Intriguing Lady (18 page)

“She had one that involved me?” he prompted helpfully.

“Yes. I realize that you might instinctively reject any suggestion of prophecy, but I felt I should warn you. Mrs. Ashley dreamt that Stephen Davenport challenged you to a duel. The comte put Stephen up to it. Mrs. Ashley is convinced that the comte will do everything in his power to harm you.”

“I must thank you for the warning. Although, if we are to be honest with each other, we both know that has been the comte’s intention since we met in France.”

Roberta nodded unhappily. “But I don’t think I really believed it until Mrs. Ashley recounted her dream.”

“Why do you think your uncle was so reluctant to involve you in this affair?” he asked gently. “The comte is a very dangerous individual and seeks only one thing—the destruction of England. It’s my task to see he doesn’t succeed.”

“Then I’m sure he won’t,” Roberta replied with simple honesty. “I’m sorry I interrupted your evening. I realize now that you are abundantly aware of the constant danger facing you.” She started for the door.

“Miss Rushforth…Roberta.” His warm voice arrested her progress, and she turned to face him. “I appreciate your concern more than you realize. I’m afraid that, because of the nature of my work, I haven’t allowed myself the luxury of having friends—except for your uncle, of course. I know what I’m doing is right, but it sometimes becomes lonely. Consequently, I live for the moment, because for me, there may be no tomorrow.”

Roberta was filled with compassion for him. She knew vaguely how he felt, for she had suffered a similar feeling of isolation in Switzerland. She walked toward him slowly, smiling sympathetically. When she reached him, she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Won’t you accept me as a friend as well?” she asked in a whisper. “I would never betray you.”

He put his arms about her slender waist and crushed her to him.

“Dammit, dear Roberta,” he responded hoarsely, “the trouble is I want more than your friendship.”

She looked up at him quizzically and in a detached manner noticed a small scar above his right brow. She touched it gently.

“How did you get that?” she asked.

“I fell off my horse when I was four, and struck my head on a stone. I remember I had a headache for days after.”

“It must have been dreadfully painful to have created such a lasting impression,” she whispered sympathetically.

“It doesn’t compare with the pain I feel now,” he said and touched her nose lightly.

Roberta held her breath. She suddenly felt extraordinarily vulnerable. She sensed his need for her yet was uncertain what he wanted, or what he meant by the pain he was suffering at the present.

“Forgive me, my dear,” he said, “but there is something I must do.”

His arms tightened about her, and he brought his mouth down on hers. She melted in his embrace, unable to fight the desires his kiss awakened. She felt his tongue probing the inner softness of her mouth. She responded, tentatively at first, and then with increased passion when she realized how pleasurable it was to touch his tongue with hers. When he broke away to kiss her behind her ear, she pressed herself against him. Her finger instinctively sought the nape of his neck, and she massaged it lightly.

His hands roamed her body, moving slowly down from her shoulders to the small of her back. He traced the contours of her slightly rounded hips, bringing her to unimagined heights of ecstasy as he did so. Again she responded, and he groaned with pleasure.

When her legs started to tremble, he lowered her gently onto the sofa. She lay unresisting and pulled his face down to hers. They kissed again, slowly this time, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Suddenly she became aware of his hand on her breasts, and she shivered with delight. Then, before she knew what had happened, he moved away.

He stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity, then his cynical laugh penetrated her dazed mind. Before she could stop him, he stood up.

“Lord only knows what madness seized me, Roberta,” he said. “I hope you will believe me when I say it will never happen again.” He reached down and helped her to her feet. “You’d best straighten your clothes, my dear, before we are interrupted.” He smiled ruefully and moved to the sideboard to pour himself a large drink.

Roberta felt a profound sense of disappointment and sadness at his words, not the shame and embarrassment she expected. “Oh, my dear Nicholas, what a futile waste it all seems,” she said as she readjusted her dress. “If you won’t accept anything else from me, will you at least agree to accept my friendship?” she asked, unable to leave him on such a desolate note.

Sir Nicholas nodded. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “Don’t look so forlorn, my dear Roberta,” he added, “else my resolve will weaken. You will be thankful, one day, that I found my self-control in time.”

She laughed shakily and departed quickly, her mind as well as body in complete turmoil.

It was a long time before Sir Nicholas moved. The smell of Roberta’s perfume had pervaded the air, and he felt her presence keenly. He filled his glass again and drank deeply.

He had thought himself above falling in love, yet by the time he had downed his sixth brandy, he finally acknowledged he wanted to marry Roberta Rushforth. He laughed derisively at this thought.

When Jenkins appeared an hour later to inquire if Sir Nicholas was ready to eat, he found him sprawled on the sofa in a drunken stupor, the empty decanter by his side.

C
hapter
14

Roberta returned to t
he carriage to find Polly weeping uncontrollably. When they finally reached Grosvenor Square, Roberta ordered Polly to bed and told her to stay there for the rest of the evening. And then, deciding to do the same thing herself, she mounted the stairs to her own room.

“Excuse me, Miss Roberta,” the butler said when she was halfway up, “Lord Bromley would like to see you.”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she responded wearily, and wished she could refuse the summons. She wasn’t ready to face anyone yet.

Fifteen minutes later, after she had changed her rumpled gown arid repinned her hair, she found Lord Bromley seated at his desk, reading a dispatch.

“Aha, Roberta!” he said without looking up. “Take a seat; I won’t be long.”

She sat primly on the edge of a leather chair. She knew her uncle’s moods well and could judge from the tone of his voice that he was displeased about something.

The rustling of papers finally ceased, and when her uncle rose and faced her, his expression was troubled.

“I suppose Nicholas has told you of my decision,” she said, unable to bear the silence any longer. “I’m sorry if you think I’ve let you down, Uncle, but the truth is, I find the comte’s attentions too awesome. I’m sorry to be so fainthearted and even sorrier that I refused to believe what you said of him earlier.”

Lord Bromley shook his head. “I originally wanted to see you to applaud your decision,” he said. “When Nicholas told me of it last night, I felt vastly relieved. However, in light of the disturbing news I have just received from Williams, I’m afraid you have jeopardized your own safety. Why, in heaven’s name, did you call on Nicholas this afternoon?”

“I—I—”

“No, don’t bother me with petty excuses,” he interrupted testily. “The reason is not important; only the fact that one of the comte’s men followed you is. In view of your comments to the comte last night that you found Nicholas’s attentions an irritation, how will you justify your visit to his lodgings, should the comte ask?”

“I didn’t think of that,” she murmured contritely.

“Then it’s as well for you that
I
did. The comte is not a stupid man, Roberta, and if you see him again, he will find a way to ferret the truth out of you. That is why you will write to him this very minute to say you will be unable to see him as planned. I am sending you to the country for a while.”

“But Uncle, I do have a plausible reason for my visit,” she said quickly, for although she was unwilling to encourage the comte’s attentions, the thought of being banished to Oxfordshire was equally abhorrent. “Really, I do. One the comte will believe without question.”

Lord Bromley shook his head. “Don’t even waste your breath, for nothing you say will cause me to change my mind.”

“Please listen to me,” she pleaded. “Can’t you see that the comte’s suspicions will be aroused if I suddenly disappear? I don’t mind seeing him if I’m properly chaperoned.”

“Oh, very well!” he said irritably. “Tell me your reason.”

“It’s quite simple, really. I discovered that Polly was being hounded by one of Nicholas’s servants, and I went to put an end to it. Poor Polly was in such a state, her work was suffering.”

“Is that the truth?”

“Not exactly, but it will suffice. Oh, Uncle, don’t you see? The comte would never question that explanation. In fact, it would please him to think that Nicholas’s servants, as well as Nicholas himself, are totally without honor.”

He eyed her shrewdly for a moment. “The idea is not without merit, I’ll say that much,” he remarked in grudging tones. “I’ll think about it. But no matter what my decision is, if you behave so thoughtlessly again, I will send you to the country immediately. I simply cannot allow you to create unnecessary difficulties for Nicholas.”

“I won’t; I promise.”

“Still and all, you are not to go for that ride with the comte, even if Mrs. Ashley agreed to go with you. Receive him here, by all means. If he presses for your advice on the horses, take Williams outside with you and examine them in the square. That should be sufficient hint that after his behavior last night, you are not anxious to encourage his suit.”

“You are so very sensible, Uncle. I will do as you suggest.”

She smiled and kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, dear Uncle. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As tired as she was, though, sleep evaded her. Every time she closed her eyes, first Stephen’s face, then Sir Nicholas’s, rose in front of her.

Was the woman who had felt so disgusted by Stephen’s offer to become his mistress the same one who had lain on the sofa with Sir Nicholas? she wondered.

By rights, she should be filled with shame for having allowed Sir Nicholas to touch her so intimately. But she wasn’t. She had wanted him and would have given herself gladly. Yet what sort of woman did that make her? For she knew that, had Sir Nicholas taken her, he wouldn’t have offered marriage.

The answer, she told herself wearily, must be that love was a deeper emotion. And Stephen had defiled the love she felt for him, by his offer. The attraction she felt for Sir Nicholas was not love; therefore, it made it easier for her to accept the fact that she desired him.

“I don’t know.” She sighed unhappily. “Perhaps, like Sir Nicholas, I lack the ability to sustain a lasting feeling for anyone.”

Finally, near dawn, she drifted off to sleep.

It was past ten the next morning before Polly managed to rouse her, and even then, Roberta showed an unusual reluctance to rise.

“The Frenchman will be here before you’ve completed your toilette, Miss Roberta. And Mrs. Ashley has been asking for you. She said it was urgent.”

Roberta lay for another five minutes with her eyes closed and then swung her feet out of bed. “Ask Ashley to come in, Polly, please, and then be so good as to fetch me a cup of hot chocolate.”

She sat down in front of her dressing table and was lazily brushing her hair when Mrs. Ashley entered.

“Good morning, Roberta; how are you feeling? I was worried about you, my dear. Perhaps you should stay in bed. It’s not like you to be so reluctant to greet the day. You look pale.”

“Please don’t fuss, Ashley,” Roberta begged. She knew her companion meant well, but she was in no mood for chatter. “As I told Polly, I didn’t sleep very well. I’ll be all right in a while.”

Mrs. Ashley surveyed her dubiously for a moment. “Well, if you’re certain about that, for there is something most disturbing I must discuss with you. Lord Bromley tells me you accepted an invitation to go for a drive with the comte.”

“No…
no,” Roberta interrupted. “I’m not going.”

“So I was given to understand. Even so, I can’t understand why you didn’t mention it to me.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Ashley. I’m sorry if my thoughtlessness has upset you.”

“I can only think that you knew I would oppose such a jaunt,” Mrs. Ashley continued, heedless of Roberta’s interruption, “which I was forced to tell Lord Bromley, in case he thought I had been remiss in my duties. I must insist that you discuss your plans with me in future.”

“Where is my uncle?” Roberta asked wearily, unequal to the task of staying Mrs. Ashley’s tongue.

“He went out just after breakfast, with someone who looked like Sir Lacey. In fact, I must remember to ask Lord Bromley if it were indeed he.” She broke off when she saw that Roberta was paying no attention, and then added with some asperity, “If only Sir Nicholas would be more dogged in his attentions, I’m sure that dreadful Frenchman would be discouraged.”

“You are forgetting, Ashley, that Sir Nicholas’s interest in me was a sham.”

“It’s a pity, for I find him to be exceptionally worthy. I wouldn’t have believed him capable of the thoughtfulness he displayed at Lady Winthrop’s.” She broke off as Polly entered with the hot chocolate. “I’ll await you in the green salon,” she added before departing.