For the Love of Lynette

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For the Love of Lynette Page 4

by Jillian Eaton


  “You do know you shall have to marry someday,” John said.

  “And someday I shall but it will not be today, I can assure you of that.”

  “I hope she is an absolute terror.”

  Nathaniel’s mouth curved in a humorless smile. “If and when I do marry, it will be to a woman so afraid of her own shadow she would never dream of telling me what to do, when to come home, or whom I may see.”

  “And if you fall in love with someone like my Mary?” John asked, raising his voice to be heard above the creak of leather and the clip-clop of hooves striking cobblestone as his carriage rolled up and drew to a neat halt directly in front of them.

  “Love,” Nathaniel scoffed. “Love is for fools and fairytales.”

  “You only say that because you’ve never experienced love firsthand,” John said over his shoulder as he stepped up into his carriage and nodded for the footman to close the door before any rain could get in and ruin the leather interior.

  “I say it because it is true,” Nathaniel called out as John pulled away with one quick wave of his arm out the window. Left standing alone, he rocked onto his toes and peered down the street, only to rock back on his heels with a frown when he saw no sign of his own vehicle. It was possible that his driver had returned home, which was a bit problematic given that his townhouse was a good ten blocks from the club and the rain showed no signs of waning.

  “Bollocks,” he said aloud, cupping the back of his neck. After a night spent drinking and gambling and inhaling cigar smoke, the last thing he wanted to do was go traipsing across town, but aside from hiring a hackney he saw no way around it. Fishing a hand into the pocket of his trousers he procured exactly one shilling and two pennies, the sum of which would not be nearly enough to get him where he needed to go. “Bollocks,” he repeated before he hunched his shoulders against the driving rain and set off down the street, inwardly cursing the bad luck that had been hovering over his head like a dark cloud since Monday when he’d begun the day by stubbing his toe climbing out of bed and ended it with his mistress coolly informing him she was leaving him for a duke.

  It was now Thursday and his bad luck showed no signs of abating. If anything, it was getting worse. Nathaniel was not a superstitious man by nature, but if he were he would be tempted to believe someone had put a bloody hex on him. What he’d done to deserve such a hex he couldn’t say. All things considered (with the exception of one night spent at a private brothel where he’d enjoyed the attentions of a curvaceous brunette with a very talented mouth) he’d been on his best behavior as of late.

  He’d seduced no innocents, committed no crimes, told no lies, and yet here he was, traipsing through the mud and the muck and God only knew what else because his driver had run off and, despite his veritable fortune, he didn’t have enough money on his person to afford a hackney.

  It would have almost been amusing if it weren’t so damned irritating.

  Unfortunately for Nathaniel, his luck was only about to get worse.

  “Stay to the side,” Lynette chided her sisters as they walked briskly down the street. “No one is ever paying as much attention as they ought to be.” Unfortunately her words were soon proven correct as a milk wagon pulled by two heavy workhorses careened past and sent a wave of water splashing up and over the curb. Having ignored her sister’s warning, Temperance received the brunt of the foul smelling puddle water.

  “Oh,” she gasped as she grabbed her skirts and stumbled back. “Oh, it stinks.”

  “I would say I told you so,” Lynette said mildly as she adjusted her grip on her parasol so the rain slid off the back instead of the front, “but that would be considered highly impolite.”

  “I’ll say it then,” Delilah put in cheerfully. “Told you - get away from me!” she shrieked as Temperance lunged forward with her hands extended as though she were some sort of wild animal. For some it would have been a shocking display, but Lynette did not so much as bat an eyelash as she stepped between her sisters and held out both arms.

  “That is enough,” she hissed through her teeth. “Both of you. People are staring!”

  And so they were. Nearly half a dozen men and women, their countenances covered with shawls and hats and bonnets, had slowed to a crawl as they watched the exchange between Temperance and Delilah with undisguised fascination. One pointed glance from Lynette, however, and they hurried on their way, muttering only heavens knew what behind their gloved hands.

  Wonderful, Lynette thought with a rueful sigh. As if this family doesn’t have enough attention already.

  “Come along.” Motioning for her sisters to step up with a sweep of her arm, she tucked them in front of her as though they were two little kittens. Two very wet, very annoyed little kittens. “We haven’t much further to go and once we are home you can both change out of your clothes and get warm in front of the fire. I will put some tea on to boil and we...can...eat…” she trailed off, her gaze suddenly fixated by a man on the opposite side of the street.

  “What can we eat?” Delilah asked over her shoulder. “Nettie? Did you hear me? I said - what are you looking at?”

  “Yes, what are you looking at?” Temperance turned around beside her sister and in unison they brought a hand to their brow and peered through the jumbled London traffic. “I do not see anything unusual. Do you?”

  Delilah frowned. “I do not believe so. Why do you think she’s not moving?”

  “I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps she has gone into shock from the cold.”

  “Or from not being hired as a seamstress.”

  “Someone cannot go into shock from not being hired as a seamstress.”

  “How do you know they can’t?” Delilah asked.

  “How do you know they can?” Temperance countered.

  “I cannot believe it,” Lynette murmured under her breath. Bringing a trembling hand to her face, she covered her mouth and spoke through the tiny gasps in her fingers. “It’s him.”

  “Who?” Temperance and Delilah said together.

  Nathaniel Blackbourne.

  Lynette could not make herself say his name aloud, but inside the silent confines of his head she was screaming it. At first glance she’d been positive she was mistaken, but the longer she stared the more wretchedly certain she became that the man walking down the other side of the street was, in fact, Nathaniel Blackbourne, Viscount of Townsend.

  It may have been three years since they’d last seen one another, but the memory of his face was forever etched in her mind. With vivid clarity she remembered the strong curve of his jaw, the color of his hair, and the deep green of his eyes but more than that, she remembered his voice. His deep, husky voice whispering across her flesh as he told her how beautiful she was. How perfect. How stunning…

  “I must speak to him,” she said, more to herself than to her sisters for she’d all but forgotten they were still with her. “He should know what his careless actions have wrought.” Without a thought to her own safety, she stepped into the street.

  “Nettie!” gasped Delilah. “What are you doing?”

  “Lynette Swan, get back here this instant!” Temperance demanded. “You are going to get yourself killed!”

  Lynette did not hear them. Above the roaring in her ears, she heard nothing. Not the smattering of raindrops on the ground. Not the clatter of hooves on the cobblestone. And not the warning shout of a driver as he pulled up his carriage two seconds too late...

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Are you awake yet?”

  Blinking drowsily at the sound of a deep - and painfully familiar - masculine voice, Lynette’s dark lashes fluttered on her pale cheeks as she slowly drew herself up from the dregs of unconsciousness and began to take note of her surroundings, first and foremost being the other occupant in the room with her.

  Nathaniel Blackbourne.

  Feeling the heavy weight of a blanket slung low over her hips she dragged it up to her chin before daring to open one eye and then the other, as though
revealing one half of Nathaniel at a time would somehow lessen the blow of discovering that it all hadn’t been a bad dream and he really had saved her from being run over from a carriage and now she was…well, come to think of it Lynette hadn’t the faintest idea where she was.

  Somewhere in his house, she would imagine, as nothing in the bedroom looked familiar. Although why he would bring her to his own private residence instead of taking her home was a mystery. As were the current whereabouts of Delilah and Temperance. She remembered them shouting at her to look out and the panicked expression on both of their faces as she stumbled and fell in front of an oncoming carriage, but after that her memory dimmed and save looking up to see Nathaniel’s vivid green eyes glaring down at her as he cradled her in his arms on the side of the road she could recall nothing.

  Of all the men in London, why did he have to be the one to save her?

  Resentment burned in her eyes as she turned her head and scowled at him. Lounging comfortably in a large upholstered chair with his legs sprawled out in front of him and his chin perched in the palm of his hand, he met her gaze and lifted a brow.

  “So you are awake. About bloody time. I have been waiting nearly an hour.”

  Arrogant brute, Lynette fumed as she struggled into a sitting position. As a young, impressionable girl of seventeen she’d been helpless to resist his charms, but now she was a woman full grown and she knew exactly what sort of man was hiding behind that charming smile. He was a rake and a rogue and she hated him.

  She hated him.

  Clutching the blankets against her chest with one hand as she leaned back against the ornate wooden headboard, she used the other to push her dark, tangled hair out of her face. The ends were still damp, which meant she couldn’t have been passed out for very long although it was impossible to judge the time given that every curtain in the bedroom was drawn and the only source of light came from two matching candles set on either side of the bed.

  “What am I doing here?” she demanded. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and a dull ache reverberated inside of her head, as though some invisible person was wielding a hammer against her skull. She felt horrible, although she supposed, all things considered, she could have felt a great deal worse had Nathaniel not dragged her away from the deadly wheels of the carriage. Filled with conflicting emotions, she glared at him, hating that he was still every bit as handsome as she remembered.

  Surely time and a life poorly lived should have dulled his appearance, or at the very least added a thin veneer of verdigris. Instead, devil take him, he’d grown even more attractive with age. His hair was a bit longer, but the length helped to counterbalance his strong features and broad jaw. His eyes were still the same sharp emerald green that had captivated her all those years ago. At the moment they held a glimmer of amusement, although he would have done far better to display at least a hint of remorse or at the very least shame for the horrible way he had treated her.

  At her question his tawny brows drew together over the bridge of his nose and his mouth settled into a firm, flat line of thinly veiled annoyance. “You are here because I saved your life. You are welcome, by the by.”

  Were Lynette in possession of Temperance’s unpredictable temper and penchant for saying whatever wild thought flew into her head, she might have made some scathing remark about how Nathaniel had ruined her life. But unlike her sister she was able to keep her emotions tightly contained and even though she would have much preferred to pick up the vase sitting on the bedside table and send it flying at his head, her expression remained completely neutral as she said, in a rather monotonous tone, “Thank you for saving my life. The effort you extended on my behalf is greatly appreciated.”

  “There,” Nathaniel said with a smirking curl of his lips. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

  Was he trying to incite her anger? For what possible purpose? Surely he didn’t think the actions he’d taken today made up for his actions all those nights ago by the fountain? If so, she was going to need to quickly disabuse him of such a notion. “Saving me from the carriage does not excuse nor erase your abominable behavior. You took advantage of me, Lord Townsend. And you did not even have the decency to own up to what you had done, but instead slithered away like the snake that you are. You might be able to fool others, but not me. I know who you are and what you have done and this – this new act of yours will not stand!”

  It wasn’t exactly what Lynette had wanted to say if she ever crossed paths with Nathaniel again, but it was close enough. Chest heaving, head pounding, pulse racing, she waited with bated breath for his retaliation.

  Taking his time, Nathaniel rubbed his chin before his eyes narrowed and he said, “What the devil are you talking about?”

  Lynette’s mouth fell open. “You do not remember?” she cried incredulously.

  “Remember what?”

  “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What was that?” Nathaniel asked, leaning forward out of his chair. When she didn’t answer – in truth, couldn’t answer for all the emotions that were swelling up inside of her – he sat back and crossed his legs at the knee, a bemused expression on his face. “Have we met before?”

  Her chin jerked in a sharp nod. “Yes,” she bit out. “Although it is apparent you do not remember. Tell me, is it because you throw yourself upon unwilling women so often you cannot tell one from the other, or because you are so dimwitted it is impossible for you to retain more than one thought in your brain at a time?”

  Nathaniel’s eyebrows had begun creeping up his temple at the start of her tirade and by the end of it they were close to his hairline. “I believe there has been some mistake,” he began slowly before Lynette’s short bark of laughter cut him off.

  “Mistake? The only mistake I ever made was listening to you. I want to leave now.” Gritting her teeth, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. When she tried to stand up, however, an overwhelming wave of dizziness seized her and she fell back onto the mattress with a quiet ‘oomph’. As black dots danced in front of her eyes she lowered her head and clenched her teeth against the sharp, shooting pain resonating in the back of her skull.

  “You are still hurt.” In an instant Nathaniel was by her side. Kneeling down, he rested one hand on her knee while the other gently lifted her chin, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing across her cheek. “Your pupils are dilated. You need to rest.”

  “Do not touch me,” she said, swatting at his hand with as much strength as she could muster which unfortunately in her current state wasn’t very much. “I must return home at once. My sisters need me.” As a belated thought occurred, her eyes widened and she drew in a sharp intake of breath. “Where are they?” she demanded. “Where are Temperance and Delilah? What have you done with them?” Her fingers tightened around the blanket as she began to imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios. Temperance may have technically been an adult, but her good judgement was shaky at best while sweet, innocent Delilah would blindly follow her sister anywhere. They could have fallen into poor company or been set upon by riff-raff or wandered down to the docks or–

  “I had them thrown into the Thames, of course.” Nathaniel sat back on his heels, countenance inscrutable save a faint tick of annoyance in his jaw.

  Lynette gasped. “You–”

  “Sent them home,” he said, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as he studied her reaction. “They were soaked to the skin and shivering, so I sent them home to change and get some warm food in their bellies. Before you woke I sent one of my maids to check on them and ensure they were safe.” His face darkened into a scowl. “What do you take me for, a monster?”

  Lynette hoped he’d meant the question as a rhetorical one, for she was quite certain he wouldn’t like her answer. Struggling to put the man she’d caught kissing another woman after he’d pledged his heart to her with the one who had been considerate enough to look after her sisters, she regarded him warily
beneath a fringe of dark lashes. “How do I know you are telling the truth?”

  “Why would I lie?”

  Why would you not?

  What sort of game was Nathaniel playing? Had she not known any better, she would have falsely assumed he was some sort of knight-in-shining-armor. A brave, heroic gentleman who had risked his own life to save hers before bringing her back to his own home to care for her. But she did know better, which meant she knew Nathaniel Blackbourne was as much a knight as she was a princess.

  “I want to leave now,” she repeated. “My sisters need me.” Whatever ruse Nathaniel was planning, she wanted no part of it. He’d already ruined her life once. She had no intention of letting him do it again. But when she tried to stand a second time she had even less success than the first and her knees buckled before she took a single step.

  “Stop trying to move,” he ordered in a tone that was surprisingly authoritative. Standing, he loomed over her, his large body thrown into silhouette by the flickering candlelight. “You’ll be little good to your sisters if you faint again. You need to rest. You took a serious blow to the head when you tripped and fell.”

  “What – what are you doing?” Lynette asked weakly, when, without warning, Nathaniel scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed no more than a sack of feathers. Futilely kicking her legs, she tilted her head back and glared up at the bottom of his chin. “Put me down this instant, Lord Townsend! This is highly inappropriate and I will not be manhandled again! Do you hear me?”

  Ignoring her protests, he swiftly carried her out the bedroom and down the hall. Lynette caught a glimpse of dark wood paneling and elegant sterling silver sconces before she was brought into a room easily three times the size of the last.

  It only took one glance around to determine Nathaniel had brought her into the master bedchamber. Bookshelves lined the walls and a gaming table occupied the far corner. Draped in a sumptuous red silk cover, a four-poster bed dominated the room. Matching curtains covered the windows although one was pulled back just enough for Lynette to catch a glimpse of the sky.

 

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