Marrying Mischief

by Lyn Stone

  “What I said must have sounded like criticism to her,” he muttered to Guy.

  “Now whatever would make you think such a thing? I wonder!” Guy’s shoulders shook, but he managed to stifle his laughter. “She was absolutely livid. Nothing timid about your little country mouse, I’ll say that for her.”

  Nick frowned. “Emily’s no mouse. And how can you fault her for being reared in the country? It’s not as though she had any choice about it.”

  Guy sobered. “I don’t fault her for it, Nick. Do you?”

  “My God, no, of course not. If you want the truth, I was this close,” he said holding his thumb and forefinger a scant half inch apart, “this near to proposing to her when my father had me hauled away to India.”

  “You don’t say! Well, you never confided that before. Have you mentioned it to her, by any chance?”

  “She would never believe it. There was a time when she would have believed anything I told her. I fear Emily has become far too cynical and mistrustful in recent years.”

  “She’s no longer a child,” Guy pointed out.

  “You noticed,” Nick replied dryly. No, Emily was not a girl any longer. And something had to be done about their current status as man and wife. Left as it was, they would soon be more distant with one another than they had been when living continents apart. It might even gentle her if he went about it in the right way.

  He and Guy had almost reached the dining room when Upton appeared again. “My lord, you asked that the countess be served in her room, but the maid says she is not there.”

  Nick experienced a sudden rush of apprehension. “Then where is she? Has anyone seen her?”

  Upton looked distinctly self-righteous as he cleared his throat and answered. “Yes, my lord. I’m told she has gone to your chamber. Apparently, she refused the tray. She’s…waiting.”

  Nick managed to temper his sigh of relief that she hadn’t hared off down the street somewhere in a fit of temper. “Thank you, Upton. That will be all.”

  “Very good, my lord.” The butler—apparently disappointed that he had not gotten more of a reaction with his tattling—nodded and left. The man’s days here were numbered, Nick thought to himself. He would replace him with Jems.

  Nick looked at Duquesne.

  Eyes twinkling, apparently enjoying the whole farce, Guy said, “I am almost tempted to actually stay for dinner just to see what you would do.” He let loose a full-fledged grin. “But I won’t. Go ahead, old fellow, see what she’s waiting for. I’ll meet you tomorrow as planned.” He knocked a fist lightly on Nick’s shoulder. “Don’t summon the cadaver back just to open the door for me. I shall see myself out.”

  “Thank you, Guy,” Nick said absently as he looked up the stairs, wondering what in the world had possessed Emily to enter his bedroom.

  Considering their last conversation, Nick felt fairly certain Emily wasn’t there with the intention of sharing his bed.

  The only reasons he could imagine was that she was waiting to apologize for her behavior or to castigate him for his.

  He deserved whatever she decided to fling at him, he supposed. There was no excuse for the things he had said, but seeing her in that dress—rather, having Guy see her in it—had driven rational thought right out of his head. He’d had the strongest urge to take off his coat and wrap her in it.

  He had also experienced another, much stronger urge, unfortunately, one impossible for him to act upon at that moment. The fact that he could not had only added fuel to the fire. Even now, Nick didn’t quite trust himself to go to her when a bed was that nearby.

  Waiting wouldn’t solve that problem, however, so he took a deep breath and started up to face the music.

  She was standing by the window when he entered. “Emily?”

  Turning as if startled, she let the drapery she’d been holding aside drop back to its original position. “Nicholas.” She sounded defensive.

  “I was told you were waiting for me?” he asked, infinitely glad that she had changed into another gown, this one in no way seductive. Even so, he felt the now familiar surge of desire that occurred whenever he was near her.

  “Lord Guy has already gone?”

  “Yes, he decided not to stay for dinner, after all.”

  She bit her bottom lip and refused to meet his eyes. “Because of me,” she guessed.

  “He was more amused than upset, so you shouldn’t worry about it,” Nick assured her. “I behaved abominably, Em. The fault is mine, not yours.”

  Her mouth, already open, snapped shut. She turned away from him before speaking. “You chose the dress yourself.”

  “So I did,” he admitted, moving closer behind her, cupping her shoulders with his palms. How delicate she felt, how small and defenseless. “And I’m afraid you wore it altogether too well. Lovely as you looked in it, I was loath to share the view, even with my closest friend.”

  Her body trembled beneath his hands. She said nothing.

  “Emily, do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He smiled to himself. “Do you realize how much I want you? How much I have always wanted you?”

  She sniffed. “Even when you were betrothed to another woman? Even when you knew you could never offer me marriage?”

  Nick released her and dropped his hands to his sides. “How many times must I tell you, there was never a betrothal? I would have asked you to marry me if my father had not interfered.”

  Instantly she whirled around, her face a study in dismay. “No! No more lies, Nick! I cannot bear it.” She swallowed hard and clasped her arms around herself. “I saw the betrothal document.”

  “Oh, that.” He could not imagine where she had found the thing, but it mattered little now. “It is invalid.”

  “I realize that, now that you and I are married, but it was real enough when first you kissed me and pretended to love me!”

  “Not even then,” he insisted. “My father forged my name to it, Emily. I never signed it and had no notion that it existed until I found it in my father’s desk when I returned.”

  She didn’t believe a word of it, he could see. Lips pressed tightly together, she studied his eyes as if trying to find the lie.

  “I swear it on Mother’s soul, Emily. I never signed the thing. I never would have done so and Father knew that.”

  After a long moment fraught with tension, she finally asked, “Whatever could he hope to gain by doing such a thing?”

  Nick took her hand and led her to the chair beside the fireplace. She didn’t resist his touch and he thought that was a good sign. Perhaps she was beginning to credit he was telling her the truth.

  Once she was seated, he sat on the ottoman facing her, still holding her hand in his. “He must have believed I would honor it rather than expose what he had done and cause a scandal.”

  “Would you have married her if I had not forced you into wedding me?”

  Nick had to laugh. “Forced me? As I recall, it was I who did the insisting.” Clearly she was not amused, so he added, “I wanted to marry you, Emily. I am glad things happened as they did and that you are my wife. I only wish…”

  “Wish what?” she asked in a whisper.

  Nick leaned forward and captured her mouth, willing himself not to hurry her, exulting in the heady rush of need that enveloped him, trying to gauge whether she felt it, too.

  When their lips parted, he cupped her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “That you were really mine.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emily struggled against her instinct to welcome Nick into her arms, to claim him against all odds and make him hers at last. Good sense warned her that he would use passion to distract her. There were so many things between them that she still did not understand. Things he did not want her to understand, apparently.

  His apology had thrown her off guard, probably as he had meant it to do. There she was, all prepared to demand it of him and he had calmly laid it at her feet without h
er asking. She remembered all too well that Nicholas was the master of the unexpected.

  Thank goodness he had stopped with one kiss and given her an instant to think this through.

  She grasped his wrists and removed his hands from her face. “No,” she told him firmly. Her breath seemed to be restricted, coming in small gasps, a result of his kissing her, she knew. “We must talk. I came here to…talk, not…I came to talk.”

  When he drew back, she took another moment to recover, then explained. “Nick, I overheard you and Duquesne speaking in the library.”

  He scowled, obviously not thrilled that she had eavesdropped. “And?”

  She took a deep breath and watched him closely to judge whether he would withhold the truth. “He said I should beware of you. Though I know you might prefer anyone else as your countess, Nick, I cannot believe you would ever harm me.”

  “Good God, no!” he exclaimed. “I’m aghast you’d even entertain such thoughts. I would move heaven and earth to protect you, Emily, and you know it!”

  She shrugged. He probably would. But she was by no means certain of it. She also noted he had not responded to her remark that anyone would make a better countess than she. “Then tell me what Duquesne meant. Why should I be afraid?”

  Nick issued a protracted sigh and shifted on the ottoman, stretching his long legs out to one side so that his right hip rested against her knees. She examined his face in profile, his strong features set in a worried frown. “Someone intentionally wrecked our carriage,” he admitted.

  “Well, I know that,” she declared. “Anyone with eyes could see that tree had been cut instead of falling of old age into our path. A highwayman placed it in order to stop the carriage and rob us. Then he became frightened or changed his mind and ran away. You told me this yourself.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t want to worry you. There’s a good chance it was no highwayman, Em.”

  “You think not? Then who…?” She reached out and grasped his forearm.

  “There were two attempts on my life before I left India. At the time, I marked the incidents up to business rivalry. Such things are not that unusual in that part of the world where the law is more difficult to enforce. However, it’s entirely possible that the threat has followed me here.”

  “That’s why Duquesne said what he did? Because I might be in danger when I’m near you, is that it?”

  “The carriage wreck, a case in point.”

  “Do you have any idea who might be responsible? Who would benefit?” she asked.

  He placed his hand over hers, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, a gesture of reassurance, she thought. “Well, there are a few I could name who might think they would. Guy is helping me investigate. There could very well be a risk involved in your being with me if anyone makes another attempt.”

  “But you, Nick! What of you? Let us return to Bournesea at once where we know everyone! It’s not safe for you to remain here where there are so many strangers.”

  “To tell the truth, I think it will matter little where I am if this person is determined to do me in.”

  Emily turned her hand over so that she grasped his. “But what can we do, Nick? We have to do something! We can’t simply sit around waiting for someone to try again.”

  His smile warmed her straight through. “So you do care for me still?”

  “Of course I care! Why ever would you believe that I don’t care?”

  His smile mocked her as he stroked her fingers in a blatantly suggestive manner. “Why ever would I think that you do? You obviously think me a cad and a bounder, a profligate liar and a seducer of innocents. And who knows what else—”

  “Do hush!” she interrupted with a huff, and promptly pinched him hard on the wrist to halt his taunting.

  “Ouch!”

  “Keep your mind on the business at hand, will you? We must devise some plan to apprehend this scoundrel who wishes to harm you, Nick. It won’t do, you know.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her ferociously, taking her quite by surprise and with a great deal of fervor. Lights flashed behind her eyes and she felt faint. So wonderfully faint.

  Next she knew he was on his knees before her, drawing her close to him. Emily felt his chest hard against her breasts, one hand threaded through the hair at her nape, the other tightly clutching the waist curve of her corset.

  She felt at once imprisoned and liberated, her senses drugged and yet as alive as they had ever been, zinging with Nick’s very essence from every quarter. The manly scent of bay rum, the luscious taste of brandy. The glorious feel of his insistent body pressing against hers. His growl of desire that reverberated within their kiss. She wanted it never to end, never to allow her rational thought again, for she would be obliged to cease this…

  Suddenly he released her and moved back. “Emily?”

  “Hmm?” she hummed, eyes half-closed, still caught up in the tantalizing spell he’d wrought.

  His hands cradled her neck. “Look at me, Em.”

  She tried to focus on him as she licked her bottom lip, savoring the taste he had left there.

  He blinked hard and looked away for a second. “Please, do not do that again unless…”

  “What?” she whispered on a shallow, uneven breath.

  Giving her a gentle shake, he explained, “You know that I want you. But each time I look into your eyes, I see doubt. I will not continue with this unless you will promise that I have your complete trust.”

  “Blackmail,” she accused softly, the languor he’d inspired lingering in all the recesses of her body. “You’re a bad man, Nicholas. Truly bad.”

  He smiled tenderly, her Nick of old, the one who had teased and coaxed, wooed and won, loved and left. Or had he loved? He’d never said as much, she reminded herself. The daze he had inspired began to disperse more with each second she spent without their lips or bodies touching.

  “I could be,” he told her. “I could make you mine tonight, right now, take advantage of these unfamiliar feelings of yours, which you do not yet understand—”

  “Not so unfamiliar,” she announced.

  “There’s been someone else?” he demanded, frowning.

  She gave him such a shove, he landed on his backside, well away from her. “You are a bounder to ask such a dreadful thing! Of course, there’s been no one else!”

  Despite his ungainly position on the carpet, he grinned. “I thought not.” He got up from the floor and sat on the ottoman again, observing her closely. “But you gave me a moment’s pause there, I must admit.”

  Emily narrowed her eyes and stared back. “And I suppose you’d have me believe there has been no one else for you in all that time?”

  He looked away. “Certainly no one who mattered, rest assured.”

  “No one who mattered?” Emily sprang up from the chair and began to pace, her arms folded protectively in front of herself. “And to think, I almost became another in your lengthy parade of willing wantons!”

  “But I did not allow it, did I?” he pointed out. “I stopped kissing you to show you that I had no intention of coercing you into anything you did not wish with all your heart to do. I remained in control for the both of us. There’s your proof that I hold no evil intent, nor do I leap into bed with a woman at the slightest provocation the way you think I must.”

  “The slightest? Hardly any provocation at all, was it? That’s proof only that you were not as genuinely affected as I was. Your so-called control is not so flattering, Nick, I promise you.”

  To her chagrin, he laughed. Hard. Though he never did enough of that these days, she was not glad he did it now.

  “You want me? Come here,” he invited, spreading his arms to welcome her. “See how genuinely affected I really am.”

  She flung out her hands in a gesture of total frustration. “No!”

  “What am I to do with you?” he asked, not for the first time since their unfortunate reunion. He shook his head ruefully, still smiling. “Contr
ary little widgeon. You haven’t changed one iota.”

  “But I have,” she insisted.

  “You are more beautiful than ever, that I will grant you. Come, let’s begin again. Grant me your trust. With a bit of faith on your part, nothing prevents us making ours a true and lasting marriage.”

  She held her ground. “Nothing but the fact that you blithely sailed away without a fare-thee-well. Nothing but seven years apart with no word of explanation.”

  And, Emily thought with a greater surge of anger, there was his misuse of Rosie, but she would not mention that again. He might decide to turn the girl off to avoid another brangle about her, and Rosie did not deserve that.

  Nick’s arms fell by his side. “What do you mean, no explanation? You know very well Father forced me to go. I told you so.” He expelled an impatient huff.

  “What’s the use? You’re determined not to believe or trust or forgive, no matter what I do or say, aren’t you!”

  Emily couldn’t look on his disappointment, or she feared she might forgive him, right then and there, no matter what he had done. She half believed him about the fraudulent betrothal. Could he be telling her the truth about why he had left her? Or was she grasping at his excuses with the greedy hands of a woman who wanted him more than life itself?

  She had to think clearly and could not accomplish that while in the same room with the man.

  With that in mind, she strode past him to the door and opened it. “We’re both overwrought,” she told him. “If you don’t mind, I think we should continue this another time when a calmer mood’s upon us.”

  “Suppose I do mind?” he snapped. “Suppose I want you now!”

  Emily leveled him with a look of disdain fostered by her indomitable pride. “Then use some of that control you’re so bloody proud of.” She slammed the door and hurried away before he could reply.

  Only after she reached her room, did she remember the danger Nick was in and that they must find some way to resolve that problem. She might be ready to wring his neck herself, but she would die if anyone else did him any harm.

  The man made logic an impossibility, and she imagined he would have the same effect on her sleep tonight.