Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
WHERE A FATHER AND DAUGHTER COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING—AND A LOVER MAKES A BLUNDER
Bella glanced at the grandfather clock standing guard in the foyer of Nigel’s terrace, knowing the confrontation was coming.
She smoothed her hand down her bodice, over her skirt and her hastily constructed chignon, acknowledging she looked a fright—but hoping it wasn’t a completely telling portrait.
As in, I’ve been rolling around in a squeaky bed for five hours with a notorious scoundrel, a man I love with everything in me.
Generous, handsome, loving—and adorably fearful of loving—Nigel Streeter.
Sleeping on his tummy in the bed upstairs, head pillowed sweetly on his arm.
He was exhausted, as they’d gone another round after a brief respite.
A position—Nigel behind her as they lay curled on the counterpane they’d deposited before the hearth—that had a chance to become a favorite.
Afterward, they’d spent an hour sitting by the fire, eating a random assortment of foodstuff he’d had available, moonlight drifting into the window to settle around them like mist.
Between kisses and laughter, shared confidences and easy silences, they’d fallen in love.
The most intimate evening of her life.
And sensual. Primal. Unbelievably, the second time was even better than the first. From behind, he’d been able to caress her while stroking and sucking on her neck and…
Bella was grinning when a violent series of knocks sounded on the front door. She took a tense, tight breath and crossed to the entrance. She’d been waiting for over an hour, and dawn was coloring the sky in a red-gold tide now spilling over Nigel’s new parquet floor.
Nerves were justified because her father could be intimidating in his fury.
He’d once ruthlessly ruled London’s rookery streets but was merely Papa to her. That had been his existence before her mother, Pippa, gave him more to focus upon than winning.
(Since he routinely lost battles with his wife.)
Indeed, Xander Macauley was standing on the portico when she opened the heavy oak door, rain pouring off the brim of his hat to splatter at their feet. She danced out of the way, vexing him more for some reason.
“May I come in?” he growled and ripped the beaver felt from his head.
The streaks of gray that had arrived two years ago blazed across his mahogany hair like lightning bolts.
Without waiting for an answer, he pushed past her and into the house.
She peeked outside, horrified to see Tobias Streeter gazing from the window of the brougham parked at the curb.
Although he was smiling.
“You brought his father?” she asked, her own temper firing.
“You bet your troublesome bottom I did, darling daughter. Raced straight to his place when Markham’s ludicrous aristo carnival went up in flames, after I was told by his son that Streeter, Jr. had ‘rescued you.’ Rescue from what ?
A trifling bit Dash and I took care of in less than a minute, once the enjoyment of watching men who can’t fight worth a damn dribbled away.
It’s true, I relished pitching that idiotic marquess in Markham’s pond more than I’ve enjoyed anything this Season.
But look at what that fading moment of fun has gotten us.
Toby and Hildy were smart enough to beg off, which I wish Pip had let me do because none of us need another bloody ball! ”
There was nothing junior about Nigel, Bella recalled with a smile .
Her amusement seemed to infuriate her father beyond measure. “Dammit, Bell, what is going on here?”
Silently, Bella imagined how her mother would handle this.
Pippa managed Xander so capably, he raced in loving circles trying to please her and always had. Appeal to the tender side he hides from everyone but his family, she heard her mother whisper.
Bella strolled to the staircase, her heart thudding in her chest. When she perched on the bottom step, her father joined her, his broad body curving around her.
His arm circled her shoulders and brought her close, much as Nigel’s had earlier.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she wiggled her damp slippers on the step. “I love him, Papa.”
“ Hell’s teeth ,” he whispered and dusted a kiss over the crown of her head.
“I guess this had to happen sometime. Life is moving faster than I can calculate, even as I try to halt the spin. Kit is in business with me, and Ryder is slowly discovering women. And then you, my heroic warrior. Your way, innit, to announce your future plans in a blaze of glory? Just like your mother, no sedate adventures for this Macauley. Both of my girls fight for what they want whether I like it or not.”
“What about Kit, Ryder, and Tate? Don’t they fight for what they want?”
He grunted. “Ah, my boys. They’ve been given , no fighting required.
They’ll likely find love in a dignified way, as they’ve taken so grandly to aristocratic life, their mother a duke’s sister and all that rubbish.
Proper young men, favorites of the Duchess Society.
I’m disappointed as hell while your mother is thrilled they’re not racing carriages down Bond.
Who would have thought the sons of a brute like me would be bleeding gentlemen?
” With a huff, he leaned to scrub off a mark on his boot.
“You’re the child I see myself in, which is terrifying since you’re a female. ”
“When I marry, there are grandchildren to think of,” she murmured into the drenched fabric of his coat.
“Children do quiet the soul. Grandchildren, I estimate, will be nirvana.” He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “I’m just not sure I’m ready.”
Bella laughed and captured his gaze. Gunmetal gray, like hers. “You know him, Papa. ”
He slumped against the stair. “I do. He’s my partner in the gaming hell, a very personal project to me before you were born, when I found I had other things to spend time on.
Hell, I’ve been guiding Nigel Streeter since he was a gangling lad about a topic or two that I now wish I hadn’t.
That is, I wouldn’t have gone into such detail if I knew he was going to choose you. ”
“I chose him , Papa. However, he’s finally coming around.”
“In spades, like your mother,” he whispered and yanked his hand through his hair, leaving it in adorable twists about his head.
“You’ll have to fight off an aggressive chit here and there, mind you.
Nigel’s popular despite the sulking. He had a rough entry into this world, and that makes a man harder to love.
Trust me on this. I know of what I speak.
There isn’t a pretty way to say it when a man starts his life in the gutter because it complicates everything, darling girl. ”
Bella paused to give the conversation time to settle.
She picked at a loose thread on her skirt, humming softly.
“Would you rather I decided on Lord Marcus Ambrose or that second son of the Earl of Timley who came calling last year? Except for the horrid mole on his chin, he was quite nice. Amenable to my independent nature, as I believe he called it. There’s always the Duchess Society as well, if I need to secure a husband who wasn’t born in a rookery.
” She tapped her slipper against his boot. “If that’s your issue.”
Macauley tossed her a side-glance filled with awe.
“Ah, you swindler. Pip couldn’t have cornered me any better.
I want you with some posh nob about as much as I’d enjoy another bloody feline in the house.
Your mother adopted two kittens last week, did I tell you?
Found a box in front of the workhouse when she was delivering supplies.
Underfoot every morning, along with the rest. Children, animals, and a cheerful wife are my curse, I suppose. ”
“So, you approve? Of Nigel?” Bella asked, needing this, needing him . Because he was the second most important man in her life.
“I love him, too,” Macauley whispered in a frayed tone she recognized meant he’d shared more than he wished to. He hugged her against his chest, his heart thumping against her cheek. “But you’re my little girl .”
The footsteps on the passageway above were light and made by bare feet.
Bella turned in horror, having been certain he’d sleep through this confrontation.
She’d left Nigel in a fatigued slumber in a bed they’d demolished with their erotic capers.
Her plan had been to calm her father, leave her lovely man a note, go home, and wait for him to come calling in a proper way.
As if this entire love affair had been his plan all along.
“Be nice,” Bella whispered, alarmed to envision keeping the two men she adored most from killing each other. They’d fought before, of course—all the men in the Leighton Cluster got into rows on a regular basis—but not real brawling.
Actual fisticuffs they saved for people outside the family.
Men her father called muttonheads.
Nigel was yawning when he hit the turn on the staircase above them, his hair disturbed by what could only be a woman’s hands, his shirt unbuttoned and open down the front.
His gaze was golden and glazed, part of his awareness still upstairs in their bed.
Thankfully, he’d tugged on his trousers but was without his boots.
He has lovely feet, she thought dreamily before the confusion began.
Nigel stumbled to a halt at the sight of them, his heel caught on the stair. “ Shite ,” he whispered in a low tone that nonetheless echoed down the hall.
“Indeed, lad, that about sums it up.” Xander patted the empty spot on the stair above. “Come and have a chat, won’t you? I ain’t set to bite,” he added in a tone that sounded like it was exactly what he wanted to do.