The Fortune Hunter (33 page)

“Are you unhurt? Damn, how could you be so stupid?” The voice and the anger were both endearingly familiar, and she opened her eyes to see Hamilton's face, which was as grey as his eyes that flashed with fury.

Her knees threatened to buckle, and she reached out to clutch his arms, then halted her hands. To touch him—especially at that moment when every nerve was so raw—would undo her completely.

“The least you could do,” he snapped, “is to say that you are sorry for scaring nigh to a year off my life!”

“I am sorry.” She could force her voice no louder than a whisper as she swayed.

Hamilton cursed and caught her before she could fall. “Blast it, Nerissa, what would you do if I wasn't about to save you?”

“I would not need saving if you didn't drive at such a speed along this busy street.”

When he chuckled, she opened her eyes to see his scintillating smile. “You
are
unhurt, for you flay me most fiercely with words when you are in a snit.”

“I am
not
in a snit.” She started to ease out of his arms, but they refused to release her. “Hamilton, we are on the street.”

“I know that.” He put his lips against her bonnet as he whispered, “And I know I can go no longer without you in my bed.”

“Hamilton, I …” She started to laugh as he affixed an angelic expression on his face. The false humility would not have bamboozled anyone. When he joined in her laughter, she added, “You shall never change.”

“You are wrong, my sweet.” He stepped back and locked his hands behind his dark coat. “I would like to give you an opportunity to prove how wrong you are and let you own to that mistake this evening, if you would consent to be my guest for dinner.”

“I would be delighted to—”

“Miss Dufresne, your brother might be arriving tonight,” Frye said, annoyance returning to her voice. “What would he think if you were not there to greet him?”

Nerissa pulled her gaze away from Hamilton's smile. She had forgotten that her abigail stood behind her. With a sigh, she said, “Frye is correct. If Cole returns tonight, he will be anxious to share his news of his journey to London.”

“Bring him with you.”

“He will be exhausted, Lord Windham,” Frye said in her most repressive accents. “I am sure you can understand that after your recent sojourn to Town.” She flashed Nerissa a glance as if she was proud of bringing the reminder of Mrs. Howe into the conversation.

“Mayhap I should decline.” Nerissa sighed silently, wishing she could ask Hamilton what he meant by his cryptic words.

His thumb grazed her jaw as he tilted her face upward. “Nerissa, we need to speak together.”

“I know, but it must wait.”

“I am not sure I can wait. Do you know that you have made me queer in the attic with longings which would put you to the blush if I was so brazen to speak of them on the walkway?”

“I have thought endlessly of you,” she breathed, knowing that to be false when he touched her was as inconceivable as not thinking of him. When she raised her hand toward his face, not caring that they stood in public view, her arm was grasped.

She whirled to see Frye's scowl, which transformed her face into a furious mask. “Come along, Miss Dufresne. You do not want to have your brother arrive home before you.”

“Frye, he cannot enter the house without us seeing him.”

“Miss Dufresne!”

“Go along with your comb-brush, who is trying to brush you away from me.” Hamilton grinned, but Frye's frown pulled her face into deeper ruts. Bowing his head toward them, he went on, “I shall call tomorrow, Nerissa. Mayhap a bit early, so we may have some time for conversation that is not laced with recriminations and thwarted desires. As tomorrow is Wednesday, I collect that you will have your usual at home.”

“She may not,” Frye snapped.

“I will,” Nerissa said tautly. Pulling her arm out of Frye's chubby hand, she smiled at Hamilton before turning to continue along the walkway with her abigail. She looked back to see him standing alone by his carriage. The anguish in her heart matched what she had seen in his eyes.

Frye wasted no time lambasting Nerissa for lacking sense. As they entered the house, she said, “I thought you had seen reason when you rid yourself of Lord Windham upon our return from the country. Now, when he comes home by weeping cross—most falsely, too, if you wish my opinion—you flirt with him on the street as if you were the cheapest wench. Can't you see that he intends to be your ruin?”

“You would find fault with a fat goose!” Nerissa shot back. “Lord Windham is my friend.” She almost stumbled on the words, which were no longer the truth, but continued gamely. “I do not like being told that I cannot speak to a friend while out on my errands.”

Frye put her packages on a bench in the foyer. “You must own that you consider him far more than a cap acquaintance.”

“Of course, but, Frye, you should not listen to the poker-talk. Hamilton is a gentleman.”
Even when we are in his bed
, she thought, for she could imagine no lover more gentle than Hamilton. She silenced the rebellious beat of her heart as she eagerly recalled his enticing touch.

“If your mother was still alive, she would give me my absence without leave for allowing you to go about with no
duenna
other than Miss Ehrlich, who clearly was too interested in Lord Windham's brother to pay much mind to anything else.” Frye fiercely untied the ribbons on her bonnet. “Gull that I am, I thought you would be immune to his charm after he brought that dasher to Bath.”

Nerissa said, “I told you that I do not want Mrs. Howe mentioned in this house. I—” She halted herself as she saw a shadow moving on the upper floor. “Cole!”

She ran up the steps to embrace her brother. When he drew quickly away, she recalled how he disliked such shows of affection.

“It is grand to see you again, Nerissa,” he said.

“I was thinking much the same.” She laughed lightly. “Let me look at you! It seems as if it has been an eternity since I last saw you.”

London had created little outward change in her brother. As she had seen him so often when he rose in the morning or after hours of working in his book room, his shirtends hung out of his breeches, and his stockings belonged to two parishes, for one was a creamy white and the other a nubby brown. The only alteration might be a few extra pounds he had added while away.

“I have so many things to tell you, and you must have even more to tell me,” she went on. “But you first. How did your trip go?”

“Instead of me telling you, let me show you,” he said with a grin.

“Show me what?”

“My backers.” His grin stretched his full face.

“You have backers?” She gripped his arm. “That is wonderful!”

He led the way down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Nerissa arched an eyebrow at Frye, who was watching in disbelief. Neither of them had ever seen her brother so animated. His journey clearly had been a success. She was glad she had not signed the papers for Hill's End.

Opening the door to the parlor, which she had not noticed was closed, he called, “Hadfield, did you bring that brandy to toast our return?”

Nerissa tensed. She had forgotten that when Cole came back to Bath, Hadfield would also. This was sure to signify a return to his disruptive tales and troublesome ways belowstairs.

Hadfield was not the only person in the parlor. Two people were standing by the hearth, warming themselves after the long trip from Town. They had their backs to her. The man was as broad-shouldered as Hamilton, but his body was thick with age. Grey tinted his hair which was cut stylish to brush the nape of his high collar. His stylish rust-colored coat was covered with the dust that dimmed the polish of his boots. The golden-haired woman's dark green spenser was frosted with dirt. When the door to the street opened to reveal two lads bringing in a heavy trunk and a portmanteau, she was shocked that Cole's backers must be staying with them.

Why had he failed to tell her that? She had expected that they would find suitable lodgings at the Sydney Hotel at the end of Great Pulteney Street. Glancing back into the foyer, she motioned to a serving lass. She whispered hurried instructions to have Mrs. Carroll have two rooms.… Were their guests husband and wife? No matter. It was better to have two rooms freshened and prepared for Mr. Pilcher's friends. With a curtsy, the lass rushed to obey.

Cole looked past his guests to smile at Nerissa. “My friends, come and meet my sister. Nerissa, this is Sir Jerrold Cathcart.”

The tall man turned, his eyes widening along with his smile. He grabbed her hand and bowed over it. “This is indeed a pleasure, Miss Dufresne. A great, great pleasure.”

“Thank you,” she said, overmastered by the flood of emotion in his incredibly deep voice. “I am as pleased to meet you and …”

Nerissa's voice faded as she looked past the baronet to his companion. Hearing words, as if from the opposite side of a field, she stared at a face she had hoped never to see again.

“No need for an introduction, my dear Cole. Your stepsister and I have already met.” Elinor Howe offered her a cool smile as she slipped her arm through Cole's. “How do you do, Nerissa?”

Chapter Nineteen

Feeling all at sea, Nerissa did not move. The echo of her words to Frye taunted her. She had not wanted to hear Elinor Howe's name. Now the blonde had somehow inveigled her way into Cole's life. In desperation, she looked to her brother. His smile, however, was fading as he aimed a glower at her like she had seldom seen on his plump face. Knowing he could not understand her reluctance to greet Mrs. Howe, he must be ready to fly off the hooks at her.

Nerissa dampened her lips. “Mrs. Howe, welcome back to Bath.”

“My dear,” the older woman said, “you must call me ‘Elinor'. After all, we shall be getting to know each other very well.”

Ignoring Elinor's triumphant smile, Nerissa turned to the baronet. “I hope your trip to Bath was without incident, Sir Jerrold.”

Cathcart caught her hand again and bent over it as he raised it to his lips. With a boyish grin, he said, “I would say any discomfort was worth the delight of finding such a paragon at the end of our journey. Pilcher, you have been wise to hide your sister. You must bring her with us to Town when we return. I know dear Elinor would enjoy firing her off, and mayhap I could convince my sister to get you an invitation to Almack's, Miss Dufresne. Then you could have your pick of the young bucks who will be clamoring to leg-shackle themselves to the sister of England's most wealthy canal builder.” He dug his elbow into Cole's side. “Maybe get yourself a duke or a marquess for a brother-in-law, eh? One of them would not be averse to marrying a commoner when she stands to have as much money as all of us soon shall have.”

“I think that is a fabulous inspiration,” purred Elinor. “I would be happy to find Nerissa the perfect husband.”

“Miss Dufresne, may I interrupt for a moment?”

At Frye's cool question, Nerissa wanted to fling her arms around her abigail and thank her for rescuing her from this impossible situation. Struggling to keep her own voice serene, Nerissa asked, “What is it, Frye?”

“A small matter. It should not take long, but it needs your attention.”

“Run along,” said Cole with a magnanimous wave of his hand. “While you tend to arrangements for a fine meal for us this evening, we shall drink a toast to the future of this venture.”

Nerissa clenched her hands at Cole's cavalier behavior. She was not accustomed to being ordered about in her own home, but, as she saw Elinor's broadening smile of satisfaction, she wondered how many other things were about to change for the worse.

“Alas, what shall we do?”

“Cease the moaning, Frye,” Nerissa said as she went to her desk in her sitting room. “Give me a chance to think.”

“That is the same woman who came to live with Lord Windham, isn't it?”

“Forget Elinor!”

“But it is the same woman, isn't it?”

Nerissa turned on her chair to see tears rolling along the grooves in Frye's wide face. Leaping to her feet, she ran to her abigail. She urged the older woman to sit on a chair and brought her a glass of Madeira. Frye's hands shook so fiercely that Nerissa feared she would spill the wine all over herself.

“Dear Frye, I do not understand yet all that is going on, but I hope Hamilton will.”

“Not him!” Frye grasped Nerissa's hand. “Do not make matters more critical by involving him. He is sure to side with that dasher downstairs.”

Nerissa knelt by Frye's chair. “Hamilton may have some idea of how Elinor Howe came to be in Cole's company. I must protect my brother from her greed.”

“Greed? What could she want of Mr. Pilcher? He does not have two farthings to rub together. If you had not been so generous with the few pennies your sainted mother left you, he would have starved in the streets long ago.”

“I must find out why she is so interested in Cole, and, for that, I need Hamilton's help.”

“'Tis a bad idea.”

“It is the only one I have.”

Frye opened her mouth to retort, then nodded with reluctance. Taking a deep drink of the sweet wine, she put the glass on a table and rose. “And I shall endeavor to learn what tales Hadfield has brought back from London with him. Mayhap in the midst of his bangers, there will be a kernel of truth.”

Nerissa returned to her writing desk. Taking out a sheet of paper and ink, she did not hesitate as she wrote a request for Hamilton to call as soon as he could. She reread the note. Desperation rang through every word, although she had explained nothing. She rang for a maid and asked her to have the letter delivered posthaste to Lord Windham at Queen Square.

When the door closed again, Nerissa dropped into her chair and stared out the window at the square below. It looked dismal beneath the lowering sky, and she felt the same.