A Night of Redemption (The Night Series Book 2)

by Lori Brighton

  “Really, Nathan,” Eliza said. “You could be nicer to the help. After all, as my father says, they’re merely simple-minded creatures who don’t know better. It is up to us to teach them how to behave.”

  Nate resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d only just returned from Grayson’s estate. Had been awake for days, helping the man save his blasted family. Grayson, married. He never would have believed it, if he hadn’t seen the woman with his own eyes. Hell, the way they looked at each other…he’d never looked at his wife that way, and she sure as hell had never gazed at him in adoration.

  “They’re the help, Eliza,” he snapped, watching as the governess pulled open the kitchen door and disappeared inside, leaving a trail of mud in her wake. “I pay them so I don’t have to be nice. I pay them to do their jobs.”

  Her lips lifted at the corners. His arrogance amused her.

  He’d acted like a downright arse. Then again, he’d been an arse after he and Eliza had kissed years ago, realizing his mistake. Hell, she’d thrown herself at him one too many times, caught him while he’d been drinking and weak. It was his first and last mistake where women were concerned. From then on it was only tavern wenches who didn’t expect more than a quick tumble.

  Eliza shouldn’t have been surprised by his dismissive attitude. But he hadn’t merely been rude to Mrs. Church out of enjoyment. No, he’d needed the woman inside, away from him. Needed her to keep her distance, so he wouldn’t be tempted.

  Eliza arched a perfectly plucked brow, stating so much without speaking. She knew him too well, unfortunately. The woman wouldn’t relent, leave him in peace. But then the spoiled beauty had always gotten whatever she wanted. And for some reason she wanted him.

  He sighed, the guilt getting to him as she’d intended. “See yourself into my study. Order tea, or do whatever it is you titled ladies do while waiting. I’ll be there soon.”

  Ignoring her low chuckle, he left the stables, and headed toward the kitchen. Hell, he’d merely wanted to ride. To escape for a few hours after returning from Grayson’s. Seeing his friend so happily married had made him uneasy, questioning everything he’d known about love and life. But he could never escape his responsibilities. Raised chatter met him at the door, maids distressed by Mrs. Church’s appearance, or perhaps by the fact that she’d left mud on the floors. The moment he stepped inside, the room went quiet.

  “Where is she?” he demanded, finding Mrs. Turner standing near the stove.

  “The back room, cleaning.”

  He moved around the table, vaguely aware of the kitchen maids scurrying out of his way. The small back room held a sink he remembered quite well. He’d been forced in there many times as a lad to clean so he wouldn’t track dirt through the house. So very little had changed here.

  He pushed the door wide and stepped inside. The room was smaller than he remembered. A mere cupboard of a chamber, with a sink and window. Or, he supposed, he was larger now. Much larger. Mrs. Church gasped. With a cloth clasped in her delicate hand, she pressed her fist to her neck where her collar gaped open. He forced himself not to drop his gaze lower. Hell, this had been a bad, bad idea. But now that he was here, he couldn’t seem to leave.

  “My boys?”

  She looked at the floor. “I believe they have returned to the nursery, my lord.”

  He didn’t miss the way her voice trembled. Slightly obsessed, Nate studied her fine features attempting to discover what it was about the woman that held him enthralled. She’d managed to clear a path around her face and the skin shone pink from rubbing, but she was still a damn mess. The plain gray dress she wore was covered with mud and her hair had turned a dark brown from the dirt. His boys were heathens. When in the past he’d always been indifferent, for the first time in his life he was truly angry by their actions. She didn’t deserve this.

  He held out his hand and glanced at the dirty cloth she had clutched to her chest. “Here. Give it here.”

  She hesitated, but realizing she had no choice but to obey him, she finally relented. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from her chest and placed the cloth across his fingers. Having no time for silly shy maidens, he did quick work of rinsing the rag under the pump and turning back toward her. She merely stood there staring at him in wide-eyed innocence.

  “Come closer.” When she didn’t move, he stepped toward her. She stepped back. The room was small and she was suddenly pressed to the wall. “I do not chase after women, Mrs. Church,” he growled. “I suggest you hold still.”

  She froze.

  Annoyed, he gripped her chin and scrubbed the cloth against the shell of her right ear. When she cringed, he realized he might be scrubbing a bit harsh and gentled his touch. Slowing his movements gave him time to think, to truly see her. She had such fine features, really. Like a doll. A delicate ear. Such pure skin and warm eyes. The animal within him trembled. Covered in mud, but trying so desperately to seem unaffected, she looked stunning in her innocence.

  Not bold, honest and blatantly sexual like Eliza.

  Mesmerized, his fingers trailed down the side of her neck.

  She shivered.

  Over the earthy odor of mud, her sweet honeysuckle scent floated toward him. The heat inside his body intensified. That scent teased his senses. He didn’t understand his reaction to her, had never experienced anything like it. “You cannot show fear, Mrs. Church.”

  “Yes, I’ve been told.”

  He rinsed the cloth again, and started on her other ear. Desperately he tried to keep his hand steady, but was finding it more difficult the longer he was in her presence. Still, he remained. Why the hell didn’t he leave? Because even covered in mud she looked beautiful, regal, tempting. Desire shot through him. He should have let her go, yet he lingered.

  “You don’t fear the boys?” he said hoarsely.

  “I do not fear anyone.”

  He felt her shiver under his touch.

  “You lie.” He dropped the cloth into the washing bin and studied her face. She might deny the accusation, but he could see the truth in the rapid beat of her pulse, the flare of her pupils. “Do you fear all men, or just me?”

  “I fear no one,” she snapped back, and he would have believed her, if she hadn’t trembled again. She had spirit, and he respected that. But it was also obvious something terrible had happened to her at some point in life, as it did to so many. “May I leave, my lord? I’d like to change and salvage whatever part of the day is left.”

  He stared at her mouth, wondering for a brief, completely insane moment what she would taste like. She stared at his neck, no doubt wishing to be anywhere but stuck in the tiny closet with him. Shite, never would he allow a woman to control him. He commanded his own life.

  “Go.”

  She skirted around him and raced out the small room. Nate sighed, and turned to follow. The kitchen staff was working hard, too hard, their eyes averted to their task. It was only as he noticed their flushed faces that he realized how inappropriate it had been for him to be in the small room with Mrs. Church. Hell, his rational mind seemed to flee when she was near.

  Frustrated and annoyed, he moved through the kitchen and down the hall. His intent had been to drink himself into oblivion, until he noticed Eliza standing outside his study, waiting. How could he forget her? And by the looks of things, she was going to stay awhile.

  “There you are.” She gave him that smirk of a smile that had always sent heat racing through his body. Not now. “How’d it go?”

  “Delightful.”

  “Do you know what I think?” she said as she followed him inside his study. Their families had been neighbors for hundreds of years. He’d seen her almost as much as he’d seen his brother, until Nate had gone to war. It was only after he’d returned home, after his wife had died, that they’d reunited. She’d grown from a pretty child into a stunning woman. And she wanted him…finding him suddenly fascinating the moment his brother had died and Nate had inherited the title. Typical woman.

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nbsp; He collapsed into the chair near the fireplace. “No, I don’t know what you think, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  She skirted around him, strolling by the empty hearth. “I think you like her.”

  Everything inside of him froze. Shite, had his attraction been that obvious?

  She laughed and settled in the matching leather chair across from his. “At least as much as you can like anyone. You actually think that somehow she’ll tame your hellion boys.”

  He relaxed into his chair. No, she didn’t know about the heated attraction. She had no idea that thoughts of Mrs. Church kept him awake and hard at night. Had him fantasizing about lifting her skirts and sliding into her warm heat.

  “Well, there’s always hope.” He reached for the decanter on the side table. Lord, he needed the drink to numb his mind and body. Mrs. Church might be able to tame his boys, but who would tame him? “And if she doesn’t work, well, there’s always the military for the lot of them.”

  Chapter 4

  Even from inside his study he sensed the man.

  A fine sweat broke out across his forehead. His hands started to tremble. With a growl, he shoved away from his desk and moved toward the doors that led outside. The shipping investments would have to wait. He couldn’t see him, but he knew he was there…taunting.

  He shoved open the doors and stepped out into the early afternoon. A flash of a brown jacket sent his heart thundering. On his land? What the hell was he doing here? Nate raced across the yard.

  “You promised you’d be more discreet,” he growled.

  Allen stepped out from behind a tree and laughed. Nate’s ire flared. After two weeks of little sleep, he had no patience for the arrogant pup. He felt anxious, desperate, and he was more than willing to take it out on Allen. Nate grabbed him by the collar and jerked him close. “This is not a jest.”

  Allen narrowed his dark eyes, seething. Nate had no doubt that the younger man would have lashed out, if Nate had been weaker. But Allen knew Nate could kill him. He was, at least, that intelligent.

  “And how do I be more discreet when I can’t bloody well control myself?”

  “It’s something you can control, if you try.” Nate released his hold and shoved the man away. But they both knew controlling the beast wasn’t as easy as he implied.

  Disgusted, Nate spun around, too angry to be close to Allen. He’d spent years learning to tame the animal within him. So far, he’d been able to, but it was a weak grasp, to say the least. One had to have enough conscience to want to control the animal. He was afraid Allen liked his power a little too much.

  “Besides, you know as well as I that there is only one night when you’re likely to lose control. What happened yesterday eve?” Nate turned to face him, more than eager to hear the idiot’s excuse.

  The man shrugged, leaning nonchalantly against a tree. “I was hungry.”

  “You bastard.” Nate moved so fast, a normal person would have been caught off guard. But Allen wasn’t. He grabbed Nate’s wrist in defense. Nate spun around, easily breaking free, gripped the man by the throat and slammed him against the oak with a thud that vibrated the bones in his body.

  “Need I remind you,” Allen hissed. “I wouldn’t be this way if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Need I remind you,” Nate snapped back. “You wouldn’t be this way if you hadn’t been hunting illegally on my property!”

  Allen’s lips lifted, a growl rumbling low in his throat. “Why should we have to hide what we are? We deserve whatever we want.”

  The arrogant arse thought he was better than others, he didn’t realize that they were so much worse; they were barely human. Nate released his hold, annoyed his emotions had gotten the better of him. Hell, he was just as bad as Allen. “You’re an idiot if you think this is a reward. This is a curse, nothing more.”

  Allen shoved his hands into Nate’s chest, sending him back a step. The pup was growing stronger, bolder. “And you will live a life of hell if you don’t accept that we are different, we are stronger, more intelligent, and we deserve better.”

  Nate growled, preparing to show the man just who was the lord here when a door creaked open. Bloody hell. Nate stiffened, focusing on the footsteps headed their way. Soft, light footsteps. The wind shifted and her familiar scent came toward him on the cool autumn breeze. He had been avoiding Mrs. Church since the incident in the mud room. He’d occasionally see her chasing after his boys. Once in a while hear her cursing under her breath. He’d even heard her cry out in her sleep a couple nights ago. But he had stayed away. Far away.

  With her nearby all thoughts of Allen fell to the wayside. His mind focused on the woman…only her. And that was the problem…even though he tried to keep away, it didn’t matter. He’d grown obsessed. She haunted his dreams. He found himself looking out the windows of his library merely to catch a glimpse. He’d even sent a footman to find out more information about the mysterious Mrs. Church. But he’d come back with nothing.

  He wasn’t the only one who noticed her approach. Allen’s nostrils flared, his body stiffening. “Something smells lovely.”

  Nate slammed him against the trunk, pressing his forearm to the man’s windpipe, not enough to do damage, but enough to make a point. “Touch her, or anyone in my household, and I swear I will kill you.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

  Nate pressed harder against the man’s throat. He knew his reaction was ridiculous, given that he’d just met the woman a couple weeks ago, but he had the sudden and intense desire to not only lay claim to Mrs. Church, but protect her with his life. “No one touches my family.”

  Allen grinned. “Yes, I’d hate for anything to happen to your boys.”

  Nate’s lips lifted into a growl. He could kill the young man so easily. No one would see them here under this tree. Even if there were witnesses, his household would keep quiet. But killing Allen would be just what the monster inside wanted. He had to listen to reason, not the beast.

  “Careful, she’s coming.” Allen quirked a brow. “Perhaps your household is loyal, but I can tell by her scent that she’s new. Will she keep your secrets?”

  Nate’s threats hadn’t influenced Allen. They never did. Allen was young and stupid and therefore thought he was invincible. Reluctantly, Nate released his hold. Allen stepped away, smoothing down his jacket just as Mrs. Church came around the corner wearing a pink dress that seemed oddly young and innocent for her, almost as if the gown had been the hand-me-down from another. She should have been dressed in bold green silk, or midnight blue. Not a silly, frilly concoction that a London debutante would wear.

  Spotting them, she paused. The surprise upon her face quickly gave way to anxiety. Not that a normal human would be able to tell she was nervous. She kept her hands at her sides, her face void of emotion. Really, she was quite good at hiding her feelings. Yet, he sensed the nerves, noticed the pulse in the side of her neck quicken, smelled her unease.

  “I’ve interrupted. I apologize.” She turned, her skirts flaring wide, showing off trim ankles that made him want to feed her a hearty meal. She seemed too bloody frail. He would see that Mrs. Turner made sure she ate.

  Damn, but he shouldn’t care. That bloody protective instinct was what had ruined his life those many years ago. If he hadn’t tried to save that solider, he wouldn’t have been injured. But he knew deep down the only thing she needed protecting from was him.

  “No, please,” Allen stepped forward and took Mrs. Church’s hand, preventing her from escape. “Do not leave on my account.”

  He smiled a wicked grin. Arrogant arse. He was young, only one and twenty, and he was handsome with his dark hair and dark eyes. Many a woman fell for his charm. And he had the ridiculous title of baron, which, for most, added to his appeal. Did Mrs. Church find him attractive? Considering she didn’t return his smile, perhaps not. For some reason he found her lack of interest amusing and oddly satisfying.

  “And you are?” Allen asked.r />
  She pulled her hand away and Nate resisted the urge to laugh. Served Allen right. He might not be able to set him down a peg, but she could. “Mrs. Church, the new governess.”

  He bowed. “Charmed.”

  She looked hesitant, glancing up at Allen, then to Nate as if hoping he might save her from the uncomfortable situation. Good, she should be leery. Most women were nervous in their presence, at least those who had good sense. The women who wanted adventure, who were bored with life…they sensed something in Nate that represented danger and excitement. But Mrs. Church…she was a good soul, a trembling mouse of a woman who probably feared adventure. Boring, judgmental. At least, that’s what he had originally thought. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Tis a pleasure to meet you,” she murmured. “But I was just headed back inside.”

  “No, please, I am leaving.” But Allen didn’t go. He paused, a slow smile lifting his lips. “I hope I do not offend, but my, you do smell lovely.”

  It was a completely inappropriate and audacious compliment, and she flushed, horrified as any gently bred lady should have been. Of course Allen had done it on purpose, to embarrass her and anger him. Nate’s fingers curled as he resisted the urge to teach the pup a lesson. Most men feared him, and Allen had at one time. But slowly the man was becoming drunk with power. A drunkenness that would get him killed, if not by Nate, than another.

  “Well then, I’m sure I’ll see you about town.” His gaze sparkled with success as he glanced toward Nate, daring him to react. “My lord.” Allen dropped into a deep, mocking bow before sauntering toward the gate, whistling a jaunty tune.

  Nate didn’t respond, merely watched the man until he disappeared, not daring to look away. Something would have to be done about Allen, and only he could right this wrong. He would not see his sons harmed. He wouldn’t see Mrs. Church harmed. Not because he cared about the governess, but because he was responsible for those in his household. At least that’s what he told himself.