DARE TO LOVE
By ALLEIGH BURROWS
LYRICAL PRESS
An imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp.
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my family. To my mom for introducing me to romance novels. To my dad for inspiring me with his creative writing skills. And most importantly, to my husband for tolerating both of these inexplicably “odd” habits, even when they came at the expense of family time. I couldn’t have written this without your unflagging love and support.
Since my kids never really believed I’d get published, they’ll have to wait until the next book to get recognized. Don’t worry, I still love you.
Acknowledgements
While I always considered writing to be a simple, solitary endeavor, I quickly discovered that writing a novel is very complex. I could never have made it to print without the advice and support from the Valley Forge Romance Writers, Written Remains, and the New Jersey Romance Writers’ Put Your Heart in a Book conference.
I’m certain my editors at Lyrical Press would say that I should have solicited even more advice. To you, I offer my most sincere thanks for helping to bring Dare and Nivea to life, by correcting my appalling punctuation, adverb fixation, and filtering obsession.
And finally, I’d like to acknowledge my friends, family, bunco players, and coworkers, for continually asking, “How’s your book coming?” Your unintentional pressure ensured I could never give up. Thank you all. I hope it lives up to your expectations.
“My Lord”
I know
that he’s entered the room without even seeing his form.
How? I do not know.
Perhaps a change in the air, a jolt to my heart, or a skittering up my skin.
But I am certain, when I look over, he will be there.
Tall and proud, aloof and cool, hair sleek, lip curled, heads will turn.
How can they not when he arrives?
I pray tonight he will see Me. And know
he is mine.
My lord.
Then he dances by without a glance, and I am lost.
Nivea Horsham
Chapter 1
Adair Landis braced himself on the bed as he gulped in a lungful of air. The scent of perfume and passion spurred him on, and with a few satisfying thrusts, he collapsed onto the quivering body of an obliging, young widow.
That had been a pleasant treat.
He lay there motionless for a minute or two until his heart rate settled, and then he rose from the bed. It was time to go.
He fumbled across the darkened room to find his shirt thrown over the nearby chair, and drew it over his head. Through the cloth, he heard his partner’s muffled sigh. “Oh, Adair, you were wonderful. I never dreamed it could be like that.”
Of course she hadn’t. But she’d been hoping. Dropping hints for several weeks, as a matter of fact. It wasn’t until today that he’d decided to accommodate her.
“I’m glad you were pleased.”
She hummed her agreement. Then, in a tentative tone asked, “Can you untie me now?”
Dare sat on the chair, thrust his feet into his breeches and yanked them in place. Once he was covered, he answered, “Certainly, darling.”
With a satisfied stretch, he strode to the large, four poster bed, leaned over and untied the black silk ribbons from her wrists.“Thank you for indulging me in my little fantasy. I hope you found it to be as scintillating as I did,” he said, offering a vague kiss in the direction of her forehead. Then he crossed to a brocade chair, grabbed his boots, and tugged them on.
The woman’s voice quavered as she sat up, rubbing her wrists. “Oh, Adair, are you leaving so soon?”
He nodded, turning his attention toward his cravat. With a few efficient folds, he’d tied it into a complicated knot with a skill most valets would envy.
“But when will you come back? Will I see you again upon your return?”
He spared her a brief glance as he pulled on his coat. “No, Victoria, I shan’t be back. But thank you for the delightful diversion.”
“But, Adair? I thought—I thought—” she sputtered.
“You thought wrong.” With that, he pulled open the door and strode out. At the sound of her indignant shrieks, Dare smiled. Victoria was his sister’s best friend. A well-bred, gently reared woman from a good family. His sister would be furious not only that he’d bedded her, but jilted her as well. Sometimes, life could be surprisingly sweet.
Content, he headed out onto the street, climbed into his carriage, and settled into the soft velvet seat. Reaching into his waistcoat, he withdrew a jeweled snuffbox and took a pinch.
That dalliance should hold him for a few days—at least until he arrived at the Horsham’s summer estate. No doubt there would be a few women there to entertain him. William’s sisters were no great catch, but they were sure to have an attractive friend or two he could trifle with.
The only downside was he had to make the tiresome journey with William’s sister, Nivea. Why he had agreed to convey Nivea to her family’s house in Durham was a mystery. One minute, he was congratulating his best friend on the engagement of his younger sister, and the next, he was trapped into escorting the elder sister to the wedding. While riding in a carriage with a young lady for a few days did not normally fill him with dread, this trip could prove the exception. As round as she was plain, it was no wonder Nivea was still on the shelf at her age.
While most men would not even consider allowing Dare to ride unescorted with their unmarried sister, William had no cause to worry. After all, Dare did have standards.
Chapter 2
Unaware of the scornful musings of her escort, Nivea continued to fuss with her appearance. Knowing she would be spending the next several days in the presence of Adair Landis, the future Marquess of Raynsforth, she had been making special preparations.
Nivea had developed a tendré for her brother’s friend when she was a young girl, and now, almost fifteen years later, she still felt no other man could compare. When she’d been informed she would be spending several days with him, she and her stepmother set out to finally make Dare notice.
Since her mother had died when she was a child, Nivea had never benefited from a woman’s guidance. Most of her upbringing had been dominated by her father and brother. Much as she loved them, she could hardly expect them to help her navigate the challenges of ton fashion. In fact, the very thought made her laugh.
Fortunately, her father had remarried a few years ago and her stepmother, Amelia, was happy to help give Nivea some much needed polish.
To prepare for this trip, Nivea’s hair had been styled by Monsieur Parardee, and she had been treating her skin with a myriad of creams to give it a soft, glowing appearance. Although she was larger than was fashionable, Nivea had packed her most attractive and slimming gowns for the trip.
Today’s creation was a mossy shade of green. The bodice was embroidered with flowers, with a light dusting of petals cascading down the full skirt. As she perched a matching hat on her soft, brown curls, she stared at her reflection in amazement. She would have to thank Amelia once again for all her advice and support.
At the sound of a knock on her front door, Nivea’s heart skipped a beat.
He’s here. Taking one last look in the mirror for reassurance, Nivea left her bedroom and floated downstairs. Entering the hallway, she stopped with a sigh. There was only a coachman standing in the front hall.
Of course, Dare wouldn’t come in, personally. How silly of me.
She pasted a smile on her face and nodded at the coachman. Before she could move, one of their footmen entered, having carried her bags
to the awaiting carriage. “Goodbye, Miss Horsham. Have a lovely trip. Be sure to give Miss Caroline our best wishes.”
“Thank you, Hartley, I will.”
She followed the coachman out and accepted his hand as he helped her into the carriage. It was a beautiful vehicle, lacquered black, embossed with gold, and pulled by a team of four perfectly matched Friesians. Dare Landis would accept no less.
Settling into her seat, Nivea turned to her escort with a wide smile, prepared to offer enthusiastic appreciation for the ride. The greeting froze on her lips as Dare flicked the briefest glance in her direction.
“Good day,” he drawled, before returning his gaze to the carriage window.
“Good day.” A blush flared up her cheeks. All this time preparing and he couldn’t be bothered to look at me? That was disappointing.
Still, not one to pass up an opportunity, Nivea took advantage of his inattentiveness to stare at him, uninterrupted. He was captivating as usual, his rich, dark hair combed back, framing his face to perfection. His jaw was firm and strong, his mouth drawn in an ever-present sneer, but his lips were so full they made women sigh. Ever the rakehell, he wore a tasteful and exquisitely tailored outfit—a blood-red jacket stretched across broad shoulders, and tan breeches molded his muscular legs. Finishing the look, his black boots were polished, spotless.
Only after a minute of relentless attention, did Dare turn his head in her direction. “Yes?”
Embarrassed, she managed to choke out a few words. “How long are you planning to stay with us at Vincent Hall?”
He raised an arrogant eyebrow and shrugged. “Until the entertainment grows dull.”
“With that attitude, I’m surprised you are going at all.”
“William is one of my oldest friends,” he responded, unperturbed. “I think I can manage a week or two in the country for his benefit.” Then he turned back toward the window, coolly dismissing her.
Feeling more than a little silly to have gotten her hopes up, Nivea slumped into her seat. The worst part about the exchange was she remembered a time when they used to be more comfortable in each other’s company. When they were younger, he didn’t seem to mind if she tagged along. She couldn’t understand why, once he’d reached maturity, he’d become so distant.
Determined to make the best of it, Nivea turned toward the window, watching the view change from elegant homes of the nobility, to shops bustling with customers, and finally the rolling hills of the countryside. During that time, there was nary a word spoken. Nivea wished she had the presence of her maid, but Emma had escorted Caroline to Durham in preparation of her wedding. Although traveling without a chaperone should have raised some eyebrows, Nivea knew she was so firmly on the shelf, no one gave it a second thought.
It was hours before they reached their first stop. Bunch of Grapes was a popular inn for travelers, boasting a large dining area. Despite the crowd, Dare acquired a small table away from the main traffic of the room. After the briefest inquiry into her preference, he ordered a light meal for her and a bottle of wine for himself.
His brooding good looks flustered the young serving maid, but she managed to stumble through the order. It was always that way around him. Dare could charm women senseless without the slightest effort.
While waiting for the meal, Dare spent his time glancing around the room, beguiling all the other women with his appreciative smirk. Nivea’s frustration grew. Why was it he chose to bed every other woman in London, but could not spend three days in her presence and manage to be cordial? She was able to make friends with almost everyone else she met—neighbors, tenants, and peers in the ton—but not the one man who made her world complete. Naturally, she hadn’t expected him to fall in love with her, but he could at least bestow an admiring look her way. He rarely missed an opportunity to eye up a female. Unless that female was her, apparently.
Once the food was on the table, Nivea picked at the roast chicken. After a few bites, without even the courtesy of a conversation about the weather, she decided she’d had enough. “Lord Landis, you have known my brother for over a decade. We have traveled in the same circles since I came out more than five years ago, and we spent virtually every holiday together since you were boy. You used to be quite pleasant, or at least civil to me, and yet in the last few hours, you have barely spared me a glance. If we are going to make this trip together, I have to insist you have the courtesy of at least addressing me.”
There. She’d done it. Her heart was hammering in her chest, from both anger and nerves, but she had stood up for herself and it felt wonderful. Until she braved a glance at him.
He was glaring at her as though he were the one who had been insulted. She suppressed a shiver as his eyes raked over her, a haughty sneer pasted on his lips. He opened his mouth to speak and then froze. She saw confusion flash in his eyes, like he’d made an odd discovery. Then it was gone. Through it all, he didn’t say a word.
Now she was fuming. “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me with your mouth ajar?”
Appearing to regain his senses, he answered in his usual, bored intonation. “I apologize, milady. I have been pondering how your family would react if I arrived at Vincent Hall without you. Is it worth the aggravation I would open myself up to? Since I think not, you will be happy to know we can continue on together as soon as you are ready.”
She slammed down her fork and stood up. “Let us go now then. The sooner this trip is over, the better.”
“As you wish.” He held out his arm, but she sailed out in front of him and climbed into the carriage.
The ride continued for a few more hours in relative silence. Dare had ordered the coachman to drive quickly, and he had taken the command to heart. The pace was so rapid Nivea’s bones were clattering. She decided the best course of action was to take a nap. It took a bit of effort, but she finally drifted off.
The shadows were growing long when the carriage gave a sudden jolt, throwing her from her seat. “Ack,” she screamed, snatching in vain for the cushion across the way.
The carriage tipped drunkenly to one side before slamming to a stop.
“Damn it to hell, what was that?” shouted Dare. He climbed upward, swung open the door, and leapt to the road with the grace of a cat. Nivea followed, but was considerably clumsier in her descent as she lowered herself from the elevated frame.
“What in the bloody blazes happened, Weldon!” Dare yelled, smacking his hand on the offending vehicle. Then, regaining his manners, he turned to her. “My apologies for the language. Are you all right, Miss Horsham?”
“Yes, thank you. Just a little shaken.” She would have appreciated a more thorough inquiry on his part, perhaps even a comforting arm around her shoulder, but instead he returned his attention to the carriage.
The wheel had gotten caught in a rut and snapped. They were fortunate it hadn’t flipped over entirely.
The coachman was bent over the axel, clucking with dismay. Straightening, he turned to Dare. “Milord, I beg your forgiveness. I thought it was nothing but a dark patch in the road. I didn’t realize we’d hit a ditch.”
Dare waved him off. “It can’t be helped. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Are the horses all right?”
“Yes, milord.” The coachman bobbed his head. “They be fine. But we’re stuck here well and good until we can procure a new wheel. Then we’ll have to return to Norwalk to check for other structural issues.”
Dare stood rigid, glaring at the coach, saying nothing. He paced from one end to the other, bent at the waist to examine the axel again, and still nothing.
With her heart pounding in her throat, Nivea waited. When no response was forthcoming, she squeaked out, “Well, what are we to do now?”
He cocked his head, as though surprised by her question. “We will have to return to town.”
Oh god, no. How could he even think that? “But it’s miles away.”
“Yes.”
“But…we’ll be well behind. We may
miss the wedding!”
He shrugged. “That is a distinct possibility.”
“It’s my sister’s wedding! I can’t not be there. There must be something we can do.” She tried not to sound like a hysterical female, but feared she failed miserably. The thought of missing Caro’s wedding was unfathomable. Dare would have to come up with a better solution.
He returned his attention to the carriage, apparently considering their options. It didn’t take him long. “Weldon! Unhitch two of the horses. Miss Horsham and I will take them and ride on. You wait here with the carriage. Someone should be along soon to offer aid. Then you can get the necessary repairs and meet us with the luggage at the next stop.”
“Yes, milord,” Weldon nodded.
Dare took a step toward the carriage, but drew to a sudden stop when he noticed Nivea’s expression. No doubt she was staring at him as if he’d sprouted a third head. “No, that will not work.”
“And why, pray tell, would that not work?” he asked, without sparing her another glance.
“I do not ride,” she answered simply.
Ignoring her, he reached for the buckle on the first horse. “Come now, I’m sure you prefer a carriage, but it is not an option at this time. If we want to make the wedding, we will have to ride the horses.”
“I hate horses.”
That stopped him.
He turned to give her his full attention. “You’re a Horsham,” he said, as if it explained everything. In fact, it did, to anyone in the ton. The Horshams owned some of the finest horses in England. They hosted the best hunts, won the most races, and rarely finished a conversation without an equine reference.
Nivea sighed. “That is true. It has been rather inconvenient in my family to not share their passion.”
“Not sharing their passion, I could understand. But you said you hate horses,” he repeated with bafflement. She almost laughed at his confusion, but this was a serious matter, and she had to make him understand.
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