by Claudy Conn
Ness felt the heat in her cheeks. She could see his point of view. She had let him kiss her. She did come to his cave in the dead of night. He had heard some gossip about her. All at once, she saw the humor in it all and laughed. “You, my lord, are certainly a fiend to throw my reputation into my face. Especially in light of yours.”
He had been in the process of pouring a glass of wine and putting it in her hands. He smiled softly at her. “So then, our reputations make us friends? So be it, we shall call a truce. I certainly want one, because, my lady, you are a mystery to me, a mystery I would like to unravel.”
She sipped the wine and wrinkled her nose. “I am no mystery…at least not to those who know me.” She sighed. “Don’t you think it an odd thing…this business of reputations? One does one thing and suddenly…” She flung out her hands. “There you are with a reputation.”
He laughed out loud. “Aye, though I have certainly given the gossip mongers cause for their prattle, I admit it freely.”
“Yes, I suppose I have as well. You see, I think a woman should be able to do what she can without social restrictions. At any rate, it is your London excursion into vice that started yours, I think. I have been wondering about it. Whatever could have moved you to take such a course? After all, my lord, you weren’t in the first blush, were you? I mean, I should think you had gone that route during your salad days?”
He put up his chin. “I wouldn’t call seven and twenty being in my dotage, sweetheart!”
She laughed. “No, nor would I, but then, as I said, you weren’t fresh out of school…were you. No, there is always a reason and yours couldn’t have been sowing wild oats.”
“You think not? Then allow me to explain. I came home from the war, perhaps a bit disillusioned, tired, having taken lives…lives of men fighting for an ideal, just as I had been at first. I found myself drowning in self-loathing and pity.” He shrugged.
“No, that doesn’t fadge with who you are. You are giving me a round tale, and it won’t do. I would rather you didn’t say anything if you are going to tell me a lie,” Ness answered, frowning. “You must remember, I have a brother, and we are in the habit of exchanging the most outrageous confidences, so I am not a green girl. You came home from the war a hero. You went knowing you were going to take lives. No…your story is idiotic.”
He put up his hand in some exasperation and said, “Do you know, I am inclined to believe what they say about you.”
“Are you? You will be sadly out then, for my life is tragically dull compared to what they say. But let us not change the subject,” Ness countered.
“The subject?” He smiled ruefully. “Am I to understand then that my life is the subject at hand?”
She smiled benignly. “Dearest demon, you know that it is, and I shan’t tell you why I am here until you confess all. It was a woman, wasn’t it?”
He looked at her sharply. “You are very perceptive.”
She inclined her head and sighed. “I should love for you to go on thinking so, but I am not really. You, my lord, are a romantic. You would like to appear a cynic, but, you see, I am well acquainted with a real cynic, and you are nothing like Lord Byron at all. So, shall I guess what she did, or will you tell me?”
He threw up his hands in surrender. Their eyes met and he whispered, “I don’t know what it is about you that makes this all seem so right, you and me talking as though we have known one another a lifetime.” He shrugged. “Very well, as you say, I was, the key word being was, a romantic. When I saw her that first time, I was four and twenty and thought she was an angel.”
Ness laughed. “No woman is an angel.”
“So I came to realize. She was not much younger than I and I was off to war. She promised to wait. I had reason to think she would.”
Ness eyed him for a long moment. “I am surprised she did not! You are out of the ordinary good-looking, virile, titled, wealthy, good lord, the girl must have…”
“Aimed her sights higher,” he put in on a note of contempt. “Though I do thank you for your flattery.”
“T’wasn’t flattery, my lord. Well then, she did not wait.”
“No, she took on a lover, some brawny servant, I was told,” he said, and took the glass from Ness’s hand and sipped the wine, looking directly into her eyes as he did so.
“No flirting like that with me, my lord. Now, what do you mean she took on a lover—a brawny servant. You said she set her sights higher.”
“If you will allow me to continue,” he shot back at her. “Ah, how does the story go? Yes, the angel of my dreams got herself with child and therefore could not wait for me. No. She found herself an ancient duke, and within a short span of time, managed to convince him the child was his.” The viscount looked away at this and then added casually, “From all accounts, they seem reasonably content with one another. So then, a sad story ends well.”
Lady Ness took the glass of wine back, downed its contents, returned it to his hands, and plumped herself down on a pile of clean straw. His story provoked a contradiction of feelings within her breast. She finally sorted these feelings out and looked up to find him watching her. She pulled a grimace and said, “Oh, don’t look like such an injured puppy. You must have been quite an innocent not to have seen through that ‘angel’s’ character. How very naïve you were at four and twenty. Faith! I am but one and twenty and have a great deal more sense than you did then. Tell me, for a creature of her stamp, you plunged yourself into hell?”
The viscount had never been dressed down by a woman, especially a woman upon whom, for some inexplicable logic, he wished to make a favorable impression. He was taken aback and stumbled to his defense.
“You…you don’t understand. How could you? I thought her…”
“I know, ‘an angel’, you have said. You created a being that didn’t exist and then were shocked to find she didn’t exist. Absurd.” She clucked her tongue. “My poor demon, such a sad excuse for going on such a protracted London binge.”
“Excuse. Me.” He was greatly astounded by her reasoning and beginning to believe she was correct, right down to every letter of every word.
“Well, really, why would you expect anyone to be perfect? She was lovely, so you could not imagine her flawed. We are all flawed. You wanted her to conform to your notions of what a beautiful wife would be. You never bothered to look past the façade.”
“Enough!” he said exasperated. “If you are trying to say I wronged the lady, so be it, I am paying for that now.”
“No, that is not what I am saying. I am clearly saying you wronged yourself.” She sighed and he found her blue eyes intense with sincerity.
He frowned at her. “Nonsense.”
She sighed and waved a hand. “Fine. It has naught to do with now…the here and the now. Things are in such a muddle for you, but never mind, we shall get through it.”
“Shall we?” He arched a brow at her. “Pray, how will we accomplish such a feat? The odds, you know, are not in my favor.” What was she suggesting? Did she, could she actually, honestly mean to help him? And if so, how? He poured more wine, and as he only had the one glass, took a long sip before he handed it to her. She downed it and smiled.
For a moment, looking at her, he felt almost young and free. She was so full of enthusiasm for life. And her smile, which always reached her eyes, was ever-ready. Oh, he liked this chit, too damned much.
She brought him back to reality when she reached for and touched his hand. “My lord, things do look bleak at the moment. I shan’t try to do you up brown with a round tale or two, but this afternoon, I discovered something I think might be helpful to you in the future.”
“So,” he said, and felt a wave of sadness rush through him. He should have sent her home immediately. She shouldn’t be here with him, risking her all for a stranger. “You should go before your absence is discovered.”
She waved this off. “Nonsense. Everyone is asleep and no one shall discover I am gone, and even if they did
, ‘tis Lady Penrod after all. She has always been there for me. Now, what was I saying?”
“That you discovered something this afternoon,” he said, marveling at her. “Which means you did have a reason for entering the demon’s den.” He hoped she saw the tease in his eyes.
She giggled and said, “Shall I demure and say that no, I came to be romanced and ravished?”
“Yes, at the moment, Naughty Ness, I think I would like to hear that.” His voice was husky and he was surprised at the level of desire he felt for the minx sitting coquettishly near him.
She was still on the straw. He dropped down beside her. She lifted a brow and a hand to her heart and said, “My lord, every propriety is offended.”
“But are you?”
“Alas, no,” she said softly.
He wanted to kiss her again, and it was with extreme effort that he stopped himself. She cleared her throat and said, “I came to tell you that I paid a visit to the vicar today. Sad to say, the good vicar did not hold you in high esteem.”
The viscount grimaced. “That is putting it gently. The vicar despised me. I offended his sense of propriety, you see.”
“Well, it was because you had the audacity to dally with Melony Fry and he held Melony in great affection. In fact, he wanted the poor girl for himself and she rejected him.”
“Did he? Did she? I would have thought she would jump at the chance to marry someone who could have provided her a living,” the viscount said thoughtfully.
“Obviously, she wanted someone else. Was that someone else you?” Ness asked casually.
He eyed her darkly. “No. She flirted with me, yes, but it never went anywhere. I always thought she had a tendre for someone, but I never knew who.”
“So, you and Melony were not lovers?”
“No, as I said, we passed a few idle moments…but, sweetheart…”
“Right, so back to the vicar,” she interrupted him. “There you were dallying with her in public and incurring his wrath and making yourself an enemy.”
“Yes, but I would not have...er…how was I to know I was stepping on the vicar’s toes.” He shook his head. “My beautiful sweetheart…”
She put up a finger and glared. “There, you have said it again. I let it pass before, for I suppose it is part of your cavalier fashion, but I am afraid it now rankles. I am not your sweetheart. We called a truce, you and I, and now must be friends.”
He inclined his head and restrained his quivering lip, but could not help nudging her shoulder and asking, his eyes full of fun, “And do you always allow your male friends passionate kisses, as you did me?”
“Well, in truth, I won’t say I haven’t been kissed during my London Season last year. I was most certainly kissed. They were handsome rogues…with a great deal of charm and…”
“They?” He found himself mildly irritated. “How many?”
“Hmmm…four, indeed, for I don’t count Henry’s kiss. He made a mess of it and only caught half my mouth.” She laughed. “But that is neither here nor there. I was testing the waters, curious, you see. Most of my friends are married and I have heard such interesting things about…shall we call it romance.”
He was enthralled by her. There was an innate honesty that glowed like a halo over her head, and yet she was absolutely no angel. He shook his head and chose his words. “And the kiss you allowed, nay, returned wholeheartedly to me? Was that curiosity?” He was aware of a breathless feeling in his chest as he waited for her response.
“Ah, how do I answer that? I don’t think I was simply curious. No. I can’t say that. What I will say is that your kiss was vastly different than the other kisses I have experienced.” She frowned and with a finger, indicated her wish to drop the subject as she added, “Nevertheless, I am not here for that. I have given you honest answers. I wish to help you and your sister, Mary, if you will but cooperate. We, you and I, need to draw up a plan of some sort and then carefully execute it, because, my lord, to date, your situation is not being handled correctly.”
“And you think you can handle it…er…correctly?” What sort of woman was this? No more than a child really, why would she put herself in such an untenable position?
“Well, yes. For one thing, I can do what a man cannot. I elicited the information from the vicar’s housekeeper that Melony had one very dear friend. Her name is Bess Widdons. Did you know her?”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, how should I. I scarcely knew Melony. She was a pretty lass who passed a few moments with me now and then when I came across her in town. Nothing more. But where does this lead?”
“You see, men don’t think of these things. A woman’s closest friend usually knows everything there is to know about her friend’s life and loves. When women put their heads together, we often confide our expectations, our hopes, our loves, and love’s disappointments. Do you not see?”
“You think Melony knew her killer and her friend would know his name?”
“It is my hope because I think her killer was the father of her child,” Ness said without blushing. “I tried to find Bess today, but I think she is in hiding. I shall keep trying.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because her family…her servant was not helpful about her whereabouts and yet unconcerned about where she might be.” She pushed herself forward and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I shan’t give up and if I have to shake it out of her, I will have the name of Melony’s lover, for depend upon it, he is a cold-blooded killer who looked to put his crime at your door. Unconscionable.”
As she started to rise, he couldn’t stop himself and his large hand went to hers. He turned her in the straw to face him and her blue eyes seemed to bore right into his soul. Her expression was one peculiar to herself. It spoke volumes and he smiled. “No, have no fear, I don’t mean to take what you don’t want to give.”
She demurely looked into her lap and said, “What then?”
“Why, my Naughty Lady? I want to know why.”
“Why what, my lord?”
“Why are you going to such trouble over me?”
“Over you? I don’t know that I am going to any trouble over you precisely, though certainly, I think I like you and that is something. However, you have a sister, and if I believe that you have been used in this plot as you say you have, as I believe you have, then I am afraid your sister is in danger.”
“Then your efforts are for Mary?” He found himself anxious for her response. What was wrong with him?
Ness only smiled.
* * *
Lady Vanessa Grey had waltzed her way through two London Seasons, received offers that she was able to neatly, and without hurt, turn down. She had been hailed the incomparable, a diamond of the first water, and a wit. Yes, she was titled Naughty Lady Ness, but it was her heart and her fortune that had made the beau monde deem her thusly with affection.
She did not play games. She was always sincere in her dealings with others. Even so, his husky voice asking such a leading question sent her into an internal flurry of emotion. She couldn’t laugh it off, and she didn’t want to look into her heart and give him a candid response. He was a rogue with the ladies. If she allowed herself to fall into his dark eyes and lose herself, she would be lost, and end with a broken heart.
How could she blurt out that she hadn’t even met his sister yet and every effort had been for him…for him, and that she didn’t want to investigate why—not now. She said, “You thought I came here tonight because the Naughty Ness wanted some excitement. Perhaps that is it. What else is there to do in Cornwall, after all?”
He got to his feet before her and put out his hand. She gave it to him and he pulled her up and into his arms. “Is that so, Naughty Ness?”
His mouth closed on hers and she allowed it. His tongue gently probed and taught her a new dance that sent a rush of heat through her body and melted her knees all over again. He held her tightly to him so she did not fall when that kiss turned into another.
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Stop him, Ness, the voice of reason bellowed.
She pushed at his chest with more strength than she evidently needed for she nearly fell backwards, and would have had he not caught her around the waist.
He smirked and she glared at him. “Don’t be so smug, my lord.”
He retrieved her cloak without responding and slipped it around her shoulders. She felt his eyes on her as she secured her mare.
She and the viscount laughed as Shadow whinnied sharply when she was forced to leave the stallion who had been nuzzling her.
They walked in silence together down the narrow sandy beach and up the incline. At the top she tilted her head and gave him a half-smile. “May I beg a leg up, my lord?” She could have lowered her stirrup.
He looked long into her eyes, and she knew at that moment she was in danger of losing her heart. He said, “Cannot the indomitable lady find a way to scramble up her mare’s back?”
“I don’t think that is worthy of you, my lord. Indeed, this carefree life has stolen your manners.” She gave him an arched brow that said ‘two could play’. “If I have to, I could, you know. Make no mistake.”
He laughed. “I don’t doubt it, my beauty.” He put his hands beneath her bent knee and said softly, “On the count of three, love?”
The numbers counted, he hoisted her so she landed neatly and gently on her mare’s back. His hand rested a moment on her thigh. She felt her body clench beneath his touch. He frowned suddenly. “It goes against my grain to allow you to ride alone over the moors at this hour.”
“You, my lord, don’t have a choice, and I have a path I stay to. It is tried and true,” she answered lightly, but saw that he still looked concerned. “Rest easy, my lord. You have naught to fear. I shall do.”
“Then good-night, love,” he said.
“You shall miss me terribly if I don’t come tomorrow night, you know.”
“And why wouldn’t you come?” he asked with a boy’s grin.