by Monica Burns
Nicholas barely felt Victoria take his hand and squeeze it. The memory of those last horrible moments continued to play out vividly in his head. The boy’s shrill cry and his own fear as he laid trapped beneath the beam. Victoria pressed her mouth against his shoulder as if understanding he couldn’t continue.
“Roberts rescued you, didn’t he?” she whispered, and he heard the horror in her voice.
“Yes, he and another worker pulled me out of the fire.”
“And that’s where he got those terrible scars on his face.” Victoria’s observation made him shift his concentration to his valet.
“I owe him my life, but if I’d been able to save the boy…” He didn’t finish his sentence knowing that the word if was of no value to the child he’d failed to save.
“Don’t,” she said fiercely. “You did what few people are capable of doing. I don’t think I would have had the courage to enter a burning building like that.”
Nicholas studied her lovely features, and the expression of reassurance on her face warmed him. He’d never had a more beautiful or ardent defender. A strange emotion snagged at him. When he tried to define it his brain rejected the idea. The moment he stroked her brow with his fingertips, she stretched her body upward to kiss him. The sweet, tender caress soothed a raw, open wound that had never healed. The depth of emotion sweeping over him alarmed him. What would he do if he ever lost her? He immediately destroyed the thought. He wasn’t going to let that happen. His hand slid across a soft shoulder then down to a bare arm. She lifted her head and stared down at him with an expression he was afraid to identify.
“I understand your guilt and sorrow. The night before my father died we had a terrible argument. I left the house still angry. I never got the chance to say I was sorry.” Grief darkened her beautiful eyes. The pain he saw shimmer in her gaze made him want to reassure her as she had him. “There are some things we’re just not able to do. When I look at your leg I know you did the very best you could. You can’t continue to blame yourself for things that are out of your control.”
“That’s easier said than done, sweet witch.”
“I’m not telling you the guilt will go away. It probably never will, but if you continue to let it possess you, it will eat you alive.”
Nicholas stared into her eyes as he absorbed her words. Was that what he’d been doing all these years? Emotion darkened her blue eyes as she kissed him.
“Make love to me, Nicholas. I need…I need you right now just as much as you need me.
Her voice broke slightly, and he knew she’d been about to say something different. Before he could question her, she pushed him back into the pillows and her lips generated a passionate heat in his body that had become as familiar as the need she always created inside him. He slipped his tongue into her mouth to savor the honeyed taste of her.
There was a sense of urgency to her kiss that blotted out his every thought, except the desire building inside him. An intense, visceral thirst for her crashed through him. His thumb caressed one nipple, and she moaned softly. The sudden shudder rippling through her made him roll her over onto her back. The desire glowing in her blue eyes made his cock harden until it ached for her fiery core to surround it.
Suddenly, he realized how much he needed her—needed to make love to her to soothe his soul. He stretched out his arm and retrieved a French letter from the top of the nightstand. A moment later he sank into her white-hot heat with rapid strokes that intensified as he released some of the anguish he’d felt for so many years in her arms.
The beginnings of her orgasm tightened around him in quick, sharp bursts of pleasure. The spasms heightened the pleasure building inside him. As her spasms gripped him more tightly, he felt a familiar surge in his cock and with a dark roar he throbbed inside her.
Slowly, he lowered his weight on her, unwilling to withdraw from her just yet. She’d said she needed him, but he was certain he needed her more. After a long moment, he rolled to one side and covered his eyes with his arm. The contentment he found in the silence between them made him happy. It was a happiness he’d never expected to find in his marriage. A soft rumbling from Victoria’s stomach made him grin.
“Hungry?” he asked as embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and he laughed. “Get dressed, and I’ll have supper brought up to us.”
“Isn’t getting dressed defeating the purpose?” she said as she slowly rolled onto her side and trailed her fingers across his chest. “I mean you’re just going to take off whatever I put on, right?”
Her fingers stirred a fire inside him as she dragged them down toward his stomach. With a life of its own, his cock stirred as she brushed her fingertips over his growing erection. Nicholas growled with need at her touch.
“You’re deliberately trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?” she murmured in a husky voice.
“Almost, but I’m hungry too.” He chuckled and caught her hand and carried it up to his mouth. He turned her hand over to press a kiss into her wrist. Deliberately, he swirled his tongue across her skin and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure parting her lips. He released her hand then rolled her onto to her side to swat her bottom before he slid off the bed. At her quiet yelp of surprise, he laughed.
“Actually I think I prefer you naked, but I don’t intend to give Roberts a heart attack when he walks in to find a nude countess in my bedroom.” He winked at her. “However, once supper has been served, the idea of you wearing nothing else tonight is quite appealing.”
Her laughter followed him as he disappeared into the corridor that connected their rooms. A smile still on his face, he tossed his clothes onto the nearest chair as he entered his bedroom. With a tug on the bell cord, Nicholas grabbed his robe from the wardrobe and threw it on over his shoulders. He cinched the belt and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window.
All he could see was a yawning black hole beyond his image. As he stared into the impenetrable darkness, he remembered the way his heart had sunk when his head groom had sent word Victoria had not returned from her ride. He’d been furious that Yancey had taken so long to notify him that Victoria had gone riding. But he knew all too well how easily Victoria could charm people into allowing her to do as she pleased. God knew he was bewitched by her just as much as the rest of the household.
When he’d learned Victoria had taken Zeus out, his stomach had lurched at the thought that the stallion had thrown her, and she was laying in the dark somewhere gravely injured. It had been a fleeting notion because her skill at riding Mischief had demonstrated her ability to ride Zeus, who was a far less fractious animal. That had left him with only one other fear. Someone had intercepted her.
Fear dried his mouth as he remembered the look on Victoria’s face as he’d pulled her off of Zeus’ back tonight. He’d been furious that she’d not agreed to an escort, and that she’d been so foolish to ride so late in the day. But when he’d stared down at the look of terror on her face, he’d realized whoever had written the notes was an even greater threat to her than he’d realized. He could have lost her tonight. Nicholas dragged in a sharp, harsh breath at the thought. How was it that in such a short time span, Victoria had managed to embed herself so firmly in his life?
It scared the hell out of him. Nicholas clenched his jaw, as he realized he’d passed the point of no return where Victoria was concerned. There would be no retreat if something caused her personality to revert back to the woman he’d married. The price he’d pay would be quite dear if the worst happened.
Chapter 25
December 1897
“If you would, my lady, could we adjust the drape so that I can see a bit more of your calf,” Lockwood said as he rose to his feet. Nicholas immediately set the paperwork he’d been reading aside.
“Allow me, Lockwood,” he said in voice that silently said he’d not allow the artist anywhere near Victoria in her current state of undress.
Nicholas rose from his seat behind the artist, and the o
ther man immediately sank back down onto the chair with a nod. There was a mischievous look on Victoria’s face as Nicholas approached the lounge she was reclined on in her bedroom. Bending slightly over her leg he adjusted the sheet to an angle he thought would satisfy the artist. He stepped back to allow Lockwood to approve of the change.
“Yes, my lord, that’s perfect. Also if you would please, lower the sheet beneath lady Guildford’s hand a small bit. It should display a bit more…” The artist’s voice trailed off and Victoria laughed.
“I think the word you’re looking for is cleavage.”
Before Victoria could move Nicholas stepped in front of her to block the artist’s view. Amusement made her blue eyes sparkle as she smiled up at him. Her hand moved slightly until one beautiful breast was exposed to him. The air left his lungs then returned in a rush.
“You, sweet witch, are playing with fire,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Perhaps I should help you put it out.” The suggestive note in her softly spoken response made him scowl down at her.
Her smile became a quiet laugh as he tugged the sheet back into place. But not before he deliberately tweaked her nipple. She gasped at his small punishment before a languorous expression swept over her face. Tension locked his muscles into place as he fought the urge to order Lockwood out of the room and make his wife pay for her teasing manner. Instead, he bent his head to nibble at her ear.
“Tonight, I’m going to make you wish you’d not teased me so heartlessly, because I intend to fuck you until you plead for mercy, and then I’ll simply fuck you some more.”
The sharp breath Victoria drew in made him smile, but when her eyes met his, the desire flaring in those blue depths made him suppress a groan. He quickly stepped aside to obtain the artist’s approval on the new position of the sheet. The other man nodded his approval, but it didn’t change Nicholas’ irritable mood. He was ready for this portrait to be finished.
“Thank you, my lord,” Lockwood murmured with a touch of apprehension. “That will do nicely.”
The artist quickly averted his gaze and returned to his work. In several steps, Nicholas was at his chair and picked up his papers. He tried to continue his review of them, but his gaze kept sweeping back to Victoria. Desire still clung to her features as she met his gaze. To his right, Lockwood was dabbing at the canvas with rapid strokes. Nicholas leaned slightly to one side to see the man’s work, and something deep inside him tried to push its way to the surface. He quickly crushed it. Jealously was an unfamiliar sensation and he wasn’t ready to acknowledge the underlying cause.
At least the second portrait was nearly complete. It had been almost two months since Victoria’s return, and he’d never been happier. That is with the exception of these hellish sittings as Lockwood worked on this damn portrait. He’d been a fool to commission this painting, but he’d not expected his feelings to change so radically where Victoria was concerned. Nicholas looked at the canvas on the easel again. Begrudgingly, he had to admit the artist had captured the elusive quality Victoria possessed in this painting as well as her formal portrait. This portrait however, had also captured the beautiful, naked sensuality of his wife. It was an intimate painting that made him resentful of the artist. That the man had translated the raw essence of Victoria to the canvas and made him realize the artist might be in love with her. The knowledge made him feel possessive of his wife in a way he’d never dreamed possible.
“When do you expect to have this portrait done,” he snapped as his thoughts made him irritable. Lockwood jumped slightly then glanced over his shoulder.
“I should be done in the next day or two, my lord,” Lockwood said quietly. “However it will take this portrait well into the new year before it’s ready for framing. Her ladyship’s formal portrait can be framed sometime by the end of December.”
“Excellent. That means the countess’ sittings won’t interfere with our return to London.”
“London,” Victoria exclaimed her eyes widening before she narrowed her gaze at Nicholas.
“Lady Guildford, please, I need you to remain still.”
“I’m done for the day, John. Would you mind giving his Lordship and me a few moments of privacy?”
Nicholas grimaced at the mutinous expression on Victoria’s face. He was in for a fight with her regarding their return to town. The moment the artist left the room, she was on her feet with the sheet wrapped around her tightly. It was a clear sign she wasn’t about to let him seduce her into agreeing to his plan.
“I told you a few weeks ago I wasn’t going to London.”
“As my wife you will accompany me, Victoria.” He kept his voice low and calm. Her rejection of the idea didn’t surprise him. She had made her intentions clear, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone for any extensive length of time.
“Don’t you dare patronize me, Lord Guildford.” The use of his title emphasized she was angrier than he expected. He would have to tread carefully in order to make her comply with his wishes.
“I’m not patronizing you, Victoria. But it’s—”
“The hell you aren’t,” she snapped. “You made an arbitrary decision where I’m concerned. I’m not chattel for you to do with as you please.”
“Christ almighty,” he growled. “I am not treating you as chattel.”
“I told you before. I am not going to London,” she bit out in a fierce voice.
“Damn it, Victoria. I’m not about to—”
A knock on the door interrupted him, and before he could order the person to go away, Victoria called out for them to enter. It was a clear effort on her part to end the conversation. Nicholas glared at her for not judiciously asking who had knocked. It could’ve been Roberts for all she knew, and he had no desire for any man to see his wife as she was now. When Molly walked through the door, relief washed over him. It was quickly replaced by the a wave of frustration.
“I beg your pardon, my lady. But Mr. Elrod insisted on seeing Lord Guildford right away.”
The maid’s words made Nicholas stiffen. He’d met with Elrod earlier this morning. The man’s return could mean only one thing, either he had news from Green, or another note had arrived.
“Thank you, Molly. I’ll be there shortly.” It was a quiet dismissal, and the maid left the room before Victoria could stop her. A sigh escaped his lips as he met Victoria’s angry gaze.
“I do not consider you my property, Victoria. But as my wife it’s expected for you to accompany me to town.” His statement echoed quietly between them. Victoria narrowed her gaze at him once more, her expression unreadable.
“I need to dress, and I believe someone is waiting for you,” she said in a stilted tone as a mutinous expression crossed her face again. Annoyed, he took a step toward her, but she retreated from him. He didn’t like the way it made him feel to see her back away from him.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he growled. “Right now I need to see my estate manager.” Victoria appeared ready to make a retort but she clamped her beautiful lips shut and glared at him instead. With a quiet oath he slammed her bedroom door shut on his way out. God help him, how was he supposed to keep her safe if she refused to do what he said? Perhaps that was the key. He was telling her what she had to do as opposed to asking her. Victoria was an independent woman. She believed she was the one in control of her destiny.
The larger problem was that he’d not been honest with her. His efforts to protect Victoria had included not telling her about the danger she was in. He had little doubt she’d be incensed if she discovered he’d not shared his concerns with her. Still, he didn’t regret his decision. The fear on her face the night he and his men had found her almost two miles from the house was a look he’d never forget.
Victoria had been terrified that night, although he knew she wasn’t a woman who frightened easily. But that one incident could not be the reason she changed her mind about visiting London. She’d refused to do so before being chased through the dark. The worst thing
was that they’d not resolved their differences before he’d left her room.
He didn’t like seeing her unhappy, and she was most definitely unhappy with him at the moment. Actually it was a fact that she was unhappy with him that bothered him the most. With a scowl, he descended the main stairs and made his way to his office. The moment he entered, Elrod rose to his feet.
“What news do you have, Elrod?”
“Two things, my Lord. Mr. Green has had a bit of luck with Reardon. Apparently, the man is looking for an item of value. Green wasn’t able to learn what the item is but he says it’s clearly of great importance.” As Elrod finished his report, Nicholas drew in a deep breath and exhaled. At last, something he could work with.
“That’s extremely good news. Tell Green to continue watching the man. Reardon’s extremely cautious, but everyone makes mistakes. We need to know what he’s up to.”
“Yes, my lord. Unfortunately, that’s not all.” The man’s features darkened with worry, and Nicholas intuitively knew what the answer would be.
“Another note.”
The silent confirmation on his estate manager’s face made Nicholas’ gut twist violently. Elrod reached into his coat pocket to retrieve an envelope that he handed to Nicholas. A tic tugged at his cheek in protest as to the way his facial muscles had tightened the moment he clenched his jaw.
My dear Guildford,
I understand Scotland Yard is extremely curious as to why you’ve not returned to London with your lovely wife. I imagine their curiosity is as great as mine, but then we both know how skilled you are at deception. Especially when one considers your questionable claim to the Guildford title? I wonder what Scotland Yard would think of the possibility that your brother is the rightful heir?
My guess is that you have ordered your wife not to ride alone again. Please convey my admiration for the Countess’ horsemanship. Her skills are exemplary given her lack of them before her convenient return. I regret being unable to reach her in time that night to express my admiration. Until we meet in London.