Son of a Duke (15 page)

"Jane talks entirely too much,"
 
Nora said, standing.

"Yes, she does, and we love her for it."
 
Nathan stood.
 

"It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mr. Black."
 
Nora stood as well, extending a hand.
 

She did not wear her white gloves, and the red patches of dry skin on her hand had him pausing before reaching for it, afraid he would hurt her.
 
He looked up only to notice she was not looking at him, but that she was looking beyond him at a spot over his shoulder, in the direction of the only window in the room.
 

"Nathan, I think someone is watching us."
 

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nathan cupped the side of Nora's face before instinct turned her head.
 
He stepped closer and bent his head, so that whoever was watching saw an intimate embrace and not a stealthily held conversation.
 
He slid his arm around Nora's waist, both enjoying the sensation and fearing she may collapse on him.
 
Instead, he was delightfully surprised to find her leaning in, putting her hands on his chest.
 

"I want you to look around me without turning your head.
 
Tell me what the person looks like," Nathan whispered against her ear.
 

He felt Nora's lashes flutter against his cheek as her eyes changed direction.
 

"He is...small.
 
I can see one of his hands, and it looks almost delicate.
 
His face is hidden by a big cap.
 
It is flopping in his face.
 
There is red hair coming out from under it.
 
His coat is shabby.
 
Stained.
 
That is all I can see."
 
She turned her head, unknowingly nestling it in the side of his neck.
 
"You are in the way."
 

Nathan forced his grinding teeth apart.
 
"All right.
 
Nora, I am going to change our positions a bit.
 
I do not want you to be frightened.
 
I just want to get a view of the window.
 
I am not going to hurt you."
 

"I know," was all that she said.
 

Her breath stole across the underside of his chin, and his mind worked not to curl his hand tighter into the fabric at her back to pull her closer.
 
And then she snuggled into him, both bracing herself for what he was going to do and sending a tingle that went straight to his toenails and back to the tips of his ears.
 

He swung her around, sat in the chair and pulled her onto his lap.
 
He put a hand at the back of her neck and pulled her head down, so his lips met her ear.
 

"Are you all right, Nora?"
 

"Yes."
 
Her voice was small but steady.
 
She was much too light in his lap, and he wondered if an inability to sleep came with an inability to eat.

He pivoted his head, bringing his lips to the point where her jaw met her neck.
 
He ignored the sweet smell of her hair and lingering scent of lemons, and he ignored the urge to open his mouth, just a little, to steal a taste.
 
Almost.
 
He belatedly remembered to open his eyes and look toward the window without looking like he was looking.
 
The knot of Nora's hair blocked the bottom corner of the window, preventing him from seeing whoever was spying on them.
 
The knot would have to go.
   

He speared his fingers upward, sending pins flying.
 
The white cap slid off the top of her head and disappeared somewhere in the direction of the floor.
 
Nora jerked as Nathan froze.
 

He cradled the back of her head and whispered in her ear, "It is all right.
 
Your hair was in the way."
 

His other hand stroked her back as her muscles eventually unwound.
 
He flicked his glance toward the window.
 

The spy was indeed wearing a floppy hat that hid his face.
 
One hand gripped the window ledge, probably holding the man up.
 
It was delicate, almost fine, and the hair escaping the hat looked almost wispy.
 
He looked like a she.
 

Nathan buried his face in Nora's hair momentarily, and then forgot that he was doing it only as cover because the smell of it had sucked him in.
 
Soap.
 
It smelled like soap, and he had never smelled anything more intoxicating in his life.
 

Nora made a soft whimpering sound, and Nathan's heart stopped.
 
He did not dare move or speak for fear that he would continue to hurt her.
 
And then Nathan decided he was going to kill whoever had hurt her before.
 

But the figure at the window moved.
 
He looked over his shoulder as if calling to someone and dropped from the ledge, disappearing from sight.
 

Had Nathan been a gentleman, he would have released Nora immediately and separated her from him.
 
Had Nathan been a good spy, he would have bolted from the room to follow the man who had been spying on them.
 
But because Nathan was decidedly not a gentleman and currently did not feel like being a good spy, he did none of those things.
 
He kept his arms around Nora and his face in her hair.
 
She had relaxed again, sagging more now against his arm.
 

Nathan ran his hand along the back of her neck, brought it forward to the soft skin under her chin, and let it drop.
 
He eased her up to see her face.
 
Her eyes were open, and he knew that she was seeing him.
 
Her hair was around her shoulders making her face look thinner than it was.
 
He picked up a few strands and drew them behind her shoulder.
 

"Are you all right?"
 

She nodded, still staring.
 

"He is gone," he said slowly, drawing out the moment unnecessarily.
 
"We can stand up now."
 

She did not move so neither did he.
 
They watched each other.
 
The silence began to ring in his ears.
 
He wondered if he should move, maybe help her to stand up, but then he wondered if he really wanted her to stand up.
 
If they stood up, she would think it was goodbye, and for all circumstances, it probably was.
 
But he did not feel like saying goodbye, so he sat instead.
 

And then Nora leaned forward.
 

His heart moved, abruptly and none too steadily, into the region of his spleen, and she kept coming at him.
 
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his.
 
The angle was awkward and shy.
 
Their noses bumped and kept him from getting closer.
 
She did not deepen the touch, but then he doubted she even knew how.
 
So he closed his eyes, brought his hands up to her face and augmented the angle, bringing her in closer.
 
Her lips parted at the movement, and the blood drained from his head.
 

He sank.
 

~

Holy God, she was kissing him.
 

It was only the second time in her life that she had taken any of the courage that she had and put it into some sort of action.
 
The first time had landed her in London with nothing but a suitcase and a will to find employment.
 
She had been a young girl, completely unknowing in what she was about to embark on, and yet, the moment she had stepped off the train at King's Cross, she had felt nary a fear.
 
She was concerned, and she was aware.
 
She knew what she was doing would take confidence and determination.
 
Those were two things she had had in spades when she was seventeen.
 
But life had worn on her since then.
 
Her confidence ran strong but only in select areas.
 
Her determination was much the same.
 
It tended to only push her when it came to her position and her son.
 
She would be a good housekeeper, so she could provide for Samuel.
 
And she would be a good mother, so Samuel could have a life she had never had the opportunity to even dream about.
 

And now when her courage had propelled her into another unknown, it was not confidence and determination she felt.
 
It was naked fear.
 
She realized most of the fear came from an unworthy sense of history repeating itself.
 
She had seen men treating women with respect in regards to relations.
 
Lord Gregenden exhibited it to the oblivious Lady Gregenden nearly everyday.
 
Even Hawkins doted on Cook with a flair he committed to nothing else, and they were not even wed.
 
It was like something out of a Fielding novel.

 
But flashes of her past licked at the back of her memory, and she pushed at it, willing the fear to ebb.
 
She would grasp what was in her reach now, and she would see where her courage would take her.
 

And besides, she liked it.
 

At least she thought she liked it, liked kissing Nathan Black.
 

She was concentrating so hard on not doing something ridiculous that she was not really sure what she was feeling.
 
She knew she did not want him to stop, so that must mean that she liked what he was doing.
 
But she kept her hands on his shoulders and her head at the angle he wanted it in and didn't move.
 
She was good at not moving.
 
Right now seemed like a time to do something at which she had some skill.
 

But maybe he wanted her to move.
 

She had in the past accidentally, and not accidentally, come upon people engaged in torrid embraces and most of the times the woman had been moving.
 
The woman also had been making weird noises that Nora knew she would never know how to make nor would she probably want to make such noises.
 
But what if Nathan wanted her to make those noises?
 
What if Nathan wanted her to move in some way?
 
What if she was doing everything wrong?
 

And then she did freeze.
 
And then she realized she froze.
 
And then it was too late to unfreeze without Nathan noticing.
 
And then Nathan was easing her back.
 
The connection of their lips severed, making her shudder at the loss.
 

She licked her lips and said the only thing that was going through her mind, "Please do not stop."
 

She did not want to open her eyes, but Nathan did not say anything.
 
She needed to see him.
 
She needed to see what he was thinking or feeling.
 
She needed to see if he smirked at her and her awkwardness.
 
She let her eyelids flutter open, her chest rigid with her held breath.

His eyes were open and clear, and he watched her with a gentleness she had never seen in the eyes of another before then.
 
His face was relaxed, his expression contemplative.
 
His hands had loosened their grip on her, and she realized she was holding herself in his lap, leaning into him with a carefree assurance she did not feel but apparently knew without conscious effort.
 

"Have you ever been kissed before, Nora?"
 

She had not expected him to speak, and as she had just begged him to keep kissing her as if she were some tart that had been cast from the enclave of Almack's, she found the question an odd one.
 
She thought on the answer for but a second and mentally stopped her thoughts from proceeding.
 
There had been an instance when she had been kissed, but it had not been of her choosing.
 
She must have made some kind of move or gesture, because Nathan's hands suddenly tightened.
 

"I beg your pardon," he said quickly then, and she watched the corners of his mouth turn down and his eyes crinkle in concern.

She did not like seeing him thusly, and she blurted out the only thing she could think of to remove such an expression from his handsome face.
 

"It is not your fault, Nathan," she said, an answer so obscure even she could not think of what she was removing him from blame.
 

She rushed on as if a profusion of words would clear up the issue.
 

"Something...happened once, and I...well, it was not..."she sounded like an idiot.
 
"Nathan, it's-"

"I know," he said, cutting off her words.
 

Nora had been studying the knotting of his cravat, trying to find words that would convey what she needed to without having to say anything at all on the subject, but she looked up then and met his dark blue gaze.
 
She felt herself pitch forward as if pulled into the comfort she saw there, but she had not moved a single muscle.
 
Her breath slowed in her lungs, and her hands curled into the fabric of Nathan's coat.
 
She wanted to ask him what he meant, but she did not need to.
 
She knew what he meant even without asking, and she would not disrespect him by evading the truth in his words.
 
She nodded then, just slightly, as if to encapsulate everything that was reeling through her mind.