Nathanial turned to greet the man, “You made good time.”
“Yes, Sir. Things went faster than I thought they would. It seems that Lord Brookstone is in rather a hurry.”
Nathanial smiled to himself. As he suspected.
“It is confirmed,” he asked.
Johnson nodded. “Brookstone passed the funds earlier this afternoon. Mr. George Easting took the funds and returned the bonds of ownership.”
Nathanial could only shake his head at Johnson’s ability to learn things. The man had eyes in every important house in London. What the man didn’t know was that Holland was about to severely limit foreign investment in the Dutch East Indies. No license would be granted. The company would fail before it ever got started.
“And where did he obtain the funds?” he asked, holding his breath. This was the important part.
Johnson smiled, a deep, slightly mean smile. “From various sources, he’s mortgaged everything he has that isn’t entailed. Plus,” he added, his smile growing, “he has obtained some significant funds from Jarvis Hastings.”
Nathanial winced. Jarvis Hastings wasn’t the normal bank. From London’s East End, Hastings traveled in a rough world and wouldn’t care about Brookstone’s title. No, he would demand full payment and heaven help any man who failed him.
Brookstone was going to find himself in serious jeopardy when his investment failed to materialize. It had taken a dozen breadcrumbs dropped in just the right place to convince Brookstone that Mr. George Easting and his Dutch Indies adventure were to be his salvation. That by getting in at the ground level, he could recoup enough to pay his debts and more than enough to become one of the most powerful Lords of Britain.
“And Lord Weston?” Nathanial asked.
Johnson frowned slightly, “He is attempting to obtain the necessary funds, but is unwilling to borrow from the men Brookstone has used. It seems Lord Weston is a little more discerning than I had thought.”
“Or more timid,” Nathanial said.
“Yes, sir. He is close, however, mostly friends. I expect him to make his purchase within the next few days. Enough that he will destroy what little reputation his family name retains.”
Nathanial took a deep breath and thought about what he had just learned.
Things change, he thought, and he needed to always remember to adjust when necessary. What is it they say? No plan survives first contact with the enemy. Nodding to himself, he made the decision to pivot and do things a little differently when it came to Lord Weston.
“I want you to deliver a couple of letters for me. Have the stable get you a fresh horse. I need you to get them to Lord Weston before he makes the purchase.”
Johnson frowned, “Before? Sir.”
“Yes, before,” Nathania said. “Hurry now, I’ll have them ready by the time you return from the stable. You are to hand the first to Lord Weston, if he agrees to my demands, you are to hand him the second.”
“And if he doesn’t agree to your demands?” Johnson asked.
Nathanial scoffed. “Then to hell with him and he can drown under a sea of debt until his title is nothing more than a worthless husk.”
Johnson nodded as he left the room. Nathanial was sure the man was already mapping out his path, selecting inns to change horses so that he might make it in time.
Yes, he thought as he pulled out paper. This was better for everyone. Not as satisfying perhaps, but better all the way around. And, it didn’t change the fact that Brookstone would fail. That was the important thing after all. Lady Alice’s honor demanded no less.
Smiling to himself, he began to write.
.o0o.
Alice was unable to pull herself away from her bedroom window. The shiny moon bathed the valley fields in a silvery glow. A soft haze that made everything look magical and romantic. As if the world was a different place. A place where anything might happen. A place where happiness and fulfillment were a part of a person’s life.
Biting her lip, she tried not to frown. Her heart was filled with a secret longing, she realized. A longing that would not rest. A need, and desire that could not be denied.
Sighing heavily, she forced herself away so that she might prepare for bed.
What was she to do? she wondered for the thousandth time. What was her life to be? What future would be hers? Mr. Caldwell had rescued them, yet he had also reminded her of what she would never have.
There would be no marriage for her. She was long past the marrying age, her family’s shunning, her lack of dowry, Brookstone’s threats, everything pointed to the fact that she would spend her life alone. A spinster. No man of standing would ever offer for her hand.
Mr. Caldwell’s funds would ensure that life was comfortable. Thankfully, there would be no need to become some man’s mistress. Instead, she might be able to afford a simple cottage in the country. A place for herself and her mother. But it would be a life alone. A life without meaning.
The thought brought a sadness that surprised her.
“No man’s mistress,” she whispered to herself as a sense of loss passed through her.
Her fingers stopped unlacing her dress as she turned to stare out the window again. No man’s mistress. No man’s lover, no man’s love. That was the problem, she realized. She would never know what it felt like to be held by the man she loved. To be possessed, wanted, desperately needed. To know that sense of fulfillment.
No, she would become a cold, hard spinster.
As her mind wandered in a dozen different directions with all the ramifications of her new reality, a slight movement caught her attention.
Mr. Caldwell, she realized as she took in a quick breath. Alone, crossing towards the dowager house.
Was he going there to work? she wondered as her heart began to race for some unknown reason. Or to meet someone. A liaison perhaps. He had said he liked the solitude and privacy the house provided. Was he meeting someone there? A country Miss? The thought sent a burning anger through her. How dare he? She was right here, Why didn’t he pursue her? She would willingly accede to him.
At that moment, as if reading her mind, the man stopped and looked up at her window.
Alice gasped and stepped back. Had he seen her? No, she realized. The room was dark. Only a small candle by the bed. Not enough light for him to discern that she stood by the window staring at him.
He continued to look up at her window. Tall, and strong, she thought. Wide shoulders. The darkness hid his expression, but she could tell that he was contemplating something. Something important.
He had removed his cravat, his jacket unbuttoned, he looked comfortable, and at ease with the world. Confident and assured, all man.
Her eyes refused to leave him. What does he want? Why is he staring at my window? Her thoughts raced as they tried to keep pace with her thundering heart. Does he want me to follow? Is he silently hoping that I see him and follow after him like a love-sick school girl?
Biting her lip, she continued to stare back while he stared up at her. At last, he made a subtle gesture with his hand and she gasped, he was asking for her to follow. A sudden thrill shot through her. He wanted her.
No, she thought. Don’t let your wishful thinking fool you into making the wrong assumption, she told herself. No, be careful.
Yet, she could have sworn that was the message he had sent. That, along with the words he had chosen upon their arrival. Surely, he was letting her know of his desires.
Sighing, she continued to watch him until at last he turned and continued on to the dowager house. She watched him when he reached the distant door, turned and look back once more, then slipped into the house and disappeared from view.
Alice’s heart continued to race and her breath grew short. He wanted her to follow, she was sure of it. And she wanted him. Of that there was no doubt in her mind. One night, she told herself. All she wanted was one night so that in her old age she could think back to the time when she had felt what a woman should feel.
&
nbsp; Yes, she would go, she thought to herself as fear and anticipation began to battle in the bottom of her stomach.
“Yes,” she whispered as she set her shoulders and reached for her cloak.
No, she thought, do this right. If anyone saw her in the house with this cloak, they would surely know she intended to go outside. At this hour, they would know she was on her way to a liaison.
Leaving the cloak behind, she quietly opened her door, making sure the lock did not click and the hinges did not creak. Once in the hall, she stopped outside her mother’s door and listened. A gentle snore made her smile with relief. Her mother was a sound sleeper and wouldn’t rise until well after the sun was up.
Reaching down and removing her slippers, Alice crept down the dark hallway to the head of the stairs. With each step, she expected to be confronted by a servant. Or worse, Olivia.
As she slowly descended the stairs, her toes searched for solid footing. A noiseless decent, all the while her ears constantly scanned for any sound of an approaching accuser. Surely, they would see it written all over her face. She was following Mr. Caldwell for a tryst. There could be no other explanation for her being up and about at this hour. Especially with her shoes in her hand.
Swallowing hard, she stepped off the last stair and froze as she waited to be accosted. But nothing, the house was as quiet as a grave.
Sighing, she scurried to the front door and slipped out before anyone could stop her.
Putting her shoes back on. She started to cross the main drive when she realized she would be seen by anyone looking out of their window. Just as she had seen Nathanial.
Ducking back into the shadows, she froze for a moment as she mapped out a path, moving from shadow to shadow that could get her to her destination without being seen.
Making her way, she wondered again if she was doing the right thing. Did he want her to follow? And what would happen when she got there? She smiled to herself. She knew what she wanted to happen and if it didn’t she would brain the man for being so dense.
As she reached the dowager house’s front door she froze.
This is it, she thought. There will be no turning back once she stepped inside. She knew herself, she knew she would never be able to turn away from him. Clenching her teeth, she nodded to herself and slowly opened the door.
Slipping inside, she slowly crept towards the main room. Each step taking her deeper into a new future.
The smell of wood smoke and bee’s wax polish greeted her. That, and the faint hint of sandalwood. A memory of the man who had entered just a few minutes ago.
Suddenly she became terrified of finding him in a compromising situation with another woman. Either that, or coming on him when he was unaware, the thought of how he might react sent a shiver through her, he might very well shoot her and ask questions later.
“Mr. Caldwell,” she called out weakly. “Nathanial?”
“In here,” he said from the main room, his velvety voice sending a warmth through her that made her soul happy with the world.
She turned to step into the main room and froze.
Nathanial stood next to the fire, his arms out, silently asking for her, his face creased with a welcoming smile. The kind of smile that let a woman know that she was wanted.
It was all the evidence she needed as she raced across the room and into his embrace.
“You came,” he declared, almost as if he were surprised.
“I could not stay away,” she answered as her lips found his.
Chapter Fourteen
Nathanial’s heart jumped as his arms wrapped themselves around her. Be careful, he thought. She is as fragile as a summer daisy.
Does she even know what he hoped would happen tonight? Or was she hear simply to be kissed. Simply to be held. Surely, she could not be aware of what he hoped would happen.
Her arms had snaked their way around him, “Oh, Nathanial,” she moaned as she pulled him closer.
He leaned back away from her lips and stared down into her eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asked, desperately praying that she would not change her mind.
Staring back up at him, her eyes cleared as she focused on him.
“One night,” she said. “That is all I ask. One night, I promise I will never ask for more.”
“And If you become with …” he started, unable to finish the words.
“It is not the right time,” she assured him as she leaned forward to resume their kiss.
But he held back, still studying her. “And your future? If anyone learns, you will be ruined. You are a Lady. An Earl’s daughter. I am but a trader’s son.”
“One night,” she said. “No one will ever learn. I have no desire to marry. So, I am safe.”
He stared back at her, his gaze locked on hers as a silent message traveled back and forth between them, A message of passion, of need, and of a desperate want.
He was lost. It was as if a pent-up water behind a dam had been released as he swept her up into his arms. One arm cradling her back, the other slipping under her knees. Holding her next to his chest, afraid to ever let go.
She squealed, then quickly bit her lip as if she feared the sound of her own voice. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Taking you to my bed,” he said with an animalistic smile.
She stared back at him for a long moment, then smiled up at him with a hint of the passion to come. Yes, he thought, this was a woman to share a night with.
Carrying her up the stairs, he smiled down at her.
“I can walk,” she said with a hint of exasperation.
“I know, but this is so much more fun,” he answered as he kicked his bedroom door open.
He really should have made better preparations, he thought. But he had been afraid to tempt fate, hadn’t he?
The room was cloaked in shadow, the silver moon providing just enough light to see the bed. Perhaps she would prefer it darker. Should he pull the drapes closed? Something to help her modesty.
Ignoring his regrets, he slowly made his way across the room and gently laid her on the bed.
I need her, he thought. More than I have ever needed anyone.
Quickly removing his Jacket, he tossed it onto the chair and just as quickly pulled his shirt up over his head. Standing there bare-chested, the night air reminded him that he had not started a fire. Would she be cold? he wondered.
Reaching down he began to remove his boots, then glanced up to find Alice staring at him, her eyes as big as saucers.
Their eyes locked for a long moment. God how beautiful she was. It was as if an angel had been sent just for him.
Swallowing hard, he removed his boots and reached for his pants when he suddenly realized that she hadn’t moved. Was she having second thoughts? Had he scared her? This is too much, too fast.
“Alice?” he said.
She blinked for a second as if trying to gather her thoughts. “What should I do?” she asked with a hesitant voice.
He smiled to himself. Now he understood.
“Come here,” he said as he held out his arms for her. “Are you sure?” he asked again.
She frowned for a second then shot him a scathing glare. “If you refuse me now, I will kill you in your sleep,” she said with a passionate hiss. Then, a sudden fear crossed her face.
She swallowed hard and came up off the bed to stand before him.
Gliding around behind her, he slowly started to unlace her dress and felt her shiver with his touch. Leaning forward, he whispered, “Relax, let me lead you tonight.”
She nodded slowly, obviously unable to form the words.
Finishing with the laces, he gently separated her dress and leaned forward to kiss her neck. The enticing scent of Jasmine washed over him as he nipped at her.
Alice slumped slightly as her head fell forward. He must remember that spot, he thought to himself. It would receive special attention throughout the night.
Taking a quick breath, he slowly
pushed her dress off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He heard her gasp and smiled to himself. It was as he thought. Her first time. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. The thought of any other man ever touching her ignited an anger inside of him. Knowing that he was to be her first pleased him, much more than it should have.
Slowly, she started to turn towards him.
“No, not yet,” he said as he held her back. Pulling a pin, he let her long hair fall in lush curves down over her back.
Focusing on kissing between her shoulders, he slowly pushed her chemise to the side and let it fall. Smiling to himself, he began trailing kisses down her back as he slowly pushed down the last of her undergarments. Exposing the most delectable backside in God’s creation.
A burning hunger began to build inside of him. A need like no other.
Alice looked over her shoulder, her eyes masked in fear and embarrassment.
“You are beautiful,” he said as he reached an arm around her and pulled her into him, his other hand pushing down his pants until he stood as naked as her, his hardness nestled against her.
She moaned and gently leaned back into him, sinking into his embrace.
Swallowing hard, he slowly turned her so that he could look at her in the weak moonlight.
God, the woman was delectable, a sultry seductress wrapped in innocence and passion. His eyes traveled over her, down over the sweet swell of her full breasts, down across the curve of her waist to the flair of her hips. Perfection, he thought. A woman meant to entice the God’s themselves.
“You are perfect Alice,” he said with a smile, unable to take his eyes off her.
She smiled faintly as her eyes studied him in detail. He could see her cataloging every detail, memorizing. Without thought, her hands drifted up to touch his chest, to linger over his heart, as if trying to soak in his soul.
The woman’s touch was like magic. Enticing, while full of energy. The touch of a Goddess, he thought as he swooped her up to lay her on the bed. Standing back, once again his eyes traveled over her, soaking in each delicious detail.
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