Scandalous Love (10 page)

A noise intruded on his
senses. Awareness of who he was, who she was, where they were and what they
were doing was instantaneous. He thrust her from him.

She stumbled, flushed
and panting. The regard she turned on him was unfocused, that of a woman in the
throes of passion.

"My reward,"
he said huskily. Knowing he could not remain with her another moment, knowing
that to be caught here would be the ruin of them both, he abruptly turned away
and strode out the door, leaving her standing there, stunned.

He was halfway down the
corridor when he heard her curse him, and then he heard the sound of glass shattering.
He wondered what she had broken, but he could not smile. Victory was not always
sweet.

Jane emerged from her
own bedroom, which adjoined the Earl's, into his. She never, ever slept in her
own suite, but she kept all of her belongings there, and occasionally she did
sit in front of the fire with a novel. Now she paused in the doorway, clad in a
blue silk dressing gown, her expression worried.

The Earl was stripped to
his waist, still wearing his trousers, his feet stockinged. In his early fifties,
he had the lean, hard body of a man who had spent, and did spend, much of his
time in physical labor. He had learned to enjoy hard physical work as a boy
growing up in Texas, and it was not a habit he had ever cared to break. To this
day, if there were a stone wall to be built or a barn to be raised, he gladly
pitched in, as his time allowed. Now, he met his wife's blue gaze, his own
features grim.

She bit her lip, coming
forward. "Whatever is going on between them, Nicholas?"

"So you saw,
too?"

"How could I not
see!? For all that he tried to hide it, the Duke was nearly seething, and
Nicole, I would swear that she was teasing him, taunting him."

The Earl sat on a divan
to remove his stockings. "I have never seen Nicole like this before."

Suddenly Jane's eyes
sparkled with excitement. "Nicholas, she dressed for
him.
She is
interested in
him."

The Earl straightened,
his unusually pale gray eyes sparkling. "You sound happy. Have you lost
your mind?"

Jane stiffened, for her
husband never talked to her in such a manner. "I assure you, all my
faculties are intact."

"I am sorry,"
he groaned, instantly on his feet and pulling her small, slender body into his
embrace. "I am upset, and I was taking it out on you."

She clung to him, loving
the feel of his hard, powerful body, loving him even more than she had when
they had first met when she was sixteen. A lifetime ago—a wonderful lifetime
ago. "Nicholas, we should be worried, but..." She took a breath.
"Can you imagine? Our daughter a duchess?"

Nicholas released her,
incredulous. "Jane, you are not thinking straight at all! The Duke of
Clayborough is betrothed."

"I know that. But
betrothals can be broken."

Nicholas stared at her
very grimly. "Not in this case," he said flatly. "I know
Clayborough well enough. He lives by his family's motto, "Honor
First". Even should he fall madly in love with our daughter, he will
never, ever break his engagement. Instead, he will break Nicole's heart."

"Oh, dear,"
Jane said.

Nicholas turned away,
running a hand through his thick black hair, streaked with gray. "So
whatever is between them, it is now over. The sooner Clayborough returns to
London, the better for us all."

"But you said he is
honorable, and I am sure you are right. One merely has to look at him to know
he is a fine, upright man. He would never do something untoward to compromise
Nicole. We are worrying too much."

Nicholas turned, a wry
expression on his face. "Jane, he is a man. That fact speaks for itself.
Or have you forgotten that sometimes men of honor behave most dishonorably when
the women they love are involved?"

They were both thrown
back to another time, in this very same place, when she was sixteen and his
ward.

"Now I am worried,
Nicholas," Jane said, and she went into his arms.

Nicole pretended to
oversleep, but the moment she heard hoofbeats outside her window she leapt from
the bed to watch her father and Chad riding away from the stables. She bit her
lip nervously, then ran to her bureau, pulling out a loose white shirt and
breeches. Last night she had been furious but this morning she was strangely
excited, almost elated.

Not that she wasn't
still angry, of course. It was the height of arrogance for the Duke to come
there for supper after what had passed between them, after his callous
assumptions about her, his jaded interest in her, and his flat rejection of
her. Much, much worse were the liberties he had dared to take in the library,
with her parents just a few doors away. And if she had the courage to face the
entire truth, there was the matter of her own response to his advances to
consider—she had capitulated to him with nary a word! Just remembering brought
anger, shame and humiliation. Had he intended to humiliate her by seducing her?
Nicole would not be surprised, now that she knew of his scandalous reputation
as a womanizer. Obviously the man had no morals and no sense of honor at all.
Nicole intended to tell him exactly what she thought of his despicable
behavior.

She dressed and flew
down the stairs, knowing she would see no one other than the staff at this
early hour; her mother liked to sleep in until almost eight—which was still
unfashionably early for a lady to rise. Nicole's stomach was in knots of
anticipation, so she did not pause even for a cup of tea. Instead she raced to
the barn and with one of the grooms, saddled up her big, blood bay stallion.

She set off at a gallop.
The early morning air was crisp and cold, promising fall's sudden demise. She
galloped down the drive, then veered off across the lawns, jumping a stone wall
effortlessly. In the next meadow she scattered the sheep and lambs, laughing in
exhilaration, then took another wall in a soaring display of superb
horsemanship. They flew down a path through the woods, stirring up the gold and
brown leaves underfoot. A mile later Nicole pulled the bay up at the edge of
his lawns, in view of Chapman Hall.

Her heart was pounding
wildly in her breast and her cheeks were flushed from the madcap ride. The
stallion snorted impatiently, still wanting to run. "Later," Nicole
said, stroking his warm neck. Eyes glittering, she urged the animal forward.

It was early, but the
sound of carpenters came from the stables, their hammers ringing loudly. Nicole
headed for the house, slipping off of the bay. She tied him to a post and
trotted up the steps, banging the heavy brass door knocker.

There was no answer.

Nicole knocked several
times, growing perturbed. The Duke might not be in, but surely his staff was
there. Yet instead, the house seemed to be vacant, deserted.

Dismay rose in her
breast. Nicole retrieved her mount's reins and strode determinedly to the barn.
Perhaps he was there, inside the stables, overseeing his men. If not, surely
they would know where he was. He had to be here, didn't he?

Leaving the stallion
outside, she stepped within, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The two men
stopped their sawing and banging, turning to look at her. "I am looking
for the Duke," she said, recognizing the laborers as men from the village
of Lessing. Still, their blatant regard made her uncomfortable. She never came
into contact with workers unless she was riding with her father and Chad. She
was distinctly aware of her male attire and being unchaperoned and unprotected.

"He's not
here," said the older man, squinting at her.

The young man
straightened, leering. "He ain't here, but we are."

Nicole gave him a hard
look that warned him not even to think nasty thoughts. "Where is he? And
why is no one answering the door at the Hall?"

The young one, whose
name she thought was Smith, sauntered forward. "Ain't no one there. That's
why, miss."

"No one
there?" she echoed.

"The Duke an' his
staff has up an' gone," the older man volunteered.

"Now why are you so
interested in His Grace?" Smith grinned knowingly.

Nicole didn't hear.
"Gone? Gone where?"

"Back to
London," the old man said.

"Back to
London," Nicole repeated, barely able to absorb this information.
"But when will he return?"

"He didn't
say."

"But while you're
waitin' for him to return, there's always me," Smith said, moving closer.

"Go to hell!"
Nicole snapped, startling both men. She whirled and ran from the barn, still
trying to comprehend that the Duke was gone. She mounted the bay, nudging him
into a fast trot.

Gone!
He was gone!

And there was no
question about it, her heart had sunk right down to her very toes. She was
absolutely deflated.

He had come into her
life so abruptly, and just as abruptly, he was gone. One day there was only her
family, her horses, her books and Dragmore, the next there was the golden,
virile Duke. But now he was gone.

She should be relieved.
She should be happy. She was neither of those things; she was deeply
disappointed.

"What is wrong with
you?" she said aloud. "Have you truly gone mad? He harbors only the
worst intentions towards you, he is about to marry another, and you are mourning
his absence!"

Logic did not vanquish
her strange trembling, nor did it lift her spirits.

She slowed the bay to a
walk when they reached the trail running through the woods. A few minutes later
they came upon the racing brook, and Nicole was assaulted with the memory of
how they had ridden here, and how he had kissed her, touched her. She stopped
her mount, slipping off, and knelt by the stream, touching the icy water.

Life was not always
fair. But she had learned that long ago, so why was she feeling so sorely now?
Why had he returned to London so abruptly? Last night he had said he would be
leaving in a few days. Last night—he had left because of last night!

Nicole straightened,
certain that she was responsible, having pushed him too far. But he had started
it by merely coming to Dragmore when he could have made his excuses. And she
was not one to ever back down from a confrontation, and in this instance, she
had eagerly risen to the occasion, relishing the battle.

What did it matter? He
was not for her, and he never would be. The most she could hope for was more of
his kisses, or worse, to sleep in his bed. At the thought Nicole blushed. Sex
was a topic ladies never discussed but she understood the basics of the act,
having been raised on the estate and having seen a stallion put to a mare once.
It had been shocking but exciting. She had never seen a man naked, but she had
felt the Duke's maleness when he had pressed himself against her, and she could
imagine what he looked like. Imagine what it felt like inside her. Growing very
warm, she blindly stroked her horse's neck, knowing she should be ashamed at
the direction her thoughts were taking. But she wasn't ashamed, not at all, and
that was the entire problem.

Of course, she was never
going to sleep with him in such a manner, it was the height of fantasy to
imagine what she was imagining. Nor would she ever have his kisses again, his
dangerous, smoldering kisses. A lump rose up in her throat, a sense of choking
panic.

She pulled herself
together. "It is for the best," she told her stallion, who was
nibbling on a patch of grass. She mounted abruptly, urged him into a canter,
and did not stop again until she had reached the stable at Dragmore. There she
handed her mount to a groom and hurried back to the house, keeping her mind
blessedly and purposefully blank.

As she passed the dining
room her mother called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. Nicole entered,
surprised to see her mother up and at the table, for she usually had tea and
muffins in her room while dressing.

"Good morning,
Mother." Nicole came in, hesitating, instinct making her uneasy.

"Aldric says you've
yet to eat," Jane smiled. She looked a bit tired, as if she had not slept
well. "Sit down and join me, darling." Jane poured her a cup of tea,
handing it to her as Nicole sat.

"I'm not very
hungry today."

"Are you feeling
all right?"

"Yes, I'm
fine."

"I couldn't help
but notice that you did not go out with your father and Chad today."

"I—I was tired from
last night."

Jane nodded and buttered
a warm muffin, handing half to her daughter. "Did you enjoy your ride this
morning?"

Nicole flushed.
"Sort of."

Jane set the muffin
down, not having taken a bite. "Nicole, where did you go?"