* * *
During dinner, Elliot watched Fernbridge and Nina at the other end of the long table. He was sure Fernbridge had requested Nina be seated next to him.
Fernbridge said something and smiled.
Nina returned the expression.
An uneasiness settled over Elliot. A disquiet that might have more to do with jealousy than he wished to admit.
“Lord Ralston?”
He peered at Lord Chambers, who sat across from him. “Forgive me, Chambers, did you say something?”
The earl glanced up the table. His old gray eyes settled on Nina, and his lips twitched. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
He frowned at Chambers. He knew what the man implied. That Elliot was besotted over a woman who was clearly looking for a husband, not a widow looking for nothing more than an affair. If he knew of Elliot’s finances, he’d understand.
Is that all that attracts you to her? Her dowry?
If he answered truthfully, no. He enjoyed Nina’s company. And the kiss they’d shared was etched into his brain. When Talbot had first mentioned Nina’s name, something inside Elliot had sparked. Desire. Lust. Was there any difference between the two? In his mind, yes. He’d lusted after women—felt a physical yearning to join his body with theirs—but desire implied more. Something deeper that did not always include sex. He could have easily approached Penny Granger. The American had shown an interest in him, yet he’d wanted Nina from the start.
He glanced back up the table. Nina’s brows were pinched together, and he realized he was frowning. Of course, of all the people in the room, she would be the one astute enough to notice something bothered him—to see right through the carefree façade he tried to erect. Unsettled by his own admission, he forced a smile and began a conversation with Chambers.
An hour and a half later, the gentlemen retreated to the smoking lounge, while the ladies went to the drawing room.
Elliot took a slow draw on his brandy.
Fernbridge approached. “The way Lady Nina handled her horse was truly remarkable today. I don’t think I’ve seen a finer horsewoman.”
Elliot nodded. On this point, he and Fernbridge agreed.
“I think it only fair I let you know I intend to pursue her. She would make a fine duchess.”
Somehow, Elliot had known that was coming, but he hadn’t expected the duke to be so forthright. Fernbridge’s words were quite telling. He’d said a fine duchess, not a fine wife or companion. He wanted to tell him to stay away from her, but that would only cause the man to try harder.
“Though she told me she doesn’t enjoy the hunt, I’m sure I can get her to appreciate it. She seems born for the sport.” Fernbridge blew on his signet ring and brushed it against the lapel of his coat, polishing it.
Already the pompous arse wanted to change her—to bend her toward what he took pleasure in instead of accepting her for the enchanting woman she was. Elliot tried not to scowl. Briefly, he contemplated telling Fernbridge of Nina and his scheme. The man would walk away. He’d not like to feel he was being manipulated, but Elliot couldn’t deceive Nina that way. He wanted to win her hand, but he’d not resort to anything so low.
The men started exiting the smoking room.
Fernbridge set down his glass of brandy and headed out of the room, obviously intent on wooing Nina.
Elliot drained his dry and followed.
Chapter Fifteen
As soon as the Duke of Fernbridge reached the drawing room, the man strode over to Nina.
Elliot watched as a beatific smile lit up her face. The duke’s attention pleased her, but once Fernbridge won this game and the challenge was over, Elliot was positive Nina would shift to nothing more than a trophy wife—a pretty bauble Fernbridge could show off. Then he’d go back to his hunting and sports, and the light in Nina’s eyes would dim. That’s what had happened to Elliot’s mother. He didn’t want that to happen to Nina. In truth, neither he nor Fernbridge were good enough for her.
As he started to move toward them, Victoria stepped in front of him.
“What is going on with you and Nina?” His cousin emphasized the question by jabbing her index finger against his chest.
“As I told you before, nothing.”
She pursed her lips. “Something is going on.”
“I suggest you ask her.” It was Nina’s place to divulge the plan they had made, especially since Elliot’s plan was different.
“I have. She says you are friends.”
“We are.” Elliot glanced at where Nina and Fernbridge stood talking.
Victoria followed his gaze. She touched his arm, and her smile fell away. “You’re not planning on ruining her, are you?”
“Of course I’m not. I’m offended you would even ask such a question.”
“Then whatever you’re planning is honorable?”
Nina laughed at something Fernbridge said.
Since when had the duke gotten a sense of humor?
“Victoria, if you’ll excuse me.” He strode toward Nina.
As he joined her and Fernbridge, Nina smiled at him. “His Grace was just telling me a story he heard down at his club about a gentleman whose massive bloodhound has taken over the gentleman’s bed, forcing him to sleep on the floor.”
Elliot blinked. That idiot was him, and he’d only fallen on the floor once. Was the duke aware it was Elliot? He’d only told Talbot.
A smirk lifted one corner of Fernbridge’s mouth, revealing he was quite aware of the man’s identity.
Damn that sod Talbot. He’d probably told everyone at their club.
The twinkle in Nina’s eyes revealed she possessed a strong inkling about the man’s identity as well, since she’d met Zeb.
Elliot forced a carefree expression. He was going to kill Talbot when he got back to London.
“What type of idiot gives up his bed for a dog?” Fernbridge held his gaze.
“I think it reflects that the gentleman has a soft heart,” Nina replied.
“Or he’s soft in the head.” Fernbridge’s smirk broadened.
Elliot ignored the comment and turned to Nina. “I haven’t seen much of your brother and sister-in-law.” Not that he missed Huntington’s deadly glares.
“Yes. Caroline has been unwell.”
“I hope she feels better soon.”
Without commenting on the discussion, Fernbridge offered his arm to Nina. “Will you take a stroll about the room with me?”
She nodded. “I’d be honored.”
Elliot watched them walk away, his gut tight over the thought of how the light in Nina’s eyes would be diminished over time if she married Fernbridge.
* * *
That night after an evening of musical entertainment, Maggie helped Nina remove her gown. As soon as the lady’s maid left the bedchamber, Nina slipped on a simple cotton dress in case Elliot came to her room tonight. He hadn’t said anything about continuing their lessons, but that would have been difficult since the Duke of Fernbridge had spent most of the evening by her side.
With regard to the duke, everything was working out the way she’d hoped. She released a long sigh and sat on the edge of her bed. If that was the case, why wasn’t she more elated? She stared at the door. Perhaps she should be asking herself why she hoped Elliot would come to her room. She buried her face in her hands.
A soft knock sounded on her door.
Her heart skipped a beat, and Nina strode to the door. She pinched some color into her cheeks before easing it open.
Elliot still wore his dark formal attire, but he’d removed his tie and undone several of the buttons at the top of his shirt. The corners of his sensual lips turned upward.
Her foolish heart, which had returned to its normal cadence, fluttered.
He held out his hand. “Will you come with me?”
Her gaze shifted from his outstretched hand to his blue eyes. Oh, how she wanted to go wherever he would take her, but she needed to act smart. She could not go running
off with Elliot because he wished it, even though she wished it as well.
“Where?”
“Take my hand, Nina, and you will see.”
She set her ungloved hand in his. His fingers curled around hers, causing warmth to travel through her digits and palm, and up her arm. Holding hands with Elliot was nearly as pleasant as kissing him.
Like two thieves in the night, they crept quietly up the dim corridor to a narrow door. Elliot removed a key from his trouser pocket and slipped it into the lock. Light from the gas sconces in the hall highlighted the first few steps in a stairwell—the space so narrow it would be impossible for two people to move up them side by side.
As if noticing her hesitation, Elliot squeezed her hand. “Do you trust me?”
Mouth suddenly dry, she nodded.
He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them. Darkness swallowed them as if they’d entered the mouth of a whale.
His breath touched her cheek. “There are fifteen steps,” Elliot whispered. “I’m on the first, so there are fourteen more to go. Be careful as you climb them and don’t let go of my hand.”
She had no intention of letting go. She tightened her grip.
“Does the dark frighten you?” he asked as they climbed the threads.
“Not normally, but I cannot recall ever being in such complete absence of light.”
“Don’t fret. We are nearly there.”
She’d been counting the steps in her head and knew he spoke the truth.
Ahead of her, Elliot stopped, and the sound of metal scraping against metal drifted in the air as he pushed a door open. Moonlight spilled into the stairwell, and she realized beyond the door was the night sky, with stars scattered in it like pixie dust on black velvet.
“We’re on the roof.”
“We are.” Smiling, Elliot pushed the door completely open. “During a new moon, one can see even the lightest stars in the dark sky and the constellations.”
“You brought me up here to stargaze?” She stared at him.
“Yes. I thought you would enjoy it.”
With her hand tucked in his, they strode toward the thick balustrade that ran around the perimeter of the roof. They were on the rear of the house, where there were urns every ten feet or so on broad square columns, set between the thick spindles.
She didn’t like heights, and the closer they moved to the edge of the roofline, the more her heart quickened. When they were only a few feet away, it felt as if the pounding organ within her might leap from her chest.
Her steps slowed.
“You’re shaking. Are you cold?” The smile on Elliot’s face dissolved.
“No, I’m a bit skittish about heights.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You jump hedges.”
“That’s different. When I sit on a horse, I feel like I’m one with the animal. My stomach can get a bit queasy as the animal starts to leap, but a sense of euphoria takes over. But up this high . . .” She shook her head. “I cannot explain it. It’s like crossing a high bridge. If I’m in a carriage I will not glance out the window.”
“Then we don’t have to move any closer to the railing. We can leave if you want.”
“No, I don’t want to leave. I just wish to stay a safe distance from the roof’s edge.” She turned. A blanket and pillows had been spread out, and a brass telescope stood on a wooden tripod. “Where did you get that?”
“I spotted it in Lord Hathaway’s library.”
The man would give birth to a bird if he noticed it missing. She opened her mouth.
He held up a hand, halting her words. “Don’t worry. I’ll return it before anyone ever realizes it was gone.”
“How is it you seem to always know what I’m thinking?”
“You have lovely, expressive eyes. Especially when agitated.” With his index finger, he stroked one side of her jaw.
A wave of heat sifted through her.
“Have you ever used a telescope?”
“No. Never.”
“Then you are in for a treat.” Still holding her hand, Elliot led her to the telescope. He adjusted the legs of the tripod, so the eyepiece was at her level.
Closing one eye, she pressed the other to the telescope. The stars appeared brighter, their distance closer, as if she could reach out and touch them, and there were more of them than she’d seen with her naked eye.
“Tell me what you see?” Elliot stepped behind her.
“So many stars I cannot count them.”
Standing behind her, he adjusted the telescope’s angle. The warmth drifting off him caressed her. “Look here and tell me what you see.”
Trying to keep her voice even, she said, “Is that the Big Dipper?”
“It is.” His breath tickled the back of her neck.
The fine hairs on her nape stood on end and she fought the urge to run her hand over them to force them down. This close, she not only felt embraced in the heat of his body, but his masculine scent, a pleasant mixture of shaving soap, clean skin, and the starch on his white shirt.
“Now if we angle it this way, what do you see?”
The hard surface of Elliot’s chest pressed against her back. His hands covered hers as he moved the direction of the telescope.
“Is that Libra?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Suddenly the heat from his body was gone.
She glanced over her shoulder. He was staring at her with those blue eyes of his. He rubbed at the back of his neck and drew in a slow breath. Was he feeling as hot as her, as if there wasn’t enough air in this open space to cool off her skin?
He sat on the blanket; bracing his weight on his forearms, he leaned back and crossed his stretched-out legs at the ankles.
Somehow, peering through the telescope didn’t seem as appealing without him standing behind her. She looked through the eyepiece again. When she turned around, Elliot lay on his back, one arm folded behind his head. His eyes were closed. Her gaze drifted over the powerful angles of his body, then centered on the patch of skin where his shirt lay open. She wondered what his skin tasted like.
“Nina?”
His voice caused her to jump like a child caught doing something wrong. She snapped her regard to his face. Thankfully, his eyes were still closed.
“Have you ever slept under the stars?” he asked.
It seemed such a fanciful idea, especially coming from him. She smiled. “Never, but I’ve danced under them.”
Elliot opened his eyes. His lips tipped upward into an amused smile, and she knew he realized she spoke about their dance on Lord and Lady Pendleton’s terrace in Richmond.
She sat next to him and wrapped her arms about her knees and stared at the sky. The world around them was quiet, and they didn’t seem to need words to fill the void.
He shifted up onto his elbows and pointed to a space in the sky. “There’s the group of stars called the kissing couple.”
“The kissing couple?” She searched for the stars he talked about. Not seeing them, she glanced at him.
One side of his mouth turned up.
She gave his shoulder a push. “There is no couple.”
“What? You don’t see them?”
“You’re fantasizing. They are not there.”
“Nina, if I was fantasizing, it would not be about a couple in the sky. Not when there are warm-blooded things to romanticize about.”
She let her gaze drop to his sensual mouth. A mouth that knew how to do things. Things she wanted to learn. But Elliot was not the man for her. He would not be faithful. If she gave in to her desires, he would not want to marry her. Worse, if he did, he would not remain faithful. Ignoring the sparks his nearness caused, she settled against one of the pillows and stared at the stars.
What seemed like only a minute later, a warm finger trailed over her cheek. “Nina, darling, wake up.”
She opened her eyes. Elliot sat next to where she lay. She blinked at him, then the sky above. “Was I sleeping?�
��
His laugh was low, the tone rich with amusement. “Yes.”
She touched her chin, hoping there wasn’t drool on it. Thankfully, it was dry as desert sand. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Because everyone should sleep under the sky at least once in their life, and now you have.” He scrambled to his feet and offered her his hand.
Nina placed her fingers in his warm grip and stood.
Their eyes locked.
She fought the urge to shift closer to the warmth radiating from his body. She forced herself to step back and reached for one of the pillows. “I’ll help you return these to where you got them.”
“No need. After I walk you to your door, I’ll come back for them.”
“No, really. I can help.”
He tipped her chin up, so their eyes met. “They are from my bedchamber, darling.”
“Oh.” She set the pillow down.
“Let’s get you back to your room.” He took her hand in his and led her to the stairs. At the bottom of the steps, Elliot opened the door an inch.
“Is the coast clear?”
He nodded and released her hand. They stepped into the corridor and made their way to her door.
The way Elliot held her gaze, she thought he might kiss her, but he mouthed the words, Good night, Nina, and strode away.
* * *
The following morning, Nina awoke late and made her way downstairs to the dining room. Either Caroline and James had already breakfasted or they were still in their bedchamber or on the terrace. Unfortunately, Amelia Hampton and her cousin Priscilla were at the table.
Amelia scrunched up her face as if forced to sniff at refuse.
Nina bit back the urge to ask the woman exactly what bug had crawled up her . . . nose. Instead, she stepped onto the terrace.
Not seeing her brother and sister-in-law, she walked over to Victoria’s great-aunt, who sat at one of the wrought-iron tables. “Good morning, Mrs. Darby. Is Victoria still in her room?”
Behind her thick glasses, the elderly woman blinked several times as if trying to draw Nina into focus. “No, dear. She’s gone to watch the Duke of Fernbridge and Lord Ralston play tennis.”
Never Conspire with a Sinful Baron Page 12