“When?” Nic asked, wondering how the hell he could get Louis to agree to them spilling their darkest secrets to Eliza’s family when they had worked so damn hard to keep them buried.
Louis might have urged him to tell Eliza, but the duke and Gabriel and Montagu… that was another matter.
“Come and see me tomorrow afternoon. You and your brother. Once I know, I can decide how best to proceed and if it is anything Bedwin needs to know.”
“Christ,” Nic said, raking a hand through his hair.
Gabriel snorted. “Buck up. I think I like you and, believe me, you need me to like you.”
Nic had to laugh at that. “Oh, I believe you,” he said.
He watched Gabriel walk away and speak to Lord Montagu. He knew the two men were close, a friendship the ton was deeply shocked by and uncomfortable with, but Montagu had ever gone his own way, and no one dared to disparage him for it. Montagu’s silver-grey eyes moved to Nic, assessing but giving nothing away.
“Help me.”
Nic turned to see his Louis César at his side.
“I might have asked the same of you,” Nic retorted. “Putain. Could you not see I was being dangled by my tender parts over a sheer drop?”
“No,” Louis said with feeling. “I was too busy keeping furniture between me and Miss Hunt.”
Nic snorted despite his predicament. “She’s decided you are husband material.”
“Really? I feel more like prey.”
Nic looked over at Arabella Hunt, a diminutive redhead with a look of determination in her eyes. He smiled. “She’s very beautiful.”
“I know that,” Louis said irritably. “I’m not blind.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Nic demanded. “You came here to get married, Louis.”
“No, you brought me here to get married.” Louis folded his arms, looking mutinous. “Just because I must do it does not mean I want to, or am in any rush to do so.”
“Well, never mind that for now. We have a more immediate problem.”
“Really?” Louis looked almost relieved.
Nic explained everything that Gabriel Hunt had just told him.
Louis shrugged, looking far more sanguine than Nic might have expected. “I told you, it was bound to come out, eventually. Did I not instruct you to tell Eliza? This is to be your world, Nic, your family. Gabriel is right. You must trust them, or they will never trust you.”
“But what about you, Louis?”
Louis shrugged. “You are my family, Nic. I trust you. We rise or fall together, brother.”
Nic let out a breath.
“Together,” he agreed, nodding.
Louis César smiled at him.
Chapter 17
Dear Cat,
Who is she? I have five sisters, three female cousins, and you to contend with. I’m not sure I can cope with any more ‘extraordinary girls’.
PS. I don’t doubt you’ll get the book from somewhere, you dreadful creature, but it won’t be my copy!
――Excerpt of a letter from Lord Frederick Adolphus (younger son of the Duke and Duchess of Bedwin) to Lady Catherine ‘Cat’ Barrington (youngest daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu).
10th April 1839, Beverwyck, London.
Finally, the evening was at an end. Some guests were staying at Beverwyck for the night, but Louis César and Nic said their goodbyes and went out to find footmen waiting with their hats and coats.
“Thank God that’s over,” Louis said under his breath as they walked to the front door and their waiting carriage.
“I rather enjoyed it,” Nic admitted, realising to his surprise that it was true. Despite one or two uncomfortable moments, he felt he’d acquitted himself well enough. Eliza had certainly seemed pleased, and he’d thought he might have seen a glimmer of approval in her father’s eyes, though that may have been wishful thinking. “I’m not much looking forward to tomorrow, though.”
Nic looked at his brother as Louis grimaced in sympathy, but they both knew it had to be done. Sink or swim. Tomorrow would give them the answer as to which one it would be.
“Nic!”
Nic swung around to see Eliza hurrying towards him.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Louis said, winking at him and heading outside to their carriage.
Eliza threw her arms about his neck and kissed him soundly.
“I couldn’t let you go without a kiss, Nic,” she said breathlessly. “You were marvellous tonight. Everyone thought so, I know they did. Even Papa.”
Nic let out a breath and held her tighter. “Do you really think so?”
Eliza nodded. “I do, but more importantly, I thought you were marvellous.”
“That is certainly the most important thing of all.”
She stared up at him, such longing in her eyes that Nic’s skin prickled with desire.
“I ought to go,” he said reluctantly.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered. “I want to be with you.”
Nic swallowed hard.
“You will be,” he said, finding his mouth suddenly dry. “Your father said he would approve our marriage if—”
“Oh, he will approve it,” Eliza said impatiently. “But he will insist that it be a long engagement as soon as he knows I’m not pregnant, and I shall go mad if I must wait any longer for you.”
“How long?” Nic asked in horror.
“Six months at least,” Eliza replied, her face the picture of gloom.
Nic might have laughed if he hadn’t felt so appalled himself. Six months! He’d lose his mind before then.
“There’s a candle in my window, Nic,” Eliza whispered. “I’ll dismiss my maid and—”
“We can’t,” Nic said, telling himself he must be sensible, even though he was already considering the building and how he might get up there.
“Is it too difficult?” Eliza asked, her face falling. “I should not want you to hurt yourself. Perhaps I could go to the back door and let you in.”
“No!” Nic said at once, horrified at the idea she might get caught. “No. I….”
Eliza sighed and smiled up at him. “No. I know. It was just wishful thinking but… oh, Nic. Six months? Whatever will we do?”
“I don’t know,” Nic said, shaking his head. He doubted the conversation he was going to have with Gabriel tomorrow would shorten that time. If he wasn’t shown the door at once, it was more likely it would rise to six years once Bedwin knew the truth about him and Louis.
“I could tell them—” Eliza began, but Nic pressed a finger to her lips.
“No. No lies. That’s not how we shall start our married life, Eliza. Besides, you could never go through with it. Saying you’d been compromised when you’d spent the night in my bed was one thing, saying you’re with child when you’re not is something else.”
Eliza nodded. “I know. You’re right, unless… unless I was with child.”
She blushed and sent him an appealing look.
“Good God,” Nic said in astonishment. “Who are you and what have you done with Lady Elizabeth Adolphus?”
She laughed a little and shook her head. “She was an illusion, just as you always knew, Nic.”
Nic shook his head. “No, she wasn’t. She was and is as kind and sweet and beautiful as I always imagined she would be, if perhaps rather more reckless and brazen than I ever dreamed.”
She beamed at him for that and Nic ached to kiss her again, but he didn’t dare. Eliza didn’t have any such qualms. She lifted herself up on her toes and dragged his head down to hers. Nic groaned softly as her tongue traced his lips, seeking entry. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, as longing built inside him. He didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to go out into the night and get in his carriage and drive away when she was here, warm and willing and wanting him with a need that matched his own.
“I love you,” she said, breathless as she broke the kiss, desire glittering in her eyes.
“Je’taime,” he s
aid helplessly. “Je’taime.”
He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again, but footsteps on the marble floor made him let her go.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, looking for all the world as if she would stamp her foot with impatience and irritation, though he knew it was not aimed at him.
In other circumstances it might have been amusing, but as it was, he wanted to throw things and have a temper fit like a child denied a treat.
“I must go,” he said, his voice rough.
Though it was nigh on impossible to leave her, he forced himself to turn and walk away. Resolutely he strode to the carriage, climbed in, and slammed the door shut.
“Is there a problem?” Louis asked, staring at him.
“Yes. A six month engagement,” Nic said, still seething with frustration.
“Ah.”
Nic put his head in his hands and blew out a long breath.
“I know I should be grateful. I know I should say I’ll wait forever, and I would if there were a reason for it,” he said, his voice terse and defensive even though Louis hadn’t said a word and never would. “I would, but… oh, bloody hell, Louis, six months?”
Louis nodded his understanding, though he didn’t understand, not really. Louis had never been in love. He seemed to regard the state of affairs as some form of affliction which would never trouble him, as he was immune. Perhaps he was. Nic wasn’t certain whether to envy him or pity the poor fool.
“Well, Lord Pinnock was a piece of work, was he not? And his pretty sister.”
Nic grunted, knowing Louis was trying his best to distract him. “I didn’t have trouble with the sister, past avoiding her sheep’s eyes and trying not to stare at those emeralds. My God, Louis, have you ever seen the like?”
“No,” Louis admitted with a wistful sigh. “It was almost enough to tempt me into behaving very badly, if not for the fact Miss Talbot would have taken my appearance in her chamber after dark in entirely the wrong light. I swear, Nic, it was like sitting next to an octopus.”
“Really?” Nic replied, momentarily distracted despite his own predicament.
“Really. If the roles had been reversed, I would have been called out for a despicable cad. As it was, I had to endure and try to protect my… er… honour, as best I could.”
“Poor Louis,” Nic said, amused and sympathetic all at once. Louis was used to being pursued by now, but his brother did seem a little rattled.
“Indeed. Miss Talbot to my left, Miss Hunt before me. I felt like a juicy bone between two hungry Pekinese, a description which flatters none of us.”
Nic snorted and decided they had better not linger. He banged the side of the carriage, giving the driver leave to depart.
“There was something about Miss Talbot I did not like,” Louis said thoughtfully.
“Apart from her wandering hands?” Nic asked.
Louis nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes. Well, I wasn’t enamoured of her brother either, the prick.”
“Indeed,” Louis agreed. “You handled him perfectly, by the way. Well done. You could not have done better, yet… I don’t know.”
He frowned thoughtfully. Nic left him to it. Louis had the sharpest mind of anyone he’d ever known, not that many people saw that. Louis hid it, as he hid most things about himself.
Nic sighed and sat back, staring out at a world cast in silver moonlight. As the carriage turned and moved along the driveway that led past the south side of the house, Nic’s breath caught. There was the soft glimmer of light behind some windows, around the edges where curtains had been closed, but there was one window with a candle burning brightly, beckoning.
“Damn, Eliza,” he said softly, torn between laughter and despair.
“What?” Louis asked, turning and following Nic’s gaze. He laughed on seeing the candle and shook his head. “For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation.”
Nic turned back to him, his expression wry. “Et voila. I always said you were a romantic.”
Louis snorted. “You’re the one about to scale the side of a building to be with your beloved, not me.”
“I never said….” Nic began, but Louis knocked at the carriage roof and it slowed to a halt. He leaned over and swung open the door. “Just go, for heaven’s sake. I cannot look upon your desolate expression a moment longer. Just don’t bloody well get caught.”
Nic laughed and let out a breath of relief. “Wish me luck, Louis.”
“Toujours, brother mine,” Louis replied with a grin.
Eliza stared wistfully at the candle. She knew Nic wouldn’t come, but she at least wanted him to know that she wished he could with all her heart, and that she would be thinking of him. Nevertheless, she dismissed Martha as soon as she was undressed, just as she had said she would. She did not want her maid around, knowing she still disapproved of Nic, and of Eliza for choosing him. She could not help but feel it was Martha who would feel the comedown in station, not her. Martha had assumed she would be a lady-in-waiting to a duchess, or a vicomtesse at the very least. To discover her lady wished to marry a mere Mr, and an illegitimate one at that, must be quite a blow.
Eliza sat at her dressing table, brushing out her hair and remembering the events of the evening. Goodness, but Nic had looked handsome in evening attire. It had been torture to sit opposite him, so close but not close enough to touch. Perhaps that had been for the best, though. She might have distracted him if they’d been seated beside each other, and he had behaved so very well. Eliza had felt such pride in him she surprised herself. So many warnings had been given her, mostly from Nic himself, about how she would feel to see him in her world that, in a small corner of her heart, she had worried they were right, and she was wrong. Tonight she had known she had not been wrong. Yes, all her ambitions had hoped for a duke or marquess to help her with her future projects, but she’d had offers of that nature and not been tempted to take them. She was greedy enough to want to be loved and to love, and she knew now that was a precious enough commodity to be worth holding onto wherever it was found. Just look at what she had achieved already, and she knew Nic would continue to support and help her. Eliza knew she did not need to become a duchess to succeed, and certainly not to be happy… she just needed Nic. She did not care he had no title, did not care a jot that he was illegitimate, or and that there were some who would think she had lowered herself by marrying him. That was their problem, not hers. Nic was everything she wanted and needed and… and oh, how she needed him. If only….
A tapping sound made her look around at the window and Eliza squealed, smacking her hand over her mouth to smother the sound before anyone heard.
“Nic!”
She ran to the window, moving aside the candle and opening it wide.
“Oh, my goodness, I… I never really….”
Nic squeezed his large frame through the narrow casement with difficulty and landed in a heap.
“Bonsoir, mon amour,” he said, grinning at her, flat on his back on the floor of her bedroom.
Eliza gave a delighted laugh and fell to her knees, covering his face with kisses. “Oh, Nic, Nic, I can’t believe you really did it. Was it very difficult?”
“Piece of cake,” he said, blowing out a breath.
But her hand was on his chest and his heart was thundering. She gave him a sceptical glance.
“Climbing was no problem. Worrying I’d get caught made it rather more invigorating than it might have been.”
“Well, you’re here now,” she said, staring down at him. “So I had better make it worth your while.”
She bent again and kissed him, deep and slow. When she pulled back, his eyes were dark with wanting. Eliza smiled and sat up on her knees, reaching for the hem of her nightgown, but Nic took hold of one hand, stilling the movement.
“Non. I came to be with you, Eliza, but not… I don’t want to….” He stopped himself and laughed. “Mon Dieu, what am I saying?”
“I h
ave no idea,” Eliza said, a little tartly. “What are you saying?”
Nic smiled and sat up, going to his knees in front of her.
“I want to marry you knowing I did things right, Eliza. At least… mostly right,” he added ruefully. “I couldn’t stay away, but I won’t… not that.”
Eliza huffed, too disappointed not to show it. He smiled at her, clearly pleased at her obvious disappointment, the wretch.
“Don’t worry, mon coeur, I shall take care of you.”
Well, that sounded interesting. He got to his feet and helped her up. Tilting her chin up, he kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth.
“Lie down on the bed.”
Eliza shivered at the commanding tone of his voice which reminded her of earlier that day and hurried to comply. She settled back against the pillows and watched as he stripped off his cravat, coat and waistcoat, and then pulled his shirt over his head. Eliza sighed happily. He was powerfully made, all muscle and sinew, years of physical exertion at the circus giving him a body that made her tremble with excitement and anticipation. How she was supposed to keep her hands off him for months before they were married, she simply could not comprehend… not that she had the slightest intention of keeping her hands off him at all. Nic sat on the edge of the bed and tugged off his boots before climbing onto the mattress.
“You’ve still got too many clothes on,” she complained as he climbed over her.
“I’ve only got so much willpower,” he said, smiling down at her. “Best keep things as they are.”
Eliza sighed with regret, but slid her hands over his skin, so hot and silky under her palms. She toyed with the coarse hair on his chest, feeling the rasp of it as it tangled about her fingers, following the trail down his abdomen as his muscles leapt beneath her touch. Nic grasped her wrist and pinned it over her head.
“Non,” he said, shaking his head. “Behave.”
“Make me,” she replied, breathless now as excitement coursed through her.
Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2) Page 21