“Congratulations, mistress!”
“Oh, they haven’t accepted them yet, but the letter was encouraging.”
He sucked in a breath as a long-forgotten memory of finding Bree sketching a classical statue of Aphrodite in a park rose to his mind. Years ago, she’d dreamed of designing for the famous pottery. Apparently that dream had never died.
Slipping through the gate, he came up behind her to look over her shoulder at her sketchbook. More than ever, he was humbled by her talent. She had a knack for black-and-white images. He could easily imagine her sketch of Cupid appearing on a Wedgwood vase.
The nurse glanced up and gave a start to see him there, but young Silas broke into a grin and toddled toward him.
Niall pressed a finger to his lips, then leaned over Bree’s shoulder. “Silas makes an excellent Cupid.”
She jumped, then turned to lift an eyebrow at him. “You, sir, are very sneaky.”
“Yes, well, you knew that about me already.”
He tipped his head in the direction of the secluded area where they’d made love the evening before, and she rolled her eyes before returning to her sketching.
“Why have you come here so early?” she asked.
“To watch you draw.”
She snorted. “Somehow I doubt that.”
He laughed. “Actually, I’m here to invite you to join me for an outing.”
Her hand paused mid-stroke. “What sort of outing?”
“A jaunt to Margrave Manor. I have urgent business there, and I did promise to give you lessons in running an estate.”
Her expression softened markedly. “Nurse,” she said to the servant, “why don’t you take Silas over to the fountain and let him throw some pennies in it for good luck?”
“Yes, mistress. He do love throwing pennies, our lad.”
Once they were well away, Bree asked, “What about Papa and your mission?”
Niall took a seat beside Bree and laid his arm across the back of the bench. “We will have to return by evening, since I agreed to play cards with him and his friends again tonight.” He ran a finger down the back of her neck. “But before then, I want some time alone with you.”
“Stop that,” she murmured, though she didn’t move away. “Did you learn anything about the counterfeiting last night?”
“Not so far. Your father and I won, but none of the notes were fakes. I went through them carefully, then sent them off to Fulkham to be sure. I doubt he’ll find anything. Giving counterfeits to tradesmen is one thing; distributing them among one’s friends is quite another. Besides, the card games may not be how your father is passing the notes on. If he’s even the one passing them on.”
“You think he’s innocent?”
“I damned well hope so, for the sake of you and Silas.” When her face clouded over, he changed the subject. “Anyway, I have the whole day ahead of me to spend with my fiancée. And I thought we’d use it productively at Margrave Manor.”
A sigh escaped her. “You know I can’t run off to your estate unchaperoned.”
“Which is why I intend to include your aunt in the invitation. And young Silas, too, if you wish.” He bent close to add in a whisper, “I figure that the lad will keep Lady Pensworth occupied, so I can keep you occupied. If you know what I mean.”
She eyed him askance. “You’re a very wicked fellow, Lord Margrave.”
“Not as wicked as I hope to be once we reach my estate.”
He was rewarded for that rakish comment when she colored prettily. Her blushes never ceased to rouse him. She knew just how to make a man yearn. And he was yearning something fierce for her just now. “Say you’ll go, Bree.”
“Not if you’re planning to be wicked. You promised to behave.” She tapped his hand with her pencil. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stick to your promise. But I warn you—I will hold firm in my determination not to give in to any attempt at wickedness on your part.”
“Shall we place a wager on that?” he said with a grin.
“I never gamble.”
“Then you lead a very dull life.”
Her gaze turned earnest. “I do indeed. And I like my dull life.”
“Do you? Is that why you blush so whenever I threaten wickedness?”
She swallowed. “I just happen to blush easily.”
Even the motion of her throat captivated him. “I never saw you blush with anyone else.”
“That’s because you haven’t been around to see me with anyone else,” she said tartly. “Our first courtship was secret, while our second—”
“So there will be a second courtship, then.”
She sniffed. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that our second courtship is pretend.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Niall, there are still things you aren’t considering.”
The doom and gloom in her voice got his back up. “Like what?”
“Like Papa, for example. What if he’s guilty?”
“What if he is? I don’t give a damn what happens to him after what he did. Do you?”
“No, but I don’t think you’ve considered how it will affect you if he’s guilty. There will be a trial and gossip in the press, and you’ll be part of that. So if you marry me you’ll have to give a damn. As a widow with little at stake, I can weather the scandal simply by retiring to the country and living a quiet life. But that’s impossible for you. An earl must move in society.”
“An earl can do pretty much as he pleases,” he countered. “Besides, my name is already tarred with scandal because of the duel. One more is hardly going to hurt me.”
“That was a duel of honor, which isn’t held in contempt in your circles. But counterfeiting?” When he let out a coarse oath, she added more gently, “You have family you’re not going to want to see suffer if Papa is convicted. And as long as you’re connected to me, they will. Delia can distance herself from her former sister-in-law to a certain extent, but Clarissa cannot distance herself from her brother. Only imagine what effect the gossip would have on her.”
“Trust me, that isn’t the sort of gossip that would faze my sister.” He searched her face. “Or is this another excuse for why we shouldn’t marry?”
“I’m just saying—”
“You told me you’d give me your answer soon.” He rose from the bench to stare down at her. “So is it yea or nay? Because I’m in no mood to continue this dance without knowing where it’s heading.”
“I need more time to consider everything—Papa and Silas and all of it.”
He suppressed a curse. “I’ve waited seven years for this,” he said irritably. “I’m not inclined to wait seven more.”
Heading for the gate, he fought to tamp down his temper. Enough of this. If she thought to drag him about by a leading string, she would be sorely disappointed. He wanted her, but not at the cost of his dignity.
“Wait, Niall!” she cried out behind him.
He halted, then turned to glare at her.
Her expression fraught with uncertainty, she stood up. “If you wish, I shall talk to my aunt about your invitation to an outing, perhaps sometime later in the week—”
“I have to go to Margrave Manor today, Bree. Now, if possible.”
She blinked.
“I told you,” he went on, “my business there is urgent. Will you go with me or not? Because you and I both know that your aunt will do whatever you wish.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “So it’s time for you to decide. What exactly is it that you wish?”
Twelve
Brilliana’s stomach knotted. He was the most impatient fellow she’d ever met.
Sometimes she adored that boldness. And sometimes she wanted to throttle him for it. Because it smacked a bit too much of bullying, and she’d had more than enough of that from Papa.
“I don’t know what I want, don’t you see?” she said. “I’ve never before had the chance to choose.”
“Yes, apparently Trevor c
ouldn’t resist gaining you at the expense of your choice.”
That was certainly a hit direct. And perversely, she felt compelled to defend her late husband. “It wasn’t like that. Reynold loved me. He was upset that his father forced my hand, but he was as trapped as I. If he’d refused to marry me, Papa and Mama would have gone to prison. He couldn’t let that happen. And neither could I.”
Niall snorted. “I gave you the chance to choose all those years ago. You could have chosen me.” He scowled at her. “Instead, you chose your family—your mother.”
“She was ill, and you weren’t. Of course I chose her.”
Apparently that argument held some sway with him, for he let out a frustrated breath. “Damn it, Bree. I hate this.”
“So do I.” She wanted to throw caution to the winds. But the last time she’d done that, she’d ended up with a man who’d fought a duel over another woman. Or so the gossips—and his own father—had said. “Fine. I’ll go with you. We’ll take Aunt Agatha and Silas, and we’ll see what happens.”
It would give her a chance to see how he was with Silas over an extended period of time. And to see if Niall would make a good manager—or help her to be a good manager—of Camden Hall.
To see if he cared about her beyond the bedchamber. So far, he’d said lots of nice things, but nothing about love.
Not that she blamed him. This wasn’t about love for her, either. Because loving Niall was what had landed her in trouble the first time. If she hadn’t fallen so hard for the scoundrel, she might have learned to love Reynold later.
But Niall had spoiled her for any other man. So if she let him court her again, it would merely be because it was practical. She refused to give him her heart only to have it trampled upon again. She’d never survive that twice.
He eyed her warily. “And after our ‘outing,’ you’ll give me your decision about my courting you?”
“Yes.” She supposed she owed him that much. “I promise.”
That seemed to mollify him. “Very well. That sounds fair.” An enigmatic expression crossed his face. “And after our outing, I may be able to . . . help your decision along.”
She assumed he was speaking of using his “wickedness” against her again. “We will have Silas and Aunt Agatha with us. So there will be no wickedness.”
“If you wish,” he said.
That was a noncommittal answer if she’d ever heard one, but it was enough. Because she didn’t want any more seductions. Truly, she didn’t.
You can lie to him, but you can’t lie to yourself.
Oh yes, she could. She’d been doing it for years. “Then I suppose we should go speak with Aunt Agatha.”
His broad smile gave her pause, but she refused to dwell on it. He was going to teach her how to manage an estate. And perhaps from that she could deduce his true character. That was all that mattered.
Or so she told herself.
An hour later they were in his carriage, headed for Margrave Manor. It was just her and Aunt Agatha and Silas. Brilliana had left Nurse behind. But not because of what Niall had said about letting Aunt Agatha be occupied with looking after Silas, and thus unable to chaperone them. Certainly not.
Liar.
“So, Lord Margrave,” Aunt Agatha said. “I understand that you’ve been suffering some financial difficulties at Margrave Manor since your return.”
“What?” Brilliana exclaimed.
When he lifted an eyebrow at her, she belatedly remembered what the gossips were supposed to be spreading around. Drat it, this subterfuge of Lord Fulkham’s grew more onerous by the day.
“That’s what I’ve heard in town,” Aunt Agatha said.
Niall flashed the woman a bland smile. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“I should hope not.” Aunt Agatha stared him down. “I wouldn’t wish to see my niece forced to deal with an estate mired in debt when she already has a struggling estate of her own.”
Brilliana choked back a laugh. Niall was clearly going to regret having invited Aunt Agatha along.
“Surely it’s not ‘of her own,’ ” Niall said. “Doesn’t it belong to young Silas?”
Hearing his name mentioned, Silas, who’d been bouncing happily up and down on the seat beside Niall, crawled onto his lap, then sat staring up at the earl with rank curiosity.
The expression on Niall’s face was priceless. It was obvious he’d never had to deal with a small child, for he shot her a helpless glance, as if to say, What the devil do I do with him?
“Silas, come here,” she said.
Silas simply cocked his head and continued to regard Niall with interest. “Jack.” He held out his hand. “Jack. Jack.”
“I’m sorry, lad,” Niall said. “But my name isn’t Jack. It’s . . . er . . . Margrave.”
Brilliana and Aunt Agatha burst into laughter, which elicited a scowl from Niall.
“That’s what he calls his jack-in-the-box,” Brilliana explained. “He remembers that you helped him with it, so he thinks you can get it for him.”
“Ah,” Niall said. “Sorry, lad, no Jacks here.”
“I told you we should have brought it along,” Aunt Agatha said. “The lad is very attached to it.”
“Literally,” Brilliana said. “And I didn’t want to deal with his catching his fingers in it all the time.”
“What about this, lad?” Niall pulled out his pocket watch. “It makes music just like your ‘Jack.’ ”
He turned it over to wind it, then pushed a button. As a familiar tune from Eine Kleine Nachtmusik began to play, Silas clapped his hands. His pleasure was so infectious, even Niall smiled.
When the song ran out, Silas grabbed the watch, scrambled off Niall’s lap, and brought it to Brilliana. “Jack,” he said. “Jack.”
“Give it here, lad,” Niall said.
“It’s fine—I can do it,” Brilliana said as she wound the music-box portion of the watch and pressed the button. “Looks like ‘Jack’ has become his word for ‘make it go.’ ”
She started to hand the watch back to Niall, but her aunt took it instead. “Is this one of those automaton watches?”
An odd look of alarm crossed Niall’s face, but before he could answer, Aunt Agatha had opened the watch to look at the inside panel. Then she froze.
“What is it?” Brilliana asked.
Aunt Agatha snapped the watch shut and held it out to Niall, her features as stiff as her starched pelerine. “Perhaps you should take this back, sir.”
Brilliana got suspicious when a flush rose over Niall’s features. Snatching the watch from her aunt’s hand, she opened the panel to stare at it. Then she, too, froze as she saw what was inside.
Opposite the exposed inner workings of the watch was a little scene of a naked man standing between the legs of a reclining naked woman and doing that with her in perfect time to the music.
“Oh, good Lord,” she muttered.
She couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was so very awful. The man was freakishly well-endowed, with ballocks the size of oranges and a thing the size of a club. Worse yet, the woman’s breasts were the size of cantaloupes, with badly rendered nipples.
The artist in her rebelled. “Whoever drew this has no sense of anatomy whatsoever.”
Niall’s bark of laughter shook the carriage. “That’s what concerns you about it? The quality of the art?”
“Jack!” Silas cried and tried to take the watch. “Jack!”
She snapped the watch shut and tossed it to Niall. “Oh no, my lad, there will be none of this sort of Jack for you. Not now, not ever.”
Niall only laughed all the harder, while Aunt Agatha muttered, “Good luck, my dear. I daresay Silas will grow up to be as incorrigible as the rest of them.”
As if to prove his great-aunt right, Silas climbed up on the seat next to Niall, crying, “Jack, Jack!”
“Sorry, lad,” Niall choked out. “Your mama says ‘no Jack.’ ” He leaned over to murmur, his eyes twinkling at her, “Not
until you’re twelve at least.”
She bristled. “If you think you are going to corrupt my son as early as twelve, Niall Lindsey, you have another think coming! I will throw that thing away first, I swear.”
A strange look crossed his face. “When we marry, sweeting, you can throw away every watch I own. Including this one.”
Oh, dear, she’d as much as said that he would be in her life when Silas turned twelve.
Then he added, rather gleefully, “Although, to be fair, it’s not mine. It belongs to Warren.”
“Of course it does,” she snapped. “The two of you are peas in a pod.”
“Warren asked me to hide it now that he’s married—at least until he can convince Delia that he’s not the rank scoundrel everyone believes she married. If you want it gone, I’ll give it back to him. Or to Edwin, who gave it to Warren when they were both bachelors.”
Now she was truly shocked. She wouldn’t put anything past Delia’s husband, but Clarissa’s? “Lord Blakeborough made this?”
“No, I think he picked it up in some shop. You know how he likes automatons.”
“Well, he ought to have better taste in them. That rendering is horrendous.”
“Not as bad as some,” her aunt put in. “My late husband had a Swiss one. Dreadful artwork. He used to leave it open to shock the maids, until I gave him a piece of my mind.” She polished her spectacles with her handkerchief. “Men are children, my dear. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”
That sobered Niall a bit. “I don’t think there’s any harm in having fun from time to time. For men or for women.”
Brilliana snorted. “I prefer other entertainments, myself.”
“Right.” A sudden twinkle appeared in Niall’s eyes. “Like a stroll in a garden, where you can observe the bark of the plane trees up close—for your sketches.”
The blatant allusion to their activities yesterday was beyond the pale. Infuriating.
She tipped up her chin. “I do enjoy a good stroll—especially a solitary one.”
He flashed her an impish smile. “I should think you’d have had enough of solitary strolls after the past year.”
“Reynold wasn’t much for strolling, anyway,” Aunt Agatha put in. “My nephew preferred to drink.”
The Pleasures of Passion: Sinful Suitors 4 Page 17
