Bargaining With a Rogue, page 8
Frowning, she sighed. At least she knew that although he might not be fully committed to their marriage, he would be kind and tender. That was encouraging, wasn’t it?
NASH COULDN’T BELIEVE not one person had noticed the sticker weeds being placed under the horse’s blanket. Things like this didn’t happen by accident. The frustration he had about what happened at the park yesterday was that he didn’t know if he had been the unknown person’s target, or if it was Frances.
He finished dressing for this evening’s dinner social at Lord and Lady Berkley’s estate. He had received an invitation, along with the duke, so riding together made more sense. Nash had almost called it off, due to yesterday’s upset, but Frances had assured her father she would be ready.
Before leaving the manor, he grabbed his hat and headed to his horse. He checked his horse to see if there was anything that would upset the animal, and luckily, everything appeared fine. He mounted and rode toward the duke’s estate.
Strange to think, but he anxiously waited to see what Frances would be wearing this evening. Her parents greeted him when he entered the manor, but it wasn’t them he wanted to converse with. Nash kept his gaze locked on the stairs, even as he answered the duke’s questions, although Nash really wasn’t paying much attention to what was being asked.
Finally, the sound he’d been straining to hear echoed on the second floor as the clicking of women’s heeled shoes grew louder. When Frances came into view, he held his breath as he scanned his gaze over her gown. No longer did she resemble the girl he’d met that first day, or the innocent beauty who he escorted to the park, but instead, she had somehow blossomed into an extremely lovely woman. The beige gown with a lace overlay decorating not only her square neck bodice, but the high-waist gown and short sleeves. A white ribbon tied just under her breasts and on the cuffs of her sleeves. She wore white elbow-length gloves, and a string of pearls rested on her most delicate neck. Her lovely dark brown hair was wound in a coil while wisps of curls hung on her neck and by her ears.
Slowly, Nash released the air from his lungs as she descended the stairs. Her gaze locked on his, and the closer she came, the wider her smile grew. She reached him and curtsied. He bowed, but didn’t take his eyes off her.
“Lady Frances, you are a vision of loveliness.”
Twins spots of pink darkened her cheeks. “I thank you, my lord, and let me return the compliment. You look rather dashing. I think the deep blue of your waistcoat looks good on you.” She rested her hand briefly on the garment before removing her touch.
“I must admit, it’s my favorite color.” He offered his arm. “Shall we go now?”
Behind Nash, the duke cleared his throat. “Splendid idea.”
The duke’s strong voice startled Nash. He’d forgotten about Frances’ parents being so near.
Frances took hold of his elbow, and automatically, he placed his hand over her fingers. Her eyes lifted and met his. Heavens, she looked so pretty. Back in his rogue days, he would have targeted Frances as his next seduction. Strange that the mere mention of marriage had him pushing his heels into the ground as fast as he could. As much as he wanted to seduce this woman, he stopped himself for fear of making a fool out of himself.
Nash and Frances shared a coach with her parents. Nash enjoyed the way Frances’ soft body bumped against him during the ride. At first, she was as stiff as a board, but by the time they reached the party, she practically rested against him.
He took pride in walking into the manor with the loveliest woman in England. Many people watched them with wide, curious eyes. A few men threw glares at Nash, and a handful of women snubbed Frances. Apparently, Nash and Frances were the talk of the town already.
A familiar face captured his attention. Standing in the back of the room by Lady Berkley, was none other than Lady Livingston. He bunched his hands into fists as worry escalated inside of him. Candace wouldn’t cause any problems...would she? He prayed she respected her sister’s house and friends more than causing a scene. If he had remembered the two ladies were related, Nash wouldn’t have come tonight.
Candace looked directly at him. Lines of confusion pulled at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth, making her appear ten years older. He didn’t dare acknowledge her—not yet—so he slid a hand on Frances’ back as they moved into the room. Frances greeted some ladies, smiling politely and acting genuinely happy to see them.
A butler brought a tray of champagne, which Nash was eager to taste. Actually, if he could get whiskey, the effect would help him much better. Unfortunately, he accepted what was given.
Frances stood beside him, sipping her champagne as her gaze combed the people gathered in the room. She would see Candace at any moment, and he didn’t know how she would react. Holding his breath, he waited for the moment of recognition.
The moment happened when Frances body stiffened and she stopped the drink nearly to her mouth. He didn’t want to say anything...mainly, because he didn’t know what to say.
After a few very uncomfortable seconds, she exhaled slowly and lowered the drink. Her body continued to appear very stiff as she lifted her head and met his stare.
She licked her tight lips. “I’m sure you know who is here.”
He nodded.
“Were you aware that she would be here?”
“No. If I had known, I wouldn’t have come.”
She kept her gaze on him, although malice lit her eyes. “Are you going to leave my side to go talk to her tonight?”
He arched an eyebrow. “I hadn’t planned on it, but after all, we are at a party, so I expect both of us will mingle.”
Frances’ shoulders sagged. “Nash, how many people in this room know about your affair with that woman?” she whispered.
He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t dare. Was Frances jealous, or was she just being controlling? He prayed it wasn’t the latter. “How would I know? Do you wish me to go ask all of the guests?”
“Of course not.” Her nostrils flared and her lips thinned.
He gently caressed her shoulder. “My precious,” he said softly, “please don’t worry. I promise not to do anything that will embarrass either one of us tonight.”
She lowered her gaze and turned from him. The silence between them bothered him, but so were the thoughts running through his head. Was this how she would act once they were married? Was it her intent to keep him from speaking to any lovely woman...or just his former mistresses?
Slowly, anger built inside of him. He didn’t want to hold bitter feelings toward Frances after they were married, but if she planned on turning into a shrew, he knew now he wasn’t going to handle it well.
Frances’ parents took her away to introduce her to some other people, leaving Nash by himself. He shouldn’t have come tonight. And he shouldn’t have agreed to marry Frances. Yet, he wasn’t given a choice.
He lifted the glass to his mouth, but then realized it was empty. He searched for a waiter, and then placed his empty glass on the tray before taking a full glass of champagne. For certain, this drink wouldn’t dull his senses as he wished. Tonight would be torture, he was certain.
New arrival of guests entered the room. Nash recognized a man he hadn’t seen since he was in school. A woman hung on the man’s arm. By their dour expressions, neither of them appeared too happy. Nash rolled his eyes. He was willing to bet they were married.
Inwardly, he groaned. Would this be him and Frances in a few years?
A throb began pounding in Nash’s forehead, so he rubbed the tips of his fingers in the spot, hoping to relieve the pain. Truth be told, one of the main reasons he never wanted to marry was because since he was a lad, he’d watched married couples slowly fall out of love. Happily married couples rarely existed. He didn’t ever want to be in that situation. If he fell out of love with a woman, he would just move onto another one. That had been his way of life for several years.
Leaning his shoulder against the wall, he watched Frances interact with the others. She was shy with some people, and yet others she wasn’t. Her actions made him curious, but he hesitated to say anything to her about it. Perhaps she wasn’t aware of what she was doing.
Just then, a man walked up to her father, and he introduced the other man. Lord Calvin Drake was a name Nash had heard whispered in gossip circles. The tall, broad-shouldered, robust man had been on most eligible woman’s dream list. He’d been single for many years, but lately there had been talk of him looking for a wife. Not only did Lord Calvin have charm, but the marquess’ youngest son was wealthy to boot. Both of the man’s parents came from old money.
As the introductions were being made, Frances’ eyes lit up like stars and she smiled wide. Nash’s gut twisted. Why hadn’t she looked at him in such a way? Worse, wondering why he even cared?
“So the rumors are true?”
A deep, sensual voice snapped Nash out of his thoughts, making him jump. He whipped around to look at the woman standing behind him. In a split second, his heart dropped. Lady Livingston!
His first reaction was to see if Frances noticed who he was talking with, but he quickly ushered out that response. He wasn’t committing a crime because he was with his former mistress.
“Candace,” he said and bowed.
“Lord Wolverton.” She curtsied. “I saw you standing over here all alone, and I just knew I had to come over.” She presented him her famous pout that she gave to men when she wanted something. “Why didn’t you meet me after the ball as I’d asked?”
He wanted to peek over his shoulder so badly to see if Frances was watching, but he fought away the urge. What was wrong with him? “I had to get my sisters home. I didn’t have time to meet you, as I’d thought.”
Frowning, Candace shook her head. “Why don’t I believe you?”
He gave her a nonchalant shrug. “I suppose you will believe what you want, but it’s the truth.” Well...perhaps not all of the truth.
“Why did you not tell me you are courting Lady Ramsbury when we chatted at the ball?”
“Because I have only just started to court her.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Truly, Nash. Tell me what is really going on.”
He chuckled before taking another taste of his drink. “Lady Livingston, it’s really nothing to worry about.”
“Are you in love with her?”
He kept himself from laughing out loud. Candace didn’t need to know everything in his life. “So, my lady, since we didn’t get a chance to talk after the ball,” he quickly changed the subject, “why do you not tell me now what you were going to say?”
Her gaze narrowed on him suspiciously. “I’d rather talk in private.”
“But, my lady, we might never get that chance again.”
Her expression fell. “Why? Are you going to marry Lady Ramsbury?”
Nash couldn’t lie about this. Candace would find out eventually. In less than a week, to be exact.
“Indeed. I’m going to marry her.”
Anger burned in her eyes as her face tightened. “But, Nash,” she said very quietly, “I was going to ask you to marry me.”
SEVEN
Frances’ heart raced as she studied Lord Calvin Drake’s handsome face. The resemblance between him and his cousin, Adam Haddington, was remarkable. There were moments during their introduction when she thought she was peering into the eyes of her dead fiancé. Both men had the same dark hair. Both men had the same green eyes. But Lord Calvin held himself a little taller, and certainly smiled a lot more. He also sported a goatee, which wasn’t very popular with the gentlemen. However, it looked amazing on Lord Calvin. Meeting him had brought back so many memories of Adam, and it took all of her willpower not to cry.
“I’m very glad I finally met my cousin’s fiancé. I had heard so much about you,” Lord Calvin said.
She nodded as a lump of emotion swelled in her throat. “And I’m happy to finally meet you, as well.”
He had the most remarkable green eyes, so much like Adam’s. She dared not stare into them for too long for fear her mind would accept this man as her fiancé who’d returned from the dead to take over his cousin’s body. Inwardly, she laughed over the strange thought. She really needed to stop living in her dreams and enter the real world.
“Is it permissible to call upon you tomorrow afternoon?” he asked.
Her heart leapt and the words yes please were ready to spring from out of her mouth, but she quickly quenched them. She couldn’t possibly have him call upon her for two reasons. The first one was probably most important—that she needed to forget about Adam Haddington. She couldn’t waste her life on a man who was dead. And the second reason, of course, being that she was soon to marry Nash.
She took a quick glance at her father. He stared at her with that all-too familiar arched eyebrow. The duke was probably expecting her to jump at the chance of being with one of Adam’s relatives, and of course, her father would not approve.
She sighed and met Lord Calvin’s dreamy eyes again. “I fear, my lord, that I must decline. My father will be signing my betrothal papers any day now.”
The handsome man’s countenance drooped in disappointment. Even the light in his eyes disappeared. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure your future husband will be one lucky man.”
Once again, she wanted to laugh. She doubted Nash was thinking that now.
Lord Calvin bowed to her father, and then to her before turning and leaving. She wanted so much to call out and stop him. The urge to ask him about Adam’s life was strong, but she mustn’t give in. Adam was in her past and Nash was her future.
And speaking of the little devil...
She skimmed the crowd, searching for her almost fiancé. Immediately, she recognized the charming seducer who stood way too close to Lady Livingston, and whose smile was much too wide. Frances’ heart twisted as irritation rose within her. He’d broken his promise already? Although, he worded it that he wouldn’t do anything to embarrass either one of them. He didn’t actually say he would never speak to Lady Livingston ever again.
Fisting her hands, Frances prepared what she was going to say to him, but just then, Lady Berkley announced that they could go into the dining room for the meal. Without being able to stop it, Frances headed toward Nash and his former mistress, eager to break up their quaint discussion. However, before reaching his side, the other woman turned and sashayed away.
Frances slowed her steps, and tried to conceal the anger rumbling inside of her. Nash turned just as Frances reached him. His eyes widened, and a flash of guilt etched across his face. But within seconds, he smiled and took Frances’ hand, hooking it over his elbow as if nothing had happened.
“Did you have a nice visit with your new friend? I’m surprised he would dare wear facial hair. It isn’t the fashion, you know” he asked, leading her toward the dining room.
“My new friend? What are you referring to, Lord Englewood?”
He gave her a skeptical glance. “You know. Lord Calvin.”
Nash saw me with Adam’s cousin? “Uh, yes. I was happy to meet Lord Haddington’s cousin.”
Nash’s eyebrows lifted. “His cousin?”
She nodded. “Yes. He and my deceased fiancé were cousins. Was it a crime to talk to him?”
Nash scowled. “Of course not.”
“And what about you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm as they were nearly to the table. “How was your visit with Lady Livingston? Did you enjoy yourself?”
“As much as I dared,” he said in a low voice as they stood behind their chairs, waiting for the host and hostess to sit first.
They didn’t continue the conversation, only because the host and hostess sat and they started the meal courses, beginning with soup.
Frances peeked at Nash beside her, and his head was bent as he ate his soup. Taking small spoonfuls, she slowly consumed her soup as she’d suddenly lost her appetite. Why did she always argue with Nash? This wasn’t the way she wanted to start a marriage.
Quickly, she brought her mind to a halt. What was she thinking? She knew this marriage wasn’t going to be happy. She needed to remember that although it wouldn’t be perfect, at least she wasn’t marrying Augusta’s obstinate nephew.
As Frances took another sip of her soup, she moved her gaze around the table...and stopped on the man who was watching her. Although Lord Calvin Drake was eating, he still had his eyes on her. The speculative expression on his face made her cautious. Was he trying to see if she was truly happy? Then again, she didn’t know why he would care. She gave him a polite smile before lowering her attention back to her bowl.
Soon, several conversations grew around the table. She didn’t know which one to be part of. She sat by her father, and he discussed politics with friends he’d known for years. Nash entered into a conversation with the gentlemen sitting nearest to him about horse racing. Neither conversation roused her interest. However, watching Nash was quite entertaining.
Stars sparkled in his eyes as he talked about horses, and his whole expression grew bright with excitement. His voice lifted, but it wasn’t loud. Instead, the energy he displayed in the topic actually soothed her. She loved horses, too, and it was thrilling to know they had at least one thing in common.
The dinner passed quickly, and soon the women were moving into the drawing room to work on their embroidery while the men stayed in the dining room to smoke their cigars and drink their port. Frances wasn’t in the mood to embroider. In fact, she was very uncomfortable being in the same room with Lady Livingston. Nash’s mistress sat much closer to her than before, and because of the glares the woman threw Frances’ way, her chest tightened and made it harder to breathe.
Finally, she could take no more. Frances leaned closer to her stepmother and whispered, “It’s quite stuffy in here. I’m going to step outside to get some fresh air.”
