Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
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After the incident in the forest, Sadie and Nicholas ate a delayed luncheon and returned to the kitchen.
Mixing up the butter, sugar, milk, and a hint of vanilla into a creamy frosting and spreading it over the cake didn’t take long enough.
Sadie no longer wanted the day and her time with Nicholas to end.
“We should add decorations,” he suggested once they’d covered the entire cake in a nearly uniform layer of white buttercream.
“Decorations?” Sadie asked, setting down the spatula she had used to smooth out the frosting.
“You know, designs in different colors, roses and such. Like the cakes sold at the fancy bakeries.”
It was an excuse to continue their time together. “An excellent idea,” Sadie agreed.
The cake did not look like those sold in professional bakeries when they finished.
Sadie’s skill at brewing transferred reasonably well to baking, but not to making her creations look nice.
Nicholas turned out to be quite talented at drawing designs with icing—unsurprising given his skill at carving tiny runes into stones—but no matter how hard they tried, neither could form a rose.
Perhaps if they had let Mrs. Benson show them the technique, that might have changed things, but attempting to figure it out on their own stretched out the activity even longer.
With Nicholas’s power once more infusing her charm, no thoughts—unpleasant or distractingly pleasant—invaded Sadie’s awareness, and she was able to enjoy herself fully. He didn’t push for more information on her magic. He didn’t tell her that if she simply trusted him, he’d give her everything.
But he showed her.
He showed her what being with him without the pressure of her secrets could be like. Gentle teasing, heated looks, and—worst of all—a feeling of being accepted for exactly who she was.
By the time Sadie retired for the night—in Nicholas’s room—she had more or less forgotten about the way Abigail’s awful thoughts had overwhelmed her in the forest. It was only when Sadie riffled through the bowl of stones on a table in the bedroom, trying to figure out why she had seen Nicholas placing a dried pea in the bottom in his thoughts earlier, that she remembered the incident with Abigail.
Looking at the stones, many with glyphs already carved on them, she realized how well Nicholas understood his magic.
He didn’t just engrave charms with the same glyphs people had used for generations; he pieced together runes and created his own.
And when he looked at the glyph on her amulet, he worried about what it was doing to her.
She couldn’t dismiss his worries; the glyph had come from a forbidden grimoire, after all.
But she also couldn’t ignore the fact that if he hadn’t activated it earlier that day, she might have started gibbering from the thoughts that had pounded at her.
She had never experienced anything like it. Yes, the thoughts she had picked up in the foyer the other day had been of the same ilk, but this had felt like an attack. Could Abigail also be a telepath projecting her thoughts?
It didn’t make sense. If she were a telepath, she wouldn’t go around screaming her hatred in people’s minds. Though hatred was too tame a word for what Sadie had heard.
Finding the pea and fishing it out of the bowl, Sadie admitted that perhaps the problem was simply that Abigail was that cruel of a person.
Sadie had dealt with meanness plenty in her life, but never anything quite so self-centered and vengeful.
Abigail wasn’t hurt that Nicholas had spurned her attempts at seduction; she was outraged. And seeing him with Sadie?
She shuddered. No matter how much she tried not to judge people for their private thoughts, thoughts she knew full well could sound far more extreme than a person would ever behave, Sadie would be watching herself around Abigail in the future.
In fact, she’d make it a point to retrieve the charm Nicholas had given her in the morning, which she hadn’t been carrying since that day.
It would do her no good tucked under the pillow in her guest room, and for the first time she thought she might actually benefit from the magical protection.
But that was a task for the next day. Tonight, Sadie would absorb all the hidden glimpses of Nicholas she could from his room. Starting with the collection of dried peas carefully tucked into unlikely places that made no sense.
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“So, Sadie,” Madeleine asked over breakfast the next morning, the curve of her lips just a little too sly. “Did you notice anything of interest while you were in Nicky’s rooms last night?”
The peas must have actually been some ploy of the dowager’s. It explained why each woman had a private breakfast with the Huxleys the morning after sleeping in Nicholas’s room. Madeleine wanted to ask questions without giving anything away to the women who hadn’t yet had their turn.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Sadie reached into her pocket and pulled out the five peas she had gathered.
Placing them on the table, she looked at Nicholas.
“I can almost understand how one ended up on the bedside table. You must’ve been sitting up in bed having a midnight snack, and one fell.
Then, in all the days since, no one noticed it right there, even as it dried out. ”
She thought the look he sent her way was meant to convey that he was not amused, but she could see his lip twitching.
Sadie shrugged. “In fact, I can explain most of these away. You simply have a passion for eating peas in odd places and are a bit of a slob.” She tapped one pea with her index finger, then slid it away from the rest. “But what, in the name of all the spirits, were you doing to end up with a pea under the mattress, Nicholas? Honestly, I could barely sleep last night, trying to figure it out.”
He stopped trying to hold back his grin, his lips curving up as he leaned forward. His voice was low, too quiet for Madeleine to hear. “Do you want me to show you?”
Sadie’s cheeks grew warm. How did he make talking about placing a pea under his mattress sound suggestive?
Well, she knew how. He opened his mouth and spoke in that private tone, and her mind turned banalities into salacity.
Not that Nicholas talking about showing her anything with his bed was a banality.
Pretending her cheeks weren’t as red as his hair—and hating that she probably looked flustered because she blushed too easily—Sadie lowered her own voice.
She wasn’t trying to keep the conversation private from Madeleine; she had completely forgotten his mother was right there.
The moment simply deserved the hushed tones of intimacy. “I don’t think you’d dare.”
“Just say the word, Sadie.”
She gulped, realizing she had lost herself in the moment and forgotten all her reasons not to flirt with the baron. She should have known not to challenge him, for he was already prepared to accept that gauntlet.
Sadie straightened her spine and turned to Madeleine, who sat eating her porridge as if her son and the guest she had invited to convince him to marry any of the true ladies weren’t whispering right in front of her.
“Your son is a bit of a magpie, Madeleine, collecting bits of everything in his room,” she blurted, needing to escape the conversation.
She was the one who wouldn’t dare.
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Nicholas left breakfast hopeful and frustrated in equal measure. Sadie wanted him, he knew that much, and he burned with desire for her. But she wouldn’t take that final step.
At this point, his earlier determination not to cross that line with her until she trusted him didn’t matter.
They had already gone too far. And yet, it wasn’t even close to far enough.
Sadie was the one holding back now. She knew as well as he did that there would be no pretending that they could treat a liaison as purely physical.
Nicholas had accepted it. He wanted it.
But Sadie was still afraid, and he couldn’t allay her fears until she shared them.
He counseled himself to be patient. He’d made more progress yesterday by not pushing than he had in the two weeks prior. He couldn’t force Sadie to trust him, only show her that he’d honor that trust.
But showing required time together, and he still had two more ladies to spend the day with and no clue what stunt his mother would pull next.
He made his way to the lavender sitting room and tried not to scowl, lest Beatrice think it directed at her. Was there any chance she’d choose an activity that might distract him from his thoughts of Sadie?
He snorted softly. Of course not. Beatrice could decide they would spend the day playing every cocky schoolboy’s favorite knife game, and Nicholas would end up stabbing every finger and still not be able to stop thinking about Sadie.
He should probably apologize for his distraction right at the beginning, though he wasn’t sure Beatrice would care.
He entered the sitting room and found the lady in question wasn’t even there. He took a seat and vowed to use the time until she arrived to get his head straight, though he knew it to be an impossible task.
Beatrice walked into the sitting room five minutes past the hour and closed the door behind her.
Nicholas had risen to his feet the instant she walked in, and now he gestured toward the chairs. Beatrice shook her head. “I’ll keep this short.”
Not certain where this conversation was going, Nicholas remained standing and simply nodded.
“I accepted your mother’s invitation because I believed there was a possibility we would suit. Not in a romantic sense, but a practical arrangement benefiting us both was not outside of the realm of possibility. I would let you live your life, and, I believe, you would let me live mine.”
Nicholas opened his mouth, but didn’t have to form a response because Beatrice held up a hand and continued talking.
“I’m only telling you this now so that you understand what my expectations were and were not and to assure you that I will not stand in your way now that you have clearly found a woman you want to build a life with, not just one who will satisfy your mother’s desire to marry you off. ”
She looked at him expectantly, and he fumbled for a response. “Thank you for your honesty.” He hesitated, then decided he might as well ask. “Are my feelings for Sadie that obvious?”
It wasn’t that he wanted to hide what he felt, but he hadn’t realized he’d given himself away that clearly among others.
Beatrice shrugged. “I doubt Helen has paid attention enough to notice, and Jane is too starry-eyed when she looks at you to pick up that the polite kindness you show her is different from how you treat Sadie. But the rest of us have all seen it. I assume I don’t need to warn you to watch out for Abigail? ”
“No, though if you know anything specific about her plans, I would appreciate hearing them.”
“I do not, but I will pass along anything I may learn.” Beatrice inclined her head and turned toward the door.
“Wait.” Nicholas stopped her. “Today is your day to choose an activity.”
“My choice is to spend the day reading in the library. You may do whatever you wish.”
Nicholas smiled. “I think you are right that if circumstances were different, we might have suited.”
Beatrice was exactly what he had once hoped for in a wife. Someone peaceful, who wouldn’t get in his way. Better yet, she wanted the same sort of dispassionate arrangement.
Except that life no longer held any appeal.
She laughed. “No, I was completely wrong. You are a romantic, Lord Marstede. You always would have been disappointed with me.”
Beatrice left, and a few minutes later Nicholas made his own way out of the sitting room and toward his study, her assessment of his personality swirling through his thoughts.
He’d never considered himself a romantic.
He approached liaisons with practicality …
and, if he was honest with himself, had always been disappointed in the outcomes.
Nothing that happened with Sadie was a disappointment. There had been no sense of apathy in the moment after physical release, no wondering if the fleeting physical pleasure had been worth the hassle. Just breathing the same air as Sadie was a sensation to be treasured.
Well, damn, Nicholas thought, Beatrice is right, I am a romantic.
He settled behind his desk, grinning broadly.
Knowing that—accepting it—gave him an idea.
He didn’t need to seduce Sadie. Their physical attraction wasn’t in doubt.
But instead of trying to wear her down to trusting him, he realized that what he should be doing was wooing her.
Not just flirting and teasing, but romancing.
It was time to show her that he wanted forever.