The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection

by Dorothy McFalls

  When she hesitated, he added, “I am not at all like Lord Mercer. Do you not agree?”

  She frowned as she considered the question. “I feel like I am perhaps a different woman with you.”

  * * * *

  It was one thing to sneak willingly into Nigel’s bedroom in the dead of night. But to be lured to his bed like a rabbit to a fox’s den made her knees wobble. A man had a right to demand his wife’s submission in the bedroom.

  Even though she loved Nigel, how could she ever feel safe? How could she know that he wouldn’t ever demand what she wasn’t prepared to give?

  “I’m not Lord Mercer. Perhaps our marriage could be different from your first one? Perhaps it could be better?” he asked, speaking the words her heart longed to believe.

  And it was true what she had said. He did make her feel like a different woman. He caressed her cheek and kissed her with such fierce desire, she felt as at ease with herself as the nude woman Dionysus had portrayed her to be.

  Elsbeth turned so Nigel could unfasten the line of buttons down the back of her gown. This was what marriage could and should be like, safe and comfortable. She slipped her gown from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

  “I will never demand you do anything that you don’t want, dove.”

  “I want this,” she whispered between kisses. “I want you.”

  This was the moment her heart had been waiting for all her life. She sought his kisses, his caresses, following his lead and boldly touching him in ways she knew excited a man. Soon, they were both in his bed. Soon they were both naked.

  Nigel’s breathing quickened. His arousal throbbed in her hand. She willingly gave him this pleasure. It pleased her to touch him, to know she was the cause of the glazed look in his eyes and the reason his head fell back on his pillows. The realization fed her own budding hunger.

  She lowered her mouth to him. Nigel sucked in his breath when her lips touched him there. He groaned her name and she made love to him with her mouth. With a frustrated cry, he grabbed her shoulders. “Tonight is for you, my sweet dove,” he whispered into her mouth. “Only for you.”

  His gaze, deep and hot, raked her body over and over. “You are beautiful, Elsbeth. You are a dream come to life, a miracle of art. Everything I have ever desired.” He touched her with his hands, running fingertips gently over her arms, ribcage, and hips. When he began showering her with kisses, she was lost…

  * * * *

  They’d made love with a roomful of lit candles. She’d shouted his name. And after a short rest, they’d made love again.

  The love of his life had drifted off to sleep after finding satisfaction for a second time.

  Nigel traced the line of stitches on her side. The bullet wound was still angry and raw. He would send for the doctor to take yet another look at it in the morning. And he would be more careful when he took her again. But for now, he planned to let her sleep.

  She shifted in the bed and moaned. Nigel, still aroused and uncomfortable, fought the urge to give into his desires a third time. He had meant it when he had said that this night was for her and her alone. He would let her sleep. She needed her rest.

  She’d given him a wondrous gift tonight. She’d let him love her not as a man might love a dream, but as a husband might love a wife. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace with himself.

  * * * *

  Throughout the hectic day that followed, thoughts of that magical night stayed with Elsbeth. Nigel’s gentle words, his coaxing her to trust him with her heart, made her smile at the oddest moments. She found herself smiling at the cloth in her hand early that morning while supervising a team of footmen as they polished the silver in the dinning room. It was a task she had trouble concentrating on, not just because of last night but also because tonight’s ball promised to flush out the man trying to kill both Nigel and his uncle.

  It was Charlie, she was certain. But Nigel had to learn for himself the difficult truth.

  “My ladyship!” Gainsford rushed into the room. She hadn’t seen the butler at all that morning. Each had been busily preparing for the ball. And there was still much to be done. But he seemed to have forgotten that, as well as his place. He tossed his arms around her and gave her a most improper hug.

  “Gainsford!”

  The butler quickly regained his composure. He stepped a proper distance away and blushed as he waved away the curious stares of the young footmen. “Forgive me, my lady.” He dipped a bow. “Just-just, I am ever so happy you…that you’ve come to this household, that you—” Gainsford cleared his throat and blushed.

  Did the whole household know that she’d spent the entire night in her husband’s bed? She lifted her chin and did her best to hold onto her composure. “Yes, Gainsford?”

  “Lord Edgeware was happy when I spoke to him, my lady.” He said this as if Nigel had never experienced a happy morning in his life, which was an idiotic notion.

  “I am sure the Marquess is anticipating the excitement of this evening’s festivities. And if we don’t wish for him to be disappointed, I suggest we returned to our preparations.”

  The footmen all hastily returned their attentions to the silver. But Gainsford’s lopsided grin was not to be so easily deterred. “You don’t understand, my lady.” Gainsford spoke softly now. “I bless the day his lordship finally found you. And I thank you.”

  Slightly shaken, she gave Gainsford a curt nod. She had so many more things to do and no time to be embarrassed by the servants. Evening would arrive soon enough and though the house was nearly ready, she would still have to prepare herself for the ball, a ball that would send a signal to all of London that she accepted her marriage to Nigel. Surprisingly, she had accepted her marriage to Nigel. And for the first time in a long time, she felt content.

  By the time evening arrived, most of the tasks on Elsbeth’s list had been ticked off. Many of the servants had disappeared belowstairs, and the house was quiet. Elsbeth fussed with a flower arrangement in the drawing room and caught herself smiling again. Despite fighting him every step of the way, she was now hopelessly in love with her husband. Did he know that she loved him? Had she told him yet? She couldn’t remember.

  “Elly, whatever are you doing fussing with those flowers? You should be upstairs dressing.” Olivia flounced into the drawing room like a happy wren. Her stunning pale pink evening gown was cut daringly low in the bodice so that the flimsy material just barely kept her breasts contained.

  Lauretta and Aunt Violet followed in Olivia’s wake at a much more sedate pace. Elsbeth greeted her cousins and aunt warmly, giving each a kiss on the cheek.

  Aunt Violet patted Elsbeth’s cheek firmly. “At least one of you girls knows how to marry a man. You may not do it well, but at least you have accomplished the final deed…oh my, twice.”

  Lauretta appeared ready to burst into tears.

  Olivia caught Elsbeth’s arm and gave it a tug. “Let us retire upstairs and tuck you into your gown before the guests arrive.”

  Aunt Violet stamped her cane on the hardwood floor since the carpet had been rolled back to allow for dancing. “I have no desire to watch you girls twitter about. Show me to a comfortable parlor. And warm, mind you. I cannot abide with the drafts in this place.”

  Her voice must have carried to the far corners of the house, for Gainsford appeared suddenly in the room. “This way, my lady,” he said very slowly, very loudly. He took Aunt Violet’s arm. “I have a pot of tea heating up.”

  “Nice boy,” she said, and gave Gainsford’s arm an indulgent pat as she allowed him to lead her away.

  Elsbeth led the way upstairs with her cousins following closely behind. Portia, her new lady’s maid, was waiting in Elsbeth’s chamber to assist her in preparing for the ball. Though Portia styled her long blond tresses into a mass of ringlets with a great deal of skill, Elsbeth missed Molly dearly. Molly had been more than a lady’s maid. She’d been a friend.

  Elsbeth decided right then an
d there that she’d speak to Nigel on Molly’s behalf. She’d held her tongue too long about the things that were important to her. But no more. She’d make certain Nigel understood how important Molly was to her life.

  Her newfound confidence didn’t last long, though. As she listened to Olivia’s musings on the coming evening, her heart began to pound.

  Tonight they would catch the killer. Tomorrow she would wake up, and perhaps, start a normal day with a husband who cherished her. She needed to tell him how happy he’d made her. Perhaps she would make a grand announcement in front of everyone at the ball. Yes, then no one would doubt that their marriage was real.

  “Lauretta, do sit up straight,” Olivia scolded her younger sister, giving her a sharp poke in the back. “You’ve been slumping all day.”

  “I have a perfectly good reason to slump, as you well know. Papa has said I am not even permitted to dance with him tonight.”

  “Who?” Elsbeth asked absently as she took a final look at herself in the mirror. The sapphire silk gown had hundreds of tiny crystals sewn into the bodice. They sparkled in the room’s lamplight as she turned.

  “Lord Ames,” Olivia answered for her sister. “He is a money grabber, Papa says.”

  “Indeed?” Elsbeth asked.

  “He loves me,” Lauretta wailed.

  “He asked Papa for permission to marry Lauretta last evening,” Olivia explained.

  “And was summarily dismissed, I suppose?”

  “Papa is ever so unfair! He refused to listen. Sir Donald is as poor as Lord Ames and he wasn’t considered a money grabber.”

  “Your Sir Donald doesn’t also have a reputation for being a rake,” Olivia said with a laugh. “And he never steered you unescorted to one of the more deserted paths in Hyde Park in full view of half the ton’s tabbies.”

  “That’s unfair.” Lauretta jumped to her feet and pressed her fists to her hips. “Just yesterday I saw Sir Donald arguing with a woman of questionable morals. The same woman then threw herself at Lord Ames, who politely refused her advances. What do you think of that, dear sister?”

  A sharp knock at the door brought the argument to an abrupt end. At Elsbeth’s nod of approval, Portia opened the door. Gainsford handed the maid a small package. “His lordship requests Lady Edgeware wear this tonight,” he said formally. “’Tis a gift.”

  Nigel must have returned for the evening. Elsbeth fought a giddy urge to rush downstairs and greet him. But there was still much to be done, and she wanted to be ready and downstairs when the first guests arrived.

  Portia bobbed a curtsy as she handed over the box. “’Tis a gift, m’lady.”

  “Ooo,” Olivia crooned while peering over Elsbeth’s shoulder. “I wager he has given you some fantastic jewel.”

  Elsbeth held her breath as she untied the golden ribbon. The velvet cloth covering the box fell away.

  “Diamonds,” Lauretta said wistfully. “It has to be diamonds. How utterly romantic.”

  Elsbeth lifted the lid. The excited breaths of Olivia and Lauretta brushed her neck. Like her cousins, she half expected to see the sparkle of diamonds or glimmer of jewels when she peered into the box.

  No such fantastic sight greeted her.

  “A plain locket?” Olivia cried. “It looks exactly like that old one you finally stopped wearing.”

  “How romantic,” Lauretta said. “He misses your battered old locket, so he gave you another one.”

  Elsbeth felt faintly ill. She’d abandoned the locket and this one did look hauntingly similar. Had Nigel found it? Had he discovered what she’d hidden inside it?

  Clutching the new locket in her hand, she searched the bottom of her jewelry box for the original one. It was there, precisely where she had directed Gainsford to leave it.

  “Well? Open it.” Olivia bounced, waiting.

  A lever released the catch and the front of the locket sprang open. Inside, two tiny portraits painted on porcelain stared lovingly at each other. One was an uncanny likeness of her, the other of Nigel.

  “Lovely,” Lauretta whispered.

  Elsbeth held the portraits up to the light. The brushstrokes were dainty and so carefully made. They weren’t created by Dionysus’s hand. Still, she shivered as she looked at it.

  “The guests will be arriving soon,” she said, and dropped the locket’s chain on over her head. “And do not fret so, Lauretta, I will ask Nigel to speak with your father on Lord Ames’s behalf.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Lauretta cried and hugged her. “I know Severin will be the perfect husband for me! He wants me to be his partner…in business!”

  Partner? Before meeting Nigel, she would have never thought such a thing could be possible. But in the past few days she’d learned quite a bit about how having a man around could be pleasant, welcome. A man and woman could share common goals, and yes, even become partners.

  And right now she had a great desire to go greet her husband and thank him for the unusual, but thoughtful, gift.

  As soon as she’d finished dressing, she hurried down the stairs in search of him. She found Nigel in the front entranceway, pacing. Or, more to the point, wringing his hands and pacing. The fashionable dove gray suit he wore fit like a stylish glove. That magical warm glow, she’d been holding onto all day bloomed into a deep, stinging blush as she remembered the pleasures he’d brought her long into the previous night.

  He must have heard the rustle of skirts, for he stopped mid-step and turned to gaze up the staircase. His onyx eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped slightly open.

  How she got the rest of the way down the stairs, she could not say. Perhaps she floated. Regardless, she stood mesmerized in front of her husband, staring deeply into his expressive gaze.

  “Is everything ready?” she managed to ask.

  “Yes.” He took her hand and kissed it. “You look lovely,” he said. There was a stern edge in his voice. If he indeed thought she looked lovely, his deepening frown certainly didn’t support the notion. “I don’t want you here tonight. I should have sent you away.”

  “My absence would raise far too many questions. This is our wedding ball.”

  Her cousins and Lord Purbeck were all standing around pretending not to be listening to what would no doubt be considered a most peculiar conversation.

  “Damn fool boy,” Elsbeth very clearly heard Lord Purbeck mutter.

  Nigel ignored his uncle, if he had heard him at all. “If anything starts to happen,” he said taking Elsbeth’s hands in his, “I want you to get yourself to safety. You understand me?”

  “What’s going on, Elly?” Olivia asked.

  “Someone is planning to kill Lord Edgeware tonight,” Lauretta said. “Lord Ames told me all about it.”

  “And my life is in danger too, blasted bother,” Lord Purbeck added.

  “Oh, that.” Olivia nodded.

  “Does everyone in London know my business?” Nigel asked looking quite adorably harassed.

  “Of course they do.” Aunt Violet thumped her cane on the floor as she emerged from the front parlor. “It is the ton’s profession to know.”

  And that was where the discussion ended, since the guests had begun to arrive. Nigel kept a tight hold on Elsbeth’s hand as he politely greeted each and every guest while a six-piece orchestra played softly upstairs in the drawing room.

  As much as she wished it, Elsbeth wasn’t able to stay by Nigel’s side for long. It was considered quite unfashionable for a husband and wife to linger in each other’s company at such an event despite their newlywed status. And it seemed that the guests at the party were determined to keep them apart.

  “Promise me one waltz,” Nigel said, and quickly kissed her cheek before being led away into a circle of men.

  She watched him from a distance. The last time their eyes met from across the ballroom, he graced her with a smile. Such a simple gesture warmed her like a comforting cup of hot tea…or like a Dionysus painting of wildflowers.

  Her heart twisted. N
o matter how she tried to let her love for Dionysus fade, she always seemed to fail. She feared the rogue artist would plague her heart until the day it stopped beating.

  Who was he? And why did she still harbor soft feelings for him?

  She had a mind to march over to her husband and tell him that she was ready to hear the truth about Dionysus when Charlie caught her arm. A quadrille had begun to play, but instead of leading her to the dance floor, he steered her toward a quiet corner of the balcony. There, she stared at the demon lazily. No, she thought to herself, Charlie couldn’t be Dionysus. He simply couldn’t.

  “I don’t know how you managed it, Elly,” he whispered bitterly, “but it seems you have quite completely won my cousin’s affection. No matter how much I try to show him your true character, he still pictures you with a honeyed gaze.”

  She jerked her head away when Charlie tried to caress her cheek.

  “Still cold, Elly?” Charlie chuckled lightly. “Do you even let Nige into your bed?”

  “I don’t wish to cause a scene, so I will pretend instead I didn’t hear you.” In place of the fear she would have expected to feel, she experienced an empowering sense of calm as she realized she could trust her husband. No matter what mischief Charlie tried to cause, she knew Nigel was watching out for her and would protect her. He would trust her word above Charlie’s. “Please excuse me,” she said frostily, and turned to return to the ballroom.

  “Wait, please. We do both care about Nige. If you don’t wish to see him harmed, you will listen to me. I beg you.”

  The note of desperation in his voice stopped her where she stood. A shallow bob of her head was her only indication that she was willing to hear what he had to say.

  “George Waver has Nige in his pocket. I know you don’t believe me, but I have proof that he is trying to kill Nige. If you care for my cousin, even just a little, you will use the power you have over Nige to convince him to stay away from George.”

  “Mr. Waver has explained himself, his actions. He would have been killed that day on the beach along with Nigel. He is not a murderer…you are.”