The vehicle pulled away with a jolt before the horses settled into their rhythm. Lottie leaned her head back against the velvet upholstery, her eyes closed, her mouth trembling. The glitter of unshed tears appeared beneath her rich gold lashes. aFoolishly I had hoped for a warmer reception,a she said, trying for an ironic tone and failing completely as a half sob escaped her throat.
Nick sat there unnerved and d.a.m.nably helpless, his body tensing all over. The sight of his wife crying filled him with alarm. To his relief, she managed to gain control over her emotions, and she pressed the heels of her gloved hands to her eyes.
aThey couldnat afford to turn down my offer,a Nick said, aunless they were still receiving money from Radnor.a Lottie shook her head in confusion. aBut it makes no sense that he would continue to support my family now that Iave married you.a aDo they have any other source of income?a aI canat think of one. Perhaps my uncle may be able to give them a little. Not enough to keep them indefinitely, however.a aHmmm.a Considering various possibilities, Nick leaned back into the corner of his seat, his gaze fixed on the scenery that jostled past the window.
aNickadid you really tell Lord Radnor that you would repay my school tuition for all those years?a aYes.a Strangely, Lottie did not ask why, only occupied herself with arranging her skirts and tugging her sleeves down to cover her wrists. Removing her gloves, she folded them and set them beside her on the carriage seat. Nick watched her through half-closed eyes. When she could find nothing left to adjust or straighten, she brought herself to look at him. aWhat now?a she asked, as if preparing for a new round of difficulties.
Nick considered the question, feeling a tug in the center of his chest as he saw the resolution in her expression. She had endured the past few days with an equanimity that was extraordinary for a girl her age. No doubt any other young woman would have been reduced to a sobbing heap by now. He wanted to remove the strained look from her eyes and for once see her carefree and relaxed.
aWell, Mrs. Gentry,a he said, moving to the s.p.a.ce beside her, afor the next day or two, I propose that we have some fun.a aFun,a she repeated, as if the word were unfamiliar. aForgive me, but my capacity for enjoyment is rather diminished at present.a Nick smiled and settled his hand on the outline of her thigh. aYouare in the most exciting city in the world,a he murmured, ain the company of a virile young husband and his ill-gotten gains.a He kissed her ear, making her shiver. aBelieve me, Lottie, there is a great deal of fun to be had.a Lottie would not have thought that anything could shake her from her despondency after the cold reception from her mother. However, Nick engaged her so thoroughly during the next few days that she found it difficult to think about anything but him.
That night Nick took her to a theatrical tavern where music and comical acts were staged to draw in customers. Located in Covent Garden, the Vestrisa"named after a once-popular Italian opera dancera"was a meeting ground for theatrical folk, slumming n.o.bles, and all manner of colorful characters. The place was dirty and reeking of wine and smoke, the floor so sticky that Lottie was in danger of walking right out of her shoes. She crossed the threshold with reluctance, as young women of quality were never seen in such places unless in the company of their husbandsa"and even then it was highly questionable. Nick was immediately hailed by the occupants of the tavern, many of them appearing to be complete ruffians. After a brief interval of backslapping and an exchange of friendly insults, Nick took Lottie to a table. They were served a dinner of beefsteak and potatoes, a bottle of port, and two mugs of something called aheavy wet.a Although Lottie had never eaten in public before and felt absurdly self-conscious, she gamely attacked a beefsteak that could easily have served a family of four. aWhat is this?a she asked, gingerly taking her mug and peering into the foaming brown depths.
aAle,a Nick replied, resting his arm along the back of her chair. aTry some.a Obediently she took a sip of the thick grain-flavored beverage, and her entire face wrinkled in distaste. Laughing at her expression, Nick told a nearby barmaid to fetch her some gin punch. More patrons crowded into the building, mugs were clanked heavily on the battered wooden tables, and barmaids moved busily among the crowd with large pitchers.
At the front of the tavern, a comic musical ditty was being performed by a slender woman wearing menas clothing and a portly gentleman with a luxuriant moustache who was dressed as a country maid, with a huge false bosom that swayed from side to side as he moved. As the alada chased the amaida around the tavern, singing a soulful love song that praised her beauty, the place erupted in bellows of laughter. The sheer silliness of the performance was impossible to resist. Tucked against her husbandas side, with a cup of astringent gin punch in her hands, Lottie tried without success to stifle a fit of giggles.
More performances followedabawdy songs and dances, comic verse, even a display of acrobatic tumbling and juggling. The hour grew late, the corners of the tavern became shadowy, and in the relaxed atmosphere, more than a few couples began to indulge in some indiscreet fondling and kissing. Lottie knew that she should have been shocked, but the gin punch had made her sleepy and thickheaded. She discovered that she was sitting on Nickas lap, her legs tucked between his, and that the only reason she was able to sit upright was the fact that his arms were around her.
aOh, dear,a she said, staring into her nearly empty cup. aDid I drink all of that?a Nick took the cup from her and set it on the table. aIam afraid so.a aOnly you could undo my years of training at Maidstoneas in one evening,a she said, making him grin.
His gaze lowered to her mouth, and he traced the edge of her jaw with his fingertip. aAre you completely corrupted now? No? Then letas go home, and Iall finish the job.a Feeling unsteady and very warm, Lottie giggled as he guided her through the tavern. aThe floor is uneven,a she told him, leaning hard against his side.
aItas not the floor, sweetheart, itas your feet.a Pondering that, Lottie glanced from his amused face to her own feet. aThey do feel as if theyave been put on the wrong legs.a Nick shook his head, his blue eyes gleaming with laughter. aYou have no tolerance for gin, do you? Here, let me carry you.a aNo, I donat wish to be a spectacle,a she protested as he lifted her against his chest and carried her out to the street. Catching sight of them, a waiting footman hurried to the end of the street, where their carriage waited in a long row.
aYouall be more of a spectacle if you fall on your face,a Nick replied.
aIam notthat far gone,a Lottie protested. However, his arms were so solid and his shoulder so inviting that she snuggled against him with a sigh. The slightly musky scent of his skin mingled with the crisp smell of starch from his necktie, a blend so alluring that she inched closer to inhale deeply.
Nick stopped by the side of the street. His head turned, his shaven cheek brushing hers and making her skin tingle. aWhat are you doing?a aYour smellaa she said dreamily. aItas wonderful. I noticed it the first time we met, when you nearly knocked me off the wall.a A laugh stirred in his throat. aI saved you from falling, you mean.a Intrigued by the scratchy texture of his skin, Lottie pressed her lips beneath his jaw. She felt him swallow hard, the movement rippling against her mouth. It was the first time she had ever made an advance to him, and the small gesture was surprisingly effective. He stood there holding her tightly, his chest rising and falling in increasingly labored breaths. Intrigued by the notion that she could arouse him so easily, Lottie tugged at the knot of his necktie and kissed the side of his throat.
aDonat, Lottie.a She drew the tip of her fingernail over the hair-roughened skin, sc.r.a.ping delicately.
aLottieaa he tried again. Whatever he had intended to say was forgotten as she kissed his ear and took the lobe between her teeth in a soft bite.
The carriage stopped before them, and the footman busied himself with setting out the removable step. Schooling his features into a blank mask, Nick thrust Lottie inside the carriage and climbed in after her.
As soon as the door closed, he hauled her into his lap and tugged roughly at the front of her gown. She reached up to play with his hair, tangling her fingers in the thick sable locks. Unlacing the top of her corset, he eased one breast out and fastened his mouth over the soft nipple. The teasing suction caused her to arch against him with a whimper of pleasure. His hands delved frantically beneath her skirts, slipping past ma.s.ses of broadcloth and linen to find the damp slit of her drawers. His hand was too large to slip inside the undergarment, and he ripped it with an ease that made her gasp. Her thighs spread in helpless welcome, and her vision blurred as one long finger eased inside her. Cradled in his lap, with his hand working gently between her legs, she felt her inner muscles begin to tighten rhythmically.
A groan escaped him, and he pulled her hips over his, fumbling roughly with the front of his trousers. aYouare so wetaI canat wait, Lottie, let measit in my lap, and put your legsaoh, G.o.d, yes, right thereaa She straddled him willingly, sucking in her breath as he penetrated her, his hands urging her hips down until he had buried himself to the hilt. He was deliciously hard and thick inside her, holding still while the motion of the carriage jostled their bodies together. Surrept.i.tiously Lottie rubbed the aching peak of her s.e.x against him, feeling waves of heat rising from the place they were joined. One of his hands pa.s.sed gently over her upper back.
Lottie gasped as a vigorous jolt of the carriage wheels impelled him farther inside her. aWe donat have long,a she managed to say against his throat. aThe tavern is very close to home.a Nick responded with a tortured groan. aThe next time Iall make the driver take us around the whole of Londonatwice.a He slid his thumb to the top of her wet s.e.x and flicked it with soft, rapid strokes, building her pleasure rapidly until she curled against him with a sob, overwhelmed by explosive sensation. Hitching his hips upward in desperate thrusts, he growled and buried his face in the curve of her neck, his pa.s.sion reaching a blinding culmination.
They both breathed in long gasps, while their naked flesh was locked together beneath the layers of disheveled clothing. aItas never enough,a Nick said gruffly, his hand cupping over her soft b.u.t.tocks, holding her firmly against him. aIt feels too good to stop.a Lottie understood what he was attempting to express. The unquenchable need between them was more than mere physical craving. She found a satisfaction in being together that went far beyond the joining of their bodies. Until this moment, however, she hadnat known that he felt it tooaand she wondered if he was as afraid to acknowledge the feeling as she was.
Chapter Eleven.
London was so vastly different from the serenity of Hampshire that Lottie could scarcely believe it was in the same country. It was a world of high fashion and endless amus.e.m.e.nts, with a sharp juxtaposition of poverty and wealth, and crime-ridden alleys tucked behind the streets of prosperous markets and shops. There was the area past Temple Bar called the City, and the west side, referred to as atown,a and an abundance of gardens, walks, concert halls, and shops featuring luxuries that she could never have imagined.
As the second week of their marriage began, Nick seemed to find it amusing to indulge Lottie as if she were a child he was bent on spoiling. He took her to a confectioneras shop at Berkeley Square and bought her an ice made of pureed chestnuts mixed liberally with candied cherries. Afterward they proceeded to Bond Street, where he purchased her a selection of French powders and scented waters, and a dozen pairs of embroidered silk stockings. Lottie tried to stop him from buying a fortuneas worth of white gloves and handkerchiefs from the linen-draperas, and she objected strongly to a pair of pink silk shoes with gold ta.s.sels that would have cost a full monthas tuition at Maidstoneas. However, Nick ignored her protests as he continued to purchase whatever caught his fancy. Their final stop was at a tea shop, where he ordered a half-dozen exotic teas in beautiful jars, bearing intriguing names such as agunpowder,a acongou,a or asouchong.a Envisioning the mountain of packages that would be delivered later that day to the house on Betterton, Lottie begged him to desist. aI need nothing else,a she said firmly, aand I refuse to set foot in one more shop. There is no reason for such immoderation.a aYes, there is,a Nick replied, escorting her to their waiting carriage, piled high with parcels and boxes.
aOh? What is it?a He responded with a maddening smile. Surely he didnat think that he was purchasing her s.e.xual favors, as she had been more than acquiescent in that regard. Perhaps he simply wanted her to feel obligated to him? But why?
Life with Nick Gentry was turning out to be quite puzzling, consisting of moments of searing closeness interspersed with small reminders that they were still complete strangers in most regards. She did not understand why Nick left her bed every night after making love to her, never allowing himself to drift to sleep beside her. After everything else they had shared, that seemed harmless enough. But he refused her awkward invitations to stay, stating that he preferred to sleep alone, and they would both be more comfortable that way.
Lottie quickly discovered that certain subjects set off Nickas temper like a flame held to gunpowder. She learned never to question him about any part of his boyhood, and that any reference to the days before he took the name of Nick Gentry would earn his certain wrath. When he became angry, he did not shout or throw things, but instead was coldly quiet and left the house, and did not return until long after she had gone to bed. She learned also that Nick never allowed himself to be vulnerable in any way. He preferred to stay in complete control of himself and his environment. He considered it unmanly for someone not to be able to hold his liquora"she had yet to see him drink to excess. Even sleep seemed to be a luxury he did not like to indulge in too often, as if he could not afford to relax into unguarded slumber. In fact, according to Sophia, Nick had never even allowed physical injuries to hamper hima"he stubbornly refused to yield to pain or weakness.
aWhy?a Lottie had asked Sophia in genuine bewilderment, as they went for dress fittings and waited for the gowns to be brought out. aWhat does he fear, that he cannot allow himself to be unprotected for one moment?a For a moment, Nickas older sister had stared at her with an obvious longing to reply. Her deep blue eyes were filled with sadness. aI hope that someday he will confide in you,a she said softly. aIt is a great burden to bear alone. I am certain that he fears your reaction, once you are told.a aTold what?a Lottie persisted, but to her frustration, Sophia would not answer.
Some great fearful secret. Lottie could not fathom what it might be. She could only suppose that he had killed someone, perhaps in a furya"that was the worst thing she could think of. She knew that he had committed crimes in his past, that he had done things that would probably horrify her. He was so guarded and self-possessed that it seemed she would never come to know him fully.
In other ways, however, Nick was an unexpectedly tender and generous husband. He coaxed her to tell him all the rules that had been drilled into her at school, and then he proceeded to make her break every single one of them. There were nights when he launched a gentle a.s.sault on her modesty, undressing her in the lamplight and making her watch as he kissed her from head to toeaand others when he made love to her in exotic ways that shamed and excited her beyond bearing. He could arouse her with a single glance, a brief caress, a soft word whispered in her ear. It seemed to Lottie that entire days pa.s.sed in a haze of s.e.xual desire, her awareness of him simmering beneath everything they did.
After the crates of books she had ordered arrived, she read to Nick in the evenings, as she sat in bed and he lounged beside her. Sometimes while he listened, Nick would pull her legs into his lap and ma.s.sage her feet, running his thumbs along her instep and playing gently with her toes. Whenever Lottie paused in her reading, she always found his gaze fastened securely on her. He never seemed to tire of staring at heraas if he were trying to uncover some mystery that was hidden in her eyes.
One evening he taught her to play cards, claiming s.e.xual liberties as forfeits each time she lost. They ended up on the carpeted floor in a tangle of limbs and clothing, while Lottie breathlessly accused him of cheating. He only grinned in reply, thrusting his head beneath her skirts until the issue was entirely forgotten.
Nick was an exciting companiona"a fascinating storyteller, a superb dancer, a skilled lover. He was playful but not at all boyish, never quite losing the seasoned look that proclaimed he had seen and done enough to last several lifetimes. He escorted Lottie around London with an energy that far eclipsed her own, seeming to know and be known by practically everyone. More than once, at a subscription dance, or a private party, or even walking through the park, Lottie could not help but be aware of the attention he attracted. Nick was regarded as either a hero or a devil, depending on oneas view, and everyone wanted to be seen with him regardless. Innumerable men came to shake his hand, and to seek his opinions on various matters. Women, on the other hand, trembled and giggled and flirted shamelessly with him, even in Lottieas presence. Lottie witnessed such overtures with surprised disgruntlement, realizing that she felt very much like a jealous wife.
At the invitation of some friends, Nick and Lottie attended a play at Drury Lane that staged naval battles using complicated machinery and light displays to thrilling effect. Actors dressed like sailors hurled themselves from the sides of the ashipa in perfect conjunction with the bursts of cannon-fire, their shirts blotched with red paint to resemble blood. The results were so realistic that Lottie clapped her hands over her ears and hid her face against Nickas chest, disregarding his laughing efforts to make her watch the action.
Perhaps it was the violence of the display, or the aftereffects of the wine she had drunk with supper, but Lottie felt apprehensive as they left their box seats at the first intermission. Theatergoers mingled in the hall downstairs, partaking of refreshments and chattering excitedly about the graphic onstage battles they had just witnessed. As the atmosphere in the crowded room became stifling, Nick left Lottie in the company of friends as he went to fetch her a gla.s.s of lemonade. Lottie forced a smile to her lips as she half-listened to the conversation around her, hoping that he would return soon. How quickly she had become accustomed to Nickas rea.s.suring presence beside her, she thought.
It was ironic. After so many years of being told that she belonged to Lord Radnor, she had never been able to accept it. And yet it felt entirely natural to belong to a virtual stranger. She remembered Lord Westcliffas warning about Nick Gentry.He is not to be trusted , Westcliff had said. But the earl had been wrong. Regardless of Nickas shadowy past, he had been gentle and considerate with her, and more than worthy of her trust.
As Lottie cast a glance around the a.s.semblage, hoping to catch sight of him, her attention was caught by a figure standing several yards away from her.
Radnor, she thought, while a shower of icy needles seemed to rain down on her. Every muscle lockedashe was frozen with the same fear she had felt during two years of being hunted. His face was partially averted from her horrified gaze, but she saw his iron-gray hair, the haughty tilt of his head, the black slashes of his brows. And then he turned in her direction, as if he sensed her presence in the crowded hall.
Immediately her silent terror turned to bewildermentano, it was not Radnor, only a man who resembled him. The gentleman nodded and smiled to her, as strangers sometimes did when their gazes happened to meet. He turned back to his companions, while Lottie looked down at her clenched hands in their pale pink gloves and tried to calm the thrashing of her heart. The aftereffects of the shock hit heraa touch of nausea, a dousing of cold sweat, a trembling that refused to abate.How ridiculous you are , she told herself, disgusted by the fact that the mere glance of a man who looked like Radnor could have elicited such an overreaction.
aMrs. Gentry,a came a nearby voice. It was Mrs. Howsham, a pleasant and soft-spoken woman whom Lottie had only recently met. aAre you feeling ill, dear? You look rather queer.a She looked into Mrs. Howshamas face. aItas rather stifling in here,a she whispered. aAnd I think Iave laced a bit too tightly this evening.a aAh, yes,a the woman said in wry understanding, familiar with the complaints that corset strings often induced. aThe perils of fashion we must sufferaa To Lottieas relief, Nick appeared at her side, a gla.s.s of lemonade in hand. Instantly perceiving that something was wrong, he slid a supportive arm behind her. aWhat is it?a he asked, staring alertly at her pale face.
Mrs. Howsham took it upon herself to answer. aTight-lacing, Mr. GentryaI suggest that you take her somewhere a bit more secluded than this. A breath of fresh air often helps.a Keeping his arm around Lottie, Nick guided her through the hall. The night air caused Lottie to shiver as her sweat-soaked garments turned clammy. Carefully Nick drew her to the lee of a ma.s.sive column that blocked the light and noise coming from inside the building.
aIt was nothing,a Lottie told him sheepishly. aNothing at all. I feel like an idiot, making a fuss for no reason.a Accepting the lemonade from him, she drank thirstily, not stopping until the gla.s.s was drained.
Nick bent to set the empty gla.s.s on the ground and rose to face Lottie once more. His face was taut as he took a handkerchief from his coat and wiped the trickling perspiration from her cheeks and forehead. aTell me what happened,a he said quietly.
Lottie flushed in embarra.s.sment. aI thought I saw Lord Radnor in there. But it was only a man who looked like him.a She sighed tensely. aNow Iave revealed myself to be an utter coward. Iam sorry.a aRadnor rarely goes out in public,a Nick murmured. aItas not likely that you would encounter him at an event like this.a aI know,a she said ruefully. aUnfortunately I didnat stop to think about that.a aYouare not a coward.a There was concern in his dark blue eyesaconcern overlaying some richer, more mysterious emotion underneath.
aI reacted like a child whoas afraid of the dark.a His fingers slid beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. aItas conceivable that you will encounter Radnor someday,a he said softly. aBut Iall be with you when or if that happens, Lottie. You donat have to fear him anymore. Iall keep you safe.a She felt a rush of wonder at the tender gravity of his expression. aThank you,a she replied, taking a full breath for the first time since they had left the hall.
Continuing to stare into her pale, damp face, Nick shook his head with a slight frown, as if the sight of her distress was painful to him. Seeming unable to help himself, he reached out and pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her as he tried to comfort her with his body. There was nothing s.e.xual about the embrace, but somehow it was more intimate than anything they had ever done together. His arms were strong and possessive, holding her steady while his breath fell in moist, hot surges against her neck.
aShall I take you home?a he whispered.
Lottie nodded slowly, while a lifetime of loneliness transformed into a sense of inconceivable comfort. A homeaa husbandathings she had never let herself hope for. Surely this illusion couldnat lasta"somehow, someday, it would be taken away from her. But until that happened, she would cherish every moment.
aYes,a she said, her voice m.u.f.fled against his coat. aLetas go home.a Gradually emerging from a deep sleep, Lottie became aware of odd noises in the house. Thinking that perhaps the sounds were a remnant of a dream, she blinked and sat up slowly in bed. It was the middle of the night, and the bedroom was pitch black. There it was againaa growl, a garbled phraseaas if someone were in the midst of an argument. Recalling that Nick was occasionally troubled by nightmares, Lottie sprang from the bed. Carefully she lit a lamp, replaced the gla.s.s, and carried it with her down the hall.
Shadows fled before her as she approached the guest room where Nick slept. Pausing at the closed door, she tapped on it cautiously. There was no reply. After a moment, she heard a violent rustling from within. Lottie turned the k.n.o.b and entered the bedroom.
aNick?a He was stretched out on the bed, lying on his stomach with the sheet twisted at his hips. Breathing rapidly, he clenched his fists and muttered incoherently, his dark face gleaming with sweat. Staring at him in puzzled concern, Lottie wondered what unseen monsters could cause his long body to twitch with what was either suppressed rage, or fear, or both. She set the lamp on the bedside table and approached him.
aNick, wake up. Itas only a dream.a Reaching out to him, she laid a gentle hand on the brutal curve of his shoulder. aNicka"a Suddenly she was caught in an explosion of violence. A startled cry escaped her as she was seized and flung halfway across the bed. Nick was on her in an instant, straddling her with his powerful thighs. Hearing a murderous growl, Lottie looked up into the harsh, shadowed mask of his face and saw one huge hand draw back in a fist.
aNo!a she gasped, shielding her face with her arms.
The strike never came. All went still. Trembling, Lottie lowered her arms and looked up to see Nickas face change, the nightmarish mask dropping, sanity and awareness creeping back into his expression. He lowered his fist and stared at it blankly. Then his gaze fell to Lottieas slim form, and the fury and terror in his eyes made her cringe.
aI could have killed you,a he snarled, his white teeth gleaming like an animalas. aWhat are you doing here? Donatever touch me while Iam sleeping, d.a.m.n you!a aI didnat know, Iawhat in heavenas name were you dreaming about?a He rolled away from her in a lithe movement and left the bed, panting. aNothing. Nothing at all.a aI thought you needed somethinga"a aAll I need is for you to stay the h.e.l.l away from me,a he snapped. Finding his discarded clothes on a chair, he jerked his trousers on.
Lottie felt as if she had been struck. She hated it that his words had the power to hurt her. Even more than that, she was anguished for him, wishing he did not have to bear such torment alone.
aGet out of here,a he said, pulling his shirt and coat on, not bothering with a waistcoat or necktie.
aAre you leaving?a Lottie asked. aThere is no need. I will go back to bed, anda"a aYes, Iam leaving.a aWhere are you going?a aI donat know.a He didnat spare her a glance as he picked up his stockings and shoes. aAnd donat ask when Iall return. I donat know that, either.a aBut why?a Lottie took a halting step toward him. aNick, please stay and tell mea"a He shot her a warning glance, his eyes bright with the ferocity of a wounded animal. aI told you to get out.a Feeling the blood drain from her face, Lottie nodded and went to the door. Pausing at the threshold, she spoke without a backward glance. aIam sorry.a He made no reply.
Lottie bit the insides of her lips, d.a.m.ning herself as she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. She left swiftly, retreating to her room with the shreds of her dignity.
Nick did not return all the next day. Anxious and bewildered, Lottie tried to find ways to occupy herself. However, no distraction proved sufficient to stop her from worrying. She took a long walk with a footman in tow, attended to needlework, read, and helped Mrs. Trench make tallow candles.
The housekeeper and servants were quietly deferential to Lottie. Predictably, not one word was mentioned about the previous night, although they were all certainly aware that some disturbance had taken place. Servants knew everything, but none of them would ever admit to knowledge of the intimate details of their masteras life.
Wondering where her husband had gone, Lottie feared that perhaps he had done something reckless. She consoled herself that he was quite good at taking care of himself, but that did not ease her distress. He had been so very upset, and she suspected that his anger had stemmed from the fear that he might have hurt her.
However, she was his wife, and she deserved better than to be abandoned with no explanation. The day was relentlessly long, and Lottie was relieved when evening finally approached. After dining alone, she took a long bath, donned a fresh white nightrail, and read from a stack of periodicals until she finally felt able to sleep. Exhausted by the endless circling of her thoughts and the tedium of the past hours, she sank into deep slumber.
Long before morning, she was roused from the thick mist of sleep by the realization that the weight of the blankets had been drawn from her. Stirring, she became aware of a solid presence behind her, the mattress dipping slightly. Nick, she thought in drowsy relief, yawning as she turned toward him. The room was so dark that she could not quite distinguish him. The familiar warmth of his hands pressed her back to the bed, one large palm resting gently on the center of her chestaand then he drew her wrists over her head.
Lottie murmured in surprise, awakening fully as she felt him loop something around each wrist. Before she realized what was happening, the bonds were secured to the headboard, stretching her tautly beneath him. Her breath stopped in amazement. Nick moved over her, crouching like a cat, his breath coming in rough surges. He touched her body over the cotton veil of her gown, his fingers slipping beneath the curve of her breast, the indentation of her waist, the swell of her hip and thigh. His weight shifted, and his mouth sought her breast, wetting the gown, licking the rising peak of her nipple. He was naked, the scent and heat of warm male skin surrounding her.
Dazedly Lottie realized that he wanted to take her like this, with her hands fastened over her head. The idea made her fearful. She did not like being restrained in any way. But at the same time she understood what he wantedaher helplessness, her absolute trustathe knowledge that he could do anything he wanted to her without restrictions. He rolled her distended nipple against his tongue, excited the tight peak with long, dragging licks, and sucked hard through the wet cotton until she gasped. She squirmed in a mute plea for him to remove her gown, but he only slid farther down her body, his muscular arms braced on either side of her.
Curling her thumb and forefinger over one of the bonds that fastened her wrists, Lottie discovered that Nick had used her silk stockings. The light tension on her arms seemed to intensify her response to him, sensation racing through her in electric charges.
His mouth was at her stomach, his breath burning through the delicate gown. He nibbled at her body, his caresses languid, while the pace of his breathing betrayed his excitement. He made a s.p.a.ce between her thighs, pushing them apart with his hands. His mouth rooted gently between her legs, against the cotton fabric. Lottie strained toward him, her fingers opening and closing helplessly, her heels digging hard into the mattress. He played with her leisurely, then rose again to find her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, kissing and fondling her through the clinging nightrail until she thought she would go mad if he didnat remove it. Every inch of her skin was hot and oversensitive, the fine fabric seeming to chafe her unbearably.
aNick,a she said frantically, amy gown, take if off, please take itaa He hushed her with his fingers, resting two of them lightly against her lips. When she quieted, his thumb brushed over the curve of her cheek in a whisper-soft caress. Reaching for the hem of the gown, he pulled it upward, and she sobbed with grat.i.tude. Her legs twitched as they were exposed to the cool air, and her wrists tugged at the silken bonds as she writhed to help him. The cotton was raised over her chest, catching slightly at the stiff tips of her nipples.
Nickas hand slid carefully over her stomach, traveling to the tender flesh of her inner thighs. His fingertip stroked through the curly hair, found the welling moisture, and brushed softly against the smoldering, delicate flesh. Her legs spread, her body throbbing with antic.i.p.ation. She gave a pleading sob as his hand left her. The tip of his middle finger traced the sensitive edge of her upper lip. His finger was damp with the salty elixir of her own body, leaving the fragrance wherever he touched. Suddenly her nostrils were filled with the scent of her own arousal, filling her lungs with every breath.
Slowly Nick turned her to her side, his hand running over her arms to check their tension. His body settled behind hers, his mouth caressing the back of her neck. Lottie strained backward, her bottom pressing into his turgid shaft. She wanted to touch hil, to twist around and stroke the coa.r.s.e, thick hair on his chest, and then to grasp the hard weight of his s.e.x and let the silken barrel of it push through the circle of her fingers. But her position made movement impossible, and her only choice was to wait helplessly for his pleasure.
He hooked one arm beneath her top leg, lifting it slightly, and she felt the swollen tip of his s.e.x nudge inside her. He entered her only an inch, teasing her, withholding the full possession she craved. Lottie trembled violently, pleading with wordless gasps as he kissed the back of her neck. With the head of his shaft lodged just inside her entrance, his hand wandered over heraan exquisite tug at her nipple, a circling stroke of her navel. Gradually his caresses became more purposeful, his gentle, clever fingers delving into the thicket of curls.
Sweating, moaning, Lottie undulated against his sweetly provoking fingertips. She felt his shaft slide all the way inside her, filling her completely, and she cried out sharply, her body shaken with tremors of delight.
Nick waited until she quieted. He began to pump inside her, his movements steady and deliberate, flooding her with pleasure. She breathed in openmouthed sighs, her wrists pulling hard at the silk loops as she climaxed again with a long, shuddering moan. He thrust harder then, his loins meeting hers in delicious impacts, his breath rushing through his clenched teeth. The bed shook from his movements. Lottie felt at once vulnerable and strong, possessing him as surely as he did her, with her heart beating against his hand, and her flesh surrounding his. He tensed inside her, his organ jerking and pulsing, his lips parting as he gasped against her neck.
For a long time she lay against his large, hard body, giving a soft moan when he released her wrists. He rubbed them gently, and then his hand came down to cup her wet s.e.x. His breathing slowed, and at the thought that he was drifting to sleep beside her, Lottie quivered in longing. Suddenly nothing was more desirable in the world than to have him stay in her bed for an entire night. But he rose eventually, leaning to kiss her breast, his tongue swirling around the tender peak.
As Nick left the bed, Lottie bit her lip to keep from asking him to stay, knowing that he would only deny her as always. The door closed, leaving her in solitude. And although her body was sated and weary and her flesh tingled pleasantly, she felt tears welling behind her eyelids. She felt sorrowanot for herself, but for him. And longingathe dangerous need to comfort him, even though he would bitterly resent her for doing so. And last of all, a deep tenderness for a man she barely knewa"a man who needed to be rescued far worse than she ever had.
The following morning a parcel arrived from Sir Ross, containing a sheaf of doc.u.ments bearing elaborate seals and an invitation to a ball to be held in one weekas time. As Lottie entered the dining room, she saw Nick sitting alone at the table, a half-finished breakfast plate before him. His gaze lifted from the thick sheet of parchment in his hand, his eyes darkening as he saw her. He rose to his feet, staring at her without blinking.
Lottie felt a brilliant tide of red sweep over her face. On the mornings after an unusually pa.s.sionate evening, Nick usually teased her, or smiled as he made some commonplace remark to ease her discomfort. Today, however, his face was taut and his eyes were bleak. Something had changed between thema"the ease of their former interactions was gone.
Awkwardly she gestured to the paper in his hand. aIt has arrived?a There was no need to clarify what aita was.
Nick nodded briefly, his gaze returning to the summons.
Striving to maintain an appearance of normalcy, Lottie went to the sideboard and served herself from the covered dishes. Nick helped her into the chair beside him and resumed his seat. He regarded the remains of his breakfast with unusual concentration, while a maid came to set a cup of steaming tea before Lottie.
They were both silent until the maid left the room.
aThe ball will be given next Sat.u.r.day,a Nick said brusquely, not looking at her. aWill you have an appropriate gown by then?a aYes. Iave already been fitted for a ballgown, and there were only a few minor alterations to be made.a aGood.a aAre you angry?a Lottie asked.
He picked up his knife and regarded it moodily, sc.r.a.ping the tip of the blade against the calloused pad of his thumb. aIam beginning to feel oddly resigned to the situation. Now the news is leaking from the offices of the Crown and the Lord Chancellor. Itas all been set in motion, and there is nothing anyone could do to stop it now. Sir Ross will introduce us at the ball as Lord and Lady Sydneyaand from then on, Nick Gentry will be dead.a Lottie stared at him intently, struck by his odd phrasing. aYou mean the name will no longer be used,a she said. aYou, as Lord Sydney, will be very much alive. Shall I begin to call you John in private?a A scowl pulled at his features, and he set the knife down. aNo. Iall be Sydney to the rest of the world, but in my own home Iall answer to the name thatI choose.a aVery wellaNick.a Lottie stirred a generous lump of sugar into her tea and sipped the hot, sweet liquid. aThe name has served you well for many years, hasnat it? I daresay youave given it far more renown than the original Gentry ever would have.a Her idle remark earned a peculiar glance from him, somehow rebuking and beseeching at the same time. A sudden realization flashed through her minda"the real Nick Gentry, the boy who had died of cholera aboard the prison hulk, was at the heart of the secret that tormented her husband. Lottie stared absently into her tea, striving to keep her tone casual as she asked, aWhat was he like? You havenat yet told me.a aHe was an orphan, whose mother was hanged for thievery. He lived in the streets for most of his life, starting as a pudding shammer and eventually acquiring his own gang of ten.a aPudding shammer,a Lottie repeated, puzzled.
aStealing food to survive. Thatas the lowest of the low, except for beggars. But Gentry learned fast, and he became a proficient thief. Finally he was caught robbing a house, and he was sentenced to the prison hulk.a aAnd then you became friends,a Lottie prompted.
Nickas expression became distant as long-buried memories recalled him to the past. aHe was strong, shrewdawith sharp instincts from living so long in the streets. He told me things I needed to know to stay alive in the hulkaprotected me sometimesaa aProtected you from what?a Lottie whispered. aThe guards?a Nick jerked out of his trance, blinking the remoteness from his eyes. He glanced down at his hand, which was gripping the knife handle too tightly. Carefully he set the gleaming object on the table and pushed his chair back.
aIam going out for a while,a he said, his voice stripped of all nuance. aI expect I will see you at dinner this evening.a Lottie responded in the same carefully neutral tone. aVery well. Have a pleasant day.a During the week that ensued, the days and nights were dizzying in their contrast. Lottieas daytime hours were occupied with errands and small practical matters. She was never quite certain when she would see Nick, for he came and went at will. At supper they would discuss meetings that head had with investment partners and bankers, or his occasional visits to Bow Street, as Sir Grant occasionally consulted with him on matters pertaining to past cases. In the daytime, Lottieas interactions with Nick were cordial, the conversation pleasant and yet slightly impersonal.
The nights, however, were a far different story. Nick made love to her with an almost desperate intensity. He did things that shocked her, leaving no part of her body untouched in his pa.s.sion. At times their lovemaking was urgent and primitive, while other times it was languid and slow, with both of them reluctant to let it end. There were also unexpected moments of humor, as Nick played with her, teased her, and coaxed her to try positions so undignified that she dissolved into mortified giggles.
No matter what enjoyment the nights held, however, each day brought them closer to the time when Sir Ross would make the announcement that would change the course of their lives. Lottie knew that her husband dreaded the ball, and that the months afterward would be quite difficult as he tried to adjust to his new circ.u.mstances. She was certain, however, that she could be of some help to him. When she had entered into the marriage, she had never suspected that he might need her in any way, nor had she thought that she would take any satisfaction in helping him. And yet, she felt very much like a helpmateaa partneraand sometimes, for just a moment or two, a wife.
As the night of the ball finally arrived, Lottie was thankful that shead accepted Sophiaas advice at the dressmakeras. Sophia had helped her choose styles that were youthful but ladylike, in soft colors that flattered her immensely. The gown Lottie had decided to wear tonight was a pale blue satin overlaid with white tulle, with a daring scooped neckline that bared the tops of her shoulders. Lottie stood in the center of the bedroom while Mrs. Trench and Harriet pulled the billowing gown over her head and helped guide her arms through the puffed sleeves of stiffened satin. It was a gown as beautifula"no, more beautifula"than any she had seen during the parties in Hampshire. Thinking of the ball she was about to attend, and Nickas reaction when he saw her, Lottie was nearly giddy with excitement.
Her light-headedness was no doubt encouraged by the fact that her corset was laced with unusual tightness, to enable Mrs. Trench to fasten the close-fitting gown. Wincing in the confinement of stays and laces, Lottie stared into the looking gla.s.s as the two women adjusted the ballgown. The transparent white tulle overslip was embroidered with sprays of white silk roses. White satin shoes, long kid gloves, and an embroidered gauze scarf were the final touches, making Lottie feel like a princess. The only flaw was her stick-straight hair, which refused to hold a curl no matter how hot the tongs were. After several fruitless attempts to create a pinned-up ma.s.s of ringlets, Lottie opted for a simple braided coil atop her head, encircled with fluffy white roses.
When Harriet and Mrs. Trench stood back to view the final results of their labors, Lottie laughed and did a quick turn, making the blue skirts whirl beneath the floating white tulle.
aYou look beautiful, my lady,a Mrs. Trench commented with obvious pleasure.
Pausing in mid-whirl, Lottie stared at her with a wondering smile. As Nick had not brought himself to make any kind of announcement to the servants about reclaiming his family name and t.i.tle, it had been left to Lottie to tell them about their masteras n.o.ble origins. After their initial amazement had faded, the servants had seemed more than a little pleased by the turn of events. If they were to become servants of a peeras household, their own status in the world would be greatly enhanced.
aThank you, Mrs. Trench,a Lottie replied. aAs always, you have been invaluable this evening. We couldnat manage without you, especially in the days to come.a aYes, my lady.a The housekeeper wore an expression of frank antic.i.p.ation. As they had previously discussed, a brand-new household would have to be established in Worcestershire, with at least thirty servants to start with. Mrs. Trench would be largely responsible for selecting and hiring the new staff.