Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2)

by Maggi Andersen

  “Indeed. I am very fond of my horse.”

  She frowned at him. “But surely you must intend to marry and have children?”

  “One day, perhaps.”

  “Why do many men marry so late in life?”

  He cocked an amused eyebrow, but his gaze roamed over her as if memorizing every part of her. “I imagine one waits to feel the urge.”

  She drew in a slow breath. “Perhaps you dislike the idea of marriage.”

  There was something lazily seductive in his smile, which quickened her pulse. “When I choose the lady, I shall be very keen on the idea.”

  Was there a lady in London? The flash of jealousy was unlike her. “You’ll make a good father,” she said hastily.

  “If I am not prematurely aged by your brother and sister, I suppose I would become quite an old hand at it,” Nicholas said wryly as Bella ran back along the path to reach them.

  “My puppy’s name is Daisy because she has a white patch on her forehead in the shape of a flower, and Jeremy calls his Bandit because he looks like a rascal.”

  “I approve of them both,” Nicholas said. “But I see Miss Scotsdale is waiting for you.”

  Scotty stood on the porch, arms folded, looking purposeful.

  “Oh. I forgot about my French lesson,” Bella said casually and ran over the path.

  “Bella!” Carrie shook her head.

  “Your sister is happy. Don’t be too hard on her.”

  “I can see you will be entirely too lenient, Nicholas,” Carrie said to help banish the disturbing emotions churning her stomach. “I shall come home for a visit and find her running riot.”

  “Bella needs to trust me. It’s best to allow her a certain amount of freedom. And we may not see you here for a while. Your circumstances are likely to change.” Nicholas clasped her arm as they stepped up on the porch.

  She twisted away and glared up at him, seeking an emotional outlet for her uncomfortable feelings. “You think I’d forget those I care for most, Bella…and Jeremy...and…”

  His lips lifted in a half-smile. “Not for a minute. And I have every intention of taking Bella to London to see you. I’ve promised your brother a trip to see the animals in the Tower.”

  “Oh, you are good,” she said, pleased he’d offered. But was she also pleased because she would see him in London? She’d almost included him in those she cared about. Had he noticed? He’d shown no sign of it.

  After Nicholas left her, Carrie gazed around at the walls of the great hall, the marble fireplace, the elegant furniture, the portraits. She had called this home. How foolish it wasn’t her home and never would be.

  Carrie entered the music room while trying to come to terms with her troubling emotions. She shut the door and drew up the piano stool. Selecting a piece of music, her heart full of unfulfilled desire, she began to play.

  Chapter Ten

  As Nicholas climbed the stairs, the beautiful strains of Beethoven’s Fur Elise floated down from the music room. He made his way there and opened the door. So engrossed in the bagatelle, Carrie didn’t notice him. Caught by the depth of emotion she imbued in the music, he let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding and slipped into a chair.

  The stirring music swelled over the room. Inspired by Beethoven’s love for a woman, perhaps. Carrie’s slender fingers moved over the keys. Her feet worked the pedals, revealing her dainty ankles. His gaze traced the swell of her calf, revealed through her muslin dress, and up the graceful length of thigh. When his gaze roamed from her pert bosom beneath the pleated bodice to the burnished curls resting against her pale nape, he dragged his gaze away.

  The music stopped. “Nicholas?”

  Aware his body had stirred inappropriately, he stood and turned toward the door. “Exquisite, Carrie. Please continue. Don’t let me interrupt you.” He hurried from the room, seeking the sanctuary of his library.

  But even after he seated himself at his desk and his secretary, who would be leaving his employ soon, presented him with letters to be signed, the music was in his head and his heart. He would always equate that beautiful piece of music with Carrie.

  He needed a good, long, hard ride alone tomorrow to clear his thoughts. And he had just the destination in mind.

  The next morning when Nicholas entered the breakfast room, Jeremy looked up from the remains of his eggs and bacon. “Are we riding to the ruins today?”

  Nicholas’s mind had been on the morning ahead. He shook his head with a distracted smile as the footman brought his coffee. “Best to wait a day or two, Jeremy. We’ve had torrential rain all week. The river floods the lowlands, which is why they built this house on higher ground.”

  “But it might rain again tomorrow and the day after that,” Jeremy protested, pushing away his plate.

  Carrie frowned at him. “You must be patient, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy puffed himself up, looking every inch a young lord. “But will we ride at all today?”

  Nicholas noted the lad’s restlessness. “Yes, later on, a ride to the river, perhaps. I have something I must do this morning.” He nodded his thanks to the footman, who placed a plate of kidneys before him. “Amuse yourself for a few hours, Jeremy. Visit the dogs. See how your pup fares.”

  Carrie buttered a piece of toast. “Yes, that’s a splendid idea, Jeremy.”

  “What do you intend to do, Carrie?” Nicholas asked.

  “Bella and I are going for a walk.”

  “Where are you going, Nicholas?” Bella asked.

  “There’s someone I must see.” He left half his breakfast uneaten and hastily threw back the last of his coffee. Then he pushed back his chair and left the table before more questions he had no intention of answering were leveled at him. “If you’ll excuse me, I shall see you at luncheon.”

  In the gun room, Nicholas loaded his pistol. At the stables, he mounted Aquilo and rode north, intent on discovering the man Vano had told him about who camped on his land. The thought of this stranger harming Bella or anyone else had been on his mind.

  Smoke from a campfire rose in a gray spiral against the blue sky, pinpointing the man’s position. The ground was still boggy after the rain, the river racing past beneath the bridge.

  When Nicholas rode close enough to the campfire to observe the man’s movements, he dismounted and tossed Aquilo’s reins over a bush. From behind a tree, he saw a thin, hunched figure poke at the flames with a stick, and drew his gun.

  Nicholas stepped out and covered the distance between them. He halted a few yards away and cocked his gun. The man’s back stiffened. “Turn around, hands in the air,” Nicholas ordered.

  He turned. Wide blue eyes stared at Nicholas, his face gaunt and tense. He straightened and saluted. “Captain.”

  “Bloody hell.” Nicholas uncocked his gun and tucked it into his breeches as he approached his former sergeant. “Can it be you, Warren?”

  “Captain Ambrose. Sorry, it’s Lord Pennington now, isn’t it?” Michael Warren removed his hat and combed his hair with his fingers. “I have water on the boil. May I offer you a cup of java? I’m afraid there’s no milk or sugar.”

  “That will do nicely. But what are you doing here?” Nicholas observed the man’s deft movements as he poured water from a metal pot into two cups. Warren had been an orderly soldier, one he had once relied on.

  “It’s a long story. I heard you’d sold out after Waterloo.”

  “Yes. Lost my father and Emory, my older brother.” Nicholas found a rock and perched on it.

  “I was sorry to learn of their passing. That must have been hard.”

  He took the chipped cup Warren handed him and wrapped his fingers around it, allowing the warmth to seep through his riding gloves. He raised it to his mouth and drank. The bitter coffee warmed his cold insides. Finding his sergeant in these straits filled him with a helpless rage. He despaired at the state of his countrymen.

  Warren sat beside him and took a deep sip. “This is my one indulgence. Never los
t the taste for coffee. Reminds me of better times.”

  Nicholas knew how paltry a soldier’s pension was. “Were you planning to come and see me?”

  Warren shrugged. “I’m on the lookout for a day or two’s work. I knew you to be fair-minded and popular with the men. But I decided against it. I was about to pack up and move on.”

  “Well, as I’m here now, let’s hear that long story.”

  Warren hesitated; his knuckles whitened as he held the cup. “When I returned home after Waterloo, I discovered my father had died, and my brother took over our property. He kicked me out.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  He evaded Nicholas’s eyes and lowered his head over the cup. “We didn’t get on. Not since a woman we both wanted chose me. A sore point with him, made worse because my father favored me. Peter never got over it.”

  “It appears you’ve had more than your share of bad luck.” Nicholas motioned to the meager camp. “But what led you to this?”

  “I first joined the soldiers filling London in search of work. Times are still bad after years of war. Many desert the country and crowd into the city.” He straightened his shoulders. “But I’m better off than most. I still have my limbs and my sight.”

  “The Duke of Shewsbury has set up a foundation to help ex-soldiers,” Nicholas said. “Heard of it?”

  Warren shook his head. “Too many ahead of me there.”

  “But why have you had no success? You’re an educated man.”

  His expression turned bitter. “My brother spread lies about me in the city, and people shut their doors to me. I gave up seeking the work I’m trained to do. But I wanted to get out of London, found it hard to breathe there.” He shrugged. “I struggled to regain a sense of myself after the war. Life is easier out here.”

  Nicholas inclined his head in agreement. He knew what war could do to a man. But he wasn’t about to patronize him.

  “Been traveling the country for about a year now,” Warren said, draining his cup. “When the stranger, Vano, told me whose estate this was, it surprised me.”

  Nicholas made a snap decision. “Fortuitous, perhaps. My secretary, Paul Williams, has inherited a property and plans to marry. I am searching for his replacement. Would you consider the position?”

  Warren’s eyes widened, and he attempted to tidy his overlong hair. “I would be grateful, Cap...milord.” He gazed down at his ragged clothing, his broken nails, and the ingrained dirt on his hands. “I’m not in suitable shape for such a post.”

  “That is easily remedied.” Nicholas grinned. “A good soak and a haircut will do wonders.” And a few square meals. “My valet will take care of it. He’ll drum up some clothes to fit you for the time being.”

  Hope crept into Warren’s eyes. “That’s generous of you, milord.”

  “Nonsense. I know how much pluck you have. You saved many lives during the war.” There were still too many good men unrecognized by the government for their years of service, starving on the streets of London.

  “Why don’t you pack up here and come to the house. I’ll alert my butler, Abercrombie.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’d prefer the servants’ entrance, milord.”

  “Whatever feels comfortable. The staff will expect you.” Nicholas rose to leave. “Do you have food?”

  “Enough rations for a day or so.”

  “Come when you’re ready.”

  Warren straightened. He raised a hand to salute, then dismay darkening his eyes, he bowed instead.

  Nicholas chuckled. “None of that.”

  Warren grinned. “Sorry, milord.”

  The matter needed sensitive handling. Nicholas didn’t want to rob the man of whatever pride he had left. He’d seen it too often. A man could be stripped of so much that he lost sight of himself. And the path back was hard. Would Warren show up or move on? He wasn’t entirely sure. Nicholas hoped he would stay. Warren was reliable, and he liked him.

  He rode back to the house. When he entered the stable block, his head groom hurried over to take his horse. “I thought you should know, my lord, Lord Leeming has ridden off on the chestnut.”

  Nicholas frowned. “Alone?”

  “Yes, my lord. I suggested he take Daniel, but his lordship said he didn’t need a groom as he had your permission. I suspected he didn’t, but…” He shrugged.

  Nicholas eased his tense shoulders. “Did he say where he was headed?”

  “North. Said he wanted to follow the river to see where it led him.”

  “He might not get far. The river overflows its banks in some places.” Aquilo needed food and water. “Saddle Prince. I’ll return in a moment.”

  When Nicholas entered the house, strains of Beethoven drew him to the music room. Carrie looked up as he came in. “It appears your brother has ridden off somewhere.”

  “With a groom?”

  “Refused the offer of one.”

  “Oh, how foolish of him.” She rose quickly from the piano.

  “Did he mention anything to you?”

  “No. He must have gone to visit the dogs as you suggested at breakfast.”

  “Perhaps.” He was about to leave the room when she called him. “But it disappointed him not to see the ruins.”

  “Do you think Bella knows where he’s gone?”

  “No. She has been in the schoolroom all morning.” She hurried over to him. “May I come with you?”

  “No, Carrie. I must leave right away.”

  She followed him from the room. “But it’s best I deal with him, as he listens to me. Can you not wait for me to change?”

  Nicholas searched her worried face, his admiration for her tinged with frustration. He wished he could enfold her in his arms to ease her anxiety. “Jeremy is now my responsibility,” he said in a gentle tone.

  “You seem concerned. Might he have taken it into his mind to go to the ruins of your ancestral home?”

  “If that was his intention, he is unlikely to succeed and is probably riding home this very moment. The river will have flooded the low-lying meadows.”

  Her eyes widened, and she put a finger to her mouth. “Jeremy is stubborn. He’ll find a way through.”

  Nicholas stepped closer and took her hands. “I’m being overly cautious. Jeremy will be with his pup. He’s likely to arrive back any minute.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, but her expression spoke of her doubts.

  He took her hands and gently squeezed them, his thumb stroking her smooth skin. Aware of the inappropriateness of the gesture, he released her hands. “Don’t be too hard on Jeremy if he comes back before I do. Wait for my return. I don’t want him getting his dander up and storming off somewhere again.”

  Carrie inclined her head, seeing the sense of it, her big eyes searching his in appeal. “I’m sure you’ll find him, Nicholas.”

  Her faith in him made his chest tighten. What if he failed and Jeremy reached the ruins? With a reassuring smile, he left the room.

  Nicholas would bring Jeremy safely home. He refused to consider anything else. He was soon back in the saddle, and after fighting Prince to make him understand who was in charge, rode to the kennels.

  When he arrived there, apart from the din the dogs made to see a visitor arrive, there was no sign of Jeremy.

  Bevans came over to him. “Can I help you, milord?”

  “Have you seen Lord Leeming today?”

  “No, milord. Hasn’t been here.”

  “If he comes back, tell him to wait for me in the library.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  Nicholas turned his horse and, with a curse, rode toward the ruins.

  ***

  Carrie had rushed to the window in time to see Nicholas riding away on a black horse. She watched him until he was out of sight. She’d allowed Jeremy too much latitude while Papa was ill. He and Bella roamed the estate ungoverned. Now their behavior proved a never-ending source of worry for Nicholas. Jeremy’s ears would burn when he came home.
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br />   She decided not to tell Bella. There was no sense in worrying her. Back in her bedchamber, Carrie stood at the window overlooking the driveway. Behind her, Anna kept asking her questions. Carrie struggled to concentrate, hating her helplessness. She wished she could have gone with him. The wait would be interminable.

  Finally, after leaving instructions for the maid, she left the room.

  Another hour passed. It grew late. Surely Jeremy would have returned from the kennels by now, unless he didn’t go there. She spun away and walked the length of the porch beside the towering Doric columns.

  Abercrombie stood at the open door. “Would you care for a cup of tea in the sitting room, Miss Leeming? I will alert you immediately if someone arrives.”

  “No, thank you, Abercrombie.” She rubbed her arms, her gaze on the drive. “I prefer to wait here.”

  Carrie’s pulse skittered at the sound of a horse’s hooves clattering on the gravel. She stepped off the porch to see if Jeremy had returned.

  Prince galloped into view, riderless, reins trailing, and continued around the house, disappearing toward the stables. Carrie’s blood chilled. She ran back into the house. With an anxious glance, she brushed past Abercrombie, who had remained at the open door, and flew upstairs to change into her riding habit.

  Shortly afterward, she met Bella in the corridor.

  Bella stared at her. “You’re going to ride. Why wasn’t I invited?”

  “Come downstairs with me. I’ll explain as we go.” Carrie took her arm and urged her to the stairs.

  Bella clutched her hands in distress when they reached the entry hall.

  “Has anyone come, Abercrombie?” Carrie asked him.

  Concern etched into his features. “No, Miss Leeming.”

  “I’m going to look for them. If Nicholas arrives, please tell him.”

  “Don’t go without me,” Bella wailed.

  She rubbed Bella’s arms. “Dearest, I need you to wait for Jeremy.”

  “But what if he doesn’t come before nightfall?”