To his amazement, her eyes welled with tears. "No, my love. I want to relieve you of your pain so you can finally heal."
The sympathetic worship in her soft green gaze was like the sun shining on the sharp icicle that had encased his grief for so long. He did the only logical thing to preserve himself. He retreated, pulled away.
"Just like a woman to want to change me." Glaring, he took an aggressive step forward. "I'm not one of your dyes to manipulate until it suits you. What you see is what you get."
"That would be fine if it were true. But what I see is a man who wants to live a good life, who's suffering from what he believes is crimes of his past. The incident with William is crippling you, hindering you from enjoying all life's joys."
"There is no joy. Haven't you figured that out by now? There is only momentary pleasure." He took a step back.
"If you're about to run, do so now. But I'm going to continue up the hill to see if I can glean some truth regarding the circumstances of this tragedy." She pivoted and marched up the hill, her determined step reminding him of some ancient warrior princess facing a dragon. What could she prove? He didn't know. But he found himself morbidly fascinated. He had not come to this bluff again and had never thought to do so.
He hadn't quite realized he was following her until she stopped and looked at him. "This is where I imagine you were standing when the incident occurred." She grabbed a broken limb. "I'll mark the place." She pushed the end into the rich soil. Turning, she headed toward the drop-off covered by thick undergrowth and vines, coming precariously close to the edge.
As swiftly as he could, he grabbed her arm, his heart hammering, stunned that she uncannily knew so much about the incident. On the heels of that realization, fear over seeing her near the edge, at the exact spot from which his brother had fallen, caused his heart to stop. "You are a danger to yourself."
Rotating, she gave him a beatific smile. "See? You're no murderer. You warned me before I took that fatal step."
"Bloody hell, woman, I have no reason to want you to die."
"And William?"
"People say I wanted the title, and perhaps I did."
Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. "I don't believe it," she said. "Now where was I? Ah, yes. William stood in front of you." With a delicate finger, she indicated the spot. "His back faced the cliff."
"You were in Nottingham when I killed my brother." Although he wasn't certain of this, he said it as a statement.
"I was."
"Did you follow us up here?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.
"No," she replied in a calm tone.
"Then how do you know where we stood?"
"You're not going to like my answer."
"Tell me anyway."
"Remember how Lady Charlotte said she dreamed about me and, therefore, begged Clarence to include my name on that invitation? The pixies were responsible, and I think they used their magic to give me a dream about the past."
"I would be more apt to believe that you have the sight," he muttered, wondering why he had been shackled with such a woman.
"To return to my dream, I don't know what sort of animal William saw when he stopped here, so close to the edge, but he looked out over the cliff. In the dream, I had the feeling it was a deer or a boar. He motioned for you to halt and pointed, slowly taking aim. You wanted to shoot the beast before he did, so you nudged him out of the way. William fell and hit his head."
"You're right about one thing."
"Only one?"
"You have the location correct. But we had quit hunting." He pulled her back from the bluff.
"What were you doing?"
"We were arguing about the rightness of Father's decision to give Windsor Manor to William instead of me."
"Why would your father do that? Teresa said it was customary for the Earl of Falconwood to give his second son an estate on his twenty-first birthday. It was a known fact that the Earl bought Windsor Manor for you."
"I'll wager that wasn't all she said," he muttered. "Why don't you listen to Teresa's very valid warnings about me?"
"Because she's wrong, and I wager she'll come to the right conclusions about you and herself very soon. Did you know that she goes to the Madam Electra's so that she can talk to William?"
"Excuse me?"
"Yes. Didn't you ever wonder why she would risk her reputation like that? She has guilt, too. The two of you could do wonders for each other if you would merely open the door."
"Her guilt is imagined. She didn't kill William."
"You haven't answered my earlier question. Why did your father take your inheritance away?"
The sigh that escaped his chest did nothing to relieve the tightness there. "Father didn't like my stance on the excise tax issues."
"How did William take your father's high-handedness?"
Malcolm didn't want to talk about it, but the words came anyway. "William agreed, saying that I was too narrow-minded on political issues. I countered and said he was too selfish to think of anyone but his small group of friends. I purposely goaded him, knowing he would be angry and attack me in return. We grappled. I stepped back, causing him to fall over the cliff." He pointed toward another part of the precipice that was covered in vines.
"So he did it to himself."
"No. Didn't you hear me? I knew how he would react, and goaded him into fighting." He grasped her by the shoulders. "Don't you understand by now that you cannot save me?"
"Don't you understand that you were brothers and that you loved him?" she countered. "How many times had you done that before, goaded him, and nothing came of it? I'm from the village, too. Growing up in these parts, I remember seeing you two wrestle and heckle each other about it later."
His chest throbbed. "You cannot make this inconsequential child play, Nicola."
"I can and will. You always took the blame for everything. Always. I was there when William hid rotten eggs in Lady Pemberly's coach. I saw how you were accused. You never said anything. You merely took the punishment, getting half rations for a sennight."
"Why are we talking about my bloody childhood? What does that have to do with anything?"
"It has everything to do with what you are today. When are you going to stop taking punishment for the sake of your brother?"
"You are fit for Bedlam."
"Am I?" Reaching for her bodice, she unhooked the front.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he watched her bare her breasts. "Nicola?"
"Proving a point." Cradling the back of his hand, she brought his palm to her breast. "You even punish yourself by denying my love for you." With a boldness that took his breath away, she cupped his already growing manhood. "That's lust," he growled.
"Prove it. Make love to me, and then tell me what is in your heart." Reaching up, she pulled his head toward her.
He was helpless. Settling into the warmth of her lips, he devoured her. Her taste never ceased to enthrall him. Like an aphrodisiac from the Far East, the exotic taste, feel and moves had all become familiar to him, yet were still new. Barely realizing what he did, he carried her from the cliff, and then tumbled her onto the rich grass.
By now he should know her. This should be as common as his old Hessians. But it wasn't. How could he still savor the silkiness of her skin, the manner in which she sighed when he stroked her buttocks and thighs? The scent of her lemony cleanness complemented the earthy smells of a spring day that held a hint of rain. Right now, at this moment, he couldn't imagine a time when he wouldn't be overcome by thirst for her.
Then he was plunging into her delectable warmth. "Say that you love me," she commanded.
He panted, wanting to resist, wanting to give in.
"Say it," she demanded, pushing on his shoulders in a silent urge for him to roll over.
He did, ignoring the root that dug into his back. With a move that stole his breath away, she sheathed him in her, an erotic torture that would strain any man's resolve.
"Say the words.
" Her whisper wafted over his lips, warm and sweet.
"Heaven help me, but I think I do."
"Now say you didn't kill your brother."
"If you say so," he growled, past the ability to reason. With a fierceness that left him gasping for air, she grasped his hips and pulled him in deeper.
The rhythm thickened his blood, sent it pounding through his shaft and whole body until a sheen of sweat covered him. That, combined with the scent of Nicola's own musky arousal, the sight of her splayed atop him, her breasts a tantalizing breath away, her uninhibited nature as she moved to make them one, caused him to unravel into a million threads. One final squeeze of that silken- ness and he gave himself over to the vortex, spiraling down, down, down into Nicola's delicious warmth.
He must have dozed because when he opened his eyes, the sun had shifted.
She lay next to him, her head propped on her hand. "Did you ever notice the color of William's eyes?"
A rock jabbed his hip. "Mm?"
"Your brother's eyes. What color were they? Brown?" Abruptly, the memory of his brother's eyes was so keen that his chest burned. "Blue. They were blue. As deep and brilliant as the Clockwork Blue."
"That's a beautiful sentiment. It's why you wanted it so much." She stared at him in tender wonder, and he felt a hint of self-forgiveness break over him.
A light rain began to fall. A curl of hair clung to the dewy nape of Nicola's neck. He moved it with his nose and buried his face in her softness. When the rain increased, he lifted her to her feet. She began to hook her bodice.
"Leave it," he said. Adjusting his breeches, he swept her into his arms.
"Malcolm? I can't return to the manor like this," she said. She began to pull together her bodice.
"Leave it just the way it is," he murmured. He pulled her hand away, savoring the view. "I'm not through with you yet. I want privacy, so I'm taking you to the hunting cabin."
"Oh, Malcolm," she whispered and stroked his damp hair. A bead of water clung to her nipple and he lifted her up to suckle, savoring the taste of her mingling with the fresh rain.
As he carried her into the small haven, he came to a decision. He would relish this time with her. Who knew what the future might bring? It didn't make everything better, but he could allow himself some happiness.
Chapter 23
She'd led Malcolm into the light. Nicola whistled a happy tune as she stood in the dye house and inspected a swatch of recently-dyed fabric.
Finally he'd realized he wasn't to blame for the accident. Now he would be able to enjoy life, as he should, and she had created the most beautiful yellow dye to celebrate their love. Smiling, she envisioned Malcolm's happiness when she showed him the special cloth that the stockingers worked on now, woven with the Clockwork Blue and the new dye.
"Exactly as I intended."
The yellow color would always remind her of their glorious afternoon making love on the cliff, and the fierceness of that union. It hadn't ended there. In the cabin he'd insisted on kissing her dry, sipping the rain from her body. In fact, for the past handful of days it had been an afternoon routine to go to the cabin to spend several hours making love. The feeling she'd never before experienced. How could she be so deeply in love? She realized that she'd never known what love was until meeting Malcolm.
Now he would live his life as he should, free from guilt and pain. Now he would represent the bill that Nicola had salvaged after Ramsey had thrown it in the hearth in Malcolm's office ten days ago. He would embrace life, would become the leader he was destined to be.
"Congratulations, lass," Allegro whispered near her ear. Surprised, she turned to find him hovering near her face.
"You did it. You tamed the Black Falcon." Allegro's mouth curved up almost to his pointy ears.
Returning the contagious grin, Nicola stood staring at the pixie for several moments. Then she noticed the baggage in his hand. "You're leaving?"
"Yes. When the couple is safely in love is our cue to go."
"Where is Glissando?"
"He's coming."
The air suddenly sizzled and popped with a glittering green to produce Glissando. "Goodbye, lass." He wasn't smiling. In fact, his narrow forehead wore a deep crease. Seeming distracted, the pixie glanced out the window up at the sky.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Allegro flew in front of Glissando. "Right, Glissando?"
After a slight pause, Glissando nodded.
Allegro shrugged. "Unless it's that he'll miss you."
"Quite right, lass," Glissando replied. "I will miss you."
A rush of affection swept her. "And I will you, also."
"We've got to go now," Allegro said, flying toward the door. "So long!"
Glissando hesitated and looked around, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He chewed on his lower lip. "I want to stay."
Allegro zipped toward him in a flash of yellow. "You can't. We've got another job waiting. Maestro says we're through here."
"But I say we're not."
"Glissando..."
He glanced at Allegro and seemed to wilt. "Oh, all right," he said with a sigh. Luggage in one hand, Glissando waved with his other. "Farewell, Nicola."
She studied Glissando. He looked the same with his wiry figure and kinky green hair. Yet something was different. "Will you be all right, my dear friend?"
His eyes glittered suspiciously before he blinked. "I'll be fine." Throwing her a wan smile, he followed Allegro. They both disappeared in a flash of colored sparkles.
Nicola looked after them for a long time. In the hush of the lengthening shadows, a dark, sinister sensation stole over her. Her heart iced over as a dark evil hovered nearby. She frowned, wondering why she felt so cold and alone. Glissando's depression must be catching, she decided. She would miss them. That was all. So why did a dark phantom seem to steal over her soul?
The door banged open. "He's deporting me, Nicola!" Ramsey yelled. "You can't let him do it."
"What?" she asked as she watched Malcolm stride into the shop, his mouth set in a grim line.
Malcolm halted next to her cousin. "I'm not deporting him. I'm sending him on tour with your Mr. Hamilton. Gaspar will accompany them."
When Malcolm stepped aside, she realized the tutor stood behind him.
Ramsey jutted his chin. "I'm not going."
"Yes, you are," Malcolm said, the muscle in his jaw hard as granite.
Gaspar stood like the Pavilion behind Ramsey.
Her cousin's chin jutted out even farther. "I won't."
Nicola wiped her hands on a drying cloth as she contemplated Ramsey, trying to understand the situation. "Why are you being so stubborn? There's no reason for you to stay. Your education is important, especially now that you've decided to pursue a seat in the House of Commons."
"The Luddites need me." He threw Malcolm a look of disgust.
Malcolm didn't blink.
Nicola set her scarf aside and considered Ramsey's flushed cheeks. What was wrong? "I thought you would forgo that route of destruction. Malcolm, didn't you tell him of your change in heart?" she asked, turning toward him.
"What change?" Malcolm asked.
Something was definitely wrong. "Why, the fact that you plan to introduce his bill."
The stillness of his expression scared her. But there was something more, something that sent a frisson of fear to curl in her stomach: the absence of the warmth and love in his eyes she'd begun to cherish over the last few days. Could she have mistaken those times of intimacy? She had given him her whole heart and soul. What if he couldn't love her in return? The thought made her whole being crumble like cold ash. Holding the panic at bay, she gave him a steady look. "Can I have a word with you alone?"
"Gaspar, keep an eye on Ramsey," Malcolm said before following her into her small office.
Please, please, let it just be insecurity rearing her ugly head, she prayed. However, she didn't think she was imagining the chasm between them. It throbbed and writhed as the
deep hollowness grew. Had she been wrong? Surely not. Surely he loved her as she loved him. Though he hadn't said as much.
Her throat swelled with such fear she could hardly talk. She swallowed painfully. "I-I thought all this week, things had changed with you, with us."
"I never gave you any indication that I would introduce the bill." He continued to look at her, his expression remote.
Clockwork Blue (The Lumière Chronicles) Page 29