Someone Irresistible (10 page)

It was fine and smooth, and he held himself back from swallowing the contents in one gulp. God knew he probably needed it.

“Well,” Justin began after once again lowering his body heavily into his cushioned rocker behind the desk. “I suppose you’re here to discuss Nathan.”

Direct and to the purpose. Regardless of the fact that Justin, the son of a distinguished British Lord, remained on friendly terms with a disgraced scientist, Harold liked him. He liked Nathan, too, he supposed, at least he had when he had known him better years ago, but he would never admit that to anyone. His feelings for the man were irrelevant.

After a deep inhalation, and another long swallow of his brandy, he nodded and plunged right into the reason for his unannounced visit.

“Yes, in fact that is precisely why I’m here.” He shifted his stout frame in the chair. “He’s requested a mold of a dinosaur fossil, to be sculpted by my daughter Mimi, and I want to know why.”

Justin’s brows rose fractionally. “I had no idea Mimi sculpted reptiles.”

Harold was afraid of that and he squirmed a little. “From time to time she’s been known to take an interest in the process. She’s quite talented.”

“Indeed. How very fascinating,” Justin replied without further inquiry, neither surprised nor dubious. “But why not ask Nathan of his interest?”

“That would not be appropriate at this time,” Harold answered, mouth thinning grimly. “Quite frankly, I want to know what you know.

I’m concerned for Mimi.”

Justin placed his snifter on the desk and leaned back in the rocker, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.

“I suppose I understand your need to shelter your daughter, Sir Harold, but I’m sure Nathan is not out to do the lady harm.”

“Of course not,” he snapped, annoyed at his own irritation. Justin, however, didn’t seem to notice or mind his surliness, or was simply too gentlemanly to comment.

With hard, aching fingers he rubbed his right temple. “I don’t imagine the man is here to hurt Mimi directly, only that his presence in her life during such a vulnerable time could be”—he waved a wrist—

“distracting for her. She is still a widow in mourning.”

“Ahh.” Justin’s eyes grew wide with understanding. “I see.”

Harold could feel his face reddening, but he refused to look away from Justin’s probing stare. Instead, he pressed for information. “Have you any idea what Nathan is planning?”

Justin blinked, then reached once more for his brandy, gazing down at the liquid for a moment as he swirled it around in the snifter. Harold wondered if he were stalling or simply attempting to organize his

thoughts. He hated his suspicions.

“He’s only confided a little in me, Sir Harold.” Justin said at length,

“and none of it had much to do with Mimi.” He took a sip, eyeing his guest again with shrewd, narrowed brows. “But his final intention is to attend Professor Owen’s dinner party on New Year’s Eve.”

Harold felt a chill creep under his skin. “For what purpose?”

Justin took a long sip of his drink, swallowed, then licked his lips.

“I’m not at all certain of the details, but I believe he wants, in front of a score of paleontologists, anatomists, and selected dignitaries, to expose the man who ruined him.”

Sir Harold went still to the bone, his brandy snifter cold in his hand.

Impossible. Nobody would be that brazen, including Nathan Price.

“He told you this?” he asked, his throat unnaturally scratchy.

“In so many words, yes,” Justin admitted with a slight nod, his mouth turned down. “In a method unknown to me, he’s planning to expose the man who set him up to fail at the Crystal Palace opening.

Most everyone who was at the opening will also be at the dinner party, as I’m sure you know.”

“Including us,” Harold mumbled aloud.

Justin leaned forward as he lowered his voice. “Including us. But we have nothing to worry about since neither you nor I stole the jawbone in

‘fifty-one.”

Justin’s tone implied warning, but Harold ignored it, his mind racing with uncertainties. Sitting a little straighter in his seat, he then, in two quick swallows, finished off his brandy and placed his glass on the desk in front of him.

“Will his… scheme work?” Harold asked skeptically, his voice low.

“I’ve no idea. He didn’t give me the details, as I said.” Frowning, Justin added, “Have you any idea who took the jawbone, sir?”

Harold jerked back a little at that bold query, totally unprepared for it. “No ideas that matter now,” he replied at once. Seconds later he let out a long, solid breath to add, “None of it matters now, actually. I don’t see how the man intends to prove anything. And how will he get an invitation? Owen certainly won’t invite him, and he couldn’t possibly arrive unannounced for dinner. I know he’s not on the guest list.”

Justin placed his forearms on the desk, turning his snifter around in his hands, the creases in his frown deepening as he concentrated on the clear glass at his fingertips. “I’ve agreed to take him as my guest.”

“That’s absurd,” Harold quickly bellowed.

Justin shook his head and looked back at him. “I don’t know who

ruined the man, Sir Harold, but somebody did. That’s obvious.

Nathan is a friend, and if there’s some way I can help him, I will. I don’t care what Owen thinks at this point. I didn’t steal the jawbone, so I’ve nothing to lose by bringing Nathan with me. If you didn’t steal it, neither should you. The only ones who could possibly be injured by this would be Nathan and the person who purposefully destroyed his reputation. If Nathan wants to take the chance, then I’m willing to assist him.”

Uncomfortable in his thoughts, Sir Harold stared at Justin for seconds longer, then stole a glance around the room, pretending to take particular interest in the large charcoal watercolor hanging over the mantel, the picture of it a blur.

“Have you any idea what his intentions are regarding Mimi?” He knew that came out a bit too rushed and plagued with worry, but he couldn’t help exposing his concern. She was his daughter.

Justin drew a deep inhale before replying. “I’ve no idea.”

Harold turned back to his host, his gaze now penetrating, probing for untruths. “He’s said nothing about her?”

Now he saw a flicker of amusement on the younger man’s features—a twitch of his lip, a subtle thinning of his lids—passing almost too swiftly to notice. However, it took a long moment of deliberation before he answered.

“He did say that he found her lovely, Sir Harold, but then so do I, and I have no intentions toward her.”

Quite a letdown when he’d hoped for more, but it’s all he should have expected. A statement in answer shedding light on absolutely nothing.

Harold cleared his throat. “You’re saying then that the man has intentions toward her?”

Justin looked surprised. His brows lifted as he sat back a little. “I said nothing of the kind.”

“I see.” He tapped his painful, arthritic fingers together in his lap.

“Then I suppose I won’t worry in her behalf.”

“I know of no reason why you should,” Justin replied very properly with a tilt of his head. “If nothing else, Nathan is a gentleman. That he finds her a beautiful woman is no wonder, but he won’t take advantage of her. That I can promise.”

Sir Harold believed it, but he knew Mimi. She was attracted to the man, as he and Mary had discussed briefly upon his return, and Harold was quite afraid it would be Mimi taking advantage of Professor Price, not the other way around. That would never do, and he would put a stop

to it if he could. The core of his trouble, he realized, was going to be convincing Mimi what was best for her and their family. He’d never been able to do that well. It was times like this that Harold truly wished her mother was still alive.

“Well then,” he said, subdued, “I suppose there is nothing more to say. Thank you for the brandy, Justin. It was very fine, indeed.”

“It has been my pleasure,” Justin returned, standing as Harold did, taking no offense in his guest’s quick departure. “I shall look forward to seeing you at the New Year’s Eve party, then. It will be a smashing success, I believe.”

“Yes, and a night to remember, I’m sure.”

Justin chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nathan knows what he’s doing. Although I’m not privy to the details, the unfolding of his plan may be the highlight of the evening.” He dropped his voice to a deep murmur of caution. “The man is smart, Sir Harold. I’d venture to say, even with his common blood, he’s smarter than the rest of us.”

That’s what I’m afraid of

“I shall take your good word for it.” He nodded once to his host.

“Until the party then, Justin.”

Justin nodded back. “Until then, sir.”

Harold made his way to the front of the house, retrieved his overcoat and hat, then walked onto the porch, pausing a moment as the butler closed the door behind him.

A light drizzle of rain had developed and droplets tapped his shoulders and hat, the dark, low cloud cover making the day seem later than it was. Gloomy. He shivered from the cold dampness in the air, then took the stairs slowly, one at a time, to the busy street where he would hire a hansom cab—if one was available with the steady rain.

He’d rather ride, if he could. The walk would be long and tiresome with his joints aching as they were. Funny, how the pain he felt seemed trivial now with his mind centered on something that could prove perilous to his beloved daughter and his own good name.

« ^ »

I
t was going to be a long, hot day, Nathan feared, and it wouldn’t be because of the weather. Sitting in Mimi’s studio, on her plump settee, he watched her gather tools to begin their work—or rather,
her
work. It was an interesting process, watching her in action. And a somewhat erotic one. She glided across the floor in a plain but tightly waisted gown of thick gray muslin, her hips gently swaying, her breasts pushed up and out by an obviously well-designed corset, her silky hair caught up in a neat chignon at her crown. Still, he tried very hard to disassociate himself from his bodily urges, though that was difficult to do when they made him physically uncomfortable. It had been ages since he’d been alone with a woman, so close, on a daily basis.

He’d arrived at her townhouse just a few moments ago, at ten minutes past ten—fashionably late, which would have made his mother proud, but to him was strictly a matter of arrangement. He didn’t want to appear as if he’d bow to Mimi’s wishes, but he didn’t want to keep her waiting, either. She was a demanding woman—an enticing, demanding woman. A combination he had trouble reconciling.

He was surprised by how anxious he’d been to get started in her home today as well, especially after his rushed departure of the afternoon before. Sir Harold’s unexpected appearance had shaken him up, though. He hadn’t anticipated leaving her side so early, at least not before luncheon, but he just couldn’t let an awkward moment pass without action. And he couldn’t, right now, look Sir Harold in the eye without betraying his bitter emotions. He wasn’t ready for that. Soon, yes—but not now.

It was Mimi the woman, however, who stirred his blood this morning. Her individual scent had drifted his way the minute he’d walked into her workshop. Such a base initial reaction to being in the same room with her again had made him practically snort with shame.

He was no better than an animal, which would no doubt give credence to the obscure theory that man and apes were somehow related. Apes were affected by scent, sniffed each other of habit. Right now, sitting in her warm studio, on her softly cushioned settee, staring at her gently sloping backside, Nathan felt the overpowering urge to rise, walk toward her, grab her around the waist—from the back, so he could press himself against her bottom—place his face in the crook of her neck, and sniff her. He squirmed in his seat from his libidinous thoughts. He’d never noticed the way a woman smelled before, at least not in a positive way. Mimi made him think unusually, and he didn’t like it. His constant musings of her were appalling because they were just so totally,

unexpectedly arousing.

“So what did your father say about your new sculpting project?” he asked to break the quiet, and further, to turn his mind to more practical matters.

She smiled vaguely, though she didn’t look at him as she concentrated on the materials in front of her, placing instruments in order on the ugly brown table. “I only told him what was necessary. Not everything.”

“Meaning?”

She raised her shoulders negligibly. “Meaning that he now knows you’ve hired me to sculpt, in his name—”

“What?” he chimed in, incredulous and sitting forward.

She ignored his outburst as if she expected it, still looking away from him as she tacked two of the Megalosaurus drawings of yesterday onto an easel.

“I told him you’d learned somewhere in the field that I sculpted and you have a function to attend for which you need a sculpture.” She paused and glanced at him, her gaze roving briefly down, then up his body before she looked away again. “I didn’t think it was necessary to tell him you’re blackmailing me, Nathan.”

That hit him right in the stomach. He really shouldn’t be so swayed by her words, though, and it annoyed him that he felt such sympathy for the woman he’d put in a particularly tight spot both with family and professionals. He really couldn’t understand her reaction, either. He’d expected her anger, pure outrage, maybe even hatred for attacking her father’s name in an attempt to prove the man was responsible for his failing. But she wasn’t angry at all, and that, Nathan had to admit, confused him. Then again, she’d said she felt sorry for him when he’d lost his social and professional status. She was thoroughly confident in her sculpting ability, and perhaps that confidence extended to her desire to prove him wrong. This in itself would account for her rather relaxed demeanor around him. Feeling suddenly agitated by his wandering thoughts that explained nothing, Nathan stood again and moved closer to her.

“Tell me what you intend to do here,” he said, crossing his arms over the front of his white woolen shirt.