Dare to Love (36 page)

“That’s much better. Come, let us brave the lions together.” Taking her arm, he guided her down to the dining room.

To say lunch was a strained affair would be exceedingly generous. Dare’s father sat at the head of the table, slowly and painfully spooning broth into his mouth. He refused to acknowledge either of them as they entered.

Lady Landis sat at the foot of the table flanked by Dare’s sisters. They were slender, poised, and dressed to the height of fashion. Nivea sighed, feeling awkward as usual. Dare gave her hand a comforting squeeze before taking his seat at the opposite end of the table.

The marquess wasted no time dominating the conversation. In between spoonfuls, he railed against everything from the cost of livestock to the weather. But his favorite topic was disparaging his son.

It was difficult to look at him; his disease had left him so disfigured. His face and hands were swollen with boils. His eyes, black and fierce, glared out from beneath untamed brows. His cravat was dotted with stains, as a lack of teeth permitted soup to spew forth with every pronouncement.

Fortunately, he did not expect a response, so Nivea followed the lead of the others and concentrated on her meal. Her nerves destroyed her appetite, so she toyed with her plate while listening to the ranting of a madman.

“I received a note from Billingston today. I see you defied me once again and forfeited your marriage contract. Made me a laughingstock, of course. He was quite eager to tie his daughter to a title such as ours. And no wonder. His other chit married a baron, if you can imagine.” Agitated, he waved his spoon in the air, before taking another mouthful.“He expected better, but I guess everyone has children that disappoint them,” muttered the marquess. “Damn shame. Good, sensible fellow, Billingston is.”

Silence fell as he turned his attention back to his meal. It didn’t take long before he was waving his spoon again. “I suppose I was too soft on you. Never was able to break that stubborn streak of yours.”

Enraged at that proclamation, Nivea chanced a glance around the table. She noticed Dare’s sisters smirking at each other. Dare sat there, seemingly unaffected, methodically cutting his food and placing it into his mouth. He never acknowledged he even heard his father.

But there was no stopping the man. “Don’t expect an inheritance now, boy. I know you’ve been counting on it, no doubt frantically putting off creditors for years, waiting for me to put my spoon in the wall. You’ll be in quite a corner now. You’ll get the title, nothing I can do about that, but not a single groat if I can help it. I was willing to change things if you’d finally married, but you shot yourself in the foot with that one, didn’t you? No Billingston girl, no inheritance. Maybe poverty will teach you a valuable lesson.” He let out a wheezy sound that Nivea assumed was a laugh.

She was startled when Dare suddenly spoke up. “Father, have I ever asked you for a shilling?” His eyes were black and focused. When no response was forthcoming, he continued. “Truly, have I ever given you the slightest indication that I am in need of your money? Because, I assure you, I am not. I want nothing from you. You distribute your precious money as you see fit, and I can promise you, your death will bring me nothing but peace.”

Hearing this, delivered in a tone so casual and calm as to be almost bored, turned the marquess apoplectic. He banged on the table with his fist, causing all the women to jump. “I will not be talked to in my house like that! Of course you need money, you frivolous fool. Billingston would have seen that you had a proper dowry, and then I would have kept you in my will. But now, I will be stripping you of all funds. You will be penniless. You will never find a woman to marry you once you’re thrown into debtor’s prison,” the man crowed in victory.

Dare laid down his fork, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and in a very controlled voice responded, “Sir, you are mistaken. As I have explained, Miss Horsham has agreed to be my wife. She is not interested in my title or my wealth, although I’m certain she will be relieved to hear that she will lack neither. The very thought of holding your title fills me with revulsion, but fortunately for her, nothing can be done of it.”

Nivea couldn’t help but smile in response. It never occurred to her that either would matter. She just wanted him. More so now than ever. Noting her response, he quirked a slight grin in her direction and turned his attention back to his father.

“I know you have no confidence in my abilities or intelligence, but I assure you, I am a shrewd investor and quite comfortable. Best of all, I managed to achieve my wealth without treating people like animals. So, you and your money can go straight to Hell.”

Then he picked up his fork, speared a tender carrot, and popped it into his mouth.

The response was so explosive, Nivea’s heart nearly jumped from her chest. The marquess flung an arm in her direction and bellowed, “Surely you don’t mean to marry her. Look at her, boy—she’s God awful. She’s plain, obviously overly fond of biscuits, and timid as a church mouse. You think to make her the Marchioness of Raynsforth? You think she’s worthy? I couldn’t think of a less worthy prospect. If you are doing this simply to spite me, than I will get the last laugh. You will be stuck with her and I will be long gone. What a fool you’ll be then.”

Nivea went pale. What if he were correct? Maybe Dare had concocted this scheme as a way to irritate his father. That would explain why he’d asked her to marry him. Then she glanced down at the beautiful, sapphire ring, sparkling on her finger. He’d had it in his desk, waiting for her.

She raised her head and all doubts were erased. Dare was quivering with rage. He gave her a quick shake of his head, placed his napkin on the table, and rose from his seat. Standing to his full height, he locked eyes with his father. “Plain? You think Miss Horsham plain. And timid? Unworthy to be a Raynsforth? You, sir, are as blind as you are stupid. Of course she is pale here, where one’s very life is squashed from their soul. But when she is with her family and friends…when she is happy, she is the most beautiful woman imaginable. Her eyes glitter like sapphires, her warm smile lights up a room. Yes, she can be quiet and respectful, but she is also strong in spirit, and has more love in her than anyone I know.”

But that did not cow the old troll. “Bah,” he mocked, “that just proves what I said. She is weak, soft. Trust me, you could not be making a worse choice.”

“Soft? Nay, sir, her love is not soft. It is fierce and burning and has made me a man.”

Nivea could not have been more proud of him. But he was not finished. He took a breath and hissed, “You are absolutely right about one thing, sir. You would have selected someone completely different. Nivea comes from a kind and loving family who could not fathom the type of horror we’ve experienced in this house. Frankly, if you feel she is a mistake, then marrying her will be the best decision I’ve ever made.”

That was one of the most romantic declarations she’d ever heard. She wanted to leap across the table and kiss him senseless. Instead, she pressed her ring to her lips, and he winked at her in return.

Now that the yelling had stopped, the room had become deathly still. The women were all staring at the head of the table.

The marquess’s mouth hung open, as though shocked into silence. Then he began flailing his arms and ripping at his throat as though being choked.

Dare didn’t move. “Don’t pretend to die. I shan’t believe it.”

But before he could return to his seat, his father collapsed in his chair, unconscious.

“Good God, you’ve killed him,” screeched Fiona.

“Call the doctor,” screamed Anne.

Two footmen rushed into the room. Lady Landis ordered them to carry her husband upstairs. Before she followed them out, she turned to Dare and said, “Don’t look quite so guilty, darling. This has happened before, and he has always returned. Odds are the bastard will outlive us all.” With a swish of her skirts, she left the room.

Nivea sat in her chair, dazed. Never could she have pictured a family such as this. How was Dare capable of even the slightest glimmer of humanity growing up as he did? She could not fathom the insults, the yelling, the sheer hatred, smothering all hope of kindness.

Dare stood there, rigid…broken even, and her heart clenched. Pushing back her chair, she circled the table.“Dare? Are you all right?”

Black unfocused eyes turned to her. It took a moment before he crooked a very shaky grin at her. “I have had better days. Although, to be honest, I’ve had worse as well.” Grabbing her arm, he said, “Come, let’s take a walk. I feel the need to clear my head.”

She followed him outside, surprised to find the sun shining overhead. It was quite incongruous to the mood inside. She walked by his side without a word, letting him gather his thoughts. As they passed through the garden and into an orchard, the leaves rustled softly in the cool breeze.

Finally situated far enough from the house, Dare stopped and turned to her. “Darling, I know we’d hoped to leave today, but I can’t go now. I must speak to the doctor. I promise you, tomorrow we will leave here, regardless of the outcome. Then we can marry, if you’ll still have me.”

His tone was so grim her heart almost broke. “Of course I still want to marry you. More now than ever.” Squeezing his hand, she was shocked to find it cold and stiff. She cast a quick glance at the house, before pressing it to her lips—warming his skin as she soothed her soul. “You can join our family and never give yours a second thought.”

“Truly? I…I thought for certain you would run from here and never look back.”

She laughed. “Well, I will most assuredly be running, but not without you.”

“You are not scared that I will become like them? That their misery will become ours?”

Oh, he looked so forlorn, she could hardly stand it. She threw her arms around him and pulled him close. “My darling Dare, just the fact that you worry about it, makes half the battle won. You have spent time with my family and know how life can be. Have no fear, with love comes happiness. We will be fine.”

He turned his eyes to hers, and she saw the terror lurking within. But she held his gaze, willing him to understand. To believe. And the walls began to crumble. Hope appeared and his entire being relaxed. A smile began at the corners of his mouth and then echoed in his eyes as they crinkled in joy.

Suddenly she found herself twirling in the air. Dare was laughing and spinning and kissing her soundly on the lips. “Yes! My darling Nivea, I think you are right. I can put this behind me and become the man I should be. The man you deserve.” He put her back on the ground but did not stop kissing her. He trailed his lips down her jawline to her neck and heat flared in her belly.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to make you mine. Forever.”

How wonderful those words sounded. She reached her arms around his waist and pulled him close, craving his warmth, his scent. Him. When she looked into his handsome, precious face, she could see desire echoing in his obsidian eyes. Brazenly, she glanced around. Could they?

He laughed. “Not here, my love. Not now. Let us go back, finish with my father, and go home.”

Oh, how she loved the sound of that. She would finally have a home of her own. With Dare.

Walking back toward the house, hand in hand, she marveled at the beauty of the day. Near the garden wall was a clump of flowers. “Oh look, forget-me-nots. How odd that they would bloom this late in the season.” Reaching down, she plucked one and handed it to Dare. “Keep this with you. Perhaps it will give you serenity with your family.”

He took it and solemnly placed it in his pocket.

“I love you,” he said simply and escorted her back into the house.

Nivea sat in her room, idly twirling her pen as drops of ink splattered the blank parchment. Although she had thought to compose a poem, no words emerged. Her emotions were too jumbled to formulate thoughts. She longed to be home again, to begin the next chapter in her life with Dare. But all she could do was wait.

Taking out a clean sheet of paper, she began writing her name like a silly schoolgirl. It was a name she had practiced long ago, and now, her dream would come true.

Nivea Landis, Marchioness of Raynsforth

Lady Landis

Adair and Nivea Landis

Was it even possible? She wriggled with joy. Hearing a tap at the door, she balled up the paper and stuffed it into the drawer. “Yes?”

Emma entered, carrying a tray. “I have brought you some tea and biscuits. Would you like me to place them on the table?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.” She crossed over and selected a biscuit from the plate. Taking a nibble, she asked, “Is there any word on the marquess? Has he…?” She paused, unable to finish the question.

Emma poured the tea and handed her a cup. “Oh, no, the doctor said he’ll not die today. I heard a footman say Satan don’t want him yet. He is enjoying the show on earth far too much.”

“Emma!”

“Beggin’ your pardon, miss. That’s just what I heard.”

Nivea tried to hide her smile as she sipped the tea, but was certain she failed miserably. After all, she pretty much felt the same way.

“Will we be leaving soon? I don’t care too much for this house,” Emma whispered with a nervous glance, as though someone might be eavesdropping.

Nivea agreed, but thought it prudent to keep that to herself. “Yes, we should be leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“Very good, miss. I’ll begin the preparations.” She gave a quick curtsey and closed the door behind her.

Nivea carried her cup over to the window and sat down to watch the fading sun. A carriage was proceeding down the driveway, presumably taking the doctor home. A few moments later, a figure on a horse went streaking from the stables and across the field.

Dare.

Bowing low over the neck of his horse, his hair blowing in the wind, he was the picture of unrestrained energy. Powerful, masterful, and utterly enticing. A surge of desire ran through her, and Nivea knew she could not spend another night apart. She needed to be with him, feel his skin against hers, revel in his kisses.