Lord Suitor (13 page)

"Will
you accept my hand in marriage?"

What? Without anything else?
"No."

He
stood up and dusted down his knees, seemingly not one whit perturbed.
"Cruel."

"Oh
yes, my lord. Have you only just noticed?"
Did he even mean it? Already? That's not something I can ask outright.
Nevertheless, Tessa decided she'd have to find out somehow. If that was his
idea of a courtship, she was sadly disappointed. She bit her lip, hesitated for
a moment, and made her mind up. "So what next?"

"We
meet your parents. Eat luncheon and make polite conversation. Then, knowing
I've made today's offer and been rejected, I plot." Nat retook her arm,
and they resumed their walk.

"Today's?"
Tessa looked straight into his eyes.

They
twinkled as Nat grinned. "Of course today's. As a general, I know how
important strategy and planning are."

"What?"
Tessa stopped moving, and he raised one eyebrow. How she envied him that trick.
“You are wooing me in the same manner you plan a battle?" She didn't know
whether to laugh or stamp her foot on his boots. Hard. After she'd walked through
some mud and was sure she'd sully the leather as well as bruise his instep.
"You are
scheming
my
downfall."

"All
battles, be they military or seduction, need to be executed as best they
can." He kissed her nose.

Tessa
gasped, and he tapped her nose with his finger. "This will get you into
trouble one day. Do not ask questions if you don't wish to know the answer. I
do not dissemble, ever. Now as we're about to meet your parents, shall we
suspend hostilities? Act as if we don’t actively dislike each other."

"I
don't dislike you." Did she really look as if she did?

"Good,
nor I you. That's one point in my favor then."

Damn
the man, did he always have to have the last word?

Chapter Thirteen

Nat
looked at the litter of papers that decorated his desk and study floor. Who
would have thought writing four lines of poetry would be so hard? Byron managed
it, so why couldn't he?

His
final offering was, he decided, somewhat insipid, and certainly didn't rhyme,
but it did express his sentiments. He copied it out onto a sheet of velum
without any inkblots and crossing out, and sealed it with wax. It was one thing
trying to share his feelings with Tessa, another to share it with the world and
his wife. Once he'd checked the seal was secure, Nat addressed the wafer and
put it onto a salver for one of the footmen to collect and dispatch. However,
before he rang the bell to summon someone, he had a job to do. To whit, burn
all the rejected efforts.

The
resulting blaze was short lived but a relief. Nat stirred the embers until all the
remains of his hard work were in ashes, and then pulled the bell rope.

To
Nat's surprise, it wasn't a footman who entered on his command. It was Frost,
whose worried expression was enough to startle Nat. He left the fire, walked
over to Frost, and grabbed his arms.

"Albert,
what's the matter? You look as if you've lost a guinea and found a
farthing."

"In
a manner of speaking, we have. The gentlemen lost a full shipment last week.
They were intercepted on the beach at Sandler's Cove."

"Excise?"
Nat said.

Frost
shook his head. "We think not. Combe is certain he heard French spoken. He
knows an odd word. Well, living where we do, it would be hard not to."

Nat
opened his mouth to speak, but another knock on the door stopped him. He held
his hand up to Frost to ensure the other man stayed silent, and then spoke.

"Enter."

This
time it was the footman for Nat's letter. He handed it over. "It needs to
be delivered before the ball," he said, and the footman nodded. Nat waited
until the door closed once more before he turned back to Frost.

"So,
it seems I need to kick arses and knock heads together?" He poured two
glasses of claret and handed one to Frost." We need this, I think."
Nat gestured to Frost to occupy the chair in front of the desk before he took a
seat on the other side. "I'll arrange to come back tomorrow." It
would knock his plans out of kilter, but it couldn't be helped. If he didn't
sort the problem, neither he nor Theo might have anything to offer Tessa or
worse still, the people who relied on them. Nat sipped his drink, enjoying the
way the fiery liquid slid down his throat, as he contemplated his future—and
now complicated—plans.

Frost
tossed down the rest of his claret and stood. "Do you want me to wait for
you? If not, I'll be off. I'm not tired, and I have been assured there is a
fresh set of horses for the carriage and the coachmen have swapped at regular
intervals and are happy to start back."

Nat
noticed the tired eyes and the strain that showed on Frost's face. "What else?
What are you not telling me, Albert?"

Frost
sighed "I might know I can put nothing over you. Cubby was attacked."

"What?"

Nat
surged to his feet. Frost put his hand on his boss's shoulder. "Oh, he's
fine, just a shiner and a few bruised ribs. The black eye he now sports he
shows to all and sundry with pride. But he said to tell you it was and I'm
quoting now, 'That there cove who was afollering you.'"

Nat
had half risen. He sat down again with a thump. "You're sure he's not
badly hurt?" It hurt
him
to
think of Cubby injured.

"I
promise," Frost said earnestly. "Spitting mad, ready to trawl the
taverns looking for the man concerned, but nothing else. Don't worry, we've
told him you wouldn't like it. Those few words work wonders. And the missus had
extracted a promise he will do nothing without your or my say so. He gave it,
somewhat begrudgingly, I admit, but he has enough integrity to honor his promise.
Nevertheless, I feel I should get back, and not just for Cubby."

Nat
nodded. "Be that as it may, we will travel tomorrow together. You, so you
lose that drawn look and are able to protect us if necessary." Not that
Nat thought it would be necessary, but he was prepared to use any weapons at
his disposal. "And I? So I don't lose all hope on gaining a mistress for Fenniston.
Ask Mrs. Foulkes to make a bed for you. We'll leave at first light."

And
in between then and now he'd do his best to make sure Tessa missed him. Without
telling her where he'd gone. Not an easy job.

"Albert,
I'll be out this evening, but Mrs. Foulkes will see to all that is necessary."

All
Nat had to do was work out what to tell Tessa without alarming her and her parents.

In
the end, it was surprisingly easy. He met them at Lady Monkton's ball and
danced the waltz and the supper quadrille with Tessa, which, in the eyes of the
ton, was the maximum number of dances acceptable. Then he took Tessa into
supper and sat with her Sybille and Arthur and chatted about insignificant nothings.
If Tessa had received his missive, she said nothing with regards to his hard
thought out offering.

Once
they had finished eating, Arthur cleared his throat. "So are you going north
to sort out the stupidity of the who-know-not-one-iota, how to work with—and
not against—the hunt? Tell Roecram what to do and how, and explain we have to
control the foxes? Someone must, and I elect you. For I swear that man hasn't
the brains he was born with."

Nat
grabbed the topic gratefully. Frost had mentioned it, but also said Welham, the
kennel man, had everything under control. Now though, Arthur had handed Nat the
perfect excuse for his absence.

"I
fear I will have to." He turned to Tessa, and after a quick look to see
who was watching—no one—gave into temptation and stroked her cheek. She gasped
but to his pleasure leaned into his caress.

"I'm
sorry. I was going to broach the subject later." Nat resisted the urge to
turn his head and kiss her. That would be beyond the pale. "It is a necessity,
I promise you. Our neighbor is kindly meant, but addlepated, and his hedges are
a shambles. You could drive a phaeton and four through some places and be
caught for a sennight by thorns in others. He also hasn't the first idea about
the hunt and its importance to the community. To be fair, he's lived all his
life elsewhere, and is eager to learn, but it's taking longer than anyone
anticipated to get common sense and husbandry to sink in. The last thing we
need are horses and hounds cut to shreds on hedges and fences." It was a
slight exaggeration but not much. "Or Mr. Fox to escape and raid another
chicken coop."

To
his delight Tessa looked disappointed, even though she masked it quickly. "Then
of course you must go. I'll no doubt see you on your return."

"No
doubt at all." Nat drew her away from their supper companions and walked
her onto the terrace where a few other couples were enjoying the warm evening
air. He gently steered her toward one end, where there were fewer sconces—and
fewer people. Then he ambled slowly down three steps to the grass and drew her
close. "Whilst I'm gone, remember this."

He
truly hadn't intended their embrace to be anything more than a gentle kiss,
just to show her he meant what he said. But as he cupped her chin with his
hands and his mouth met hers, Tessa parted her lips. And Nat couldn't resist
the urge to thrust his tongue through the gap to tease and demand more. Her
scent of lavender and woman beguiled him and taunted his senses. It wasn't
enough. Nat was too much of a gentleman to take what he knew damn well she had
no idea she was offering, but a taster would be in order surely? Whether it was
or not, he had to indulge himself, just a little bit.

Tessa
closed her eyes and swayed closer to him. It was the encouragement Nat needed.
He gave into that further temptation and moved forward until their bodies
touched. Of course his staff reacted oh so predictably and lengthened and
stiffened under his evening breeches.

Tessa
gasped and pressed closer and then to his agonized delight began to rub herself
back and forth on his engorged cock.

She
closed her eyes and sighed. "Oh my."

Nat
moved one hand to her arse, to hold her close, and to his great pleasure, she
stood on tiptoe and wriggled so his pego teased her mound.

It
was too arousing for comfort. Nat gave in to one last squeeze of the soft globe
of her arse and slowly moved backward and broke the kiss. Tessa moaned, opened
her eyes, and blinked.

"Ah,
I thought..." Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed heavily. "I
must say, I thought...your poetry was...oh so...perfe..." She swallowed
once more. The ripple of her skin over her throat was to Nat's mind erotic and
arousing.

Oh, I have the need for her so
very badly.

"You
thought?" he prompted her.

Tessa
shook her head. "It... No, nothing." She ran her hand over her eyes
and smiled. "We had better go inside before we are missed."

"And
accused of doing something we shouldn't," Nat said, as with a pat on her
arse, he encouraged her back up the steps to the terrace.

"We
did do something we shouldn't," Tessa said. "Very nicely."

That
was a positive sign. "We could do a lot more if you wished," Nat
said.

They
reached the doors that led back into the ballroom. Tessa stopped and looked up
at him.

"What
I wish, what I wonder, and what is welcome in the eyes of the tabbies do not
coincide." She sounded very depressed by her thoughts. "Ah well, such
is the life of an unmarried woman."

"We
could make you a married one," Nat said.

Tessa
rolled her eyes. "And then I'd be even more constrained by ties and regulations.
I thank you no. Shall we count that as tomorrow's proposal?" And the last
one needed, her tone indicated.

"Will
you marry me, will you marry me, will you marry me," Nat said rapidly.
"Take those as my proposals for the next week or so."

"And
no, no, no, no, and no. Take that as your answers."

Nat
shook his head. "You said no more times than I asked you."

"Then
you have some in reserve, my lord."

How
he enjoyed their thrusts and parries, even if they didn't end in the result he
desired.

"Woman,
you'll be the death of me. My pego will shrivel and my stones fall off."

"How
sad. And nowhere near as descriptive as your poetry. Nevertheless it is not my
problem."

"It
will be if we wed and I cannot service you satisfactorily."

Tessa's
mouth dropped open, and for once she seemed lost for words.

"So,
it's in your hands, my dear." Did he really hear her say, "Sadly, no,
it isn't?"

"Well,
my lord. I'll just wish you a safe journey."

Nat
gathered his scattered wits and bowed over her hand. "Thank you, my lady.
Never fear. I'll be as back as soon as I can."

"I
don't fear," Tessa said.

"May
I hope you look forward to my return?"

She
tilted her head to one side, as if in consideration. "Well, you can hope.
Whether I will remains to be seen, my lord. Now perhaps we should return to
inside." It wasn't a question, and with more reluctance than he thought he
had, Nat acquiesced.

*****

It
was during the semidarkness of predawn when he and Albert set off. The sky was
lightening in the east, and the air was already hinting of a warm and pleasant
day. The best sort for traveling. If he'd been alone, with just his groom for
company, Nat would have ridden. He had enough riding horses stabled along the
route to make it feasible. However, as Frost had arrived in a coach, it made
sense to return in it. But the slowness chafed.

By
the time they crossed the Exe outside Exeter, Nat was heartily sick of the
lumbering form of transport, and his coach was not only well sprung, but
considered to be one of the most up-to-date on the roads. How he would have
felt in an accommodation coach or traveling by post he hardly dare think. Ready
to commit harm, no doubt.

"Shall
we push on?" They'd stopped not many miles before their present position the
previous night, due to a torrential rainstorm that had made the roads a
quagmire. That morning the sun had done its job, and while the verges weren't
solid, the road was easily negotiable. "We can be home before
dinner."

Frost
nodded. "I like the idea."

Nat
rapped on the roof in a complicated series of knocks. Frost raised one eyebrow
in, Nat supposed, query, but he was too aware of his position to ask what they
meant.

Nat
took pity on the man. "Scott was my batman in the Peninsula. We have a
series of signs to warn each other of what is needed. That means home, and in
the best way possible."

Indeed
the coach picked up speed as they reached the Fenniston side of the river.

"I
imagine it was helpful at times."