"I...." Mr. Grey shook his head. "Do you think the Prince will be named as Regent?"
"I'm sure he will be. From all I've heard, our King's condition worsens. Because of the trouble with Napoleon and the rumblings of the upstarts in America, a strong hand is needed."
Mr. Grey finished his drink. "I feel their accusations are just. We need no trouble with them when all our strength is needed to defeat the French."
"You have the right of that." Drew lifted the packet of papers.
A footman entered the room and bowed to Drew. "My lord, Miss Gordon has her party assembled in the hall and awaits your pleasure." He turned to his employer. "Burns has put a carriage and driver at their disposal to transport their luggage."
Drew thought of the trunks already at Denmere. How much more could his future wife want or need? He remembered his father's shouts and his mother's tears. They had argued constantly about her desire for jewelry and clothes. The man she'd gone away with had been able to provide her with all the luxuries she craved. But she had left that man as well.
His wife would soon learn to live within the allowance he granted her. Though she brought wealth to the marriage, he would hold control.
He followed Mr. Grey from the room. He walked to his betrothed's side.
She smiled. "We are ready and it lacks a quarter hour of the time you set." She reached for her sisters' hands. "You've met Margaret. This is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, the Earl of Denmere."
The girl was neither child nor woman. She curtsied. "I am most pleased to meet you, my lord."
Though she gazed at him through lowered lashes, there was no hint of shyness in her eyes. She showed a promise of great beauty, yet he found neither her looks nor her manner to his liking.
"Charmed." The word emerged clipped. The chit reminded him of the flirtatious young women he had no patience with. For the first time since he'd hurried home to deal with Aldora's disaster, he felt thankful Nicola Gordon would be his bride.
He turned and shook Mr. Grey's hand. "I'll be in touch with you about the business matters and we'll see you at Denmere in five weeks."
Mr. Grey nodded. The older man hugged each of the girls. He pulled on the end of Margaret's braid. "No mischief, child. Cook may never recover from the discovery of a live chicken in her cooking pot." He turned to Elizabeth. "My dear, take time to be a child. One is grownup for too many years." He embraced Nicola.
Drew didn't hear what the older man said to her. He struggled with a primitive urge to wrest his future wife from the older man's arms.
She stepped away from Mr. Grey and turned to Drew. "My lord, there are two other members of our family you haven't met." She indicated the dark-skinned couple. "Prabha, our amah and her son, Sarad, have been members of our family since I was born. Sarad is my best friend."
The warmth in her voice raised a bolt of jealousy. His hands clenched. Her best friend. Why did this announcement upset him? He had no reason to believe her caring for the young man went beyond the responsibility and duty she felt toward her family.
He nodded in acknowledgment. "Let us be away. Our destination is at a distance." He strode to the door.
Once the women were inside the coach, he climbed onto the box beside Jem. The Indian boy rode with the driver of the second coach. Drew flicked the reins and concentrated on the route through the bustling streets of town and into the countryside.
At dusk, they reached the inn where he'd arranged for rooms. Had he known the size of the party, he would have rented a third sleeping room. While Sarad carried the portmanteaus upstairs and Nicola herded her sisters and the female servant after him, Drew spoke to the landlord and arranged for a meal to be served in a private parlor.
As he turned to leave the common room, a commotion in the hall pulled him to the door. Margaret raced down the stairs with Nicola on her heels.
"Margaret, come back."
The door of the inn opened and a dandified young man sauntered into view. Margaret plowed into him. His cane flew into the air. The elaborately arranged neckcloth unraveled. His hat landed on the floor beneath him.
Drew choked back a laugh. The incident couldn't have happened to a more deserving man. Viscount Devonley was a man full of himself and the wealth he stood to inherit on his elderly father's death.
The doomed man sputtered. Nicola Gordon laughed softly. Drew's shoulders stiffened like a soldier's at attention. Her laughter brought images of his mother to his mind.
"Margaret." Drew pointed to the private parlor. "Go inside and wait for me." The child couldn't continue to behave like a hoyden.
"Well if it ain't the Parson Earl."
Drew extended his hand and helped the young man to his feet. "Devonley."
Elizabeth approached. "I am most sorry about your accident. My sister's behavior is at fault."
The young man's eyes narrowed. His lips curled into a smile. "And who might you be?"
Drew breathed in relief when Miss Gordon pulled her sister away. "She's a young relative of the Dowager's. I'm escorting her to Denmere for a visit." No need to announce the girls' identity, Drew thought. News of Aldora's granddaughters would sweep through the ton all too soon.
Devonley retrieved his hat. "How old?"
"She's still in the schoolroom."
"Pity. I would have given her anything she asked."
"And I would have called you out."
Devonley's eyebrow arched so high, Drew thought it might touch the lock of hair arranged so artfully on the young man's forehead. "No insult meant, Denmere." He sauntered away. "Who would have thought the Parson Earl would stoop to duel?"
* * * *
The Parson Earl, Nicola thought. How very apt. She had seen the same judgmental look on his face as the one worn by the vicar in Calcutta. He strode into the room. She pulled her sisters toward the fireplace and gathered them close.
He halted in front of her. "Do not think to protect them from a wigging." He glared at Margaret. "From this moment, you will behave like a young lady and cease playing the hoyden." He turned to Elizabeth. "And you will behave in a demure manner. Bold flirtatious ways won't be tolerated in my house."
"Yes, my lord," Elizabeth said.
He tapped a booted foot against the wooden floor. "Margaret, I await your answer."
"Yes sir, I mean my lord."
Nicola wondered if he'd seen the flash of defiance in her sister's brown eyes. Since their father's death, Margaret had acted like a kite cut loose from its string. And Elizabeth craved the approval of every man they met.
A buxom woman backed into the room and placed dishes from a tray on the sideboard. "Your supper, my lord." She flashed a smile at the Earl.
Nicola stared. The low cut neckline of the woman's dress barely covered her bosom.
The Earl reached into his pocket and flipped a coin to the woman. She caught it and tucked the money in the top of her dress. "Thank ye kindly, my lord. Be there anything else I can do for ye, I be in the common room." She ran her tongue across her lower lip.
He smiled. Nicola felt tightness grip her chest. After her mother's death, she'd seen the same look on the faces of several Company wives who had come bearing food for the poor motherless family. One of them had offered her father comfort. Would the Earl accept the woman's suggestion? Nicola let out a slow breath when the dour expression returned to his face.
"That will be all," he said.
Nicola moved to the sideboard and filled plates for her sisters. She set aside some vegetables for Prabha, who despite Nicola's urgings, had remained in the room where they would sleep that night. Aboard ship, they had taken their meals together. Since their arrival in London, Prabha and Sarad had returned to their servant roles. The change troubled Nicola for she considered the pair as family. So had her father. He'd been training Sarad to take over the business.
During dinner, each time Nicola looked up, she caught the Earl staring. His blue green eyes appraised her with the same intentness she used to examine the gems her fath
er had bought. Was something amiss? Were her manners faulty? How had she earned the disapproval of the Parson Earl?
He wasn't the kind of man to display the closeness she wished to share with a husband. Love, laughter, tenderness, caring, the kind of passion Parvati and Siva had found.
He smiled. Her body vibrated with an energy she couldn't define. "Is there a problem, my lord?"
The smile faded. "None that five weeks won't end."
She frowned. In five weeks, they would be married and he would control not only her sisters' fortunes but also hers. Was he planning to abandon her and lead the life she'd heard the servants at Mr. Grey's house describe?
"Them nobs give no thought but to pleasure. Them chance more money than I see in years on the turn of a card. Drink enough to make them reel. Them seeks the company of ladybirds that lets a man do what he wants."
Once dinner ended, Nicola picked up the plate of food she had set aside for Prabha and pushed her sisters ahead of her to the stairs. Inside the room where the trundle bed had been pulled out, Margaret put her hands on her hips. "I don't like the Earl. He's mean."
"But handsome," Elizabeth said.
"I want Papa." Tears rolled down Margaret's face.
Nicola pulled her sister into her arms. "Don't cry."
Elizabeth huffed. "I would like Papa to be here, too, but he's dead. Why must you behave so foolishly? You knocked that young man down. He stared at us like we were fakirs in the market."
"And you fluttered your eyes and acted like a monkey seeing a piece of fruit."
"Enough wrangling," Nicola said. "I find myself in agreement with the Earl regarding your behavior. Both of you. Wash and go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow."
Margaret made a face. "Must you marry him?"
"Papa wanted me to." Nicola walked to the window and stared into the courtyard. What had happened to her dream of finding a hero like Siva? His love for Parvati had come in a sudden awakening. She wasn't sure she had the kind of patience Parvati had shown.
She removed her dress and pulled on a linen nightgown and a woolen dressing gown. While Prabha brushed and braided her sisters' hair, Nicola laid out dresses for the next day. Then she slipped into bed beside Elizabeth and drifted to sleep.
* * * *
Moonlight dappled the forest glen. She edged between two trees and saw him. He sat at the edge of a small pool and stared at the distant dark mountains. The scent of jasmine filled the air.
She sighed. "If he would but notice me, he would love me as I love him. Alas, it is said grief burrows into his bones."
She crossed the clearing and sat in a Lotus position facing him. For many nights, she had come and kept a silent vigil. He smiled. Her heart fluttered like the wings of a dove. He held out his hand. Her fingers touched his and her yoni throbbed.
Gracefully, he drew her to her feet. He put his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. His lingam swelled and throbbed against her.
* * * *
"Nica, Nica, you must wake up."
Nicola rolled onto her side. "What?"
"He has been to the door and wishes to leave as soon as we are dressed. Breakfast has been delivered. Hurry, we must not displease him."
Nicola reached for the wet cloth Margaret held. She washed her face and rinsed her mouth with the spice water Prabha had mixed. There was barely enough time for a cup of tea and a slice of toasted bread before Sarad arrived for the portmanteaus.
Remnants of the dream lingered, but there was no time to ponder why she'd seen the Earl instead of Siva. She pushed her sisters to the door. The Earl waited at the foot of the stairs. He held a watch in his hand. A scowl darkened his features.
Nicola shuddered. In her dreams, he had become Siva, but she felt sure his soul had been invaded by demons she could never drive away.
Papa, why, she cried silently. Though the reports from Mr. Grey had mentioned the Earl's serious and industrious nature, they had neglected to say he had a diamond for a heart. He would never cherish her the way her father had held her mother in his heart. Nicola couldn't imagine the Earl shedding tears if she should die.
With her head held high, she strode past him. Once in the carriage, she leaned against the squabs. Tonight she would tell him they wouldn't suit.
* * * *
The sun hadn't begun to fade when the coach halted in front of a rambling stone inn. Nicola waited until her sisters and Prabha alit before she moved to the door. The Earl held out his hand. She hesitated. To touch him would bring a rush of sensations she didn't understand. She placed her fingers on his arm. His muscles tensed. As she had suspected, he wanted this marriage not one bit more than she did.
"My lord, I believe we must talk about our marriage."
His eyes narrowed. "You're right. We must. Once you see your sisters to their room, come down. We will walk in the courtyard. The day is mild so you should not suffer from the cold."
Once her sisters were in the room they would share for the night, Nicola returned to the courtyard. In silence, she and the Earl walked toward a cluster of trees at the side of the inn. Some of the barren branches brushed the upper stories of the building.
"My lord.…" Her voice broke. "My lord, I find we will not suit."
"Pray tell me why you have reached that conclusion?"
"You seem to have little liking for me. That hardly seems a promise for a companionable marriage."
"Then you will be content to remain as a dependent."
She shook her head. "I'll return to India."
"What about your grandmother? To lose you will bring her great sadness."
Nicola swallowed. "My sisters will remain here."
He shook his head. "As will you. Whether we marry or not, you will stay in England. India is no place for a young woman. By not marrying me, you will give your father's cousin a chance to claim guardianship of your sisters. His is the closest relationship."
She turned away. Her dreams began to fracture like a badly cut emerald.
He braced his hand on one of the trees. "I fear your decision comes too late. The announcement of our betrothal has been in the London papers. To cry off now would create a scandal."
She edged away. "Then we must live unhappily ever after. I find that a harsh sentence."
"There is also the matter of my honor. I've signed the settlement papers and received monies I would be hard pressed to return."
Nicola thought about the hidden gems and her talent. "Keep the money."
He grasped her arm. "We will marry and our marriage will be no different from those of most of the ton. A man marries for money and an heir."
"And a woman?"
He laughed. "For a title. For security and guidance."
His words made her want to weep. Indeed, he was demon-ridden. "Then I have no choice. Once my sisters are safe, I'll leave."
His eyes darkened. "I will have an heir. We'll live as man and wife until that day. Do you understand what that means?"
His gaze ignited something deep inside her. "Yes." Passages from the Kama Sutra rose in her thoughts though she didn't completely understand their meaning.
"Then there's no problem."
Frost tinged his voice, and for an instant, she heard a trace of sadness. Could he yearn for the same closeness she desired? Hardly likely. "And the monies you receive. Will you spend them on women and games of chance?"
Anger flared in his eyes. "I don't waste my time on drink and gaming. If there are other women, I'll be discrete."
"How kind of you, my lord." She turned away. "I suppose I will marry you."
How dare she speak as though she granted him a favor? He couldn't let her believe the choice was hers. In two strides, he reached her. He pulled her into the shadows beneath a massive oak. His arms encircled her. She stiffened and pushed against his shoulder. He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. If not with words, he would use his body to show her the favor was his.
Desire replaced anger. As his hands moved al
ong her back, he felt a different tension in her muscles. Triumph nearly made him laugh. He ran his tongue along her lower lip. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to touch her teeth. His control began to dissipate.
"Nica, Nica, help me."
Drew released Nicola. He turned and searched the shadows for the child. The cry came again.
"Margaret, where are you?" Nicola called.
"Stuck in the tree."
"Come down at once."
"My dress is caught."
"What am I to do with you?" Nicola pulled off her gloves and walked toward the tree.
Margaret screamed. Drew saw her dark shape hurtling toward them. He moved to intercept the child. The force of her landing sent him crashing to the ground with her in his arms. Air whooshed from his lungs.
Nicola pulled her sister from his arms. "Margaret, why must you do these things? You could have been sorely hurt."
Once Drew regained his breath, he rose. He limped to the pair. "She wants for discipline. I will see she receives just punishment for her foolish actions. Young lady, there will be no more of these incidents."
Nicola glared. "She is frightened. Two weeks before we boarded the ship to come to this alien land, our father was killed by bandits." She put her arm around her sister's shoulders. "I won't allow you to punish her."
"The choice is not yours."
"You don't understand. She chooses this way to express her fear and grief. Come, Margaret. We need to talk."
Drew watched them walk away. He understood more than she realized, but the child had to learn control. Impulsive actions led to disaster.
He leaned against a tree. Though he felt loath to admit the admiration he felt for his future wife, he smiled. She had been a tigress defending her young. From a hidden corner of his mind, a tendril of thought crept. He wanted her to display the same protectiveness toward him.
He shook his head. He didn't want her love, just her passion. The kiss they'd shared had given him a glimpse of what their marriage could be and had nearly eroded his control.
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