Suzanne Robinson (31 page)

Nick rushed to the door Georgiana had just slammed, but the duke scrambled to his feet and yanked his arm.

“You leave my daughter alone.”

Nick was about to knock Clairemont aside when Lady Lavinia grabbed his arm.

“Young man, you’ve made a mess of everything. I’m beginning to think I should have shot you when you first galloped up the drive.”

“But I didn’t expect to …” Nick bit his lisp and winced at the pain from the cut on his head.

Lady Lavinia stood back, waving reflectively with a black lace fan. “You abysmal young fool. Don’t you know by now that girl loves you more than her life?”

All he could do was stare at the lady and swallow hard.

“Do you, in your most fevered imaginings, think that a duke’s daughter remains in a house where a young man accosts her and makes free with her virtue unless she’s hopelessly enamored?”

Around him he heard the duke, Evelyn, and Prudence
all gasp and chatter at once. His head was swimming, and his eyes felt as if they’d swelled to the size of goose eggs. Without warning the duke shoved his face in front of Nick’s.

“If you say a word about your dealings with Georgiana, I’ll put a price on your head.”

“Sod off,” Nick said. He shoved Clairemont aside and rushed from the drawing room.

He was halfway through the saloon before he heard Meredith call him. Dallas caught up with him at the doors to the terrace.

“Clairemont threatened to come after you, but I convinced him he’d only get another fist in his gut. Before you go to Lady Georgiana, I want to talk to you.”

“Keep away from her, Meredith. I won’t be as nice to you as I was to the duke.”

Dallas held up his hands. “Upon my honor, sir, I have no intentions toward Lady Georgiana.”

“See that it stays that way.”

Withdrawing an envelope from his inner coat pocket, Dallas smiled and handed it to Nick. “Why do you think I’m here, Ross?”

“How should I know? You were bloody secretive about your connection to Threshfield, and you let me come all the way over here when it was your family that was involved.”

“But I don’t know them, Ross. I’m American. To me they were mere names, and I had no wish to present myself on behalf of Jocelin only to be mistaken for a poor relation in search of charity.” Dallas’s glance slid away from Nick. “And in any case, I didn’t wish to explain myself or my past to anyone. Ludwig Hyde’s death made such privacy impossible for me.”

“Look, Meredith, I don’t care about your damned toff ancestors. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

“Not yet,” Dallas replied as he offered the envelope he’d been holding. “Jocelin wanted me to give this to you.”

Nick gave Dallas a distrustful glance before opening the letter.

I’m taking a chance, old chap, but Liza says I’m right. I think you’ve formed an attachment to my sister. I also think you find it impossible to admit your love for fear of Georgiana’s refusal. I know you, Nick. You’d rather suffer in silence than cause me pain
.

Nick felt the blood drain from his head. He’d been right—Jos didn’t want him for Georgiana. Clenching his jaw, he read further.

What astonishes me is that you could share with me what we’ve shared and not know how honored I would be to call you brother. And I would consider it the greatest of gifts if you loved and married my dear Georgie
.

There was a bit more, but he could hardly take in what he’d already read. Nick slipped the letter back into the envelope and cleared his throat as he glanced at Dallas.

“Well, strike me blind.”

“From what I’ve seen, it’s unnecessary. You’ve been acting as if you’ve been wearing a blindfold since you arrived.”

“Stow it, Meredith.”

Turning on his heel, Dallas walked away.

“Meredith,” Nick said reluctantly.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“It was nothing, sir,” Dallas said in his soft drawl that slid gently over every consonant. “I think you
might find Lady Georgiana by the lake. I shall endeavor to keep the duke from harrying you.” He smiled and went back into the drawing room.

Nick stuffed Jocelin’s letter into his waistband and rushed out of the house. He shivered in the night chill, but running to the lake warmed him. Georgiana wasn’t there, nor was she in the fishing pavilion or on the Palladian bridge. He didn’t think she’d go to the grotto without a horse. He stood on the bridge glaring at the moonlight dancing on the water and tried to think of where she might go. Then he snapped his fingers, burst into a run across the bridge, and plunged into the wood.

His lungs were heaving by the time he reached the edge of the trees that surrounded the clearing. He slowed and walked into the open, approaching the small Greek temple. Two dark figures stood between a pair of columns. They were huddled together but broke apart when he stalked over to them.

“Who have you met this time?” he snapped. He reddened when the maid Rebecca curtsied to him, ogled him for a moment, and disappeared down the gravel path that led to the house.

Georgiana turned her back to him, her head held high. He noticed that Rebecca must have supplied Georgiana’s cloak. Feeling like a fool, Nick mounted the steps and addressed that regal figure.

“Sorry, love.”

She turned her head slightly, and the moonlight illuminated her high forehead and the roundness of her cheek, making him catch his breath.

“I suppose the darkness has made me brave,” she said. “It’s certainly made me see things I didn’t want to see.”

“What do you see?”

“That all your gallant protests about not wanting to disgrace me with your low birth are a ruse to hide the truth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She turned so that he couldn’t see her face.

“You don’t know it, but I’m a great prize to you,” she said. “The common thief has stolen the virtue of a duke’s daughter. Don’t tell me you’re not proud of that. But as for marriage, well, you could have anyone, so why settle for a clumsy giant of a woman when you could have a delicate, wellborn girl who is much more womanly? A girl who doesn’t have odd tastes and a desire to minister to urchins rather than serve as your decorative trophy.”

Nick swore and spun her around. Grabbing her arms, he made her face him. He caught a whiff of lavender as he said, “Now who’s being a—what was it you called me?”

“A snob?”

“A snob.” Nick drew her close so that he could see her expression. He berated himself when he saw the tears running down her cheeks. “I am proud.”

Pain flashed across her face.

“I’m proud to have won your love, young George. And I don’t make any sacrifices I don’t want to. Loving you is no sacrifice. Bloody hell, woman. We’ve both been running from each other because of hurts we suffered in the past. It’s time we stopped. Now, what’s this about a giant?”

“Oh, it’s of no consequence.” She hung her head.

“Right.” He studied her for a moment. Then, with one swift movement, he swept her up into his arms.

“Mr. Ross!”

He grinned at her and spun around in a circle. “There ain’t any giants around here.”

“Put me down.”

She gasped as they whirled around and around. When she shrieked to be let down, he stopped and set her on her feet. She wobbled and almost fell, so he picked her up again with ease. She goggled at him in astonishment.

“There,” he said. “Do giants get spun around like a child’s top?”

“I … Nick.”

The word was like a hot Texas wind, warming his blood. It shot stinging arousal through his veins. His smile vanished, and one arm dropped her legs. Holding her with the other, he let her slide down the length of his body until they were standing pressed close together.

“You said my name, love.” He flattened his hand on her back and pushed her so that her breasts swelled against his chest. “I warned you about that.”

She lifted her gaze to him and said clearly, “I hadn’t forgotten.”

Nick barely heard her for the rushing sound of his blood. Bracing himself with his palms against cold stone, he pressed her body between it and his own. He covered her mouth with his and felt the yielding softness of her breasts and the stiffness between his legs. He hadn’t touched her in so long.

Exploring her malleable lips, he felt her nails dig into the flesh on his back. Then her hands touched his hair. She turned her head.

“Your wounds.”

“What wounds? Say my name again.”

“Nick.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Nick.”

He skimmed his teeth over her bare shoulder and began to draw up her skirts.

“Nick.”

“God, don’t say it again or you’ll drive me to—”

“No,” she said, placing a finger against his lips. “Rebecca said Aunt Livy told her to ready the plunge bath tonight.”

Nick was kissing her finger and repeated the words without thinking about them. “Plunge bath.” His lips stilled. “Plunge bath?”

Without another word he picked her up and walked quickly into the temple. With each step the heat in his body grew, and the ache between his legs turned to pain as he hurried down the steps to the plunge bath. He smelled jasmine but barely noticed the warm gold light that cast watery reflections on the walls.

In his haste and need he ripped expensive black lace. His fingers trembled as they worked at lacing and yanked down petticoats. His vision narrowed to a field of creamy flesh. Only the shock of water sloshing around him distracted him for a moment.

Warm liquid enfolded him even as Georgiana’s arms wrapped around him. His flesh surged, made sensitive and buoyant at the same time. Tense with arousal, he lifted Georgiana, and they floated, their bodies shifting against each other with each teasing little current. She suddenly lay back so that her body floated before him, her breasts rising from the water. Her legs locked around his hips, and she arched her back, pressing against him.

Uttering a strangled cry, Nick lunged at her, submerged with her. He watched her hair float around her like black silk under the water. Then he drew her toward him by her wrists and surfaced, holding her body tightly against him, careful to avoid her healing wound. He kicked hard, bringing them to the steps that descended into the water. He planted his knees on a lower step. Georgiana’s bottom fit on an upper one, and he surged against her while her legs wrapped tighter around him. She braced herself and lifted her hips. Nick felt water churn around him as he moved against her.

His hands found sensitive, slick places. His mouth followed until he plunged beneath the surface to find her. When he needed a breath, he surfaced to nip at her breasts as they bobbed in front of him. He could have played with them forever, but her hand found him and squeezed, then pulled him. He answered her urging and plunged into searing, tight heat.

He was conscious only of her body encasing his and of water churning around them, faster and faster. Great waves splashed out of the bath, sloshing over the floor. They frothed and foamed as his movements grew more and more violent. When Georgiana gave a watery shriek, he arched his back and jabbed hard, adding his cry to hers. As they reached fulfillment, he fastened his mouth on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he stood in the water, ramming her hips against his.

Once he regained his senses, he gripped her tightly, eased onto his back, and floated with her on top. They remained there, a joined island of flesh, floating in a dreamy gold haze of contentment.

•    •    •

Georgiana slipped her arms into the bodice of her gown and turned so that Nick could fasten the numerous tiny buttons at the back. Her body still tingled from their lovemaking, and she could see the flush on her arms and chest. Nick finished the last button, came close, and kissed her bare shoulder. Surfacing from her cocoon of serenity, she felt the heat of his lips and descended into a pool of sensual fire. His voice summoned her from its depths.

“You’re sure this is what you want, love?”

“I forbid you to ask me that question when you’ve so ably proved you’re certain of what you want.”

“It’s just that I’m not sure you realize the consequences of marrying me.”

Twisting around, she linked her arms around his neck and rose to kiss him. “Oh, my goodness. Do you think I’ll have to give up the season, and all those fascinating balls I’m so attached to?” She put her hands on her cheeks in horror. “Oh, dear. Do you think I’ll have to give up calls and making inane conversation? How shall I live?”

“Wait till it happens, then you’ll see.”

“Oh, bother Society. Neither of us has the time for or interest in balls, calls, and shooting things.”

“And what about your father?”

“Blow my father!”

Nick threw back his head and laughed. “Bloody hell, in another week you’ll be dropping your
H
’s.” He grew serious. “We’ll have to set your father straight, love.”

“Don’t worry. Once he realizes how debauched
and depraved I am, he’ll drag the Archbishop of Canterbury out of bed to marry us. Anything to preserve appearances.” She looked into the depths of his eyes, nearly getting lost in the sparkle of blue and indigo. “Are you certain you want to marry into a family full of shallow and pedestrian fools?”

Settling her cloak on her shoulders, Nick murmured, “I want to marry you, and Jocelin and Liza are the only family we need.”

Georgiana bent to pick up an envelope.

“What’s this?”

Nick plucked it from her fingers. “Jocelin’s idea of diplomacy. You’ll be happy to know he’s in favor of our marriage.”

“So he sent one to you too,” Georgiana said. “I think Liza had a hand in this.”

“It’s like her to be direct and send a letter tackling the problem,” Nick said.

“And it’s like Jocelin to phrase the thing so diplomatically.”

Nick rubbed his arms as if he was cold, and Georgiana threw her cloak over his shoulders.

“No,” he said. “You’ll get cold.”

“You’ve heated me up, Nicholas Ross, and you know it.”

He sat down suddenly on the steps leading from the ground floor to the plunge bath. “I’m a mite tired.”

Georgiana rushed to him and examined the cuts and bumps on his head. “You shouldn’t have fought with my father. Look at your poor head. It must ache and sting fiercely.”