Authors: Elizabeth Boyce
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Historical
But she managed to stay upright and not make a fool of herself, despite thoughts of his teasing words to Catherine before dinner. What would he have done if she’d declared she’d have him? He’d have been in a fine pickle then. She smiled, wishing she’d done just that, if only to see him squirm.
At first sight of the house, she sucked in a sharp breath. She’d almost forgotten. Morena wanted to speak with him. That was one of Christie’s reasons for accompanying him this evening — to ensure he arrived home in time. Inez would be in a state if the whole business wasn’t settled tonight as planned.
Nat pulled Diablo to a halt in front of the veranda. “You’d better get inside.” He dismounted, then reached up to lift her down. “The rain’s about to hit.”
The wind whipped at the skirt of her riding habit, and snapped at her cheeks, but for some reason she found it hard to let go — to see their time together end. She kept her hands on his shoulders even after he set her on the ground. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll be in as soon as I bed these two down.”
She dropped her hands, then took a step back, conscious of his curious stare and the impropriety of her lingering touch. The last thing she wanted was to appear forward, but the sooner he returned to the house — the sooner Inez’s engagement would be secured.
Inez was keeping vigil on the wide oak stairs when Christie got there. She sprang to her feet as soon as Christie came through the door.
“I brought him back as soon as I could.” Christie peered left toward the sitting room, then right toward the dining room. “Where’s Morena?”
“She is in Señor Randall’s study,” Inez whispered, her brown eyes as wide as walnuts. “I convinced her to wait there before she wore the polish from the floor.”
“I suppose she’s very nervous.”
“Oh no, she is never nervous,” Inez said, almost dancing on the spot with excitement. “But once she makes up her mind, she does not like to wait. I am the one who is nervous.”
“Not to worry.” Christie patted her shoulder. “We’ve got him cornered now. You wait upstairs.” Christie steered her back up the stairs. “I’ll come and fetch you as soon as I send him to the study.”
Inez did a furious head bob, then hastened up the stairs.
Christie decided to wait in the sitting room, rather than arouse Nat’s suspicion by pouncing on him as soon as he stepped through the door. She pranced to the sideboard to pour a glass of wine. She had to admit, the prospect of Inez’s long awaited engagement finally coming to fruition had her beset with excitement. She felt like celebrating.
By the time she took her first sip wine, rain was lashing against the windows.
Not long after she heard voices in the hall.
Fearing Holt had arrived earlier than expected and might spirit Nat away, she set her glass on the sideboard, then rushed out into the hall.
But it was only Iago, securing the lock on the front door.
“Have you seen Señor Rañdall?”
“
Sí
, he is very wet,” Iago said, black eyes twinkling. “Pardon, Señorita, but I must prepare his bath.”
“Thank you,” she answered breathlessly, rushing for the stairs. Well, one thing was certain, she couldn’t allow him to step one foot in that tub. Morena’s patience might not stretch to accommodate his leisurely soak, and Christie wasn’t prepared to go through this again. The suspense was killing her. How Inez had suffered through so many delays, she did not know.
After gaining the top of the stairs, Christie veered left, in the direction Inez had informed her Nat’s bedchamber was. The second door, if she remembered correctly. She rapped on the oak door three times.
When he jerked opened the door, she found herself staring at a bare, well-muscled chest. She dared not shift her gaze lower for fear of what else she might find. For a moment, the shock of so much skin made her forget why she was there. She uttered the first thing that popped into her head. “How did you get undressed so fast?”
He leaned against the doorframe and raised one brow. “Is that why you’re here? To see how fast I can undress?”
“Certainly not!” She lifted her gaze, realizing she’d been staring. As she did, she caught a glimpse of the firm, smooth surface of his stomach. Her words came in a breathless gasp, “I came to tell you you’re needed downstairs, right away.”
The lazy smile faded from his lips. He strode to the bed, snatched up a dry shirt, then began shrugging into it on the way out the door.
She hurried to keep up as he strode down the hall. “There’s no need to look so serious. It isn’t an emergency.”
He stopped at the top of the landing. “What?” His gaze narrowed on her under a gathering brow. Suppressed anger underlined his words. “Did you or did you not just burst into my bedchamber to inform me I was needed immediately downstairs?”
She cringed inwardly, but held her ground. “I did knock.”
He appeared ready to devour her whole.
She took a step back. “I believe my exact words were, right away. It was you who charged from your bedchamber as though the house was on fire.”
“Then I suggest you tell me what it is right now, because in case you haven’t noticed, half of me is soaked through to the skin.” His voice continued to rise. “And the other half is getting angrier by the moment.”
“Morena wishes to speak with you in the study. It’s very important,” she added hastily. “It’s the last opportunity she’ll have since you’re leaving in the morning.”
He took a long deep breath, as though attempting to calm himself. “You hunted me down to tell me my cook wishes to speak with me.” He turned on his heel and stalked back down the hall toward his bedchamber.
Christie raced past him, to position herself in front of the door.
He let out a loud groan, boarding on a growl. “What now?”
“Please,” she begged. “It will only take a moment.”
“My bath is growing cold.”
“Iago hasn’t even finished filling the tub.” Her tone turned pleading. “I’ll tell him to hold off until you’re done.”
He set his hands on his hips. “Has anyone ever told you, you are the most persistent female on the face of this earth?”
She pressed her lips together to stifle a smile. “My father tells me that often.”
“A pity his wisdom didn’t extend to a sound thrashing,” Nat muttered, heading for the stairs.
“He isn’t a violent man,” Christie answered, hot on his heel.
“Nor am I, usually.” He halted at the top of the stairs to send her a glare. “But I’m beginning to re-think my position.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything to end this ceaseless nagging.”
“You might have time to change your trousers, but I’d hate to leave Morena waiting any longer.”
“Perish the thought.” He headed down the stairs.
Christie followed, praying his foul mood would abate before he reached the study.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Christie prowled before the sitting room window, chewing her lip. A half hour had passed. What on earth could be taking so long? The matter only required a simple yes or no. Either he gave his permission or not. It was all she could do not to rush across the hall and press her ear to the door.
There was precious little to distract her in the sparsely decorated room, besides the rain, pelting against the windows and the sweet fragrance of apple wood burning in the grate.
The tall multi-paned windows let in the gloom, turning the pale blue wallpaper to grey. A walnut highboy to the right of the fireplace cast shadows against the satin upholstered sofa and chairs. The only cheery sight was the prisms, dangling from the candelabras on the mantel, reflected in the large Continental mirror. Like much of the house, it lacked a personal touch with no trinkets to keep a visitor amused.
What were they doing in there? Cooking up another plot to delay the match? Perhaps that was it. Morena was dragging her feet again. Considering Inez’s love-sick desperation, it wasn’t a wise idea. She and Heriberto might run off and do something rash.
Ohhhh!
If only she could hear what they were saying!
Christie stopped in her tracks, tempted to make her way to the kitchen in search of Inez.
Then, like spider legs creeping up your back, something told her she was being watched.
She swung round from the rain-drenched window.
Nat lounged in the doorway, looking freshly scrubbed.
The sight of him sent a thrill rushing through her. The light blue shirt, tucked neatly into his black trousers, made his tan appear darker, turning his eyes a deep cobalt blue. It wasn’t fair that he always looked so cool and collected.
“There.” He cocked a half smile. “Are you satisfied?”
She feigned a wide-eyed innocent look — no easy accomplishment in the face of his sardonic smile. “Whatever do you mean?”
Nat laughed, sauntering to the fireplace to toss in a log. “Don’t play coy with me. You know very well why Morena wanted to speak with me. Hell! You probably arranged the whole thing.”
“I had no part in it.” She assumed an injured air. “Other than getting you to the study.”
He rested his arm on the mantel and slanted a skeptical brow.
“And making certain you arrived home on time.”
“In other words, you knew all about it,” he drawled. “It might have been nice had you warned me.”
“It wasn’t my place.”
“Ha!” He didn’t bother to disguise his humor. “Yet, you had no trouble conspiring behind my back.”
“I wouldn’t call it conspiring.”
“No? What would you call it?”
“Arranging.” This came out so matter of fact, she almost believed it herself. “I simply made certain you were in the right place at the right time.”
He grunted, then reached for the poker to jab at the logs in the grate.
“How was I to know you’d be in such a disagreeable mood?”
He lifted the poker as one might point a finger. “My temper might have cooled had I known why Morena wanted to speak with me. As it was, I nearly frightened her half to death.”
“Poor Morena!” She slashed him a scolding glance, then sailed for the sofa. After she’d taken up her perch, she smoothed her skirts saying, “Perhaps that will teach you to control your temper next time.”
He replaced the poker, making a low sound in his throat. “Slim chance of that, with you driving me to distraction. I think you owe me an apology.”
“Me! Why should I apologize for your foul temper?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
When he made to move toward her, she sprang from her seat. “I was only trying to help Inez.”
This failed to stop his approach.
She danced around the other side of the sofa. “I had no control over you being caught out in the rain.”
He changed direction with a predatory gleam in his eye.
Her gaze shifted to the door then back. She could either stand her ground or make a run for it. Never being one to shrink from adversity, she thrust her chin forward and held her ground. “Very well, I’m sorry your bath was delayed.”
“And … ”
“Perhaps I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have.” He halted before her, hands on his hips. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
His superiority rankled. It was bad enough he’d extorted an apology from her under the threat of violence. She had a good mind to retract every word. Instead, she turned to vacate the room. It had been a long day. She hadn’t the stamina to continue this senseless game of one-upmanship. He was a man and determined to be right at all costs. Far be it from her to deny him that simple pleasure.
Then she remembered why she’d been there in the first place. “Did you give Inez your blessing?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you!” She turned again, throwing over her shoulder. “That’s all I wished to know.”
“Hold on a minute.” He captured her hand to draw her back. “You can’t go yet. We haven’t toasted the happy couple.”
She hesitated, leery of his changeable mood. But before she could reply, he was already striding from the room.
Oh well, why not celebrate? It was partly from her efforts their engagement was finally official, and that was a very pleasing thought. She’d never planned a wedding before. Helping Inez might prove a welcome distraction while Nat and Holt were off chasing the Everetts.
Nat returned, carrying a bottle of red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. “It’s the best I can do on short notice.” He strode to the side table to set the glasses on a silver tray. “It should be champagne, but there isn’t any chilled.”
She glided to the sofa to perch on the edge to wait. “Had I known you had champagne squirreled away, I’d have chilled it myself.”
He chuckled. “That would have been rather presumptuous.”
She accepted the glass he handed her, wiggling back on the sofa. “Are you saying you might have refused the match?”
Instead of sitting in one of the chairs across from her as she expected, he positioned himself at the other end of the sofa, arm stretched across the back, feet braced apart. “It crossed my mind it should be delayed.”
“But you said you didn’t object.”
“It isn’t a matter of my consent. It’s a matter of timing. In case you haven’t noticed, I have more important things on my mind than Inez and Heriberto’s wedding.”
“No one expects you to plan it. Although it would nice if you could attend.” She beamed him a sassy smile. “But the wedding is a long way off. The engagement party comes first, of course.”
“Engagement party?”
“There must be some celebration.” She resisted the urge to press further into the sofa to escape the threatening crackle in his blue eyes. “I don’t mind helping. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. Ellie has already promised to lend her advice and support.”
He heaved a long groan. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Extraordinary isn’t it.” Christie couldn’t help but smile. “We only just met today. Yet it seems as though we’ve known each other forever. When I told her of Inez’s predicament she jumped at the chance to help.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I think it’s marvelous. It will give her something to do, besides providing her with company to relieve her boredom and isolation. Isn’t that why you wanted us to meet?”