Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman (14 page)

But there was no turning back. Gregory needed her, and perhaps this man needed a disappointment or two to prove to him he wasn't fatal to every woman he met.

Inside the closed carriage Charity realized that they would be in very close proximity during the trip to his home.

She searched desperately for a topic of conversa-

tion to break the intent blue gaze that seemed to be penetrating her soul.

"You have said some members of your family will be at dinner?"

"Yes, actually all of my immediate family. My mother spends a month or two a year here with me and the balance of the time with my sister. Kat will be there too"he smiled"and dragging her away from court is a feat in itself."

"Kat?"

"Pet name. Her name is Katherine, but she's been Kat to me since childhood."

"She's married?"

"She was. Her husband died three years ago."

"Oh, how terrible." Charity bent toward him. "Are there children?"

"One, my niece. She is going to be the heartbreaker her mother is. She already has my mother and me wrapped about her little fingers."

"A heartbreaker?" Charity laughed softly. "Will she take lessons from her uncle?"

"A heartbreaker? My lady, I must put the lie to any rumors you may have heard."

"I was always told there has to be a touch of flame wherever one scents smoke."

"By your mother, I presume?" Noah's smile faded when he realized that in some way Charity had left him. She had closed a part of herself away like the petals of a flower furling in upon itself.

"I'm afraid," she said quietly, "that I never knew my mother."

"I'm sorry. Charity, I didn't mean to hurt you." He

was cognizant of the fact that this was the first personal glimpse he had gotten into her life since they had met. For a strange reason it filled him with a sense of protectiveness.

"Tell me about your niece," Charity said with a forced smile. Noah knew there had been a door closed between them. A door he meant to open again.

He told her of his niece, five-year-old Elizabeth, with her long ebony hair and violet eyes, of her charm and her mischievous nature. As he warmed to his subject, Charity watched him closely, trying to match this man, so obviously filled with love for a five-year-old child, with the scoundrel and blackmailer she knew him to be. It was like the piece of a puzzle that didn't fit no matter how she turned it about.

When the carriage turned up the drive, Charity could see the house. All the windows blazed with light.

At the door they were welcomed by his butler, Stevens, who took Charity's cloak. Noah could read his face well, despite the fact that Stevens had learned from long years in Noah's employ to remain impassive. He smiled at Stevens and winked, at which Stevens looked highly offended and walked away.

When Noah escorted Charity within, it was to find only his mother and sister there. The rest of the guests had yet to arrive.

"Charity, may I present my mother, Lady Morgan, and my sister, Lady Stonecrest. Mother, Kat, this is Charity Gilbert, our newest and I hope permanent neighbor."

Charity could see at once where Noah had gotten

his golden coloring and his mane of black hair. His Spanish ancestry was obvious in Sofia. His blue eyes were the same cobalt color as his mother's.

"How do you do, Miss Gilbert?" Sofia's voice was gentle and she kept her surprise to herself. This was not the usual sort of woman that Noah had brought around, and she liked the way he looked at her. While all the experienced ladies of the court had never truly captured Noah's attention for any length of time, this child seemed to hold a fascination for him.

If Sofia was aware of this, Kathy was even more so. She had worried over her brother for years and had watched him immerse himself in court intrigue long enough. She thought Charity much less of a child than her mother did. She had just the right innocence to capture Noah, who would laugh and play with a woman of easy virtue, but who was entirely out of his element with a woman who did not use pretense, guile, and other devious methods to get a man into her bed.

"Noah," Sofia said as she patted the seat beside her for Charity to sit, "you did not tell us how pretty she was. Miss Gilbert, are your parents here as well? I really must call on them."

"I'm afraid that except for my cousin Beth, I am quite alone at Stafford Hall," Charity replied. "I . . . I have no other family."

"Oh, how dreadful," Kathy said quickly. "Then you must come to visit often."

"And you must come to Stafford Hall. Noah has told me about your daughter. She sounds enchanting.

It would be a pleasure for me to have all of you for lunch one day soon."

"So, Noah has told you of my little minx. You might not be so enchanted once we loose her on you," Kathy chuckled.

"No, oh no, I should love to have you. You have no idea how good it would be to hear a child's laughter in my house."

"Then I shall bring her along and we will see how long you last before you scream for help."

Noah was glad Charity's attention was on his sister because at her words an astonishing picture had blossomed in his mind: Charity, her blond hair loose about her, a warm and sated look on her face as if she had come from the warmth of bed, and a child on her lap . . . his child! The sudden thought left him breathless.

He could not believe himself. She couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty, and he had passed his twenty-ninth year. She was a child, an innocent child, and he was a man who had seen too much to believe there was anything new and exciting left to discover.

He allowed the conversation to flow around him for a while until it was interrupted by the arrival of new guests.

Sir Ralph Waite and his wife Cynthia were the first, followed within minutes by Lord Murry Jemmison and his wife Evelyn. Next came Sir Giles St. John who was accompanied by his sister Margaret St. John.

Obviously the guests were long-time friends of the Morgans, because the atmosphere was one of warmth and welcome. Noah was pleased to see how

well Charity seemed to fit, both in his home and in the midst of his family.

If Charity was fighting anything, it was the continual battle between what she believed of Noah and what she could see.

She needed Gregory. She needed him to tell her what was true and what was a charade. She lost track of what Kathy was saying to her because she had sensed Noah's eyes on her and had turned to look at him. Again she felt the magnetism in the depths of his blue eyes.

She was held by it until a new look came over his face. If she hadn't thought it unbelievable, she would have sworn it was a look both of furious anger and deep burning hatred.

She followed his gaze to the doorway, and saw framed within the polished wood portal . . . Gregory Hamilton.

Chapter Seven

Charity looked from Gregory to Noah, whose face had regained its composure and bore a smile that she would never have called pleasant. It was the smile of a predator when he had found his prey.

All the things Gregory had told her about Noah came flooding back into her mind. She had been gullible. She had fallen under Noah Morgan's charm as Gregory had warned her she might. She had almost allowed herself to fail Gregory because she was naive enough to believe that this charming Noah, in the bosom of his equally charming family, was to be taken at face value. She felt as if she had betrayed Gregory, and decided to assure him at the first possible moment that she was going to fulfill her mission at any cost.

As Charity was introduced to each person, she tried

to maintain a casual dignity. She could feel her hand tremble in Gregory's when he spoke to her and smiled at her politely. She fought to keep recognition from her eyes.

Gregory held her hand tightly for a brief moment, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, meeting her eyes with no sign of recognition in his.

''It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gilbert. Noah has never revealed he had a charming creature such as yourself as his neighbor. Had they known, I'm sure half the court would have come stampeding."

"Thank you." Charity smiled warmly to make sure Gregory knew how grateful she was that he was there.

Watching them, Noah felt a sudden piercing jealousy that shocked him. It was an emotion to which he was not accustomed.

Charity understood why Gregory paid much more attention to Kathy during the rest of the evening than to her. He couldn't afford to have it look as if they had known each other before. She understood, but she didn't like it. She also had the vague feeling that Kathy didn't like it either, even though she was polite.

Though he was engaged in conversation with Kathy, who sat beside him, Charity, who sat opposite him, could see his shift of attention when Giles St. John spoke to Noah.

"I say, Noah, I forgot to tell you. There's a new rumor flying about."

"There is nothing new about rumors," Noah replied with an amused smile.

"There is when they talk about assassinations," Giles replied firmly.

"Assassinations," Mrs. Waite gasped. "Now, Giles, I've never heard such a thing."

"Madam"Giles smiled"I shouldn't expect you had. It's been bandied about in the local taverns."

Cynthia Waite appeared both properly shocked and just as obviously interested.

"I'm afraid such talk has always buzzed around the taverns," Noah said, trying to brush it off lightly.

"Not when the name mentioned is so close to the crown," Murry Jemmison said quietly.

"Just who is the intended victim?" Noah asked.

"Lord Charles Brandywine," Murry replied.

"Impossible." Noah's voice clearly expressed controlled anger.

"Why impossible?" Giles questioned.

"Because assassins need a cause, and Charles is popular with the royal house and most of the people. He's done too much good for too many."

"It seems," Gregory said, "that there are some he is not popular with."

Noah's eyes snapped in Gregory's direction, and he seemed to be struggling to restrain a sharp reply. Instead he found control and smiled.

"Do you not suppose that Charles is aware of those who don't agree with some of the policies he's set before the queen?" Noah asked. "Do you not suppose that, as much as he has his detractors, he has his friends? We must presume these friends are just as active as his enemies."

"I would not doubt it for a moment." Gregory smiled. "Noah, you are one of his closest friends, are you not?"

"I'm proud to say I am."

"I would think it most difficult to trace such a rumor . . . to run the conspirators down," Gregory suggested.

"Most difficult." Noah smiled again. "So much for rumors." He stood. "I propose a toast," he said as he lifted his goblet of wine. "To Lord Charles Brandy-wine. May the conspirators against him be confounded."

"Here, here," Giles agreed with a smile.

"Speaking of court, Noah," Kathy said, "When are you coming back? There have been many inquiring about your return."

"Many," Giles chuckled. "You left a lot of broken hearts when you decided to chuck it and hide yourself down here."

"Did your departure have anything to do with an invitation to a masquerade ball?" Gregory inquired, and Noah turned a frigid glance his way.

"I believe the Duke of Claymond and his wife will be returning to court soon," Sofia said and accepted her son's half smile as a reward. "You didn't know, Noah? I'm afraid"she smiled at Gregory"that the comings and goings of the duke and duchess are not as important to Noah as you must believe. Of course, when you listen to gossip, it often has a way of being disappointing."

Noah lifted his glass and drank, Kathy smiled, and Sofia looked innocently content.

The dinner remained pleasant from that moment on, and after some coaxing, Kathy agreed to play the pianoforte.

Charity was walking to the music room when Greg-

ory moved up beside her. She felt a folded piece of paper being thrust into her hand and she grasped it quickly. While Kathy played, Charity drifted to a window. There, with her back to the others, she quickly unfolded the note and read.

. . . As far as my information tells me, the letters could have been in his possession when he left London. It is hard to tell if they are at the family townhouse in London or here. Do your best to find them. Our future depends on it.

Slowly Charity tore the note into very tiny pieces. Then she opened the window a crack and put her hand out to let them flutter in the breeze.

"Kat has played better." Noah's voice came from so close behind her that she gasped at the sound of it. "If you're bored, perhaps the carriage ride home will make you feel better. The night is beautiful."

"I'm not bored," Charity replied. "Just a bit tired. I've developed a bit of a headache. Maybe it is time to go."

Noah was actually the one who wanted to go. He'd seen Charity walk to the window and had followed her purely out of habit. He couldn't see what she'd thrown out the window, but just the action was a surprise.

He was certain she knew nothing about the conversation at the table, and he needed time both to apologize for it and to make certain she would put it from her mind.

But something else troubled him. Charity was dif-

ferent than she had been when he'd first come for her. He didn't know in what way, but he had seen her close herself off just as she had when they had spoken of her mother. He was curious to know what had caused that change.

Charity might be too young and inexperienced to recognize it, but Noah knew the beginnings of passion. He had seen it in her eyes that brief moment at the ball and again when they had met beneath the trees. He had seen it and meant to do everything in his power to waken it again.

Something old and long forgotten had stirred to life when he held her and tasted the sweet softness of her mouth. He intended to find it again, to measure its power, and to hold it for as long as he could.

Noah sent for his carriage while Charity made her apologies to the guests, professing a severe headache.

"I'm so sorry you feel ill," Sofia said. "I shall call on you tomorrow with a remedy of my own mother's in case your headache is not gone."