Dangerous Loves Romantic Suspense Collection (9 page)

“Ah, carriages are approaching,” she said cheerfully. “The house will soon be filled with activity.”

If he went through the house and out the back way, he might be able to sneak up on whoever was hiding in the woods. Perhaps those eyes belonged to the cove who’d put that burr in Zeus’s saddle.

“My lord?” Lady Waver said, her cheerful smile fading. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” He started toward the front door. “Please greet the incoming guests and give them my apologies.”

Lady Waver caught his arm. “My lord!” she cried. “You don’t plan to greet them yourself? Surely your guests are expecting—”

He slipped free from her grasp and gave a brisk bow. “I trust you will manage well enough without me, madam.”

The guests would have to make do without him. He had a shadow to catch.

* * * *

Nigel returned from his search of the woods to find that the carriages had already emptied of their passengers. Other than the ripped piece of wool he’d found hanging on a tree branch, there were no other signs to suggest there had been an intruder on the property, no other evidence to prove he hadn’t imagined his being watched.

Just to be safe, he sent Guthrie, a rather burly footman, to thoroughly search the woods and report anything suspicious.

Perhaps he should also find George and—

“I will not have it!” a round tone sang out just as he entered the front hall.

Damn and blast. The guests
.

Nigel forced a grin and forged forward, prepared to play the friendly host.

Lady Waver stood in the middle of the entrance hall, her face red as a cherry. “But—but Lady Dashborough, you cannot mean to
leave
.” She waved her stout hands in the air while blocking the path of three ladies who were trying to push their way out the front door.

Nigel drew a deep breath. He’d expected trouble, and though the prospect of confronting the formidable Lady Dashborough frayed his nerves, he was not unprepared.

“Ladies,” he said, as he strode quickly across the hall to greet the unhappy women.

Lady Dashborough was the first to turn around. “Lord Edgeware, how dare you?” She punctuated each word and then thrust her chin in the air. “We are leaving.”

“Leaving?” he echoed. He leaned against an interior column and let a crooked grin form. “Why ever for, my lady? You’ve only just arrived.” He knew the picture he created, the untamed bachelor with a gleaming smile.

Lady Dashborough, still a beautiful woman in her own right and one of the most influential gossips in the
ton
, stepped toward him. Her hunched shoulders relaxed a good three inches.

“There has to be a mistake,” she said, her voice softening to almost a whisper. “Your hostess has shown that Mercer creature to one of your guest rooms. We cannot be expected to consort with a woman of…of…
that sort
. I cannot imagine how the Baneshires manage to allow
that thing
to live in their home, much less allow it to act as chaperone for their daughters. I, for one, would have swiftly kicked it out and let it fend for itself in the stews where it assuredly belongs.”

Nigel gave a quick nod to Lady Dashborough’s two daughters before taking the grand lady’s hand in his. “I am sure you would have done just that. I can understand why you’d feel offended by her presence.” He led her to the far end of the hall and lowered his voice. “But then if Lady Mercer knew of the secret liaisons you and a certain married duke, a married duke who has openly sworn his devotion to his lovely wife, have been carrying on for nigh three years now, she might feel just as offended to be included on the same guest list as you.”

Lady Dashborough sucked in a great deal of air. “I have never broadcast that relationship. There is no scandal.”

“No?” he said smoothly. “No, I suppose not. At least, there won’t be one as long as a certain influential wife of a certain duke remains ignorant.”

“Are you threatening me, Edgeware?”

Nigel loathed both threats and confrontations. But since the success of the week depended on the guests actually staying for the house party, he was forced to play the clever bastard.

“Yes, my lady, I believe I am.”

George had been right. His friend had spent the previous week gathering all sorts of nasty bits of information against the invited guests from a variety of underworld sources. Nigel had protested but was now glad George hadn’t listened.

“Shall I have Lady Waver show you and your daughters to the guest chambers I’ve selected specifically for you?”

Lady Dashborough smiled through tight lips and her voice sounded strained. “Yes, my lord, that would please me.”

He gave a deep bow. “Until this evening then, my lady.”

The first crisis of many, no doubt, had been quite smoothly handled. Satisfied, he turned his mind to Elsbeth. Lady Dashborough was not the type of woman to keep her dislikes silent. If she and the Baneshire family had arrived at the estate at the same time, he could only suppose that Elsbeth was upstairs licking her wounds and planning her escape.

He stopped a footman who was descending the grand stairs. “Is Lady Mercer settled in the chamber I’ve selected for her?” he asked, thinking to invite her and her cousins into the red parlor to take an early tea. Women often required extra attention and reassurances when faced with a difficult situation. He doubted Elsbeth was any different.

“No, my lord,” the footman said.

“She is not?” Had she run off so quickly?

“Lady Mercer had asked for directions to the gardens. I showed her the way myself, my lord. And then a few minutes later, I showed Lady Olivia the same path.”

“Very good,” he said, and raced back down the stairs and out the back door into the estate’s private gardens.

The soft scent of daffodils greeted him. Beyond the yew hedges, he heard the whisper of voices and the rustle of skirts. Steeling himself for the worst—namely, a river of tears—he straightened his coat and began a brave march forward.

“Ho there!” George’s voice carried across a grassy field.

Nigel waited for George to trot across the field. “What detective work have you been pursuing today?” he asked.

“Me?” George shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just a brisk trot around the grounds.”

“Looking for evidence, perhaps?” Nigel pulled out the scrap of material he’d found in the woods and handed it to George. “Something like this?”

George studied the woolen fabric.

“I believe someone was stalking in the woods, watching me. He eluded me when I went in pursuit but not without tearing his cloak.”

“Strange,” George said, giving the cloth even more attention. “I spoke to Charlie on the wooded path between our houses a few minutes ago. He arrived this morning with three young friends. They are looking to invade your house party.”

“Charlie?” He was surprised to hear that his cousin, the younger Charles Purbeck, would leave the excitement of the London Season for what promised to be a staid country gathering.

“He’s set up at the dowager cottage.”

“Fine. I’ll send a footman to invite him and his friends to dinner. The younger women will be grateful for the company of men closer to their age.”

George frowned. “Are you not the least concerned that Charlie or one of his friends might be wearing a torn cloak?”

Nigel considered the idea and quickly dismissed it. “Charlie’s harmless.”

George frowned, not looking at all convinced.

“Granted, Charlie has an uncommon talent for mischief,” Nigel conceded. “But I assure you, he would never do anything to harm me. We were raised together. We survived his father’s rages together. We’re as close as brothers.”

“Of course you are,” George shook his head and smiled. “I’ve been working in the shipping business too long, I suppose. I no longer trust anyone.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Anyhow, I don’t have time to worry about this now. I’m tending to a fire on our other front.” He explained the situation and was more than a little relieved when George followed him into the gardens. His friend had a certain way with women, handling the fairer sex with a rogue smile and a smooth tongue.

Without too much searching they found Elsbeth and Olivia in the folly, a sham ruin celebrating the goddess Athena. The round Greek temple sat in the midst of one of the garden’s many ponds.

“My ladies,” Nigel said, as they crossed the arched bridge and joined the women in the shelter of the marble stone structure. “Please allow me to introduce my friend and neighbor, Mr. George Waver.”

Olivia stepped forward. Her smile rivaled the sun reflecting off the pond. Elsbeth stayed behind her cousin. Her features remained as still as the stone ruin. At least her sapphire eyes, though hard and wary, were clear. No evidence to suggest she’d been weeping. Perhaps Lady Dashborough’s complaints had not reached her ears.

George greeted the women using his extraordinary charm and began to recount a silly adventure Nigel and George had shared as lads. “We were convinced the head gardener was a French spy and had set out to uncover the truth,” he said and then launched into his tale with vivid descriptions.

George’s presence seemed to put the young Lady Olivia immediately at ease. Elsbeth was more reserved in her reaction. Her wary gaze, Nigel noticed, kept straying away from George and in his direction. Nigel crossed his arms in front of him, hoping to strike a languid pose.

What was she thinking? What did she find so unpleasant about him that she would have to regard him so?

George must have noticed Elsbeth’s odd behavior for he stopped mid-story. “Lady Olivia, would you care to stroll the bulb garden with me? The flowers are near their peak, and the light is perfect for viewing.”

Olivia quickly agreed and latched onto George’s proffered arm. “I will see you at dinner, my lady,” George said, giving a departing bow to Elsbeth, who had stepped forward to join in the stroll. “And do not worry after your young cousin. I will have her back to the house in a trice.”

“Very well,” Elsbeth said with a sigh. “I will be waiting for you in our apartment, Olivia.” Her gaze stayed fixed upon the departing couple until they disappeared around the corner of the path. She then turned to Nigel.

“Why do you stare at me so?” she asked in a harsh whisper.

“I don’t understand.” He was quite taken aback at the charge. He took a step toward her. “It was
you
who was staring at
me
. Not that I mind the attention, mind you. At least you are finally taking notice of me.”

“Absurd. Simply, absurd,” she said, as she backed away from him until she’d pressed herself up against one of the far columns.

Her behavior confounded him. “Is it so terribly frightening to find yourself alone with me?” He braved a second step forward. Pursuit of a woman was foreign to him. He was much more used to the role of hapless prey than aggressive predator. And aggressive predator was unquestionably the role he filled now. He purposefully stood between Elsbeth and her escape, making damned sure there was no danger of her fleeing. There could be no seduction if she refused to remain in his presence for more than a moment or two.

“I am not afraid,” she whispered. Her lips quivered ever so slightly as she pressed herself more firmly against the far stone column.

“You believe I will attack you?” Certainly she didn’t think he’d—

“A-attack me?” she breathed.

Ah, she did
.

Her gaze shifted toward the bridge, the only way out of the ruin, and back to where he stood blocking the way.

“I promise that you are safe with me,” he said as he stepped to one side, careful to keep his distance while opening up her escape route. “I spoke with Lady Dashborough. Lady Waver mentioned that she arrived the same time as you. I hope she—”

“Did she leave?” Elsbeth asked before he could explain. “She told me she planned to leave.”

“I’m sure Lady Dashborough told you a good many things she now regrets.” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered how easily the good Lady Dashborough came into line. “She would not dream of leaving
my
house party.”

The news didn’t seem to cheer Elsbeth in the least. “This bodes to be a very long week.”

“And pleasant, I hope. I am pleased you decided to attend.”

“You gave me no choice! You conspired to set my own family against me!”

Despite her fierce scowl he couldn’t help but take heart from her sparking anger. Where she was standing, at the far end of the ruin, the sunlight streamed in and bathed her in the most ethereal light. She could have been the warrior, Athena, returned to earth as lithe as a deer and as strong as a lioness.

A sudden surge of lust nearly stole Nigel’s breath. He wanted this goddess to come to life, this picture of perfection, but he had no idea how to win her. The goddess standing in his garden was as real as the water in the ponds. She would be staying in his home and sleeping in one of his beds. The thought was staggering.

“You’re doing it again,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Staring at me
like that
.” She clutched the locket at her throat. “Like you’re hungry. It makes me uneasy.”

Well hell, that was the last thing he wanted to do. “I only wished to speak with you. I was curious to know how you fared after your encounter with Lady Dashborough.” His voice was purposefully neutral, though he felt anything but neutral toward her and the whole bloody situation.

“I’m fine. Lady Olivia has convinced me that my uncle would be most upset if I showed up at their London town house a few days after leaving.”

“That is a—what did you say? Baneshire is in London?” Her uncle, a very well respected member of the
ton
, was to play a large role in the reformation of Elsbeth’s good name.

“He sends his regrets. He had every intention of attending. But at the last minute found it impossible to leave Lady Baneshire alone. She’s been gravely ill for some time now, you must know. He insisted we come, though. He sent an army of footmen with us to guard the carriage.”

The unplanned change of topic worked well to smooth the worry lines from Elsbeth’s brow. Her tone strengthened and turned quite clipped and frosty. If only the change in topic would do the same for Nigel, and his lust for her could be so easily forgotten.