"I'm not sure that's a compliment."
"For a man who's a farmer at heart, consider it the best." He slid down and pulled her to lie beside him. His hands moved to the buttons on the front of her dress.
When his fingers began to open the buttons, Nicola inhaled. Surely he didn't mean to lie with her in the open. What if someone came along and saw them? He turned on his side. As he unfastened each button, he kissed the exposed skin. Small shivers played along her spine. The brush of his warm breath brought delight. His hands parted her dress and he caressed her breasts. The silk of her chemise slid across the aching tips. Without thought, she arched against him.
He suckled one breast and then the other. Nicola felt a need to move, to feel him deep inside her as she had once before. She felt the evidence of his arousal, hard and throbbing against her hip.
When he groaned and sat up, she felt as though she'd been abandoned. He slowly fastened the buttons of her dress and moved away.
"Don't you want me?" she asked.
He brushed strands of her hair from her face. "A foolish question. "This isn't the time or the place to allow matters to go beyond my control. I want you. I desire you, but I want our first time to be in a bed."
"But --"
He pressed his fingers to her lips. "I believe it is time for us to return to Denmere."
Nicola knelt on the blanket and began to braid her hair. What did he mean the first time? Had he no recollection of the night he'd made her his wife? She could never forget a moment of that time. How could he have forgotten?
* * * *
Drew looked down the dinner table to where Nicola sat. The meal had dragged until he wanted to shove his chair from the table and march the length of the room to grab his wife and carry her upstairs. His body hummed with the need that had been stoked during the day.
"Lucinda is most clever," Margaret said. "She answers to her name."
Elizabeth laughed. "'Tis only because you coax her with milk. Nica, you should have been in the village today. Viscount Devonley treated Grandmother and me to tea. He's so handsome. I nearly swooned when he smiled. Alas, he returns to London tomorrow."
"Without an arrangement with Cynthia Rasher," Aldora said. "A good thing. He's too young and callow for marriage." She signaled and one of the footmen moved her chair back. "I believe we will go to the music room."
Drew rose. He reached Nicola's side before the cluster of females surrounded and bore her to the India parlor. "Nicola and I have matters to discuss."
Aldora smiled. Drew felt sure he saw the same gleam of mischief in her eyes as he'd seen so often in Margaret's before she played one of her tricks.
"Then you must join us later," Aldora said. "I'd like to hear about the things you did today."
Nicola's face flushed. "We visited several properties, that is all."
Drew pulled on her hand. "Good night"
"Why would you want to go to bed?" Margaret asked. "'Tis too early."
Nicola looked at him. The puzzlement on her face brought an urge to kiss her worries away. He urged her down the hall and nearly dragged her upstairs.
"Drew, what have I done?"
He turned her and kissed her lightly. "It's not what you've done but what you will." Her blush spread to the edge of her bodice and he felt sure it reached her toes.
"Oh." A smile lit her face. For a moment, he thought he saw desire shining in her eyes. How could that be, he wondered. She had nothing more than the words she'd read in books to tell her what was about to occur.
He opened his chamber door. Bevel rose. "I won't need you tonight. Let Peggy know the countess won't need her."
"Very good, my lord." Bevel strode to the dressing room door. "I'll see you in the morning at the usual hour."
"I'll ring when you're needed," Drew said.
Once the valet departed, Drew put his arms around Nicola and held her close. He bent his head to kiss her. She stepped back. "Why did you send Peggy away? I'll never be able to unfasten the back of my gown."
His mouth covered hers. His tongue brushed her lips. He tasted a hint of cinnamon left from the apple tart they'd had for dessert. Her lips parted. His tongue delved into her mouth, plunging and withdrawing. He inched her closer until her body seemed melded with his.
Reluctantly, he released her lest he move too fast and frighten her. He pulled off his jacket and unfastened his cravat.
Nicola stared at her husband. The look in his eyes sent heat spiraling downward. As he unfastened the studs on his shirt, she wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't help remembering the splendor of his body. He dropped his shirt on the floor beside his jacket and his cravat. Her eyes focused on the dark hair covering his chest. Her hands tingled with a memory of the feel of his skin and muscles.
She took a deep breath. As she was about to step forward, he moved until he was behind her. He opened the first button on her gown. Then she felt the touch of his lips. One by one, he alternated buttons and kisses. He pushed her gown from her shoulders and down her arms.
His fingers found her breasts and lightly massaged them. The tips pushed against his hands. She wiggled and felt him throb against her. His lips nuzzled her nape. His hands moved from her breasts and for a moment, she feared he would leave her.
Slowly, he turned her to face him. Her gown tangled around her legs. He pulled her into a tight embrace. She looked into his eyes and wished she could read more than desire in their depths. The heat she saw seared a trail to her heart.
What would she do if he never learned to love her? Did she have the patience of Parvati to wait until her Siva noticed her? The kisses he trailed along her neck and the feel of his hands splaying against her buttocks while he moved against her made her trade fears for hope. She opened her mouth to confess her love, but his lips covered hers and his tongue touched hers. For a time their tongues dueled, thrust and parried. The fire in her yoni blazed.
He eased her chemise down and freed her breasts. His hands and then his tongue caressed the tips. "Nicola, I need you."
She couldn't speak. She put her arms around his neck and met his lips with hers. She inhaled his scent. Sensations cascaded through her body until she feared she would drown in them.
He released her, kicked off his half-boots and pulled his trousers down. Surely he was larger than the night he'd taken her in a fevered haste.
Nicola pulled her chemise over her head. Drew's gaze caressed her, moving from her full breasts to her narrow waist and focusing on the dark hair above her cleft. Her body fulfilled his every dream. He drew her into his arms. He kissed her lips and then her lowered lids. "I'll try not to hurt you, but I fear I must."
"What do...."
His lips cut off her words. He needed no conversation, just the movement of his body on hers as he claimed possession. With a fluid movement, he lifted her into the bed and knelt between her legs. Before he plunged into her depths, he brought his mouth to her breasts and suckled deeply. She moaned. She moved. He slid a finger along her cleft and felt the moisture gathered there. When he touched the tiny bud, she cried out. His finger moved rhythmically. So did her body.
Her moans became mewling cries that increased in intensity. He plunged inside her. For a moment, the absence of a barrier caught him by surprise, but then she moved and he was caught in the rhythm of the dance.
"Siva," she cried.
The violence of her climax triggered his. For a moment, he reveled in his possession of her body until he remembered her cry and her lack of a maidenhead. He tensed. Anger surged to the fore. She had played him for a fool. He rolled off her and got to his feet.
"Drew, what is wrong?"
"Surely you know." He reached for his clothes and began to dress.
"What have I done?"
He fastened his trousers. "Why, madam, you cried for your lover. How crude. I thought to trust you and believed your tale that you'd been with no other man. Tonight, I discovered you lied."
"No, you're wrong. Don't you remem
ber?"
He shoved his shirt into his trousers and pulled on his boots. "What is there to remember?"
"The night your fever broke. The night you made me your wife."
He reached for his jacket and strode to the door. "How good of you to remind me of a time that is beyond recall. It's a most clever tale." He opened the door and stepped into the hall.
Chapter 18
Nicola watched the chamber door close. Stunned by her husband's quiet accusation, she pressed her fist against her mouth to stop the scream that rose deep inside. How could he have forgotten the time their bodies had joined? Memories of that night were inscribed on every inch of her flesh and etched on her heart. Though he'd been fevered, she couldn't believe he had no memory of that night. If only he cared enough to seek them.
He hadn't wanted to marry her or any woman. His reasons for accepting her father's offer had been clearly stated. "For money and an heir." He had no desire for love. She had hoped, and for the past two weeks, had believed he'd changed his mind. Was there a way to bring what she knew was hidden into the light?
She sat up. Prabha had the sheets with the tell-tale stain. Her breath rushed out. Even if he saw the sheets, he would accuse her of deceit. Besides, there wouldn't be enough time for her to dress and run to Prabha's room in the servants' quarters before he rode off.
He would leave. Walking away seemed his solution to every problem and his method of avoiding confrontations. Had the pattern been set the day his mother had abandoned him? Did he fear he possessed the same violent streak as his father?
She pulled the sheet around her shoulders. His scent lingered on the cloth. A feeling of desperation stronger than when she'd left India brought an ache to her chest. Using the sheet to cover herself, she left her husband's bed and walked to her room. There, she knelt on the window seat and pressed her face against the glass.
A full moon lit the sky. She saw a mounted figure ride from the stables and head toward the lane. Tears leaked from her eyes and ran down her face.
She'd been unable to defeat his demons. Her tears flowed faster. She wiped her eyes on the sheet. He had consigned them both to the fate of his parents, to love and die unwanted and alone.
She turned from the window and crept to her bed. Her parents had slept in this bed. Here they'd found love. So had she. At least that had been her thought. She curled into a ball and recalled the days of her husband's illness. She heard his fevered cries, touched his heated skin, felt him moving deep inside her and savored the sensations he'd elicited. Memories of the promise she had found in his embrace blurred.
Lost, she thought. His refusal to believe her had fractured every dream.
She had to leave Denmere. Though once she'd planned for an escape, Drew's accident, his illness and their growing friendship had changed her decision. Plans to leave this bleak land must be made. While she wanted to return to Calcutta, she had to face the impossibility of that choice. Cousin Fergus would find her there and force her to work for him.
India was a vast country. Before she decided on a place, the gemstones had to be sold. Oxford or London? The jeweler in Oxford had been her grandmother's friend. If she went to him, she feared the tale would reach Denmere before she left. London then. A smile crossed her face as a plan emerged.
Sarad would go with her to London. He would help her find a safe place in India. Her shoulders slumped. Her friend would never leave his mother behind and Prabha wouldn't leave Margaret.
Tears filled Nicola's eyes. By returning to India, she would leave those she loved behind. Her sisters, her grandmother and....She gulped a breath. The love she had for her husband couldn't be denied. Why had he chosen not to return her love? Yogi Yakshi's prediction for her future had proved false. Had her teacher woven a dream to make leaving her beloved country an easier choice?
She pulled the covers over head to muffle her gut-wrenching sobs. Though her heart urged her to stay, she had no reason to remain.
* * * *
Voices woke Nicola. She eased the covers from her face. Peggy stood at the dressing room door. "He isn't here and I don't know where he's gone. My lady's sleeping."
"At nearly noon," Bevel asked. "She's not one to be abed so late."
Peggy tittered. "With the state of your master's bed, I fear she'll sleep until supper time."
"That doesn't tell me where the Earl is," Bevel said. "Why were you in his room? That's my domain."
"To return the sheet from his bed. Lord knows how it got here."
Nicola felt her cheeks flame. She wanted to duck beneath the covers and never emerge. "Is there a problem?"
"The Earl's gone," Bevel said.
"I believe he left for London," Nicola said. "He left in a rush."
"Without me?" The valet's voice squeaked. "What am I to do now?"
Nicola raised her head from the pillow. "Wait until he sends for you."
The valet vanished. Peggy approached the bed. "Would you like tea or should I send for a tray?"
Nicola swallowed. The thought of food or tea made her ill. "Nothing." She pulled the covers to her chin.
"What's wrong?"
"My stomach is unsettled. I believe I'll stay in bed a little longer."
"If you are ill, that's the very thing to do. Let me draw the draperies and warn your sisters away."
Nicola turned on her side. Was she ill or were the pails of tears responsible for the nausea that threatened to undo her?
* * * *
With a clatter, Nicola dropped the teacup on the tray and reached for the basin. Eight mornings, or was it nine? She collapsed on the pillows and willed her stomach to behave. "Peggy, take the tray."
"Again, my lady. Your grandmother is very concerned. She wants to send for Dr. Rodgers and the Earl."
Nicola's hard-fought battle for control over her stomach failed. She leaned over the basin. "I'll be all right. There's no need to worry. By noon, I'll be myself."
"Your sister's nurse says she can make a tea to calm your nerves."
Nicola shook her head. "Just let me rest awhile."
"My lady, it is possible you are breeding? My mum says she knew the minute she took because the sickness came right away."
Breeding! Nicola bit her lower lip. The possibility she was with child existed. 'Twas days past the time her monthly flow was due. Her hands clenched. Her stomach roiled. What would she do if she were carrying a baby? Drew would never admit the child was his.
She covered her eyes with her arm. What of her plans? She couldn't remain here to face her husband's scorn but where could she go? The voyage to India was too long and arduous for a breeding woman. As she waited for the churning to subside, she revised her plan. If not India, she would find a refuge in England and raise her child alone.
I must become a widow when I have hardly been a wife. What kind of husband? Perhaps a soldier killed in battle or a clerk employed by the East India Company. Before her grandmother sent word to Drew, she had to make her escape.
With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed. "Peggy, I think I'll wear the rose dress this morning."
"Are you sure you should be about? You look pale."
"I feel much better." She pressed her hands against the mattress and stood. After swallowing several times, she let Peggy slip the dress over her head and brush her hair.
Once the maid departed, Nicola put on a pair of shoes. She had to see Sarad and tell him of the change in her plans. Cautiously, she slipped into the hall. With luck, she would gain her husband's study without encountering her sisters or her grandmother. She had no wish to hear any rumor about her condition and be forced to deny what she feared was true.
At the foot of the stairs, she peered into the hall. Seeing no one, she hurried to the study and slipped inside.
Sarad sat at the desk. "Nic...my lady, I heard you have been ill."
She slumped into a chair beside the desk. "Sarad, how far have you progressed with our plans?"
He frowned. "There are several ships
due to depart for India in the next few weeks. Why do you want to return? Have you forgotten Crawford is there?"
She straightened. "Has he left England?"
"I have no way of knowing where he is, but why would he stay here now that the Earl knows what he tried to do? There is no need for you to flee this house."
Though she wished her friend's words were true, she believed Cousin Fergus lurked somewhere near waiting for another chance. "It doesn't matter about him. I must leave Denmere."
"Why?"
"My husband. You're my friend and I'm depending on you to help me." She related the new plans.
He groaned. "I think you do the wrong act."
"Then I'll go on my own."
"How can I betray the trust the Earl has given me?"
Nicola rose. "If you won't help, you betray me. Please, I'll give you a share of the money from the sale of the gemstones. Come to London and deal with the land agent for me and become the husband of the Maharani of Calcutta until the gems are sold."
He nodded. "This is a bad thing, but I will not let you go alone."
She wiped her eyes. "Thank you. Now, here is what we must do..."
* * * *
A fortnight after his departure from Denmere, Drew rode into London. His visit to the small Yorkshire property had given him a chance to regain his strength. He rode into the stable yard behind the townhouse. A groom emerged. "Who be ye?"
"The Earl," Drew said.
The man held the horse while Drew dismounted. "Be needing the horse tonight?"
"Not until morning." Drew walked through the walled garden to the front of the house. He pounded on the door.
A footman answered. "The family is not in residence, sir."
"I'm the Earl."
The man's eyebrow lifted. "Are you sure you have the right house?"
"You were hired by Mr. Grey, but I can fire you."
"Sorry, my lord. We received no notice to expect you. Should I hang the knocker?"
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