Pretty Poison (13 page)

“Well, I’d spotted him a time or three and one day I found his tracks in the snow leading into the woods. I decided to follow him, meaning to stay on Emerald Isle, mind you. I’d no intention of wandering onto the neighboring land. No one should have seen me.”

“Let me guess,” he said with a deep chuckle. “You were dressed much as you are now.”

“I couldn’t very well track that buck in a gown.”

“No, of course not,” he agreed. “But somebody did see you.”

“To be sure, it was three somebodies, and not just any old bodies either, but the gossipiest most meddlesome females who ever walked the Eastern Shore.”

“Don’t tell me your father, who surely knew of your proclivity toward men’s garments long before then, was so surprised and outraged by your shenanigans that he dragged you off to England to foist you off on some poor unsuspecting Englishman.”

“Not exactly,” she admitted as she reined in atop a small knoll. “What a pretty view.”

“None of that, Miss Calvert. Don’t even think to change the subject.”

Emily laughed at his high-handedness, at the devilish gleam in his eyes.

“Things would likely have righted themselves had I not jumped into the pond in my unmentionables two days prior, only to come up from the frigid water to find two gentlemen, other than the two in the pond with me, watching from the dock.”

“You went swimming in your drawers with two men?” he demanded.

“Only Nate and Tate.”

“And the two men who watched from the dock?”

“One was the fiancé of one of the aforementioned busy bodies.”

“And the other?” he asked, his voice slow and measured.

“The brother of mine.”

“Your what?”

“My fiancé.”

“You were betrothed?”

“To Peter Marshall.”

“And he broke the betrothal?” There was surprise and anger in his words and Emily wondered who the anger was directed at. Peter for his less than honorable behavior or her for her less than proper behavior.

“He told Da he couldn’t marry a woman so lacking in propriety and common sense.”

“I see.”

“Yes, well, then Maggie’s letter arrived and that was when Da decided to foist me off on some poor unsuspecting Englishman.”

“I see.”

“I was trying so hard to be good, not to be a hoyden, to be all that is proper that I allowed myself to become ill. I was so weak and foolish, so terribly foolish, and then I was a ghost.
The Sleeping Wraith
, just like the papers said.”

“I see,” he murmured again as he jumped from Danny Boy’s back and held up his arms to help her down from Clover. She went willingly into his waiting arms, allowed him to pull her against his massive chest and slowly lower her to the ground.

“Da said Peter was my last chance,” she mumbled against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “Then he said you were my last chance.”

“I am,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck.

“No,” she argued even though she was beginning to believe it.

“I’ve always dreamed of marrying a hoyden.” He whispered before he caught her earlobe between his teeth, gently nipping, and then soothing the sting with his warm lips. “Ever since I was a little boy.”

“Oh,” she gasped.

“I told my mother I wouldn’t marry until I found a woman who swung through the trees like a high flyer.” He trailed fiery kisses down her neck and she arched to give him greater access, loving the feel of his open mouth on her flesh.

“Forget your fortune, it’s your treasure trove of useless knowledge I’m after,” he murmured as his hands burrowed inside her coat to clasp her bottom, kneading and squeezing and pulling her firmly against him.

And Emily was lost. Lost to the warmth radiating from his big body in waves, lost to the heat of his mouth as it latched onto the tender skin at the juncture of her shoulder to torment her with his lips, teeth and tongue. Pleasure speared through her, shivering down her arms, across her chest, to her breasts and her belly and beyond until it became an ache, a throbbing pulse between her legs. She squirmed against him, rubbing, searching for relief.

Nicholas dragged his hands down her bottom, between her legs, grasped her thighs and lifted her, spreading her legs. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, twined her arms around his neck and blindly searched for his lips with her own.

Then he was kissing her, nibbling her lips, driving his tongue into her mouth, drawing her into a kiss so wild, so primitive and hungry that she moaned, the sound like a clap of thunder in the quiet morning. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him, of his heat and his hard body between her legs, of his hands pulling her, pressing her against him.

So this is desire, she thought dimly as she nibbled on his full bottom lip, as her hands burrowed down below the collar of his coat, over his hard back. She felt the muscles bunch and jump to her touch.

“Ah, Emily,” he groaned into her mouth.

She drew back and opened her eyes, found him looking back at her, watched as his lips lifted in a rueful smile.

She pressed one final, hard kiss to his mouth and relaxed her legs, unwound them from around his waist and slid down his body onto her toes.

Nicholas did not release her, instead he pulled her close, tucked his chin against the top of her head and held her pressed to his chest. She listened to the pounding of his heart and the wind whipping through the trees.

“You must let me go,” she finally whispered.

“I can’t,” he replied softly.

Emily braced her hands on his chest and pushed and he released her, dropped his hands to his sides and smiled down at her.

“There, you can and you have,” she said primly.

“For now.”

Emily hoisted herself onto Clover’s back, waited while he mounted Danny Boy and set off toward the house.

“You must not continue to tempt me, Nicholas,” she told him.

“Who is tempting whom?” he asked with a raspy chuckle.

“You must know that I cannot resist your silver tongue and your warm hands. It is not well done of you at all.”

“On the contrary, I think it is quite well done.”

“And what if someone should have seen us up on that hilltop?”

“You would be forced to marry me.”

“You think to compromise me, do you?”

“The thought has crossed my mind.”

“Well, Mr. Avery, you’d best think again. I’ll not be forced into marriage.”

“No,” he agreed thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you would be. But then, where’s the harm? It’s no secret that I’ve my eye on you. No one would be surprised to find you in my arms.”

“True,” she agreed with a rueful laugh. “You’ve not been terribly discreet in your pursuit of me. But you really must desist. In a few days we shall be joined by three additional marriageable misses, and what hope have you to attract one of them if you are constantly panting after me?”

“None at all,” he agreed with a jaunty smile.

“And what will happen to your family when I am gone back to Maryland and you have foolishly ignored the opportunity this coming week presents and find yourself without an heiress to wed, what then?”

“I see your point,” he murmured. “I should not lay all my eggs in one basket.”

“You must spread them about.”

“Share my kisses with all the ladies, you mean?”

“If that is your desire.” Emily attempted to present him with a cheerful smile, but it felt more like a sneer.

“You are my desire.”

“Yes, well, you must get over that. Put it behind you, and look toward securing a wife.”

They rode back to the stables in silence. Emily cast furtive glances at Nicholas to find him looking quite pensive as he rode beside her. She hoped he was thinking about what she’d said, that he would stop his futile attempts to woo her, and focus his considerable charm on the ladies who would be joining the party in a matter of days.

It is for the best
, she reminded herself as she followed him from the stables into the house to find most of Aunt Margaret’s guests in the front hall clustered around the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Chapter Fifteen

“Nicholas!” the exquisite woman exclaimed as she spun around to face the open door.

Emily watched him hurry forward to greet the lady, his hands clasping hers tightly, a welcoming smile upon his lips.

“Lady Bernice, what a pleasant surprise,” he greeted the lovely vision warmly. “We were not expecting you until Saturday.”

Lady Bernice gave a tinkling little laugh before replying, “Mother was convinced that if we did not make the journey today, the weather would preclude our arriving at all.”

“Her Grace is still predicting the weather, is she?”

And then everyone was talking at once, laughing at some joke they all seemed to be privy to about the lady’s mother whose bad knee foretold the weather.

Emily removed her coat, looked down at her snug breaches and mud spattered boots with a grimace, before returning her attention once more to the newcomer in their midst.

Wouldn’t you know it, the lady had red hair. Lady Bernice’s vivid red hair was smooth and sleek, pulled back from her face into a complex arrangement of braids interlaced with pale green ribbons the exact color of her eyes. Her skin was pearly white with a hint of rosy pink on her round cheeks, not a freckle in sight. Her nose was thin and straight over a perfect little cupid bow mouth.

She looked to be about Emily’s own age, but their similarities ended there. Where she was short and slim, Lady Bernice was tall and voluptuous, with a bosom any woman would envy and hips that flared out from a trim waist. She was dressed in the very height of fashion in a long sleeved silk day dress of a yellow so pale it might better be termed cream, with the same light green ribbon trimming the scalloped neckline and narrow hem. On her feet she wore dainty green slippers. Emily imagined that beneath it all she wore luxurious undergarments of silk and lace.

Emily plopped down onto a chair in the corner of the hall and tugged off her muddy boots while the guests began to retreat into the front parlor. She watched as Lady Bernice looped her gloved hand through Nicholas’s arm and laughed up into his smiling face before they disappeared behind the others.

Well, that was surprisingly easy. Nicholas hadn’t even looked at her, not once since he’d seen the lady standing in the hall surrounded by the welcoming throng.

Suddenly weary right down to her bones, Emily rose and made her way slowly up the long curving stair case and down the quiet hall. She found Tilly in her room bent over a hot iron.

“You’re back,” Tilly exclaimed. “Hurry, you must dress. We’ve another guest and she’s a pretty thing, for all that she’s a giant.”

“Yes,” Emily agreed.

“You’ve seen her then?”

“She’s quite impossible to miss.” Emily fell back onto her bed with a groan.

“What are you doing?” Tilly demanded. “Luncheon is in an hour and you need to bathe and I’ve to do something special with your hair. I thought this fine lavender dress would do nicely, makes your bosom look bigger.”

“Oh Tilly, are you thinking to dress me up to compete with that amazing creature?”

“What? That bovine is no competition for you! Get into the bath,” she nodded to the open door across the chamber and the steamy bathing room beyond.

“I’m tired. Just have a tray brought up.”

“And let that one steal your man right out from under you?”

“He is not my man and she’s welcome to him.”

“You listen to me, Emily Ann Calvert,” Tilly ground out between her teeth as she marched over to the bed. “You get your skinny butt into that bath.”

“All right, all right.” Emily held her hands up in surrender as she climbed off the bed. “Good Lord, child, when did you become a harridan?”

“When you lost sight of your wits.”

“I assure you I lost sight of my wits months and months ago.”

“Don’t I know it,” the girl muttered as she whipped off her mistress’s guernsey and went to work on the buttons of her shirt. “And enough is enough, miss. You’ve been wallowing in self-pity all these long months.”

“I have not.”

“Oh boo hoo, my worthless fiancé dropped me flat as a flapjack.” Tilly pushed Emily’s breaches down her legs, drawers and all.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh woe is me, Da dragged me across the ocean to marry a stranger.” Tilly herded her into the bathing room and into the tub.

Emily laughed at the ferocious frown on the girl’s caramel-skinned face.

“Poor opium addled me, I’ve gone and stabbed myself right through the heart.” Tilly dunked her head under the water.

Emily came up sputtering and coughing water.

“Oh, it’s just so unfair, I’ve got a big strapping handsome man wants to marry me.” Tilly rubbed lilac-scented soap into her hair, digging her little fingers into her scalp.

“It’s my fortune he wants to marry,” Emily ground out.

“So what?” Tilly demanded before she dunked her head once more.

“Stop that,” Emily sputtered, water dripping into her eyes. “Are you trying to drown me?”

“Who cares if you use your fortune to catch him? The real trouble is you don’t think you can keep him once you’ve landed him.”

Emily had no argument. It was true. She did not believe for one moment she could ever hope to keep Nicholas Avery. And she would not share him.

“When did you begin to doubt yourself?” Tilly gently rubbed a soapy linen square over her mistress’s back, down her long arms. “You were always so sure of yourself, Em. As long as I’ve known you, my whole life, you never thought there was one thing on God’s green earth you couldn’t do. No matter who told you otherwise, no matter that maybe you shouldn’t ought to be doing them things. You always knew you could.”

Emily leaned her head forward, brought her knees up and tucked her chin against them, wrapping her arms around her thighs.

“I know you think your fight with that little blue bottle changed you,” Tilly said gently. “And maybe it did. But it doesn’t have to be for the worse. You’re still you, Em. You’re still the same fearless girl you always were. Look at how you climbed that tree to save yourself. You didn’t wait around crying and screaming for someone else to save you. And you crawled yourself outta that bottle with nobody’s help. You let that quack stitch you up without that poison, even after Lady Maggie tried to force it down your throat. You’ve led that poor man on a merry chase the last week until you got him dangling on a string just waiting for you to reel him in.”

“I don’t want to reel him in,” Emily insisted. “He doesn’t fit into my world. And I certainly don’t fit into his.”

“Well, hell and damnation, girl,” Tilly cried and Emily smiled to hear her father’s favorite words on her lips. “You got to make him fit into your world. You been bending everyone’s will to your own all your life, you telling me you can’t bend that man’s as well?”

“He won’t be faithful to me.” There was relief in saying the words aloud.

“My mama always said the best way to keep a man in your bed was to tire him out until he just doesn’t have the strength to find another.”

“Really?”

“My daddy never was whispered to be coming and going from any of the other cabins, was he?”

“No,” Emily agreed. Jeb had kept to Pearl’s bed all the years they were together. Emily had always thought it was fear that kept him faithful. Tilly’s mother was a formidable woman, one who brooked no nonsense.

“You ought to talk to your aunt,” Tilly advised. “There’s a lady what knows how to keep her man in her bed.”

“Oh, I’m sure I couldn’t,” Emily giggled just thinking about discussing such intimacies with her aunt.

“Course you could,” Tilly argued. “And wouldn’t she just love to tell you what to do. That woman lives to tell others how to behave.”

“I don’t know,” Emily replied.

“Well, you think on it,” Tilly advised as she wrapped a linen sheet around her lady’s shivering body. “Sit by the fire and I’ll brush out your hair. We’ll never get it dry in time, but I’ll think of something. Maybe we’ll braid it into a coronet.”

“No,” Emily replied. There wasn’t a chance in the world she’d imitate Lady Bernice’s coiffure. “Pull it back with combs and leave it to curl down my back. And not the lavender dress. I’ll wear the green with the black trim I bought in London. My black half boots with the heels and Mama’s onyx drops and pendant.”

“Oh yes,” Tilly breathed. “I think I brought the jet combs. Won’t you look like an exotic bird?”

“I am an exotic bird,” Emily responded firmly.