Chapter 1 #2
“Ah...” he said, his voice growing softer as he took a long sip of wine. “But my dear Miss Debrett, submission and the act of taming can be so very pleasant. I would be very glad to show you, if you like. I am rather experienced in such matters.”
This time, he could hear Cordelia suck in a harsh breath, and her cheeks reddened to the color of his wine.
“You are a rake of the highest order,” she snapped back at him in a whisper. “I should wonder you are spending this time with me when there is an entire ballroom of ladies to plunder.”
She blushed even deeper as he tutted. “What bold language from such an innocent young lady. Yes, I shall admit of my rakish behavior. What of it? There is hardly a man in this room who could not claim to be so.”
At that, Cordelia let out a harsh laugh. “My father was no rake. I can tell you that.”
Nicholas knew he could not tease her about that. Miss Debrett’s father had died when she was only fifteen, so Helen had once told him. And with both his parents gone, his mother at birth, and his father at eighteen, loathsome brute as he was, he knew it was no teasing matter.
“You are very lucky that you can think well of your father,” he said kindly, drawing her surprised gaze to him.
Their eyes met for a few brief moments before the song ended, and the couples parted, the orchestra priming their instruments for the next set.
The room filled once more with buzz and chatter as new pairings were made, and fresh couples filled the ballroom floor.
Nicholas’s gaze once more trailed to the young singer who was still watching him, this time with a wider smile, giving him a slight nod.
Cordelia huffed out a breath and then leant toward him slightly to say, “I see you cannot stop your flirtations even when you are in conversation with another!” He looked at her and she was glancing at the singer as well.
When she turned back to him, her eyes narrowed.
“I continue to be shocked, Your Grace, that you are to be considered the children’s godfather.
What an influence you would have on them! ”
“You are only jealous, my dear, for I am the godparent they like most.”
“Oh!” she said, a little too loudly, and she bit her lip. “You are incorrigible. You are like eating too much candy. It will make them sick! As for myself, I am interesting and educational. The children are usually so fond of my games.” She spoke as if she was reminding herself as well.
He knew this very well, indeed, but he couldn’t help but tease her further.
“Interesting and educational,” he repeated. “I shall be sure to have this set on your gravestone.”
“Well, we know what would be on yours. Rakish…stubble-chinned…man,” she said, flustered.
Chuckling, Nicholas shook his head. “I should have expected better from you, Miss Debrett. What with your quick wit and ready anger.”
“It seems with you, my anger readily boils to the surface.” She gave him a sickly-sweet smile.
He lowered his voice, and when he leaned closer to her, his lips brushed against the soft skin of her ear. To his delight, he saw a shiver run through her, but she did not look towards him, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
“For my gravestone, I was thinking something more like ‘irresistible, devilishly handsome, able to make a woman breathlessly scream his name.”
Pulling back, he watched with confident delight as Cordelia swallowed stiffly.
“They couldn’t possibly fit all that nonsense on a gravestone.”
Nicholas chuckled, and she took a step back from him, looking slightly breathless herself as she took a sip from her cup. He was amused at her attempt at distance, and he returned to the subject at hand.
“How about this?” Nicholas finished his wine and placed the glass on a nearby table.
“In the morning, when we wake up, we shall see who the twins prefer. It will be a competition. We shall see who they run to as soon as they come downstairs for breakfast. I assume you are staying here this evening?”
Cordelia nodded. “Yes, I did plan to, although I cannot think where Helen and David are. Helen would be horrified to miss her own ball on purpose. And a party for her children no less!”
Something niggled at the back of Nicholas’s mind, something like fear, but he pushed it aside. He was being silly. There was an explanation; he was certain of it.
“They will be along shortly, I am sure,” he comforted Cordelia. “Now, what of our competition?”
She took another sip of her punch and eyed him with a narrow gaze. “You wish for us to compete for their affections by seeing which one they run to in the morning? You who have never held them in your life?”
Nicholas’s face screwed up in disgust. “They are always…leaking in some fashion.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes again. “You are incorrigible! So, what will we do then if I win or if you win?”
“Well,” he replied, stepping a little closer watching as her eyes widened a bit. It was soon time to bring Miss Cordelia Debrett to heel, and he was very much interested in doing so. “If I win, which I will, then you will have to do anything I say.”
She put her hands on her hips. “And if I win? Which I will?” she asked haughtily, the color in her cheeks rising again.
He grinned, thinking just how red her cheeks would become if he made any sort of advance. “You will not. But if you win, I will do anything you say. I will be yours for the taking, and you may take your pleasure.” He winked, and to his satisfaction, her cheeks turned a bright, cherry red.
Her mouth opened to reply, but the loud clang of the ballroom doors being wrenched open stopped her, and they both turned at the sound of the Duke of Wexford, David’s father, hurrying into the center of the ballroom.
The music slowed to a stop and gasps filled the crowd as the lofty, dark-haired man with a furrowed brow stood in the center.
Nicholas wanted to roll his eyes. The man was a terror and had been ever since their younger days, making David’s and then Helen’s life a misery.
Nicholas hated him with every fiber of his being, but while Nicholas would not put it past the duke to steal such attention at his own grandchildren’s birthday celebration, Nicholas could tell that something was amiss.
The crowd soon quieted, and all eyes turned to the duke. He cleared his throat, his face red, and when he spoke, his voice was not quite steady.
“Dear guests, I must inform you that…there has been a terrible accident. I’m afraid that my son and his wife will not be joining us this evening. It seems that their carriage was found in the river on their way here. They are…gone.”
A sharp gasp rose from everyone’s lips. He stood still as a stone, letting the news wrap around his mind. To his surprise and comfort, Cordelia grasped his arm, and he felt his heart turn cold at the sight of pure shock and terror on her face.
Gone.