“It wasn’t love.” Elizabeth shook her head firmly. “It was nothing more than, I don’t know, lust, I suppose. A desire for adventure and excitement. That sort of thing.”
“Then he didn’t break your heart?”
“Absolutely not. My pride, perhaps, but not my heart.”
“Well, if you didn’t love him—”
“I didn’t.”
“And he didn’t break your heart—”
“He didn’t.”
“Then again, dear sister, I simply don’t understand.” Jules leaned forward and stared into her sister’s eyes. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
Elizabeth raised her chin. “I detest him.”
Jules scoffed.
“Perhaps I don’t detest him exactly, but I certainly don’t trust him.”
“Then don’t marry him.”
“Marry him?” Elizabeth started. “The question of marriage is not an issue. He certainly did not mention marriage, nor have I any intention of marrying him. I have agreed to do no more than accompany him to his uncle’s party, and that only because I had no real choice. Why, the thought of marriage to Nicholas, to any man for that matter, has not so much as crossed my mind.”
“What has crossed your mind?”
“Nothing of any consequence. Not a thing, really.” She smiled weakly and acknowledged the lie to herself. In spite of her confusion, the one thing she had realized in the long, sleepless hours of the night was that she would like to do considerably more than return Nicholas’s kiss.
Jules studied her in a considering manner but didn’t say a word.
Elizabeth heaved a resigned sigh. “I may possibly want him as well.”
“Then I see no reason why you should not have him.” Jules smiled and sipped at her tea as if she were suggesting an excursion to Bond Street for perfumed soaps and not something scandalous and improper and immoral.
“I couldn’t possibly.” Even to her own ears, Elizabeth’s denial did not quite ring true.
“Why not?”
“It would be wrong. I have certain principles, after all. There is a question of propriety. Certain rules of behavior that one is expected—”
“Men have liaisons of an amorous nature all the time,” Jules said in a matter-of-fact manner.
“I am not a man.”
“No, but you see no reason why you should not be given the same consideration as a man when it comes to your abilities with your finances.” Jules sipped her tea and widened her eyes in an innocent manner Elizabeth didn’t believe for a moment. “Why is this any different?”
“I don’t know, but it seems completely different.” Was it really? Charles, and any number of other men she could name, married men at that, apparently had no qualms about taking a lover. Why should she?
“After all, Lizzie, you are a widow, not a wife. You quite enjoy the freedom your status affords you. Why should that freedom not extend to your bed?”
“Jules! How can you say such a thing? I had no idea you were so…so…” Elizabeth searched for the right word, “free thinking!”
Jules laughed. “Not at all. I am simply happy with my life, and I wish you to be happy as well.”
“I was happy.”
“No, my dear, misguided sister. You were content.” Jules leaned back in her chair and considered her sister. “When you married Charles, I thought your life would be perfect. Indeed, I thought he was perfect. It wasn’t until I met and married that I saw what true happiness was. My husband is the other half of my soul.”
“A grand passion,” Elizabeth murmured.
Jules nodded. “Exactly. I don’t think Charles was a grand passion.”
Elizabeth stared. “You think my marriage was a mistake?”
“I’m not sure I would call it a mistake.” Jules paused to choose her words. “Indeed, if we were to turn back the clock and live those days once more, I’m certain I would encourage you to marry Charles again. It’s only hindsight and experience that now make me think otherwise. Although it scarcely matters anymore.” She adopted a brisk tone. “You have an entire life ahead of you, and you have earned the right to live it exactly as you please.” Jules grinned in a most suggestive manner. “And it seems to me there is one thing that is virtually guaranteed to please. A special Christmas gift, to yourself, if you will.”
“Nicholas Collingsworth,” Elizabeth murmured.
“You said you wanted him.”
“It’s exceptionally difficult to admit such a thing.”
Whether she was willing to admit it aloud or not, she did indeed want Nicholas now, as she had ten years ago. As she might well have wanted him somewhere in the back of her mind every day between then and now. But lust was a far cry from love.
“You should have him then.”
“I should, shouldn’t I?”
“Think of him like a sweet that you have denied yourself for a very long time.”
“Ten years,” Elizabeth said under her breath. Ten long years.
Why not indeed?
It had been her experience that the desire for sweets long denied simply grows with the passage of time, the sweet itself becoming more and more irresistible. A simple sampling, nothing more than a taste really, might serve to ease the desire.
Ten very long years.
But gorging on said sweet might well satisfy the craving forever.
Of course, it would never do at all if she’d truly been in love with him. But as it had been simply lust then and simply lust now there was certainly no risk to her heart. Certainly, there was the possibility of hurting him if indeed he truly cared for her. His admission of having made a mistake notwithstanding, if he had loved her, how could he ever have left her? And left her in a manner that virtually assured she would turn to Charles.
Excitement brought Elizabeth to her feet. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent!” Jules beamed at her sister and stood. “And you may count on me to assist in whatever way you deem necessary.”
Elizabeth raised a brow. “I do appreciate the offer, but I doubt that I will need any assistance. I have never seduced a man, but how difficult can it be? I can’t imagine there will be a great deal of resistance. I know I have not had any, shall we say, practice, in this particular area since Charles’s death, but I daresay I remember how.”
“It’s like riding a horse,” Jules said confidentially. “Once you know how, you never—”
“Jules.” Elizabeth laughed. “That’s quite enough, thank you.” She sobered. “I have no intention of marrying him, however.”
“Nor should you. You cherish your independence far too much.”
“And while I expect to feel a certain fondness for him, love will not enter into this.”
“Not that I disagree, mind you, but why not?”
“The one thing I have learned in handling my own finances is that one should never risk more than one can afford to lose,” Elizabeth said simply.
“I see.” Jules paused, then nodded. “Love is neither required nor expected.”
“At the end, he shall go his way and I shall go mine.”
“No need to do otherwise.”
“It’s settled then. I shall embark upon a relationship with Nicholas based on nothing more than prurient desire and unbridled lust.”
“Here, here.” Jules raised her cup. “To prurient desire and unbridled lust.”
“I have no intention of changing my mind, but,” Elizabeth drew a deep breath and grinned, “I can’t believe I am planning such a thing.”
“Neither can I.” Jules laughed. “But it should be an extraordinarily merry Christmas.”
Chapter 9
“It is an honor to meet you, my lord.” Nick adopted his best formal manner and nodded his head in a polite bow.
“And you as well, Sir Nicholas.” The eight-year-old Viscount Langley, Christopher, gazed up at Nick and acknowledged his greeting with a tone that matched the older man’s in formality even if it was considerably hi
gher in pitch and his stance substantially shorter. It was apparent the boy was exceedingly conscious of his position as viscount.
“And what of me, Sir Nicholas?” six-year-old Adam interrupted, as Nick suspected he was prone to do. “Is it an honor to meet me as well?”
“Most certainly, Mr. Langley.” Nick extended his hand. “A very great honor.”
Adam shot his mother a grin. “I thought it would be.”
Elizabeth smiled a sort of long-suffering smile, but pride in her sons showed in the looks she cast them and the smile on her lovely face. The two fair-haired, blue-eyed boys resembled her greatly in coloring and appearance. Nick wondered if they would be tall like their father.
They should have been mine.
He ignored the thought. Now was not the time for such regrets.
“I understand you were a friend of our father’s,” Christopher said.
“Indeed I was.” Nick nodded solemnly. “Your father and your uncle Jonathon were my closest friends in our youth.”
“And Mummy as well?” Adam asked.
“Mummy as well.” Nick cast her a quick smile, and she returned it politely.
“Mummy needs friends, I should think,” Adam said in a confidential manner.
“That’s quite enough, Adam.” Elizabeth leveled him a stern glance.
Adam’s eyes widened innocently. “Well, you do. Uncle Jonathon says one can never have too many friends.”
“Your uncle is exceptionally wise,” Nick cut in smoothly. “I count myself fortunate to be among his friends, and yours, too, now, I hope.”
Adam gave his mother a smug smile.
“Are you just visiting London, Sir Nicholas?” Christopher considered Nick curiously. “I had heard you lived in America.”
“I did for many years, but England is my home and I have now returned for good.”
“Just in time for Christmas.” Adam glanced at his mother, then leaned toward Nick and lowered his voice. “One can never have too many friends at Christmas, you know, better than any other time of year. What with the giving of gifts and all. I am always happy to have a new friend who might understand that a train is an excellent gift at Christmas—”
“Adam.” A distinct threat sounded in Elizabeth’s voice.
“Or any time at all,” Adam said quickly, then clamped his mouth closed tight, as if to prevent any further suggestions of Christmas gifts from springing from his lips of their own accord.
“I can certainly see where a train would indeed be an excellent gift.” Nick nodded in his most somber manner and tried not to laugh. “At Christmas and all year round.”
“Did you have grand adventures in America, Sir Nicholas?” A light shone in Christopher’s eye. “Did you see Indians?”
“And pirates?” Adam added eagerly.
Nick bit back a grin. “I might have seen an Indian or two. Possibly even a pirate. I should be delighted to tell you of my adventures someday.”
Suspicion washed over Adam’s face. “Someday?”
“Someday soon.” Nick placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word.”
“Aunt Jules says you have made a great fortune in steamships and other interesting things. She came this morning to talk to Mother. She says you are obscenely wealthy.” Christopher studied Nick as if obscenely wealthy could be noted somewhere on his person. “Are you?”
Elizabeth winced. If Nick remembered correctly, Elizabeth’s sister had never been especially fond of him. He wondered what else she might have said to the boys.
Nick thought for a moment. “Yes, I believe I am.”
Adam’s brows pulled together, and he looked at his mother. “Are we obscenely wealthy, Mummy?”
“No, dearest, we are not,” Elizabeth said firmly.
“Are we poor then?” Worry creased the child’s forehead.
“Don’t be silly.” Christopher snorted. “Grandfather is a duke, and dukes are never poor.”
Adam breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I should hate to be poor and live on a shovel and have to eat gruel all the time.”
Nick narrowed his eyes in confusion. “A shovel?”
The boys’ governess stood off to the side and cleared her throat. “I believe that’s a hovel, sir.”
“Of course,” Nick murmured.
“No, Adam, we are neither poor nor obscenely wealthy. However, the state of our finances is not a topic for discussion.” Elizabeth’s voice rang with motherly chastisement. “And one does not discuss money in polite conversation.”
“You do.” Christopher frowned. “So does Aunt Jules and Grandmother and, well, nearly everyone else in the family. Who has money and who doesn’t and all sorts of things like that. It seems to me there is always a lot of talk about people who have acquired a great deal of money or people who have gambled away their money or squandered it irresponsibly on poor investments or women of a questionable nature—”
“Christopher!” Elizabeth signaled to the governess. “I believe it’s time for your studies.”
“It’s always time for our studies when the conversation gets the least bit interesting,” Christopher said in an aside to Nick, one man confiding in another.
“Do you think it’s impolite to discuss money?” Adam gazed up at Nick.
Nick chose his words carefully. “I think there is a time and a place for such discussions.”
The boys exchanged triumphant grins.
“However,” Nick continued, “I also think young gentlemen should always do as their mother requests.”
At once triumph turned to disgust at the defection of the only other male in the room as evidenced by the look on their faces and a bit of muttering. The governess stepped forward to usher them from the library.
Christopher stopped in the doorway and glanced back. “I shall look forward to hearing of your adventures, Sir Nicholas.”
“And soon,” Adam added. “You promised.”
“And I never break a promise.” Nick grinned. “Especially not a promise made to friends.”
“Friends who like sailboats almost as well as trains,” Adam called over his shoulder, then vanished through the doorway with his brother. Whoops and laughter echoed in the hall behind them.
“They are rather precocious, aren’t they?” Nick said mildly.
“They remind me very much of Jonathon at that age.” Elizabeth smiled wryly. “I thank God every day for Miss Otis. She grew up with six brothers and is not overly upset by even the most vile of boyhood pranks. Most of which tend to follow a visit from my brother.”
Nick chuckled. “I can well imagine.”
“I’m certain you can.”
“Will Adam be receiving a train for Christmas then? From St. Nicholas perhaps?”
“We shall see. A train is just one of many items on a rather impressive list the boys have compiled, and they will not receive it all. I do not wish them spoiled. Still.” She smiled apologetically. “I find it difficult to refuse them much of anything.”
“It is Christmas, after all.” And Sir Nicholas could definitely be depended upon even if St. Nicholas failed. Surely it wouldn’t be all that difficult to find a toymaker and purchase a train and a sailboat for good measure. For both boys. “And exceptions should be made. For Christmas.”
“Perhaps for Christmas. Now then.” She adopted a brisk manner, no doubt to hide her nerves, and moved to the table they’d sat at last night.
Elizabeth had been distinctly on edge and noticeably restless since the moment he’d arrived. He’d caught any number of odd, speculative glances thrown in his direction. She could have simply been nervous about this introduction of her sons, but he doubted it. They were fine young men, and she was obviously well pleased with them.
No, he’d wager a great deal that her demeanor had little to do with her children and everything to do with last night. It was an excellent beginning.
She waved at the table. “The account books are here, but there is little new since yesterday. A few househo
ld bills that I have already dealt with. I daresay, it should take you no more than a minute or two to peruse them.”
“We shall see,” he said in his most businesslike manner, trying not to cringe at the pompous note in his voice, and moved to the table.
“Yes, we shall,” she said under her breath and clasped her hands together. The woman was most definitely nervous. “I have been giving a great deal of thought to our conversation of last night.”
He stifled a grin, leaned back against the table, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you?”
“To be honest, I have thought of little else and,” she paused, for courage perhaps, “I have a confession to make.”
“I cannot wait to hear it.”
She met his gaze directly. “I would have kissed you back.”
He grinned. “That’s scarcely a confession.”
“Yes, well, perhaps you will appreciate this more. I…I…I misspoke last night.”
“Misspoke?” This was excellent.
She drew a deep breath. “I do remember everything that passed between us ten years ago.”
“Do you?” Excellent indeed.
“I do. And furthermore, given that,” she squared her shoulders, “I don’t think simply kissing you back would have sufficed.”
“I scarcely thought it would,” he said with a smug grin, then realized the import of her words. His smile faded. “You don’t?”
“I do not. Not last night and not today.”
“Today?” He straightened and stared, any previous sense of satisfaction swept away by confusion. She couldn’t possibly be saying what he thought she was saying. “What do you mean, ‘today’?”
“Today, this very moment, right now.” She stepped toward him. “I think my meaning is perfectly clear.”
He stepped back. “Not to me.”
“Come now, Nicholas.” She moved toward him and again he moved away. A slight smile played across her lips. A smile of, well, seduction. “You said you wanted me. Like a ship.”
“Not like a ship.” This was ridiculous. “Not like a ship at all.”
“A company then. Or a stock. It scarcely matters.” Her voice was low and inviting. “In point of fact, you want me. I’m the only thing you ever wanted that you didn’t get. After a great deal of thought—‘due consideration,’ that is—I’ve decided you can have me. Or perhaps it is I who can have you.”
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