by Anne Herries
He pulled her nightgown up over her head and let it fall to join his shirt on the floor. His gaze feasted on her naked flesh and then he bent his head to kiss her lips. In another moment he was beside her on the bed, lying with his heated skin touching hers, his hand stroking the satiny arch of her back as he pulled her closer still.
Lottie sighed with content, allowing him to stroke and touch her for a few minutes, then, because she could no longer hold back, she began to stroke his shoulders and to kiss his neck. Her nails lightly raked his flesh as she arched and moaned, not trying to hold in the feelings he was arousing in her. Nicolas did not want a clinging wife and she had done her best to keep something back, but her need was too great. She had lain alone too many nights, knowing that he was close and that she loved him, wanted him. Even if he guessed that she loved him, she could not hide her pleasure in his loving. Her screams and the desperate need she felt to have him inside her again and again had driven all else from her mind. He was her husband and she wanted his loving. She wanted him to possess her, to own her, to be a part of his flesh.
She wanted to make him forget the beautiful Elizabeth if she could.
Nicolas seemed to respond to her wanton need, driving into her again and again relentlessly, their cries mingling until at last she shuddered, gripped in a climax that was almost like dying, and he suddenly collapsed against her, his seed deep inside her.
For quite a long time they lay still, silent, holding each other, the desperate need satiated.
‘Nicolas,’ she whispered at last. ‘You won’t leave me again, will you?’
‘Go to sleep, Lottie,’ he said and kissed her brow. ‘I have to think. Tomorrow we shall have time enough to talk.’
Lottie woke and stretched. At first she could not remember why she felt so good, then she ran her tongue over lips that still tasted of Nicolas and everything came back. They had made love in such a tumultuous fashion, and then they slept. In the night she had woken once to find Nicolas still at her side. He had wanted her again, making love this time with a slow, sensual tenderness that left her weeping. He had hushed her, stroking her hair as her tears wetted his shoulder, and she mumbled something about love and then hoped he had not heard.
Nicolas would hate it if she tried to put chains on him. She had begged him not to leave her again and then told him she loved him. She would have only herself to blame if he asked her to go home or ran away himself.
Getting up, she wrapped a lace peignoir about her and went to his room. There was no sign of him and she guessed that he had gone out to ride, as he often did early in the morning. He had told her he needed time to think. Was he trying to find a way to tell her that he did not love her?
He had wanted her. Lottie was in no doubt of his need the previous night—but perhaps seeing that other men were attracted to her had aroused his interest. Or perhaps there was some other reason. He had been speaking with Elizabeth and been desperate because he could not have her. Lottie had gone to him, offered herself to him and he had taken advantage. That did not mean he loved her. She must not expect it…even though he had said things as they lay together.
Lottie used the water her maid had brought her and dressed in a pretty yellow silk gown. She would go down to nuncheon in a moment, for she had slept late. A jewel case was lying on the dressing table, but it was not one Lottie recognised. She opened it and discovered a beautiful diamond necklace. The stones were so large and so white that she gasped with amazement. Then she saw the little square of paper.
Family heirlooms. I had them reset for you, Lottie. You deserve the best. Nicolas.
Lottie stared at the note. She held the necklace to her throat. The diamonds were certainly fabulous, far more valuable than anything else Nicolas had given her. Why had he left them here? She felt a little nervous for they should certainly be locked away in Nicolas’s strong room except for special occasions.
She closed the box and stood up, remembering that she had left her pearls in Nicolas’s room. She went through and saw them on the dressing table. Picking them up, she returned to her own room and then halted as she saw the woman standing there. She had her back to Lottie but she knew her at once.
‘Clarice—what are you doing here?’
Her sister turned. She was wearing a racy hat with heavy veiling. As she lifted it, she revealed an oddly guilty look on her face. ‘I wondered where you were. Is that Rothsay’s room through there?’
‘Yes. I was retrieving something I left there last night,’ Lottie said and felt defensive as her sister’s eyes went over her with a flash of jealousy. She was aware that Clarice’s gown looked a little outdated, as if she had not had a new one for a while. ‘Why have you come, Clarice?’
‘Do I have to have a reason?’ Clarice asked. ‘That isn’t very nice, Lottie—considering you have me to thank for all this…’ Her eyes travelled round the room and there was jealousy in them.
‘Yes, I know. I am grateful that you pushed me into it, Clarice. I did not expect to be happy, but I am.’
‘Aunt Beth told me he spoils you.’ Clarice fingered the pearls Lottie had placed on the dressing table. ‘These are nice. I suppose you have plenty of pin money—you couldn’t lend me a couple of thousand, could you?’
‘I don’t have anywhere near that much, and, as I told you at Rothsay, even if I did I couldn’t give it to you.’ Lottie said. ‘Are you in trouble, Clarice?’
‘Philippe is—he owes thousands. If he doesn’t pay some of it, he will be arrested and imprisoned. What shall I do then, Lottie? You have all this and I have nothing.’
‘This…’ Lottie indicated the room about her. ‘This belongs to Nicolas. He shares it with me but I do not own it. I cannot give you a thousand pounds, Clarice—at the moment I have no more than two hundred pounds.’
‘Give me that, it will help for now.’ Clarice said. ‘Don’t be mean, Lottie. You would have none of this if it were not for me.’
Lottie felt guilty. In much the same way that she always forgave her father his faults, she loved her twin just as dearly. To see her suffer broke her heart. After all, she was so lucky to be Nicolas’s wife and she owed her happiness to Clarice. If she had not spent so much on clothes she could have given her sister more. She opened the top drawer of her dressing chest and took out a wooden casket, opening it to remove the small bag of gold coins.
‘There you are, Clarice. I am sorry it isn’t more, but I have spent my allowance for this quarter.’
‘I’ll come back for the rest another time,’ Clarice said, flew at her and kissed her cheek. ‘Goodbye, Lottie. Remember that you owe me.’
She pulled the veiling over her face again and turned to the door. She opened it, looked out and then disappeared through the aperture, leaving Lottie staring after her. She felt slightly sick. How on earth had Clarice managed to reach her room without being seen or announced? Her reminder that she could have been Lady Rothsay had she chosen had left Lottie feeling uneasy. She wished her sister had not come.
Something made her look at the jewellery case that Nicolas had left lying on the dressing table that morning. Her stomach clenched and she reached for it somehow knowing what she would find. She opened it and saw that the necklace was missing. Clarice had taken it. Her own sister was a jewel thief. She had taken a priceless heirloom and then had the effrontery to ask for money.
Rising to her feet, Lottie went out and ran along the landing to the top of the stairs to look down at the hall. Clarice had gone. She must have fled the instant she left the room, knowing that Lottie would look for the necklace sooner or later.
How had she managed to get into the room while Lottie’s back was turned? She had been wearing veiling over her face. They were identical in build and height. If the servants had seen her walk up the stairs they would have assumed she was Lottie; Clarice had probably even been admitted to the house and mistaken for her. It was likely that no one would know she had been to the house.
What was she to do? Lott
ie sat staring at the empty jewel box, then opened a drawer and slid it inside. Could she contact her sister and demand that she return the necklace? Clarice would simply deny having taken it and Lottie could prove nothing. If no one had seen her, there was no proof that she had ever been in the house. Besides, how could Lottie admit to Nicolas that her sister was a thief?
She remembered that he had accused Clarice of stealing some guineas from his friend’s pocket in that gaming house in Paris. He had been disgusted by her behaviour then—what would he think if he knew that Clarice had come here on purpose to rob them? Lottie wondered uneasily if her sister had taken anything else. She glanced around the bedchamber, but everything else seemed to be in place.
‘Oh, Clarice,’ she whispered. ‘Why did it have to be the diamonds?’ If it had been her pearls or something less important, it wouldn’t have mattered so much—but Nicolas was bound to ask about the necklace.
Nicolas would expect her to thank him. He would naturally expect to see her wearing them—and what could she say?
Lottie was close to tears. She had hoped that they would be closer after last night—but if she told Nicolas that Clarice had stolen the diamonds he would be so angry. He might accuse her of having given them to her sister—or of being the thief herself.
She did not know what to do for the best. Feeling restless, Lottie decided that she would go out for a walk. She could not go shopping because she had no money left, but she was too upset to sit in the house and wait for Nicolas to return.
When she met Mr Hunter as she was entering the park, Lottie was glad that she had brought her maid with her. It had been tempting to go alone, but it would not be thought proper for the Marchioness of Rothsay to walk alone.
‘Lady Rothsay,’ he said, sweeping his hat off and making her an elegant bow.
‘Mr Hunter.’ Lottie inclined her head coolly, hoping to be allowed to walk on, but it was not to be. He stood deliberately in her path, making it clear he meant to make the most of this chance meeting.
‘I shall join you on your walk. It is a pleasant day, is it not—though I believe a mite cooler than of late?’
‘The summer has deserted us,’ Lottie replied. Since he would not take a hint and leave her to walk in peace, the weather was a safe topic. ‘I dare say you will soon leave for the country, sir?’
‘Oh, no, I have every intention of staying in town for a while.’
‘I plan to return to the country quite soon. Excuse me, I see Lady March and I must speak with her. Good morning, Mr Hunter.’
She beckoned to her maid, who had dropped behind, and headed for a young woman she had met recently whom she rather liked. Mr Hunter had accepted his dismissal this time, but she was conscious that his eyes still watched her as she walked away.
What she did not know was that the brief interlude had been seen by a man on horseback.
Nicolas was frowning as he left his horse in the mews and walked back to his house. Why had Lottie been walking in the park with Mr Hunter at this hour of the day? He had left her sleeping and had imagined she would not go out before the afternoon, when he had intended to take her shopping.
The diamond necklace he had left on her dressing table was only the first of several gifts he intended to give his lovely wife. He was thinking that they might take a short trip to Paris, which was where he should really have taken her after their wedding. There were so many plans in his head concerning the future that he had gone out for an early ride to blow the cobwebs away.
Why had she slipped out in the early morning to meet Hunter in the park? He had only caught a brief glance of them, talking earnestly, it seemed to him, and had no idea of how long they might have been together.
He fought his unworthy suspicions, forcing them to a small corner of his mind. Lottie might have met with Hunter by chance. He must not jump to conclusions, but it had made him realise that he did not care for other men paying his wife too much attention. Yet there was surely no harm in what he had witnessed. Just because Elizabeth had led him on, allowing him to believe that she loved him, only to laugh in his face when he proposed to her, it did not mean that other women were the same. Lottie was warm and loving and the previous night he had believed that she truly cared for him.
He still hesitated to use the word love. Lottie had enjoyed their lovemaking and clearly felt something for him. Since Nicholas did not believe in love he would name it affection and admit that he felt the same for her.
Yes, he was fond of Lottie. She had somehow managed to get beneath his skin and he would hate to lose her now.
Chapter Thirteen
Nicolas returned in time for nuncheon. He smiled as he joined Lottie at the table in the smaller of the two dining parlours. Since there was just the three of them the formal dining room would seem awkward and too large. He took his place at table and smiled on the two ladies already seated.
‘Forgive me if I have kept you, ladies,’ he said. ‘Tell me, what are your plans this afternoon?’
‘We must call on some of my friends,’ Henrietta told him and nodded to the footman serving soup. ‘Thank you, Henderson, just a little.’ Her gaze transferred to Nicolas. ‘Had you a particular reason for asking?’
‘I thought Lottie might like to go shopping with me?’
‘Thank you,’ Lottie said, her cheeks a little pink. ‘I should like to go another day, Nicolas, but Henrietta thinks I should meet some ladies who do not often go into society. Also I must thank you for the beautiful gift you gave me, Nicolas.’
‘I am glad you liked the necklace, Lottie. You should wear the diamonds tomorrow evening when we attend the Duchess of Argyle’s annual ball. It is one of the largest of the summer and generally means that she will be leaving town. After next week only the hostesses who seldom leave London will be entertaining. Their dinners are usually for politicians and academics and rather dull affairs—unless you have an interest in such things?’
‘I must say that I do prefer a gathering of artistes and musical evenings, but I dare say some such company may still be found?’
‘Then you do not intend to return to Rothsay just yet?’
‘Perhaps I may stay another week or two,’ Lottie said and helped herself to a dish of turbot. ‘If that does not inconvenience you, Nicolas?’
‘Why should it? I was thinking of inviting a shooting party to Rothsay for the autumn, but that is a few weeks away yet.’
‘In that case I shall return a week ahead to make sure everything is in order.’ Lottie glanced at Henrietta. ‘Will you remain in London, dearest?’
‘Not after you have gone,’ Henrietta said and smiled at her. ‘I visit occasionally, but stayed longer this time for the pleasure of introducing you to society, dearest Lottie. I think we may say that your début has been successful—would you not agree, Nicolas?’
‘Yes, Lottie has caused a stir, especially amongst some of the gentlemen.’ Nicolas looked at his wife. ‘Did you enjoy your walk this morning, Lottie?’
‘Yes, I walked in the park for a while, Nicolas. Did you happen to see me?’
‘Just for a moment or two, Lottie. I like a ride first thing, you know—but I was surprised to see you. I thought you might have wanted to sleep in a little?’
‘Oh, well, when I woke I felt the need of some exercise.’
‘I see…’ Nicolas inclined his head. ‘I shall not see you this evening. I have a card party and may be late. Do not wait up for me, Lottie.’
‘We have a soirée,’ Lottie said. ‘If you are late, I shall see you in the morning, Nicolas.’
Lottie glanced down at her plate. The succulent turbot tasted like dust in her mouth. It seemed that nothing had changed. She had imagined that after last night Nicolas would suddenly become the charming lover of her dreams, but he seemed to have withdrawn once more and she had no idea why.
If she had not been feeling so guilty over the loss of the diamonds, Lottie thought she would have excused herself to Henrietta and spent the afternoon wit
h her husband. It was becoming increasingly obvious to her that they must talk seriously. Nicolas could not blow hot and cold for ever and expect her to accept his moods. They must come to a proper arrangement so that she understood what he expected of her—did he want a wife who was always willing to welcome him to her bed or not? Last night he had taken her with such passion she could swear he cared for her, but this morning the mask was in place once more.
She saw him looking at her, his eyes dark and brooding, and she sensed that he was angry, but fighting his anger. What on earth could she have done to make him angry? Surely he couldn’t know about the diamonds already?
What on earth was she to do about them? If Nicolas had not suddenly gone cold on her again she might have told him the truth, but she was afraid that he would not believe her. Something was definitely troubling him.
True to his word, Nicolas was out late that evening. Lottie heard him come in well into the early hours of the morning. She lay listening for a few moments, hoping that he might change his mind and come to her, but he did not.
She could not bear this a moment longer! Getting out of bed, Lottie went through into her husband’s room and saw him lying fully clothed on the bed. He had not even bothered to take his boots off. Had he been drinking again?
Lottie frowned as she bent over him, but could not smell excessive wine on his breath. She pulled off his long boots and peeled back his hose. His feet looked white and soft; tempted beyond bearing, she bent her head and kissed one. Then she pulled a cover over him and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at him. Her hand reached out to brush hair that was a little too long back from his forehead.
‘My dearest love,’ she whispered, then bent and kissed his forehead. ‘Please try to love me, Nicolas. I do love you so.’