Chapter Thirteen #2
“Lord, yes,” agreed Rossiter, embarrassed. “I do beg your pardon. And thank you for your hospitality. What Naomi must think of me, I dare not guess. I was to have taken her back to the ball.”
Falcon scowled at him. “I took her. And if there is one thing I abominate, ’tis being obliged to get up and put on ball dress after I am settled into my bed!” He turned on Morris, who had uttered a shout of laughter. “How typical that you would find that amusing.”
“Well, I do,” admitted Morris gleefully. “Does my heart good to see you put out. Blest if ever I saw such a quarrelsome fellow. I vow were you alone on a desert island, Falcon, you’d fight yourself!”
“How fortunate that in the meantime I’ve Rossiter to fight. And then”—Falcon’s smile was unpleasant—“you. To which end, Morris, the sooner we sort out these inchoate matters—”
“In—what?” echoed Morris, curious.
Falcon groaned. “In-choate, you clod! Would you wish that I spell it?”
“No I would not! Never use such jawbreakers. Damme, Falcon, I don’t hold nothing ’gainst you because of your face, but you might make an effort at least to speak the language! ‘Inchoate,’ indeed! If ever I heard such a cockaleery word! And speaking of cockaleery, that dressing gown…”
Grinning, Rossiter slipped into the hall. He noted absently that it was truly a splendid house, beautifully appointed, but he was more aware that his time was very limited.
A lackey eyed him woodenly. Rossiter said he had a message for Lady Lutonville, and asked for her whereabouts. The lackey conducted him to a large dining room with doors opening to the terrace.
Naomi was busied with her sketchbook in a little summer house at the far side of the garden.
Her great skirts billowed about her, and sunbeams slanted through the trellised roof to paint a sheen on her powdered curls.
It was a charming picture, and having crossed the lawn Rossiter paused with one foot on the step, to commit it to memory.
Still slightly breathless from her scramble to set this scene, Naomi glanced up, convincingly surprised, only to become even more breathless.
Why must his dark hair curl so charmingly?
Why must that wistful look in the deeply lashed grey eyes wreak such havoc with her pulses?
Why was it so difficult to summon the anger and resentment she should feel for him?
He moved nearer and stood looking down at her.
“I hope you are recovered,” she said coolly. “I should have realized last night that you were close to exhaustion, and—”
“Stop it,” he interrupted, his voice stern. “We’ve more important things to say to each other.”
Naomi stood. “We have nothing to say to each other, unless ’tis—”
She was seized in hands of steel and wrenched to him.
With a gasp, she tried to break free, but he jerked her closer and bent his head.
His lips found hers, hard and bruisingly.
Long years of yearning went into that kiss.
Fighting him, struggling, furious, Naomi was unable to break free.
He was too strong, and her silly heart was thundering so madly that her mind spun.
A wave of ecstasy drowned indignation, propriety, caution, and brought a dizzying need to respond.
She seemed to melt against him. Her hands crept up to his shoulders, then slid around his neck, and she was kissing him back with a passion that left her breathless, so that when he at last released her she lay limp and spent in his embrace and hid her heated face against his cravat.
“Oh, Lud!” she gasped feebly. “I fancy everyone in the house saw that.”
He smiled. “Good. Beloved,” he lifted one of her clutching little hands to his lips, “do you not see that we cannot fight the inevitable? You always were meant to be mine. And I always will adore—”
“You forget,” she whispered, striving to be sensible, while her every nerve quivered with love and desire for this ruthless man whose arm held her so wonderfully tight.
“My Holland family?” He sighed. “I should have told you—”
“No. No—pray do not.” She found the strength somehow to pull back and stand erect. “It is no use, Gideon.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I am a rake and a libertine. You are a wanton. But I love you, and you love me. No, never deny it. Just now—”
“That was a moment of weakness.” She bit her lip. “We are farther apart than ever, for now, to add to all else, you suspect my father of heaven knows what infamy. And he has already forbidden me to see you.”
“As has mine,” he said quietly, and nodded as her startled gaze shot to his face. “Sir Mark feels that your sire turned his back when most he was needed.”
Her eyes fell. She said sadly, “So what hope is there for us? We must say goodbye and—”
“When I die, perhaps,” he interposed, seizing her hand again. “What we must do now, my dearest girl, is come at the root of this business. Likely we will find your papa had nought to do with any of it, and—”
“You are too generous,” she said, angry again. “What of your papa and the charges brought ’gainst him, not by vague and unfounded suspicions, but by the government and the—”
“So here you are, Gideon.” Majestic in a fine coat of brown velvet embellished with gold braid, Sir Mark had come up unnoticed, and his strident voice cut off Naomi’s words.
She jumped and turned very red.
Gideon swung around to meet his father’s irate glare. “Good morning, sir. You are early abroad.”
“Aye! Searching for you! While you allowed yourself to be captivated into remaining here, did it never occur to you that your brother, your sister, and I might be anxious for your sake?”
“Your pardon, Sir Mark, but I did not captivate Gideon into remaining here,” said Naomi, irked. “He was completely exhausted by the time we arrived last night, and quite unable to—”
“Well, that is a relief, at least,” declared another voice.
The Earl of Collington paced gracefully across the damp grass, the picture of aristocratic elegance in a claret-coloured habit, a jewelled quizzing glass swinging from one white hand, and disdain clearly written on his handsome features.
“I think you must have forgot, my lady, but I gave you quite explicit instructions with regard to your future—ah, associations.”
Before Naomi could respond, Sir Mark snarled, “An your instructions had to do with my son, Collington, they were redundant. I have long since ordered Gideon to keep away from your daughter.”
The earl’s quizzing glass was raised. Through it, he surveyed first a rebellious beauty, then an icy-eyed young soldier. He smiled faintly. “The captain does not appear to take orders very well. Come, my lady. Your visit here is at an end.”
Gideon said sharply, “My lord, ’tis only fair to warn you—”
“No!” cried Naomi, afraid of what he might say.
Falcon marched across the lawn. He looked dashing, although his dark face was murderous. “My lord … Sir Mark…” His bow was extravagant. “My father will be shattered to have been absent on so momentous an occasion. I collect you were unaware he is presently in Sussex.”
Sir Mark had the grace to flush before that cynicism.
“How unfortunate,” murmured the earl.
“Most unfortunate.” Falcon added nastily, “Unless ’twas Rossiter you came to find? Connected with … a meeting, perchance?”
“A damned good notion,” growled Sir Mark, scowling at Collington.
Gideon murmured, “Or a missing chess piece?”
Naomi gave a gasp. Falcon looked puzzled. Sir Mark swore under his breath.
Collington drawled, “Fascinating as is this conversation, alas, I cannot linger. Your servant, messieurs. If you please, Naomi…?”
Keeping her eyes downcast, she put her hand on his arm and he led her away.
* * *
“I tell you,” said Gideon earnestly, “that blasted chess piece is bound up in it somehow! I wish to God I knew how!” Clinging to the strap as the coach raced through the late morning, he waited for a response and, receiving none, turned to his friend.
Morris leaned back against the squabs, smiling vacantly at the postilion’s back.
“Hey!” said Gideon.
Sighing, Morris murmured, “M’father will adore her. So will the family.”
“Did you hear one word I said, you star-crossed dolt?”
“Ain’t star-crossed! I’ve found the most wonderful girl ever created, and I intend to wed her. What has star-crossed to do with that?”
“Oh, nothing at all. Save perhaps that her brother swears to blow a hole through you, and if you instead blow another hole through him there is some slight possibility he would object to your marrying his sister. In either case you haven’t exactly won his esteem, Jamie.”
Blinking, Morris returned to reality. “Who are you to talk of winning esteem? If ever I heard of people living in glass houses and flinging stones! To judge from that scorching scold he dealt you, your honoured sire ain’t delighted with you, my Tulip.”
“No,” acknowledged Gideon rather grimly. “My apologies that you were present through it all. He’s really not such a bad old fellow. At least, I got you away.”
“So you did.” Morris looked around, frowning. “Away to where, might I ask? And what am I doing in this coach? I was reduced to blancmange after hearing Sir Mark comb you out, and you took advantage of it to kidnap me, damme if you didn’t!”
Gideon laughed. “You agreed to come, and I thought it very good of you. But an you wish to be put down…” He reached for the window.
“In this wilderness? What are you about, you villain? I’ll have no more of your minor wars, and so I tell you!”
“We’re coming into Canterbury, as you’d know did your eyes see aught but Miss Falcon. As to what I’m about—Jamie, I am in a fair way to being convinced that the chess piece Naomi lost is in some way connected with my sire’s troubles.”