“Remarkable woman,” his father said softly.
Nathan stilled, then barely controlled the urge to look heavenward. It appeared Victoria had made yet another conquest. How bloody delightful. “Remarkable?” he repeated with feigned indifference. “I find her rather… tiresome.” He again resisted the urge to look heavenward, this time to see if a lightning bolt would smite him for uttering such an outrageous lie.
His father’s surprised gaze flicked toward him then resettled again across the room. “I wasn’t aware you’d spent enough time in her company to form such an opinion.”
As far as his peace of mind was concerned, he’d spent far too much time in her company, and before her visit to Cornwall was over, he’d be forced to spend much more time with her. And damn it, he couldn’t wait.
“One need not spend days or weeks with a person to form an opinion, Father. First impressions tend to be fairly accurate.” A frown pulled down Nathan’s brow as he realized that his first impression of Victoria had been that she was utterly… charming. Too innocent for him, too aristocratic, but charming nonetheless.
“I completely agree,” Father said, nodding.
Nathan pulled himself from his brown study. “You agree? With what?”
“What you just said. That it isn’t necessary to know someone very long to realize they are… special.”
“I said that?” Good God, he needed to stop drinking brandy. Immediately.
“Perhaps not in those precise words, but that was the idea, yes.”
“You might not need to spend much time, but certainly at least a private conversation is necessary, Father.”
“Again, I agree. We had a delightful chat this morning in the garden, then again this afternoon over tea. Can’t recall the last time I was so delightfully entertained.”
Nathan’s brows puckered further. “I thought you spent this morning with Lady Delia in the garden.”
“And so I did. As I said, a remarkable woman.”
Nathan blinked. “You think Lady Delia is remarkable?”
His father looked at him strangely. “Yes. What on earth did you think I was saying? Has your hearing become afflicted along with your chess playing ability?”
No, but clearly his mental capabilities were not all they should be. “I thought you were referring to Lady Victoria,” he muttered.
Father stared at him hard for several seconds. “I see. A man would have to be blind not to notice that Lady Victoria is comely.”
“I never said she wasn’t.”
“No. You said she was tiresome. Chit doesn’t strike me as such. Clearly, neither your brother nor Alwyck find her objectionable, either.” He studied Nathan over the rim of his crystal snifter. “Not the sort of woman you used to be attracted to.”
Damn it all, when had he turned into a book his father could read so accurately? “I wasn’t aware that ‘tiresome’ was synonymous with ‘attracted to,’ ” Nathan said, keeping his tone light.
“Normally it’s not. However, sometimes…” Father’s voice drifted off, then he added, “A woman of her rank is a much better match for Colin. Or Alwyck.”
The bitterness he’d spent years holding at bay twisted Nathan’s lips. “As opposed to an untitled second son who is a lowly country physician with a dubious reputation. I wholeheartedly agree.”
His father’s gaze hardened. “I harbor no objections to your choice of profession. Indeed, being a physician is respectable for a man in your position and far preferable to having you risk your life and your brother’s life as a spy. But I neither approve of nor understand the decisions you’ve made regarding where and how you live and the way you left Cornwall.”
Nathan hiked up one brow. “Little Longstone is a quiet, charming place-”
“Where people pay you with farm animals and you live in a shack.”
“Cottage. It’s a cottage. And not everyone pays me in farm animals. And if you recall, I left here because you ordered me to go.”
A tension-filled silence followed his tersely spoken words. A muscle ticked in his father’s jaw, then he replied in a low voice. “Let’s be honest, Nathan. Angry words were said on both our parts. Yes, I told you to go, but we both know you’re the sort of man who wouldn’t do something you didn’t want to.”
“I’m also not the sort of man to stay where I’m not welcome.”
“Face the truth. You wanted to go. To escape the untenable situation your actions caused. I may have told you to leave Creston Manor, but it was your decision to run away.”
An uncomfortable flush heated Nathan’s face. “I’ve never run away from anything in my entire life.”
“I know. That is why I found it, and continue to find it, so confounding that you did so in this instance. Your situation was difficult, yet instead of fighting for what you wanted, you left.”
“I left to find what I wanted. What I needed. A peaceful place. Where no one whispered behind my back or stared at me with doubt and suspicion.”
Another burst of laughter drew Nathan’s attention across the room. Victoria was smiling at Gordon in a way that set Nathan’s teeth on edge. Pulling his attention back to his father, he found himself on the receiving end of a troubled stare.
“If you believe a woman such as Lady Victoria will settle for the rustic way you live when she could be a countess and have all this,” Father waved his hand to encompass the entire room, “then I fear you are destined for disappointment.”
“As I agree that not only am I an unsuitable choice for a lady like her, but that a pampered Society diamond such as Lady Victoria would be a disastrous choice for me, I do not fear suffering any disappointment. And now that that’s settled, shall we resume our game?”
“Of course.” Father reached out and moved his bishop. “Checkmate.”
Nathan stared at the board and realized that he had indeed been vanquished. He looked across the room and his gaze collided with Victoria’s, who was watching him over the fan of her cards. He felt the impact of her regard as if he’d been sucker punched, and he greatly feared he’d been vanquished in more ways than one.
Twelve
Today’s Modern Woman must realize the importance of fashion in her quest for intimate fulfillment. There are times to wear a fancy ball gown, times to wear a negligee, and times to wear nothing at all…
A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of
Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment
by Charles Brightmore
Victoria left her bedchamber early the next morning with a determined step and a plan firmly in mind: locate Nathan and make certain he did not escape as he had from the library yesterday afternoon and from Lord Alwyck’s drawing room last evening. She’d not had the opportunity to have a private word with him since he left the library with the notes and map yesterday, a vexing situation to be sure. Her heart had leapt and her stomach trembled when she’d seen him standing in the foyer last evening before the group departed for Alywck Hall. And certainly not because he looked so dashing and rakishly handsome in his formal evening wear, or because of the heated, compelling look in his eyes. No, it was because she’d finally have a moment alone with him to find out what he’d been up to all afternoon. Yes, that was why.
But then Lord Sutton had appeared, followed quickly by her aunt and Nathan’s father. There’d been no opportunity during the crowded carriage ride nor through dinner and then games in the drawing room, all while she pretended an enthusiasm for the attention both Lord Alywck and Lord Sutton showered upon her when what she actually felt like doing was pulling Nathan into a secluded alcove and kissing him. Er, questioning him.
He’d departed Lord Alwyck’s home before the rest of the group, claiming the onset of the headache and stating that he wished to walk home, as fresh air usually helped relieve the condition. Sympathy eased through her, as he had indeed appeared out of sorts, and she’d wondered if his conversation with his father had been the cause. But then sympathy had turned to suspicion. Perhaps the e
ntire headache claim had been a ruse and he’d spent the night out searching for the jewels. He might well be out this minute doing that very thing. Without her. The wretched man. She all but stomped down the corridor and entered the dining room. Then halted.
Or, he might well be in the dining room eating eggs and reading the London Times.
He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and quirked a brow. “Ah, it is you, Victoria. With all that stomping about, I thought perhaps we’d been invaded by marching soldiers.”
Oh, how droll. How humorous. And how irritating that she wouldn’t think of a cutting set-down until sometime next week. And ‘twas even more irritating that he looked so divine. Dressed in a snowy white shirt adorned with an obviously hastily knotted cravat, a cream waistcoat, and a Devonshire brown jacket that bore several wrinkles, he should not have looked so… perfect. Especially since his dark hair looked as if he’d combed it with nothing more than impatient fingers. Hmmm… what color breeches was he wearing? She found herself rising onto her toes in an effort to answer that question, but the mahogany table thwarted her view. Fawn, most likely, she decided, envisioning his muscular legs encased in light brown. Forcing the image from her mind, she touched her heels back onto the parquet floor.
“It appears we are the only early risers,” Nathan said. He nodded toward the sideboard lined with silver warming trays. “Please help yourself. Do you prefer coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please.” The instant the words left her mouth, a young footman jumped into action to serve her beverage. After filling her plate with eggs, thinly sliced ham, and a flaky muffin the mere looks of which set her mouth to watering, she sat down opposite Nathan.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, raising his china cup to his lips.
“Very well,” she lied. She’d spent a miserable night tossing, fretting, alternately wondering if he was searching for the jewels without her and vividly recalling the taste of his kiss, the feel of his hard body pressed against her, wrapped around her. In desperation she’d retrieved the Ladies’ Guide from her portmanteau, but reading the sexually explicit book had done nothing to calm her. Indeed, the sensual words had only served to further fuel her already heated imagination. “Did you sleep well?”
“No.”
“Oh? Why not?” Skulking about in the woods looking for jewels, were you, Lord of the Spies?
“Do you really want to know, Victoria?”
Something about that silkily asked question and the steady gaze he’d pinned her with tingled a warning along her nerve endings. Pulling off a bit of biscuit, she raised her chin. “Yes, I do.”
He nodded at the footman, dismissing the young man. After the door closed behind him, Nathan leaned forward on his forearms, cradling his delicate china cup between his large palms. “I didn’t sleep well last night because my mind was too crowded.”
“So you were here? In the house?”
“Of course. Where else would I-” His words chopped off and he leaned back. “I see. You thought I was out skulking in the woods, looking for the jewels without you.”
His words so precisely mirrored her thoughts, a guilty flush heated her face. “Isn’t skulking about in the woods what spies do best?”
“I can’t deny it’s something I’m good at, but it’s not what I do best.”
“And what do you do best?”
His gaze dipped to her mouth, then he shot her a mischievous grin. “Ah, an interesting question if I’ve ever heard one. Are you certain you want to know the answer, Victoria?”
Heat whooshed through her and her toes curled inside her shoes. God help her, yes, she wanted to know. Desperately. Especially since that gleam in his eyes made it clear the answer was something that would leave her breathless. But it wouldn’t do to let him know that. Indeed, clearly the best way to deal with him was to play his game. Looking directly into his eyes, she asked softly, “Are you offering to tell me, Nathan?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Do you?”
He laughed. “Sometimes. Usually when I’m stalling for time. Is that what you’re doing?”
“Certainly not,” she replied with a sniff.
“As for what I do best, I’d be delighted to tell you. Even more delighted to provide you with a demonstration.”
Whoosh. Another wave of heat engulfed her. She attempted her most prim expression but wasn’t certain she succeeded, as it was difficult to appear prim while sensual images danced through her mind. “Here? In the dining room?”
“Certainly not the most traditional of locations, but if that is your wish, I’m willing to forgo convention.”
An unladylike snort escaped her. “You? Willing to forgo convention? Thank goodness I’m not prone to the vapors lest that statement would send me into a serious decline.”
He waved his hand in a magnanimous gesture. “Feel free to succumb. As I am a physician, I could immediately set you back to rights.”
“Immediately? So then doctoring is what you do best.”
A smile that could only be described as wicked curved his lips. “No. Doctoring is what I do when I’m not doing what I do best.”
Oh, my. Surely he didn’t mean… but, oh yes, based on that devilish grin, he clearly did. Despite the knowledge she’d gained from reading the Guide, she suddenly felt woefully unprepared to continue this conversation. In an effort to regain the upper hand, she adopted the chilly tone that never failed to put people in their place. “How delightful for you. Now, what is the plan for today?”
“Plan?”
“To locate the jewels.”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea.”
Victoria laid down her fork. “Haven’t the vaguest idea? After thinking about it all night long?”
“What makes you think that pondering the location of the jewels is what filled my thoughts last night?”
“Because it should have been. If I’d lain awake all night it most certainly would have been what I’d pondered.” Her conscience jumped up and shrieked with outrage. Liar! You were wide-awake, and maps and jewels were the last thing on your mind! She suddenly stilled. Was it possible that Nathan had suffered from the same sensual thoughts that had stolen her sleep? If so…
Whoosh. Good lord, it was hot in here. She barely refrained from fanning herself with her linen napkin.
“Then how unfortunate for our search plans that you slept so well,” Nathan said in a dust dry voice. “I did study the drawing and the letter further, but was unable to glean anything more. I also drew the grid map of the estate. I suggest we begin in the northeast corner and work from there. In the letter I sent off to your father yesterday explaining, in code, how you lost the note-”
“You mean how your goat ate the note.”
“-I requested that he send another drawing. Unfortunately, given the distances involved, by the time the note reaches him in London and a reply is returned, at least a fortnight will have passed. I’d hoped to have this matter settled by then.”
“So you can return to your home in-where is it again? Little Longstone?”
“Yes.” He tossed back the last of his coffee. “I’m certain you’re anxious for this matter to be settled as well so you can return to London. To your parties and shopping excursions and your suitors. So you can choose your husband and plan an extravagant wedding.”
“Yes, that’s what I want,” she said, a frown burrowing between her brows at the sudden hollow sensation in her stomach. She lifted her chin a notch. “You make it sound as if there is something wrong with that.”
“Not at all. If that’s what you want…” He shrugged.
Warmth crept up Victoria’s cheeks. How had he managed to make her feel so… shallow? Superficial? Every girl dreamed of fancy parties, shopping sprees, suitors, and her own wedding-didn’t she? Certainly all the girls she knew did.
Before she could inform him of that, however, he asked, “Tell me, did either my brother or Gordon question you last eve
ning regarding your replication of the note?”
“Yes. Actually, they both did. After you departed.”
“The three of you were together?”
“No. Lord Alwyck asked me when we had a moment alone.”
His eyes narrowed. “And how did you happen to have a moment alone?”
Feeling much more in command of the conversation, Victoria enjoyed another bite of eggs before answering. “He gave me a tour of the music room.”
“Where was everyone else during this tour?”
“My aunt and your father were engaged in a game of backgammon. Your brother had stepped onto the terrace.”
“What did Gordon ask you?”
“How much of the wording of the note I’d been able to remember and how much you’d been able to decipher.”
“And your response?”
“As promised, I revealed nothing. I played the part of the forgetful, foolish, giggling female.”
“He believed you?”
“Without a doubt. Clearly he is accustomed to the forgetful, foolish, giggling sort.”
“And my brother? I take it you found yourself alone with him as well?”
“Briefly, yes. After we arrived back here, as we walked up to the house. I used the same ruse with him.”
“His reaction?”
Victoria considered for several seconds, then said, “He clearly believed me as well. But he also seemed rather… relieved. Of course, now both gentlemen think me a cabbage-headed nincompoop.”
“On the contrary, I’m certain they think you girlishly charming.”
“And a cabbage-headed nincompoop,” she muttered. “Did they question you?”
“Yes. I told them that as you were a forgetful, foolish, giggling female cabbage-headed nincompoop, any search would be delayed until I heard from your father.”
Deciding nothing she said would be pleasant, she applied her full attention to her breakfast. After generously slathering her biscuit with blueberry jam, she took a bite, chewed, then closed her eyes in rapture. “This is the most delicious jam I’ve ever tasted,” she proclaimed, “and that is high praise, as I consider myself something of a connoisseur.”
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