The Marquess Who Loved Me (32 page)

He grinned as he dropped his lips to her breast. She fell back into the mattress, her own grin matching his. “Wouldn’t want you to get too complacent, my lord.”

“Never complacent, Ellie my love.”

His mouth closed over her breast, sucking lightly just as his fingers found the most sensitive place beneath her curls. She arched up, putting a hand on his head, sifting through his hair as though pillaging for treasure.

But the treasure she sought was already there, wrapped around her like a net of spun sugar, fragile and almost unbearable sweet. The Nick in her arms was the one she’d caught glimpses of the past few days, the witty, sardonic man who would laugh just for her. If she could keep his laughter, let it soak into her skin until, together, they lit up every last bit of darkness…

His fingers took on more urgency, and suddenly there was no room for thought. “I need you, Ellie.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ll need you until I die, in this life and every other.”

He moved against her as he said this, and there was no pause — no waiting for her to beg, no time for her to answer. He sank into her, slowly, but irresistibly, and she spread her legs, wishing madly that there was more she could give, more he could take.

“This life and every other,” she whispered.

She pulled his head down and kissed him, hard and thorough, wanting the taste of those words to mingle on their lips. When he moved in her again, she felt the craving and the completion, twin gifts they gave each other with every stroke. And when she finally came apart, he joined her there — not a conqueror, not a captive, but a missing piece of her heart that had finally found its way home.

*
   
*
   
*

When they could breathe again, she turned onto her side, stroking her fingers across his chest. “If I’d known how good a bed could be, I’d have risked my chaperones finding us, ruin be damned.”

He laughed. The sound rumbled through her fingers. “Best that you didn’t know. I’m sure I only survived tonight because of your advanced age.”

She poked him in the side. “Careful, Claiborne. I’m still younger than you.”

Nick caught her fingers and brought them to his mouth, kissing each one before dropping his head back on the pillow. “Perhaps Charles had the right idea after all. If I died here, with you as my last thought, I’d die a happy man.”

“Don’t say that,” she said.

He looked up at her, his blue eyes serious. “I’m sorry. But chances are you’ll be my last thought no matter when it happens.” He paused, just long enough that she thought he was done, and then added, “You, or kippers. I’m quite fond of them.”

She giggled. “You are so adept at wooing ladies, aren’t you?”

“There’s only one lady I care to woo tonight.”

She remembered, then, the choice he had given her. “What were those objects you had for me?”

“Does it matter? I like the choice you made.”

She scowled. “You know I’m too curious for that.”

“Very well,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. He rolled out of bed, still naked, and strode to the chair he’d sat in. He picked up the pouch first, untied the leather thong that bound it, and unfurled it.

“These are the receipts for what you owe me — ten years’ worth,” he said, holding up a sheaf of papers.

Then he tossed them into the fire.

Ellie gasped. “Why did you do that?”

“As I’ve said, you weren’t the woman I wanted revenge against.” He didn’t even look at the notes as they burned — as though forty thousand pounds, and all the years he’d waited, were nothing compared to the next moment.

Instead, he came back to the bed with the mysterious box. “You said the other night that you don’t know what I did in India. And, frankly, it’s not worth sharing, at least not now. I mostly drank too much, fought every fever a man can have, made an obscene amount of money…and dreamed of you.”

He flicked open the clasp on the box. Inside lay a pile of delicate gold chains, threaded through dozens, perhaps hundreds, of tiny bells. He lifted a strand from the box. The bells chimed softly, whispering foreign dreams in the air — dreams Ellie had never had and yet, suddenly, longed for.

He leaned over her body, grazing his hands down her leg, and fastened the chain around her ankle. “I thought I would have you dance for me in these,” he said. “I dreamed of you serving me like a harem girl, wearing only bells and your glorious hair.”

He fastened another set of bells around her other ankle. She shivered, but he wasn’t done.

“If you saw what’s in my trunks, you’d know what I did in India. Jewels, fabrics, artwork, more jewels — every bazaar, it seemed, had something you might like. I think I have a flacon of perfume from every man who ever tried to bottle jasmine under glass. I said it was for my revenge, that I’d taunt you with it…”

He clasped another set of bells around her wrist. When she shifted to catch his hand, her body turned to music — but he evaded her grasp. “I lied to myself, Ellie,” he said. “Easier to say I hated you. Easier to plan for a guaranteed revenge than to risk not winning you back. Easier to hope you’d marry someone else, so I’d never have to bring these dreams back to face you…”

She cut him off as he fastened the last bracelet around her other wrist. The mingling of music and regret was discordant. These bells called for joy, not penance.

“Shut up, Nick,” she said fiercely. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

Nick heard the certainty in her voice. He reveled in it — he’d rather let her feel his heart than try to say the words he somehow couldn’t get out.

He was already hard for her again, his heart pounding so fast that surely the beat alone would make her bells ring for him. This time, though, he was slower, more patient, more thorough — the way he’d wanted to be the first time, before his cock had overruled him.

The peak, when it came, was briefer than before, but no less intense. He spent himself inside her again — and, again, pretended it was an accident rather than a choice.

Not that Ellie seemed to mind. When he could think again — after a longer interval than the previous time — he tipped his head toward her. She held her wrist above her, staring up at the bells as she turned them this way and that to catch the firelight. Her smile, as dark and mysterious as any goddess’s, was supremely satisfied.

She must have sensed his movement, because she dropped her wrist and turned her head. They were inches apart, and her smile, when directed at him, was bright enough to overwhelm him.

“You were more than worth the wait,” she said.

He wanted her again — but another time would kill him. Despite his earlier words, he wasn’t ready to die, not when he had this moment to savor. So he contented himself with pulling her into his arms and learning how she felt as she fell asleep against him, the little sounds she made as she dreamed. The fire slowly died, and the crackling embers mingled with her bells to lure him closer to sleep.

In the morning, he would settle with Norbury. And then….

And then he didn’t know, exactly, what would happen. But winning wasn’t good enough anymore.

All he wanted was Ellie. And he would do whatever it took to stay by her side.

Ellie awoke to the smell of ham and the sound of a beverage being poured. She was sprawled on her stomach and had slept more deeply than she had in days — but food never failed to awaken her.

“How late is it, Lucia?” she mumbled into her pillow, not turning over.

“It’s just after nine.”

Nick
. She flipped herself upright, pushed her hair out of her face — and heard the soft chime of bells all around her as she realized she was still in his bed. “What are you doing?”

“Do you care for toast? I will toast it for you.”

He was sitting in his armchair, fully dressed, in a suit that was a better match for a London rake than a sleepy country lord. But there was nothing sleepy about him today. His eyes were sharp, and they missed nothing as they looked her over. She winced. Her hair would look like a nest of brambles. She pulled the sheets up around herself, covering everything she should cover — but still, she felt suddenly shy.

Nick had never seen her wake up in the morning. No one had, save Lucia and her other maids.

She tried to contain her hair, but she couldn’t without dropping the sheets. Nick coughed. “Toast?” he asked again.

He held a toasting fork. It was so odd to see him doing something domestic that she laughed. “Trying to keep me well-fed, my lord?”

He grinned. “Unless you prefer to be put through your paces first.”

She did, but she was too curious about why he was there to distract him. “Toast first, if you please.”

He nodded. But before he put the bread on the toasting fork, he stood and brought her a cup. “I thought this would awaken you.”

He had brought her chocolate. She took it from his hand, letting her fingers graze on his as she reached for the handle. “Is Lucia feeling better? You don’t have…bad news about her, do you?”

“She will be fine, but Marcus ordered her to take at least a fortnight off. You can ring for another maid later. We need to talk, Ellie.”

She didn’t like the tone of his voice. It was too serious, as though he dreaded whatever he needed to say. She sipped her chocolate, pretending she’d heard nothing to warn her. When she thought she could sound innocent, she said, “What do we need to talk about?”

He jammed a slice of bread onto the toasting fork, thrust it toward the fire, and scowled. Then, he said, “You’re not going to like it. I thought I would do this without telling you, but you deserve better than that. And anyway, I need your help.”

She frowned. “Can you be more direct, please?”

He snorted. “My little field marshal. I’m sorry to interrupt your morning like this, but I believe I know who wants to kill me.”

She nearly shrieked. “You are wasting time with my toast when you know something that important?”

“I thought you liked toast,” he said.

He wasn’t teasing. He looked down at the toasting fork as though it had betrayed him. Ellie sighed. “I adore toast, and I thank you for it. But isn’t the killer slightly more important?”

Nick turned the toasting fork over the fire. “Of course. But if your guests stay true to their usual schedules, I have an hour before I must begin my efforts to eliminate him. There is time enough to make you toast.”

“‘Eliminate’ sounds dire.”

“Not as dire as what I would have done if he had harmed you,” Nick said. “But you aren’t going to like the person I am about to name.”

She thought back over the past four days. And she knew, suddenly, that she was about to be disappointed, not shocked. But she put a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “It’s not me, is it?”

Nick laughed. “Would that it was. I’m sure I could find a satisfying way to punish you.”

“Shall I confess, then?”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not you. But I believe your friend Norbury is involved.”

“Norbury.” Ellie sighed. “Are you sure?”

“You don’t sound as upset as I expected.”

She sipped her chocolate again, considering. “I’m more sad than upset, I think. Norbury is a decent man. He’s never been anything but kind to his wife, despite her ailments, and he is generally well-liked.”

“Then why are you not more surprised?”

“He was very odd about your return — he even warned me about you yesterday. I didn’t think much of it since I knew he wasn’t the highwayman. I would have recognized his voice if he had been the one who waylaid us. But perhaps he’s involved in a way I didn’t expect.”

Nick slid her toast off the fork and brought her a tray with the toast, ham, and a soft-boiled egg. She sat up higher, crossing her legs under her like a child and tucking the sheets around her so that they wouldn’t fall. “I haven’t had breakfast in bed in an age,” she said as she pulled the tray closer. “Your revenge shall spoil me.”

“I hope so.” He sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out to steady the tray so that it didn’t tilt toward him as he settled into the mattress. “I think you could do with a bit of spoiling.”

No one had ever spoiled her — no lovers, no family members, and certainly not her father. But she wouldn’t waste a bright morning, fresh toast, and the man at her side on dead memories. She smiled at Nick. “If you thought toast would buy my loyalty, you have succeeded. Whatever happens with Norbury, you have my blessing.”

“As easy as that? I will hire a servant just to make you toast if that’s all I must do to win you.”

She laughed. But as she knocked the top off her egg, she suddenly realized her eyes were filling with tears. There was something welling up within her that she didn’t recognize and couldn’t identify. How could toast make her so maudlin?

She reached up to wipe her eyes, but Nick caught her hand. “Look at me,” he said softly.

She didn’t want to, but he reached out to touch her cheek and tip her toward him. The tears spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks. “I don’t know what has happened to me,” she said, picking up her napkin. “Toast has never made me cry before.”

He released her. She turned away and dabbed at her eyes. But then he edged closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “You can be upset with Norbury, you know. You can even be upset with me. I didn’t want to ruin your morning, but you deserve the truth.”

She turned her head into his chest. She didn’t sob, but it was a close thing — her breath hitched in, and she felt something that could have been a scream inside her throat if she hadn’t swallowed it again. When she could trust her voice, she whispered, “I trusted him. Why is it always the ones I trust who betray me?”