why are you crying? They’re lovely on you. I doubt there was ever a woman who looked quite so fine in those jewels.”
She stared up at him for a long time, and he waited a long time for an answer. He wanted to hear her voice again—wanted it more than he had wanted to hear anything in his life. The thought stunned him. He’d heard raucous excitement when he had won huge hands at cards, he’d heard women moaning as he pleasured them with his body, but the one sound he wanted to hear above all others was the sound of this beautiful, proud woman’s voice, saying anything. So what she did next stunned him even more.
She rose up on her toes and kissed him softly on the mouth.
It was a sweet, chaste kiss, and over all too soon. From the look on her face she had no plans to yield more. And yet that small kiss rocked him to his core. He had neither seduced her into giving it nor stolen it from her. She kissed him freely, a gesture of friendship, of a relationship going beyond that of employer and employee.
Perhaps his idea of courting her was worth his while, after all.
Chapter 6
Despite Nicholas’s best attempts, Lexie had managed to maintain her silence throughout the duration of the carriage ride to the governor’s mansion. The kiss she had given him had stunned them both, and Nicholas hadn’t anticipated the effect it would have on him. From her shocked expression he knew she was as surprised at her display of affection as he was. He’d thought about pursuing her for more, but the cautious way her body stiffened when he moved closer to her to do just that told him she wouldn’t yield him anything more. He had to be content with what she gave him and nothing more. So he’d smoothed his features into the smile that had melted so many hearts, escorted her out to the carriage, and tried his best to be a solicitous gentleman ever since.
She had the bearing of a queen, and he intended to treat her as such. Upon their arrival at the Governor’s Ball, a footman greeted them at the door and ushered them inside. A quartet played in the corner, and women dressed in all their finery chatted amiably while the men, decked out in their finest clothes, smoked or talked amongst themselves.
From the awe on her face, it was very clear she’d never been to anything like this. He wondered if she’d ever even left her little section of town, with its ramshackle homes with peeling paint, the streets smelling of dust and sewage. Not for the first time, he was reminded that Lexie was a poor girl from the wrong side of town, a girl who hadn’t been exposed to life on the other side, who didn’t know what it was like to have money. And because of it, because of the awe and wonder he saw on her face, she held a certain charm—an artlessness—that made her even more attractive.
Her dark eyes were wide as she looked around, as if stunned by the dimensions and lavishness of the room, and she scarcely seemed to notice when one of the butlers took her wrapper and Nicholas’s frock coat. For a moment, all she did was drink in her surroundings, studying the room and the people in it.
He knew the moment she realized how different she was, dressed in that particular gown, and he would have regretted buying it for her if she hadn’t been so damn beautiful in it. The other women wore dark colors—black, dark green, navy—and their dresses offered far more coverage than hers did. He tightened his hold on her arm and, with his free hand, gave hers a pat. His jaw clenched as he took in the hurt expression on her face, as others turned to look at her. If he could have, he would have branded her his.
If she were his, she’d never
have to tolerate the cruel gossip of these vultures.
He took off his gloves and handed them to the butler, brushing the soft skin of her cheek with his fingertips. “You’re lovely. You are, by far, the most beautiful woman in this room. A woman like you should stand out.” With those words, the frown died on her lips, and his heart soared. And that thoroughly confounded him. How was it that the emotions of this one little woman could affect him in such a way? He kept finding himself overwhelmed by the need to make her world right. He would do anything to make her happy.
Except let her go.
Extricating his arm from hers, but maintaining possession of her hand, he asked, “Would you like something to drink?” She nodded, and he left her to procure her a drink.
And cursed himself for leaving her.
He hadn’t been gone for but a moment when he glanced over his shoulder and saw her chatting with George Wallingford, a rising star on the political set. The man reeked of authority, with his dark good looks and commanding presence. Rumor had it he could be the next governor, or even president if he chose. He even looked presidential, though Nicholas didn’t think he possessed the wit for such a position. Wallingford loved women, and they loved him in return. The small impediment of his having a wife had never stopped him. And his Lexie was talking to the man when she wouldn’t speak to him. The mere idea made his blood boil.
But he waited, got Lexie some punch, and made his way back to her. He touched her elbow in a manner suggesting intimacy as he handed her the drink. “Mr. Wallingford. It’s nice to see you again.”
Wallingford’s eyes shifted from Lexie to Nicholas and back again. He arched an eyebrow at Nicholas and his features creased into a disarming smile. “Mr. Wetherby. I have just had the pleasure of meeting the charming Miss Markland.”
The Marker Page 7
