скачать книгу бесплатно
“Emily, listen—”
Instead of affording him any chance to explain the inexplicable, she interrupted. “Is the chamber ready where you would have me stay?”
He sighed and shook his head. But the gesture obviously did not agree with his answer. “Yes, the room should be aired by now,” he admitted.
“Then, under the circumstances, I suppose manners force me to thank you for your hospitality,” Emily said.
“I am compelled by the same to assure you that you are quite welcome. Use the bellpull if you need anything. There are no maids about to dance attendance, but someone eventually will come to bring whatever is lacking.”
She swept past him as regally as she could manage and left the library. Whatever was lacking, he had said. That was just about everything she could think of, but certainly nothing a tug on a bellpull would provide.
Chapter Two
Nick had known she was not married, of course. His subtle questioning of her brother Joshua aboard ship had relieved that worry before they had begun the voyage home.
The earl had written six years ago that Emily and the pockmarked postmaster were about to be wed. Nick had stayed drunk for an entire week, then vowed with all sincerity to forget the vicar’s daughter and her faithless ways.
His father had lied, of course. But Emily had not answered Nick’s subsequent letter wishing her well. Obviously she had wanted him to believe that she was settling into a marriage with Jeremy Oldfield.
Nick knew nothing good about the postmaster, who had been a self-righteous bore and a bully in their younger days. Those traits frequently grew worse with age and Nick had worried about Emily because of that. However, his relief in discovering she was unattached was now marred by what she had just declared about his ruining her chances for a happy life. He had never once considered that.
Perhaps she had overdramatized the case because his leaving had made her angry. Emily always had possessed a talent for exaggeration. That quality, too, might have increased with age.
As for aging, either Emily had changed or his memory was faulty and his dreams had ceased to do her justice. The years had enhanced rather than dimmed her beauty. Blond flyaway curls framed a lovely heart-shaped face that had grown even more exquisite without its girlish roundness.
Her figure looked fuller, more womanly. To be expected, of course, that she would mature and surpass the prettiness he remembered.
And her mouth, so expressive in both joy and anger, stirred him still. He had almost given in to the urge to plunder it as he had done so eagerly that one time. But at the last moment he had refrained from doing so. She obviously wouldn’t thank him for it now.
Her eyes were the same clear and guileless blue, framed by softly curling lashes. However, the absolute trust and adoration he had seen in them once had vanished completely over the years. The absence of that hurt more than he would have believed.
In truth, it made him soul sick. If what she said was true, his attraction to her might have ruined her life. If only he had been more circumspect, less thoughtless, but at twenty-two he had not fully realized the impact his interest in her would have on her future.
Now, taking what she had said into consideration, he could see how none of the men in the county would dare trespass on property the earl’s son had publicly claimed and therefore declared off-limits. And that is exactly what he had done with that kiss.
The very next day, on the earl’s orders and under determined escort, a furiously struggling Nicholas had been set aboard a packet for India to commence learning the vagaries of trade as his father’s representative.
Apparently his son engaging in business seemed far less demeaning to Earl Kendale than having him inappropriately engaged with a village girl.
The old man’s warning, issued not an hour before the ship sailed, still rang in his ears. “If you return and insist upon continuing your suit of this little adventuress, I shall ruin her entire family. Loveyne will find himself and his two brats upon the road without a quid among them and with nowhere to go.”
A horrifying prospect for anyone.
His father had continued. “She’s a fair-looking bit of fluff, Nicholas, but not for you. Not even as a playfellow. As long as you stay away, she will be safe.”
Nick had objected vehemently even as he realized he had no choice but to do as instructed. The earl’s threat had been clear and concise.
His father had laughed. “You’ll be set free as soon as the ship’s well under way. When you are, you keep my bargain in mind, my boy. Picture our eccentric, good-hearted Vicar Loveyne destroyed by the dismissal. He knows nothing else but tending his little flock, now does he? Even if he does, I’ll see him turned off by anyone who hires him. And the girl, Emily? That little baggage can take to the streets.”
The earl leaned nearer as if to impart a secret. “Trust me, I’ll see to it that she does. And that skinny brother of hers looks just the right size for sweeping chimneys. How old is he now, five or six?”
Nick had known from experience that his father never bluffed nor made idle threats. The Earl of Kendale had possessed the power, the means and the motive to destroy the entire Loveyne family and he would have done so without a qualm.
Though his father had never applied cruelty just for the enjoyment of it, he certainly never blinked at crushing anyone or anything that did not suit him.
Nicholas had his orders. He was to learn shipping from his father’s factors in India, see a bit of the world, then come home and wed appropriately. Wed Lady Dierdre Worthing. His father had left him no choice about the first commands, but against that last, Nick had rebelled. He had stayed away from Bournesea and had never seen the earl, nor replied to his correspondence since that day.
Apparently his father had solidified plans for the marriage during his absence, Nicholas recalled with a frown. On arriving home three days ago he had found the contract stating the terms of Nick’s betrothal to Dierdre Worthing.
His own name had been forged below Dierdre’s. Nicholas was assuming her signature was genuine. For all he knew, she could be as oblivious to the entire matter as he had been. He had not heard a word from her in all this time.
Maybe she was already wed. Heartening thought, but unlikely. Unless she’d become betrothed and married within the past few months, he would have read of it in the newspapers shipped regularly from London.
His father had risked a scandal with the forgery, obviously counting heavily on Nick’s unwillingness to reveal the deception once he discovered it.
He wished he could attribute his father’s dishonest meddling to love and concern for an only son, but Nick knew it was borne of a need to master everyone and everything.
If Emily had shown any interest at all today in resuming what had been begun between them with that kiss seven years ago, Nicholas would have been perfectly willing to pursue it. But she had not. Quite the contrary.
For Emily, their former attachment, innocent as it had been, had proved disastrous. She must hate him. Because of his interest in her, she was not married and probably never would be. She had declared quite fixedly she was through with men altogether because of him. He knew Emily’s determination once she made up her mind.
But Emily, a governess? He shook his head. Vintley was no saint. Nicholas remembered him well, and doubted the lecher would treat her with the respect she deserved. The very thought of her assuming such an unguarded position was unacceptable and that was all there was to it.
Emily had made her decision, however, and Nicholas knew he would never be able to sway her on the matter of taking any financial assistance from him to prevent her working. He had to admire her for refusing his offer of support, even while it angered him that she did so.
Even an offer to renew the close friendship they once enjoyed, she would view as suspect. And probably would fling something at his head for good measure if he persisted. He would, anyway, of course. How could he do less? He’d missed her terribly.
He smiled wryly at the thought of her temper. For a girl reared as a vicar’s daughter, Emily did possess a fiery spirit plus impulsive and headstrong ways. That had drawn him to her like a lodestone. He had always admired her fiercely independent nature, her zeal, her ready laughter and lack of artifice. She never did a thing by half measure, his Emily.
Not his Emily, he reminded himself with a heartfelt sigh. And she never would be. That chance was gone, destroyed by old Kendale’s malice and Nicholas’s fear for her future. Perhaps it was just as well, for Emily’s sake, since he had fully intended to marry her at the time. Ah, the vagaries of that youthful passion.
Now, however, he could not envision her in the company of those he would find it necessary to socialize with in London when he took his father’s place in the House of Lords. No, such a structured and demanding life would have made her miserable.
He considered Dierdre Worthing. She had often indicated that she felt some attraction to him, Nicholas reflected. As he recalled, she had been an accomplished flirt. Of course, she’d been quite young at the time and he had never taken her seriously.
Emily was younger. Nick shook off the thought.
As the daughter of a baron who was very wealthy and influential, Dierdre would have the training required to fulfill the role of a countess.
All he need do was accept the betrothal and refrain from exposing his father’s forging of the document. If he did not, then explaining everything to Worthing would be awkward, to say the least. And Dierdre, if she knew about it, would be hurt to think he did not want her and never had. She might have been waiting these seven long years for him to return and marry her, with her father and his assuring her that she and Nicholas truly were betrothed.
Maybe he should go through with the marriage. There really was no point in thwarting the old man’s wishes and causing a scandal just for the sake of revenge. That would be childish and unproductive.
Nick was fast approaching thirty and must begin to think of marrying and producing an heir. What difference did it make whom he married as long as she liked him reasonably well, was of suitable birth and could bear him the requisite son?
His only goal in life now was to undo the wrongs his father had wreaked on others. Nick wanted to gain the respect of his peers for himself and the title. As earl, he meant to do his duty as he understood it, not to follow his father’s self-serving example. He would live with honor.
But would it be honorable to marry Dierdre when he felt absolutely nothing for her? Not even a special liking? He had outgrown his belief in love, of course, but lust was a fact. So was admiration and the need to protect. Unfortunately, he did not feel any of those things for Dierdre Worthing.
He could scarcely recall what she looked like. Yet he had never forgotten Emily’s face. Her sweet, trusting face turned up to his for that kiss that had changed both their lives for the worse when his father had heard of it. Nick knew very well that he still entertained feelings for Emily.
“No,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head, glaring at the drawer in which the false document lay waiting for its implementation. “I cannot wed Dierdre.”
But something had to be done about the document. He needed to straighten out the matter with Worthing as soon as possible.
Even more imperative to his peace of mind, Nick knew he had to do something to gain Emily’s forgiveness for the problems he had caused her. Perhaps if he explained face-to-face why he had left as he had, and then stayed away. Would she believe him then? She had obviously doubted his written words.
The door opened and Nick looked up. Wrecker grinned at him. “She’s a goer, that’un, ain’t she?”
“Mind your tongue,” Nick warned him. “Leave it hanging out like that and you’re likely to lose it.”
“Beg pardon, m’lord.” His gap-toothed grin grew wider. “Y’know, she woulda made straight for th’ lad again just now?” He poked his beefy chest with his thumb. “I stopped her. She were stompin’ all the way up the stair, mad enough to curse if she knew how.”
Nicholas stood and rounded the desk. “I’ll go up and see to her.”
Wrecker laughed slyly. “Aye, m’lord. I would do just that if I was you.”
Clearly the man knew Emily was forbidden game for himself and the rest of the men. But it was also quite apparent that he thought Nicholas intended to take advantage of her unchaperoned presence.
“The lady is my guest while we wait out the quarantine,” he explained. “She is the vicar’s daughter, Joshua’s sister, and a dear friend of mine. One hint of an insult to her or behind her back, and the perpetrator shall answer to me. And I shall not be kind. Is that understood?”
Wrecker shrugged, still smiling. “Aye, m’lord, I understand. We all do.”
It was no use. Through fear, he could control what they said, but the men would think whatever they would. There was no alternative to keeping Emily here, however, despite the harm to her reputation. If he released her and she fell ill, the sickness could spread.
He promised himself he would only go to her room this once, just to reassure her again about Joshua’s welfare. Then he would leave her alone. The less he saw of her, the fewer rumors would fly when this was over. But some would fly, he thought with resignation.
Emily tore off her shawl and bonnet in pure frustration and flopped down upon the bed.
The lavish appointments within the countess’s chamber did not surprise her. She had been here before, long ago, and nothing much had changed. The rich, rose fabric of the bed hangings and the draperies had faded a bit, the ornate walnut furniture could use a good dusting, but the room was essentially the same as when she had visited here at her father’s side. How privileged and grown up she had felt at the time, being allowed inside. Now, of course, she realized she had lent propriety to the vicar’s visit to Nicholas’s invalid mother.
The room felt at once both comforting and discomforting. It provided a familiar haven, yet emphasized the vast gulf between her station and that of a noble lady.
What a fool she had been to think Nicholas would ever have chosen such as her to wed. To his credit, he had actually never mentioned marriage. But he had made her believe that he loved her. She’d had to guess what he had in mind then, and to her dismay, she had wrongly assumed that his intentions were honorable.
The present indignity was not to be borne, she thought with a forceful groan. That hulk of a seaman who accosted her just now and prevented her going to Joshua, had all but accused her of coming here for the worst purpose imaginable.
“See to his lordship if ye must heal summat,” he had said suggestively. “Poor sod could do wif a bit o’ sympathy, hard as it’s been for ’im.”
Emily would have dearly liked to slap that silly grin off his whiskered face if she could have reached it. The wretched giant.
Before the sun set this evening, the entire population of Bournesea would believe Nicholas was keeping her here for immoral reasons.
Was he? Had Nicholas considered it? Did that rough-looking man who had stopped her from seeing Josh know something that she did not?
No, she didn’t really believe Nick would deliberately ruin her. Though he had very nearly done exactly that before he’d left for India, he had been scarcely more than a boy at the time. And half the fault of it had been hers since she had not in any way discouraged him from kissing her.
To be perfectly honest, she continued to treasure the memory of that passionate kiss in the deepest, most secret part of her. Wicked of her, she knew, but it was all she had of him or would ever have. She had loved him with all her heart.
A good thing she had replaced those feelings with dislike. Not hate, however. No matter how hard she tried or how much she wanted to, she could never bring herself to hate Nicholas.
Blaming him for the results of the kiss might be highly unfair, but it had helped her get over the fact that he had not loved her. And now it would serve to keep a chasm between them that sorely needed to be there.
If she were honest, she had to allow that he could do little else in this instance but force her to stay at Bournesea. Given a choice, she supposed she would have recommended the quarantine herself.
She couldn’t leave poor Joshua here to mend on his own. Nor would she dare risk carrying the cholera outside these walls. Still, she hated being put in this dreadful position.
The soft knock on the door surprised her. She scrambled up from the bed and quickly brushed her hands over her hair. “Yes, who is it?”
Instead of a verbal answer, the door opened.
“Nick—I mean, my lord?” she gasped. “What are you doing? It is highly improper for you to be here!”
He had not bothered donning a coat for the visit. Employing all her will, she directed her gaze away from his exposed neck and muscular forearms.
He hesitated a moment, then stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind him. “I have told you that you are not allowed in the men’s quarters, Emily, yet you would have gone straight to Joshua only moments after I said that. Have you no care for your health?”
“I needed to see him,” she argued. “And you did say he was nearly well.”
“Nearly, but still prone to the occasional bout of fever and other symptoms,” he explained. “I hope it will not be necessary to lock you in this chamber to prevent your disobeying my orders.”
She gaped at him in disbelief. “You would not dare!”
His determined expression left no doubt in her mind that he would.
“Very well, I shall wait to visit him, but not for long,” she conceded reluctantly, turning away and peering out the window to keep from looking at Nicholas. The very sight of him stirred emotions she had believed well conquered years ago.
She jumped when his strong hands clasped her shoulders. Hands she remembered all too well. Hands that had caressed her face, threaded through her hair, held her close against him, fingers flexing, tempting, making her wish…
“I promise on my honor that Josh will be hale in no time. Have I ever lied to you?”
With that question, fury suffused her body and she whirled on him, breaking his hold on her shoulders. She shoved against his chest with both hands. “Yes!” she hissed. “Yes, Nicholas, you have lied, by deeds if not words! How do I know you are not lying now? How could I ever trust you to care for my little brother when you had no thought to care for me?”
“I never lied to you. I regret that you cannot forgive me for leaving the way I did,” he said curtly, “but I tell you again, I was left with no choice. And once I was gone, it was necessary that I stay away. For both our sakes.”
Emily took a deep breath, her lips firmly closed on the words she would have spat in anger. Necessary, he said. Necessary, because he had always been betrothed to another woman, long before he had kissed Emily. Necessary, because he feared she would expect more than he could have righteously offered. Necessary, because he did not and never had loved her.
He stepped closer and touched her face. In horror and fascination, she watched his mouth lower to hers. Only at the last moment, did he place the kiss upon her cheek instead of her trembling lips.
Oh, sweet heaven, the gentleness, the heat of that mouth. It had been so long since he had touched her, held her. His tantalizing scent clouded her mind and his breath warmed her face. Fire rushed through her veins, obliterating all caution. He had not changed. She had not.
“My dearest Emily,” he whispered, breaking the spell he’d woven as effectively as if he had doused her with a bucket of icy water.
She shoved him away. “Dearest, is it? Get out of this room, Nicholas. Do it now!”
He had the audacity to look surprised. “What the devil is wrong with you, Em? I only meant to—”
“I know exactly what you meant to do!” She backed away, her arms crossed over her chest, wishing they could shield her heart. The foolish thing had barely begun to mend from the last time he broke it.
