“It’s hardly the same… Nicholas. Granted our activities did not strictly adhere to society’s rules, but our minor adventures did not include amorous dalliances.” She tossed him a sly smile. “As I said, it’s not the same at all. And it was a very long time ago.”
“Indeed.” He studied her for a brief moment. “Have you changed so very much?”
“More than I can say,” she said softly. Her words drifted off on the breeze, and silence lay between them. Sabrina realized how very close he stood. Too close. Did she only imagine the seductive warmth of his body drawing her near? Was it his heartbeat that thundered in her ears? Was it her own?
His eyes reflected the moonlight and glittered, intense, dangerous … exciting. She noted vaguely that his hair had grown during the voyage and now curled beneath his ears. Sabrina resisted the impulse to reach up and pull a silky strand through her fingers. Her gaze caught his, and the lightness of the moment vanished, replaced by a tension stretched taut between them.
“Why are you here?” she whispered.
He shrugged, the answer obvious. “Erick asked me to speak to you about this voyage. It was to no avail. You issued that ridiculous challenge and…” He shook his head sharply and stared into her eyes. “Why am I here? I don’t really know.” He stepped nearer. “All I know is that from the moment we met, you intrigued me. Captivating me one second, cutting me directly the next. I came to believe the fascinating woman I had caught a momentary glimpse of was a passing illusion, a mere mirage. And the lady well known throughout society for her reserve, to be the true woman. I believed that calm, proper personage would make an appropriate countess.”
“Countess!” Sabrina gasped, shocked at the implication of his statement. “Are you speaking of marriage? To me?”
He placed a finger over her lips, quieting her words. A shiver of anticipation shot through her. His arms encircled her waist and he drew her close, an unresisting puppet pulled by an invisible string.
Nicholas brushed a stray tendril of hair away from her face and gently cupped her chin. “But when you defied me, stood up to me, virtually challenged me to accompany you, that’s when I began to wonder if the lovely Lady Stanford was indeed the proper, somewhat dull, even boring paragon of virtue my investigators had prepared me for. I would wed the lady.” The intensity of his gaze held her speechless. “I wish to know the woman.”
“I scarcely think—”
Without warning his lips crushed hers, silencing her protest, stealing her will. Desire suppressed since the moment they’d met exploded within her. She clung to him, powerless to fight the urgency of her need for his touch. Greedily her lips parted and greeted his exploring tongue. Welcoming. Inviting. Demanding. He tasted of limitless passion and raw power. Sensations she’d long forgotten, or perhaps never knew, surged through her, and she strained her body toward his.
He splayed his hands across the width of her back and drew her tightly against him. Her breasts pressed into his chest, hard and arousing. He groaned and pulled his lips from hers. Her head fell back, and he trailed kisses the length of her neck, his lips settling in the warm hollow of her throat.
She raised her head and ran her fingers through the thick, silken threads of his hair. Drawing her hands down to frame his face, she guided his lips back to hers. Sabrina wanted, no, needed to devour him, to be devoured in returned. Dimly she realized this passion on the deck would soon not be enough.
Jack had taught her many things about the pleasures that could be experienced between a man and a woman. And not since his death had she wanted to share such intimacies with a man. But even Jack had not elicited this immediate reaction, this insistent desire.
Nicholas nibbled her shoulder. A skillful hand caressed her breast through the thin fabric of her gown. She trembled beneath his fingers, yearning for more. What he would think when this paragon of virtue took him to her bed? This proper paragon of virtue.
…the proper, somewhat dull, even boring paragon of virtue my investigators had prepared me for.
Investigators?
He’d had her investigated?
Fear of discovery mingled with indignation, and passion extinguished like a wave upon a flame. Frantically she cast her mind over their conversation, searching for any hint, any clue that he had uncovered her past. No, surely if he knew, there would have been some indication. The fear diminished, leaving only a growing outrage. She’d had far too much of far too many arrogant men through the years to let yet another think he could do as he wished simply by virtue of his gender.
Nicholas continued his exploration, concentrating on a sensitive spot where neck met shoulder and producing the most arousing sensations. She ignored them.
“Nicholas.”
“Hmmm?”
“Why did you have me investigated?”
He raised his head. “I see nothing unusual in it. My son is to marry your daughter, after all. Naturally I would be concerned about the girl and her family.”
Sabrina untangled herself from his arms and stepped back. “And just what did your inquiries tell you about my daughter and myself?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you. You have lived a relatively conservative life since your husband’s death, retiring to the country after his demise for a more than respectable period of mourning. You are well received, although not overly involved, socially. There have been a number of offers for your hand through the years. But the names of only three men have appeared in the betting book at White’s as serious contenders for your affection. And you appear well suited financially. Hardly earth-shattering revelations. As to your marriage.” He shrugged. “I had no need of an investigation for that. The activities you and Stanford engaged in are well known, bordering, I might add, on the level of legend.”
Indignation overrode relief at his words. He knew nothing of significance. She ignored the annoying thought that she had also made inquiries about him. Were his actions so very different from her own? He only did what he had to do to protect his son, much as she had to protect her daughter. Was it the investigation itself or his conclusions that angered her? His words throbbed in her head.
Dull, even boring paragon of virtue.
“Did my daughter live up to your expectations for a wife for your son?” A seed of an idea took root in the back of her mind.
“Of course,” he said with enthusiasm and moved to take her in his arms again.
She evaded his embrace, stepped to the rail, and stared out over the sea. The idea burst into full blossom. Absurd. Ridiculous. Disastrous. An irrevocable mistake.
“And I gather I too lived up to your standards?”
“Well, yes, I—”
She whirled to face him. “Just what are your qualifications?”
“My qualifications?” Caution colored his words.
“Your requirements?”
“My requirements? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”
“For the position,” she snapped. “For a countess. For your wife.”
“My wife?” He chose his words with care. “Why, the same as any other man in my position, I would imagine. I need an accomplished hostess, capable of managing my household. I would prefer a woman of passing intelligence, one not difficult to look at as well. And naturally someone with a spotless reputation and impeccable breeding.”
Nicholas winced, and Sabrina noted the expression with satisfaction. Even he could see how arrogant and selfish his admission was.
“I see.” Her voice rang, controlled and calm. Far too calm. A fist clenched in the pit of his stomach. She paused, as if in thought. “You did not mention love or even affection, so I presume you want a relationship that allows you to continue to live your private life as you wish. With whomever you wish. You seem to be seeking a strictly public relationship, one for the sake of appearances only. A marriage of convenience.”
“I hadn’t quite thought of it that way,” he said wryly.
“Perhaps you should. And according to
your investigations, with the exception of my somewhat scandalous marriage, I meet your qualifications?”
“Why yes, but—”
“It sounds as though you’ve forgotten.” Cool surprise sounded in her voice. “Very well then. I am not used to lauding my own accomplishments, but they are extensive. I have run my own household for many years and I am a polished hostess, well versed in the social niceties. I speak and read French quite well and know a smattering of Spanish and an equal amount of Italian. My mother’s family can trace its heritage back to King Richard.” Starlight flashed in her eyes, and the chill in her voice grew even colder. “Men have dedicated poetry to my obvious charms, and my reputation is, how did you so graciously put that, oh yes, I am a dull and boring paragon of virtue. I think I more than live up to your standards. Don’t you agree?”
Nicholas thought himself an intelligent man, but not until Sabrina nearly spit the words at him did he realize this was not going at all well. It was certainly not the conversation he had envisioned when he took her in his arms.
“Of course, Sabrina, however—”
“Very well then.” She squared her shoulders and addressed him in a tone worthy of royalty. “I accept your proposal.”
He stared, shocked. “I wasn’t aware I had extended a proposal.”
She shrugged. “Call it what you will. You said you would wed the lady. And whatever else I have heard about you, I have also heard you are a man of honor. A man of your word.”
He pulled his brows together in a considering frown. “I cannot believe you would agree to such an arrangement. A marriage of convenience, as you put it.”
“Under certain terms and conditions.”
He bit back the chuckle rising to his lips. Whatever else this woman might be, his investigators had it all wrong. She was definitely not dull and boring. He wondered what else they’d gotten wrong. “Just what are these terms and conditions?”
She crossed her arms and paced to and fro before him, her face and form growing crisp then indistinct in the shadows and the moonlight.
“First of all, you must not withdraw your permission for Belinda and Erick to wed, regardless of what happens between us.”
“Agreed.”
“Secondly, all property and wealth I bring to this marriage remains under my control. I should like papers drawn up to that effect. I will not forfeit my financial independence.”
He pondered the idea briefly. While it was not unknown for a wife to have her own resources, it was extremely unusual. However, he certainly did not need her money and could well afford to be generous. If this demand kept her amused, so be it. “Very well.”
“We will be equal partners in any business venture we are jointly engaged in.”
“Business venture?” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What type of business venture?”
She stopped her pacing and cast him a wary look. “It doesn’t signify at the moment. I simply need your word.”
“You have it.” He grinned. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” Sabrina stepped forward and gazed up at him. The glittering heavens reflected in her eyes, and he had to stop himself from reaching for her.
She drew a steady breath. “Since this is to be a marriage of convenience only and privately we shall continue to live our separate lives, and since you already have an heir, I will expect you to respect my privacy.”
“Respect your privacy?” he said slowly. “Do you mean to say you will be my wife but you will not share my bed?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.” Her tone was firm. “I shall be everything you want in a countess. I shall be the perfect wife. But I shall not share any man’s bed with other women, and I shall not give my favors to a man I do not love.”
She stepped back. “I suspect you would never wish the public spectacle of a divorce, therefore if we do not suit, we can do what so many do and live completely apart from one another. If these terms are unacceptable to you…” Sabrina tilted her head in a questioning manner. “Well, Nicholas, what’s it to be?”
He stared, the silence growing between them. He had thought she’d be the appropriate wife for his purposes the evening they had first met. But now he wanted more. Much, much more. The light of the moon cast a shimmering halo about her hair and caressed her finely carved features, her classically sculpted form. She was a vision in the misty magic of the black and silver shades of the night. He could remember only one other time in his life when his desire for a woman was this overpowering. Irrational, instinctual, and ultimately undeniable. And then as now, probably a huge mistake. Regardless, he would take her as his wife, terms, conditions, and all.
“I have a condition of my own,” he said lightly, as if it did not matter. “If we decide we do not suit, it must be a joint decision. We must agree to separate.”
“Is that all?”
The moonlight reflected the surprise on her face. Nicholas smiled to himself. Obviously she did not think he’d accept her outrageous proposition. He nodded.
“Then as acting captain of this vessel, Simon can marry us. Is tomorrow acceptable?”
“More than acceptable.” He pulled her into his arms.
“Nicholas.” She huffed. “I hardly think this is an auspicious start to a marriage of convenience.”
“We are not yet wed,” he murmured, “and at the moment, I find this wonderfully convenient,” and pressed his lips to hers.
He held her close, plundering her lips with his own. Instinctively he sensed her surrender, knew the moment of her defeat. Satisfied, he released her. Lifting her chin with a gentle touch, he gazed into eyes aglow with the power of his passion.
“Until tomorrow.”
It took but a moment. Nicholas noted Sabrina gathering her wits about her. Noted her transformation into the cool, collected Lady Stanford. She was good, his bride-to-be, very good.
“Tomorrow.” She nodded politely, turned, and walked into the darkness. He rested his back against the rail and watched her disappear into the night. Her scent lingered in the air, vaguely spicy, hinting of a long-forgotten memory. A smile grew on his face, and he considered the unexpected benefits of taking a wife. Nicholas, Earl of Wyldewood, was a man of honor, and he would abide by their bargain, abide by their terms.
All, of course, except one.
Chapter 7
“Have you lost your mind? This is the most harebrained scheme I’ve ever had the misfortune to hear. What’s got into you, lass?” Simon glared at her.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Sabrina said defensively.
“Excellent idea!” he roared. “Just last night you stood in this very same cabin and told me, in no uncertain terms, mind you, how his mere presence was ruining everything. How you’d be just as happy to see him feeding fish at the bottom of the sea. Now you want to marry the man?”
“I simply changed my mind.” She sniffed haughtily. “Besides, marrying Wyldewood solves all my problems.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow in a sarcastic gesture. “And how, pray tell, does your getting yourself leg-shackled to a man you scarcely know and can’t stand to boot solve anything?”
“I presented him with a list of terms and he agreed to them. For one thing, he promised he would not withdraw his permission for Belinda to marry his son.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Her future is now assured.”
“And?”
“And he’s agreed to be equal partners with me in any business venture.”
“By business venture, do you mean this French gold you’re going after?”
“Exactly.” She nodded.
He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “Did you tell him about the gold?”
“Good Lord no. I wouldn’t hazard to guess what he’ll say about that. But sooner or later, he is bound to find out. And this way I’ve secured his promise and assured my share.”
“Seems to me, if you’re married to the man, there’s no need to pay him a dowry so’s your daughter can marry his so
n. So there’s no need to go looking for this gold.”
“No, Simon.” She shook her head vehemently. “I won’t be financially dependent on any man ever again.”
“But marriage, lass,” he said softly, catching her gaze with his. “When I first met you, you were newly widowed. If I recall, you were almost as relieved to be free as you were sorrowful at your husband’s death.”
“That’s not true,” she said sharply, denying the feelings it had taken her years to accept. “You make it sound like I was glad Jack died. I never wanted him dead.” She sank into a chair, laying her head on the backrest, and gazed unseeing at the low rafters above. “I just wanted him to grow up. Life with Jack was one unending entertainment. A magnificent, midnight masked ball. Fast and exciting and full of adventure. But even the best of parties grow weary after a time.
“I was so very tired at the end. Tired of living far beyond our means and always pretending not to know how deeply in debt we were. Always pretending tomorrow would never come.” Sabrina closed her eyes for a moment, memories of her marriage, memories of Jack, crowding her mind. She set them aside, as she always did, and firmly closed the door to the past.
“However”—her tone turned brisk—“that was a very long time ago. And this marriage shall be far different.”
“I can’t believe the man would agree to these terms of yours,” Simon grumbled. “And I still don’t see why you need to wed him.”
“I’m heading to a rather primitive place,” she said in her loftiest manner. “A lady alone and therefore vulnerable. Sometimes a woman simply needs the protection of a man’s name if nothing else.”
“Hah!” He snorted. “That smells worse than a crock of week-old fish. I’ve watched you bully a rowdy bunch of smugglers as well as throw your weight around on a ship loaded with salty sailors. Hell, I taught you myself how to handle a knife. I’ve yet to see you need a man for protection from anything.”
“You’ve never seen me scared either.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
The Perfect Wife Page 8