Bargaining With a Rogue, page 11
Frances eyed her stepmother warily. As misfortune had touched the duke’s household, it appeared to bring Edgar Stone with it as well. There were many reasons why she didn’t like that man. One of them being that Frances had almost gotten betrothed to him. But over the years, the imbecile had given Nash several reasons not to like him. The man was a poor gambler, and a worse loser. He was a violent drunk, which in turn made him handle women poorly.
Nash poured some of the duke’s finest port in a glass and tossed it down. Helplessness swept over him. There must be something he could do to assist in the matter. Frances, her brother, and even her stepmother, appeared desolate. If Nash had only known the duke better, perhaps he’d be able to help the police with the investigation.
His gaze skimmed over Frances. Her maid had fixed Frances’ hair into a coil at the back of her head, but Nash imagined it the way it had been this morning. Although she wore a day dress, she appeared as though she’d just awoken from a long night’s rest. Her long hair wasn’t ratted, but it waved down her arms and back in a very seductive fashion. Usually, he didn’t see a woman’s hair like that unless he was bidding them farewell the next morning after an eventful evening of passion.
From across the room, her gaze lifted and met his. The police inspector who’d been asking her questions finally left her side. Nash walked toward her, keeping her gaze locked with his. She was still very lovely, although her eyes were red and puffy from crying. The overwhelming urge to enfold her in his arms came over him, once more. If they were the only two people in the room, he’d gladly take her in his arms and comfort her.
“Walk outside with me?” he asked when he reached her.
“Yes. I do need some fresh air.”
She hooked her hand around his elbow and he led her out of the drawing room, and outside. The sun had disappeared behind a dark cloud, and the wind had picked up. But Frances acted as though she didn’t mind. Nash enjoyed the refreshing breeze and the open space. If he would have stayed inside that room one more minute, he would have screamed.
Frances stopped, closed her eyes, and tilted her face upward. Her bosom rose and fell from her deep breaths. He could stare at her like this for hours without getting bored. She was simply...breathtaking.
“Oh, Nash. What are we to do?” She looked at him. “What if Father isn’t found?”
He took her hands into his loosely. “Try not to think that way.”
“How can I not? You had received a threatening note, and now this.” She paused, glancing toward the stable. “I believe it’s all connected some way.”
“Yes, it does seem rather planned, doesn’t it?”
She turned back to meet his stare. “Did you tell the police about it?”
“I did, and they seemed rather put off that I hadn’t reported it earlier.”
“Why hadn’t you?”
“Because I wanted to speak to your father first.” He squeezed her hands. “I knew he would know what we could do about it.”
Sighing, she stepped closer to him and rested her head on his chest. “I told the police about the suspicions I have with Edgar Stone and my stepmother.”
Curiosity rose inside of him. “What suspicions?”
Her body stiffened mere seconds before she looked up at him. “I didn’t tell you?’
“No.”
“I overheard Augusta speaking with her nephew. The whiney little bugger still wants to marry me, and Augusta promised she could sway my father’s thinking. Augusta told Edgar to do something that would impress me.” She huffed. “I don’t think the man is too intelligent, but would he take my horse and father as a way of impressing me? I don’t think so.”
Anger rose inside of him. How dare those two try to complicate Frances’ life? “I pray the police take what you told them seriously. Like you, I don’t think Edgar is smart enough to think of a plan like this, but the duchess may be that vindictive.”
“Yes, I’m quite certain Augusta is very intelligent and calculating. I’ve always felt that she manipulated herself into my father’s life.”
“Then I suggest you keep a close watch on her.” Nash caressed his knuckles along Frances’ cheek. “And I’ll keep an eye on Stone as much as I can.”
“Actually, I believe he’s staying with us, so I may be able to spy on them both.” She sighed again and cuddled against his palm. “We need to find my father. I don’t want my life to be a Cinderella tale with the mean stepmother.”
He chuckled. “But did Cinderella not marry a prince at the end of the story?”
“She did.”
“Then if your life turns out like that, you will have something to look forward to.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Nash, you aren’t being very humorous, you know.”
“I know. I’m just trying to make you smile...if even just a little.”
The corners of her mouth lifted gently, and her eyes didn’t appear so sad. “Thank you for being with me now, during this turmoil. You don’t know how much it relieves me to have you here.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Cotton dryness grew in his throat, and he tried to swallow it. His heartbeat quickened, and the urge to kiss her became strong. Yet was it proper? Especially now when she’d been through so much today?
“Nash?” she said in a whisper. “Have I told you how wonderful you are?”
The words slammed into his heart, making it grow by leaps and bounds. He’d never had a woman say such words and genuinely mean them. He suddenly didn’t care if anyone was watching. He was going to show Frances exactly how much those tender words meant to him.
In one swift movement, he pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. The second his lips touched hers, she inhaled sharply, and followed it with a heady sigh. Her soft body melted against him as she wound her arms around his neck.
Passion took over, enflaming his whole body. He really should take her someplace private for what he wanted to do right now, but he couldn’t stop kissing her long enough to do it. Never had he wanted a woman so much it made him weak in every way possible. And Heaven might send down a lightning bolt right now, because he just couldn’t wait until the wedding to make love to her.
“Precious,” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes?”
His hands moved over her back, and then down to caress her buttocks, pulling her against his hips. “Where can we go...to have some privacy?”
She elicited a low moan. “How about my bedchambers?”
Excitement built inside of him, knowing she wanted this as much as he did. “Will anyone see us going there?”
“I don’t...know,” she said in between kisses. “But if they do...then we’ll have a speedy marriage.”
Inwardly, he chuckled. He liked the way her mind worked.
Off in the distance, voices lifted in excitement. Nash didn’t want to break their passionate kiss to see what was going on, but when the voices became louder, both he and Frances pulled away at the same time.
Toward the front of the house a lone rider galloped toward the manor. Conrad, Augusta, and some servants ran toward the man on top a horse.
“Father!”
Frances’ cry startled Nash, and he jumped back. Frances darted toward her father, holding her dress up to help her run faster.
Breathing deeply and slowly, Nash tried to tame the desire still flowing through him like turbulent waters. There was no way he could greet the duke like this. Nash only hoped that Frances’ excitement for her father’s homecoming would override the passion that had been written on her face only moments ago.
FRANCES SAT CLOSELY beside her father on the sofa as he answered questions from the police. It pleased her to know he had noticed her horse missing after his morning ride, and that he’d gone after the animal. He hadn’t taken his favorite horse only because he’d just put the animal through a vigorous ride. Her father didn’t have any excuse to why he hadn’t alerted Oliver to what he was doing, only that he was concerned about Frances’ missing horse.
Sadly enough, he hadn’t found Pegasus.
Her heart ached for the animal who’d been her companion since she was in her tenth year. With any luck, the mare would eventually find its way back home.
She glanced around the room. Nash had gone home, and his absence was greatly noticed. By her, anyway. He had wanted to talk to her father about the threatening note, but for some reason, he decided now wasn’t the best time. She, too, wanted to find the person—or persons—responsible for trying to control their lives so that her father could put a stop to it.
Frances did as she promised Nash—she kept an eye on Augusta. The woman appeared to have been very distraught over the duke’s absence. Could the woman have been acting this whole time? Frances wouldn’t doubt it.
And Edgar, he had mysteriously disappeared once the duke returned home. Did Augusta not want her husband to know the idiotic nephew was staying with them? Well, Frances couldn’t wait to be the first one to tell her father of their uninvited guest.
The mid-meal had come and gone, and wearily, Frances climbed the stairs as she headed for her bedchamber. A small nap was required if she hoped to be able to make it through tonight’s events. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to dancing and trying to converse with other men. She wanted to be with Nash, and him alone. In private...to continue what they had started minutes before her father had returned home.
Although what she and Nash wanted to do was wrong on so many levels, at least it would speed up the marriage. And right now, that’s all she wanted. She hated this process of courting just to make everyone in society gossip about whether or not Nash would ask her father for her hand in marriage. Things were already settled, so why couldn’t they just get it over quickly?
She climbed to the second level of the manor, and as she turned the corner, came face-to-face with Edgar—her worst nightmare. He was the complete opposite of Nash. Edgar was in no way considered handsome, and he definitely wasn’t muscular. Edgar thought he had charm, but lacked it greatly. Perhaps that was why he required his auntie to help him secure a wife. Most women would be able to see right through Edgar’s character and know that he wasn’t the man they wanted in their lives.
Immediately, she fisted her hands and gritted her teeth as she silently wished him to disappear...forever.
“Oh, Lady Frances. The very person I was coming to find.” He pushed his fingers through his patch of wavy red hair.
“Well, I hope you’re not too disappointed that I’m on my way to my bedchamber to take a nap.”
“Actually, what I have to say will only take a moment. In fact, I shall walk with you to your room.”
She held up her hand, stopping him. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
The imbecile must have seen her hand up as some kind of intimate gesture, because he took it in his hands, stroking her arm gently. Irritation flowed through her and she yanked her hand away, slapping him in the process. How dare he take such liberties!
“Lord Stone! Contain yourself,” she hissed.
He shifted from one foot to the other. Edgar wasn’t a tall man, not like Nash, but he was a couple of inches taller than her.
“Forgive me, Lady Frances. My excuse is that your nearness does that to me, and I yearn to touch you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then might I suggest that you stay far away from me...starting this very moment, in fact.”
As she tried to step around him, he chuckled and grasped her elbow, stopping her.
“Oh, my lady. You are most humorous today.” His wide smile made the freckles stand out on his pale face.
“Humorous? I assure you, I’m far from humorous. I’ve had a trying morning with my father being gone, and my horse missing. Now I would very much like to rest in my room. So if you’ll please let me pass.” She glared at him.
He frowned. “Frances, I know we had gotten off to a bad start after we were first introduced—”
“Beg pardon, my lord, but I did not give you permission to use my name so personally.”
His bushy eyebrows lifted. “But we are practically family.”
“Actually, we aren’t, and we are never going to be, so I pray you get that notion out of your head quickly.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Lord Stone, I don’t like you, and there is nothing you or your aunt can do to change it. Please understand that now, because I don’t want to waste my breath explaining it again.”
Frances rushed passed him before he could stop her again. Hopefully, she was rude enough to him that he would get the hint. She didn’t have patience for him at all.
She entered her room and quickly slammed the door shut. Leaning against the thick piece of wood, she breathed slowly, trying to calm her temper. If that man didn’t leave her alone, she didn’t know what she’d do. Would her father understand her worries and dismiss Edgar from their home? Then again, Frances had heard Augusta tell Edgar that she could sway the duke to do anything.
“Augh!” Frances marched to her bed and threw herself on the mattress. She feared sleep would be impossible now.
She rolled to her side and stared out the window. A slight wind blew, disturbing the leaves on the large oak tree beside her window. The tree beckoned her to escape, just as it had done when she was a young girl. Not always the most obedient daughter, there were many times in her youth when she climbed out the window and saddled Pegasus and rode her mare at night. Riding was the only thing that calmed her spirit and relaxed her.
Frowning, she pulled a pillow against her chest. But she couldn’t climb out onto the tree and escape to the stable to fetch her horse now since her horse was missing. And where would she go? She definitely couldn’t stay here. Would Nash mind her coming to visit his sisters again? The idea tempted her, but she knew she’d not be in good spirits. Not with the upsetting day she’d had so far.
If only she could be with Nash, in private, just the two of them—that would relax her, she was certain. If only they could have finished what they started earlier before her father had returned. That would have certainly gotten them an earlier wedding, and most definitely, it would have gotten Edgar off her back.
She sighed and closed her eyes as her mind returned to that very passionate moment with Nash. Would she have done anything differently? Maybe she should have taken him up to her room right then. No, that wouldn’t have been wise since her father chose that moment to make his grand appearance.
A hard knock shook the door, and snapped Frances out of her memory. She turned her head toward the door, but didn’t move from her bed. “Who is it?”
“It’s Augusta, my dear.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to see that woman just as much as Frances hadn’t wanted to see the woman’s nephew earlier. “What do you want?”
“I’d like to talk.”
“Augusta,” Frances answered, hoping her voice didn’t sound as irritated as she felt, “I’m lying down. I’m tired.”
“Please, dear. Your father urged me to come talk to you.”
Frances hesitated. Dare she believe the woman? Augusta had used the excuse before and it had worked. Now Frances wondered if she should deny her stepmother’s request. Unfortunately, it boiled down to one thing. Did Frances have the patience to argue with the older woman?
Grumbling under her breath, Frances scooted off the bed so she could answer the door. She opened it, before turning back toward her bed, and flinging herself on the mattress. “Make it quick. I’m really tired, and I need to get rested before tonight’s events.”
“Oh, my poor dear.” Augusta rushed to the bed and stroked her hand over Frances’ hair. “Do you wish us to cancel our evening? I’m certain your father would rather stay home, as well. Lord Englewood won’t mind if we cancel on him, I’m certain of it.”
Cancel Nash? That was not an option. He was the only person who could calm her ire. He was the only person who understood the turmoil boiling through Frances. And...he was the only one who she felt safe with.
“No, Augusta.” She tried not to glare at the other woman. “I don’t want to cancel. I just want to sleep for an hour, mayhap two. I’ll feel rested after that.”
The older woman sighed heavily before sitting on the edge of Frances’ bed. Augusta swept an auburn lock of hair away from her forehead, patting it as though trying to keep it in place with her coiled hair.
It had always been difficult for Frances to think of this woman as her parent. The woman was so much younger than Frances’ father. The woman was much too young to know anything about parenting—in Frances’ opinion. Even her brother, Conrad, didn’t think of Augusta as a parent. The woman was much too self-centered.
“My dear, your father and I are worried about you. We both feel the stress of finding a husband has made you extremely irritable.”
Frances held in a surprised gasp. Was this woman jesting? Of course, the burden of finding a husband was making Frances hard to live with, but whose fault was that?
“Indeed?” Frances arched an eyebrow. “What made you come to this conclusion?”
Augusta motioned her head toward the hall. “I overheard the way you spoke to Edgar a few moments ago, and I must say, I’m very displeased that you are not more polite. He has taken a liking to you, and he has treated you with nothing but kindness. You could at least show him a little bit of kindness in return.”
It was difficult not to roll her eyes at her stepmother. Could the woman be that obtuse? “The truth is, Augusta,” Frances said between clenched teeth, “I don’t want that man in my home.”
A flash of anger crossed the older woman’s expression and darkened her eyes. “But it’s my home, too.”
“It’s been mine longer.”
Whether it was the stress of finding a husband, or the strain of everything that had happened today, Frances was exhausted from having to hold her tongue around her stepmother...a woman she would never trust or accept as her parent.
