Bargaining With a Rogue, page 17
FIFTEEN
Frances’ eyes were raw from crying, and although she hadn’t peered into a mirror lately, she would bet good money that they were also very red. She couldn’t sleep, but she didn’t want to stay awake, either. Her mind was full, and her heart continued to break. When would it finally be finished and lay crumbled in a heap inside her chest? All of this was too much to handle, but she didn’t have any other choice.
Once she’d reached her bedchambers last night—and after crying more—she thought about talking to her father. She didn’t know what to do. But she hesitated, because she didn’t know if Adam...Lord Calvin, wanted others to know his secret. Was he still a spy working for the Prince Regent? But she needed to tell someone if only just to get it off her chest.
The knock at her door startled her. She’d been pacing off and on all night long, and yet nobody had come to her room to check on her. Who could be coming to her room now? After last night’s party continued until the wee hours of the morning, who could possibly be awake besides her? If it was her stepmother—which Frances highly doubted—she wouldn’t allow her entrance into the room. That was a face she didn’t want to see, especially since Frances was out of sort—and out of her mind, probably—right now.
Frances walked to the door and opened it slowly, wanting to see who was standing on the other side before she could open it fully. After all, she was still in her nightdress.
Nash’s handsome, but deceitful, face came into her vision. Not believing she was seeing correctly, she blinked. His face had been in her mind most of the night, and apparently, it hadn’t left as she had wanted.
Sucking in a quick breath, she shook her head. Now was not the time—or the place—to speak with Nash. “Nooo...”
Panic etched in his eyes and he quickly pushed the door open and stepped inside. Anger replaced her sadness.
“How dare you,” she snapped.
“Shh...” He closed the door with his foot. “Frances, I know I shouldn’t be here, but I had to come see you. This is an urgent matter. Forgive me for not waiting.”
“No, Nash.” She swung away from him and folded her arms across her bosom. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “My precious, please talk to me. There has been a misunderstanding, and we need to discuss it.”
“Misunderstanding?” she shrieked and spun around, facing him. She bunched her hands into fists, wanting to pummel his chest, but refraining. “What is there to misunderstand? I saw you with Lady Livingston last night—the same night, let me remind you, that we planned to be together. The same night we had planned to give ourselves to each other. Or had you forgotten about that?”
“Frances, listen to me.” He grasped her arms, but she yanked them away. “Yes, Lady Livingston was there—uninvited—but if you had only stayed a few moments longer, you would have seen me toss her out of my house. I didn’t want her there. I wanted you.”
Huffing, Frances rolled her eyes. “If you didn’t want her there, then what was she doing in your arms?”
Nash sighed and folded his arms over his wide chest. “Tell me, Frances, what exactly did you see?”
“Did you not hear me? The woman was in your arms, you imbecile.”
“Yes, I heard you,” he answered calmly. “But bear with me on this. I want you to tell me exactly what you saw.”
This was easy for her to answer since the silhouette of him and that dreadful woman had been branded in Frances’ memory. And no matter how many times she tried to forget, the recollection wouldn’t disappear.
“Your hands were holding her shoulders and her arms were wrapped around your waist as she pressed herself against you intimately.” She swallowed the lump of emotion rising in her throat. “She was telling you that I wouldn’t make you happy, but she would be able to accomplish that day and night. She also said something about you begging her once you two were in your bed.”
Tears grew in Frances’ eyes, even though she fought it. Reliving this heartbreaking moment was more than she could handle.
Determination flashed across his face, and in two steps, he closed the space between them, pulling her up against him as he wrapped his arms around her. Immediately, she stiffened.
“Like this?” he asked in a deep voice as he stared down into her face. “Was this what you saw?”
The intimate way he held her made her suck in a quick breath. She wanted to kick his leg, slap him, or something...if not for the warmth rushing through her limbs right now. “No,” she answered.
“Because when I hold a woman I’m very attracted to, I like my arms to surround them completely as if she’s in a cocoon. When I invite a woman into my embrace, I hold her in this manner, and drop my face so close to hers as I prepare for the inevitable kiss we both want.”
Confusion spread through her. This was nothing like the stance she’d witnessed between him and Lady Livingston. In fact, the woman had seemed the aggressor...not Nash.
“So tell me,” he continued. “Was this what you saw? Was I holding her like this?”
“No.”
“I had begged her to stop,” Nash explained with sadness in his voice. “I kept telling her that I was going to marry you...that I wanted to marry you. Not her. I told her that only you could make me happy.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly as his arms relaxed slightly. “Not long after that, my temper finally snapped and I literally shoved her out of my house. She wouldn’t accept no for an answer, and I wouldn’t allow her to convince me otherwise. I’m not a violent man, but I would have been with her if she hadn’t left.”
Part of Frances’ broken heart wanted to believe him...trust him. But it was hard. She honestly didn’t know him that well. She didn’t know if he lied to women just to seduce them. She couldn’t forget that he’d been a rogue before inheriting the title.
“Why was she there?” she asked with a shaky voice.
His fingers stroked over her long hair hanging down her back. “She’d mentioned that she had someone watching me. That’s why she knew my sisters were gone and that I’d just returned from the duke and duchess’ party. Lady Livingston still wants to marry me, which I don’t understand, especially since she can have any man she wants. So why me?”
He lifted a hand and with his fingers, brushed the tears trailing down her face. “When you saw us in each other’s arms,” he continued, “I was trying to shove her away, which was why my hands were on her shoulders. If only you had stayed to watch a few more minutes, you would have seen me yell at her and tell her I didn’t want to have anything to do with her ever again.” He caressed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. “My servant, Dalton, witnessed it. If you don’t believe me, then I pray, ask him.”
As she stared into his beautiful blue-gray eyes, her heart twisted with confusion. He was telling her the truth. She knew it. And yet, did it matter now? Adam was back in her life. Hadn’t she given her love to her soldier and had promised to love him always?
Burying her face into his shirt, she released a fresh batch of tears. Her body shook uncontrollably. “Oh, Nash. Forgive me for doubting you. I was such a jealous fool.”
Strong, but gentle, hands moved soothingly over her back. She breathed in his intoxicating scent of pine and leather, and it touched her everywhere. This too, would always be branded in her memory.
“Oh, Frances, my precious,” he said with a tight voice as he kissed the top of her head. “It’s all right. The truth is out in the open now. You need not fear any longer.”
His statement was quite comical, especially now. He didn’t know about Adam, and although she wanted to tell him, she hesitated. Adam hadn’t said anything about his life being a secret now. Did he want others to know? After all, he had finally told her the truth.
“Actually, no.” She lowered her hands and raised her gaze to his. “Nash, there is more that you don’t know about.”
His forehead creased. “More? With Lady Livingston?”
“No, not her. It’s...Adam.”
A sympathetic expression crossed Nash’s handsome features and he cupped the side of her face. “You can tell me anything, my precious. We will soon be husband and wife, and I want our marriage to be one of honesty.”
Once more, her heart twisted painfully. “Then there is something I need to tell you. In fact, I just learned about this last night when I returned from seeing you and Lady Livingston...you know.” She gulped.
“What is it, my precious Frances?”
“Adam...isn’t dead.”
NASH PEERED INTO FRANCES’ serious, watery brown eyes. Had he heard correctly? No, there had to be some mistake.
“What?” He shook his head. “What do you mean Adam isn’t dead?”
She blew out a heavy breath. “Do you remember meeting Lord Calvin Drake—Adam’s cousin?”
“Yes.” He gritted his teeth, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.
“Well, Lord Calvin is really Adam.”
His mind skidded to a halt. He hadn’t expected her to say that! “Wh-what?”
She nodded. “Apparently, Adam is now a spy and he works for the Prince Regent. When he was in battle, he almost died, but it was because someone was trying to kill him because of the information he discovered. The prince told him to let his identity as Adam die, and that’s when he took over his cousin’s identity as Lord Calvin.”
Stunned, Nash was speechless, and his mind was empty, which rarely happened. However, pain clenched his heart, more severely than when he’d realized that Frances had seen him with Lady Livingston.
If what she said was true, then... The pain in his heart tightened. Frances would indeed want to marry Lord Calvin since she had given her heart to him first. She’d told Nash the first time she offered him that ridiculous proposal that it would be in name only because she could never love another man.
Slowly, he lowered his arms and withdrew his touch by taking a step back. Sorrow seeped into his soul. Frances appeared genuinely upset over this. Why wasn’t she rejoicing? But perhaps she was upset because she had come to care for Nash, after all. Perhaps she would miss him when he withdrew his proposal and allowed her to be with the man she truly loved.
Not many times in Nash’s life had he wanted to cry, but the longer he stared at Frances, the more his throat tightened and his mouth dried. Tears would build in his eyes at any moment, he was certain.
He cleared his throat. “What a remarkable tale. I’m sure Adam has had the adventure he always wanted.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“So he’d returned to live out the rest of his life as an earl?”
“Yes. That’s how I understood it.”
Nash opened his mouth to ask if Adam wanted her back, but he quickly closed it before the words exited. Of course, the man wanted Frances back in his life. What sane man would refuse such a passionate beauty?
“Have...um, have you told your father?”
She shook her head.
“I wonder how your father will be able to deal with this. I mean, just last night he made the announcement about our engagement, and now he needs to rescind it.” He licked his dry lips. “Is that even possible?”
Frances’ face tightened as more tears fell from her eyes. “This, I don’t know.”
Anger, disappointment, and regret mixed together to spread through his hollow heart. He exhaled roughly and dragged his fingers through his hair, turning away from her to pace the floor. “Perhaps this was why fate couldn’t bring us together as we had wanted.”
“Yes, perhaps,” she replied softly.
“I must say, I’m truly disheartened over these turn of events. But I suppose all is for the best. After all, Adam is getting the woman he wanted, and you are marrying the man who holds your heart.” He stopped and looked at her, wanting her to correct him, but knowing she wouldn’t.
Her gaze dropped to the floor as she nodded quietly.
Emotionally destitute, he realized if he didn’t leave soon that he’d fall on his knees and beg for her love. He couldn’t do that for his own peace of mind. He couldn’t make such an utter fool of himself, either.
“Then I suggest you speak with your father today about the issue, and send me a missive to let me know what to expect. I’ll act any way your father wishes me to act in front of society. I only want your happiness.”
Tears stung his eyes, so he quickly hurried out of the room before she noticed. As much as he wanted her to run after him and confess her undying love, he knew that would never happen. He wasn’t her first love. And he would never be.
SIXTEEN
Frances peeled her eyelids open the best she could. They felt like dead weights. Exhaustion from crying and worrying about the situation between her and Nash—and Adam—had finally taken its toll and put her to sleep.
Her drapes were drawn and a tray of food sat on her small table. Wearily, she pulled herself out of bed and walked to the food. She nibbled on the dry bread and salty cheese, and plopped two grapes in her mouth, but that was all she could eat.
She wandered to the window, pushed back the drapes ever so slightly, and peeked outside. The sun was setting on the horizon. I’ve been asleep all day? Perhaps it was best. She was tired of crying...tired of wanting her life to change. She was exhausted with trying to reach for something she would never have. Fate hadn’t been very kind to her, and she didn’t know why.
Frances hurried to the water basin and splashed water on her face. She was sure her eyes were still puffy and red, but she needed to talk to her father. He would know what to do. She hoped.
She threw on her dressing gown and pushed her bare feet into slippers before leaving her room. As she moved down the stairs, she listened for voices. Augusta’s voice came from the drawing room. Knowing her stepmother, she probably had some visitors, which usually meant that the duke was in his study with a bottle of brandy and a cigar.
Bypassing the drawing room so that no guests would see her in her night clothes, Frances scooted down the next corridor. As she neared the study, her father’s cigar scent lingered in the hall. She couldn’t detect voices, so he was probably alone. Lately, Conrad hadn’t been staying home much. Frances suspected he might be trying to find a woman to marry since their father was hounding him, as well.
She stopped in front of the door. Staring at the hardwood, she breathed deeply, trying to gain courage. Would her father help her at all? Since Frances’ mother died, he’d not been the same man...especially once he married Augusta. He’d been distant, and she wanted the other father back in her life—the one who took the time to listen to her problems or her heartaches.
Would he ever become that father again?
She knocked softly.
“Enter,” his deep voice rang through the room.
She turned the doorknob and walked inside. The cigar scent was stronger in the air, almost overbearing. She waved a hand in front of her face. “Goodness, Father. How can you breathe in this stuffy room?”
“Forgive me. I didn’t think I was going to have company.” He motioned to the window. “Open the window and let in some fresh air.”
Needing to breathe, she quickly did as he requested. When the evening’s cool air caressed her face, she closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh scent.
“Why are you in your night clothes?” he asked.
Frances turned toward him, but leaned back against the wall nearest to the window. “I’ve actually not changed my clothes since last evening. I’ve been in my room all day. Have you not noticed?”
“No. Forgive me, my dear. I fear I haven’t been very attentive of late.”
Her heart twisted from the forlorn hum gripping her father’s voice. The duke stared at his empty glass wearing a frown.
“Father,” she sighed and moved to his side, patting his shoulder. “What is amiss? Will you please talk to me like you used to?”
He lifted his troubled gaze to her and nodded. “I try to be strong, especially in front of my children, but deep inside,” he placed a hand on his chest, “I cannot stop wishing your mother was still alive.”
Frances smiled as tears collected in her eyes again. “I wish that all the time. But I know she’s in Heaven, and she is my guardian angel. You must believe that, too. It’s the only thing that helps me deal with the pain of losing a parent.” She bent and kissed her father’s cheek. “But I don’t want to lose another one.”
“No, my dear. You won’t lose me.” He cupped her cheek.
“But Father, I already have. You don’t talk to me like you used to. And I’m quite certain you are just as distant to Conrad.”
His eyes grew moist with emotion. “Yes, I have become rather distant, haven’t I?”
She grasped both of his hands and squeezed. “Then we shall deal with our loss together, and we shall overcome.”
“What would I do without you?” He smiled weakly.
“I hope you never have to know that answer.” She bent and kissed his cheek again before straightening. “Father, I need to talk to you now if you don’t mind. Something has happened, and I need your advice. I need to know how to handle this unexpected problem.”
Nodding, he cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair. “I shall try my best to help.”
She moved to the nearest chair and sat, wringing her hands in her lap. “Father, last night I had a visitor—”
“Last night? Before or after the party?”
“It was after I had retired for bed.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Someone came to your room?”
Oh, dear... She must arrange her words so that she didn’t say something unnecessary. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went out to the stable to saddle Pegasus. That’s when I had the visitor. They saw me and came to speak with me.”
Leaning back in his chair, he linked his fingers across his middle. “Who was it?”
