Читать книгу Misleading a Duke - A.S. Fenichel - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Nick was a complete fool. He’d been so angry when he’d found Faith alone at Parvus, he nearly road out into the storm. Sitting with her in the salon and hearing why she had done it all, he longed for more time with her.

She sighed. “Perhaps you might tell me what you plan to do with your time now that you have returned to London?”

Lord, she was a better diplomat than many in the service whom he’d known. “I have several investments that have gone unattended during my absence. I’ve spent the past few months sorting through papers and studying accounts.”

“Will you be staying in England, or do you plan to travel again?” Faith kept her tone steady, but her eyes shone with intelligence and a scheme.

Knowing she was trying a new way to discover his past, he still couldn’t muster any animosity. Her persistence was amusing and oddly endearing. “If things remain calm on the Continent, I was considering a trip next year to see if my investors have survived.”

“Wouldn’t penning a letter be easier?” Her gaze was shrewd.

“Perhaps.” He laughed. “But not as much fun.”

Faith nibbled on her thumbnail and narrowed her eyes. “I have surmised through my investigation that you were in France on behalf of the Crown. Can you at least confirm that?”

It was a slippery business to give half information. Still, he didn’t wish to lie and he hated the idea of ending the evening. “My capacity was unofficial.”

She stared him down, her lips twisting unhappily. “The Wallflowers and I have further speculated that you worked in some kind of espionage. It would explain your reluctance to impart any information.” When he didn’t react she continued. “The real problem is not knowing on behalf of which government you worked. I can wish it was our own Crown, but that does not mean that was the case. Are you an English patriot, Nick?”

His heart pounded. What a clever woman she was. She and her Wallflower friends had learned or assumed a great deal. Now she asked a question that he could answer without lying. “I am a great patriot to the country of my birth.”

She cocked her head. “Were you born in England?”

A guffaw overcame him. “I was. In Hertfordshire, to be specific.”

“Well, that is good news. Can you tell me one thing you did while serving the Crown?”

“There is a great deal of assumption lining your question, Faith.” He steadied his breath. Instinct told him to run, fight, or hide when faced with an interrogation.

“Perhaps, but my question stands.” She was even more lovely when she smiled.

He shifted forward in his chair and lowered his voice. “Not much of what I did while abroad fills me with pride.”

Following his lead, she sat forward too. It brought them close enough to touch, but she didn’t reach out for him. “Was it all bad? Was there not one thing you are proud of?”

It was painful how fervently he desired her touch, but he would not take what was not offered. She deserved better than him, he knew. Perhaps it was that fact that had sent him into such a rage over her spying on him.

“You will not answer?” Deep sorrow in her eyes, melted his resistance.

Searching through the plunder of his memories, he grasped for a tale he wouldn’t be ashamed to tell her. “There was an abbey set afire in a small French village. The nuns and several orphans were trapped inside. I remember the smoke thick and choking as it poured from every window. Three nuns yelling, in French, from a third-floor balcony were surrounded by six crying girls. People ran in every direction to avoid falling embers as the roof caught fire.

“I thought of my assignment, and the consequences of being late or failing altogether. I knew I would never live with myself if I didn’t try to help them. In the stables I found a length of rope and draped it over my neck and one arm. The mortar was old around sharp gray stone. I dug my fingers into the crevices and scaled up the building.

“Once inside, the heat bombarded me. I tied off the rope to the balcony rail and a metal sconce embedded in the mortar near the door. I told the nuns to pray it would hold. Two at a time, the girls wrapped their arms around my neck and I climbed down with them. One nun ventured down on her own. I went back and took one more.

“My energy spent, I could hardly stand, let alone go back for the last nun. Yet I gripped the rope. A farm boy of maybe eighteen, took the line from my hand and climbed to rescue the final nun.” He could still feel the pain of his overextended lungs. “The Spanish abbess had been killed and the building set afire by French troops as an example of what happens to traitors. The boy and I hid the nuns and their wards in the woods until the French army moved on.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “You were a hero.”

“Not to my superiors, who chided me for missing my…” He hesitated. “Appointment.”

With a strong touch, she reached out and clasped his hand. “To three nuns and six children who were innocent, that day you were their hero.”

“I suppose that is something.” He held tight to her small, delicate hand.

“I think it is everything.” Faith shivered, turned her head, and looked out the window.

“What is it?” He followed her gaze, but saw nothing but snow and darkness.

“I suppose it’s nothing, but I’ve lately had the strangest feeling someone is watching me. I felt it first when we were in the garden at Mr. Arafa’s home, then several times in London the week that followed, and just now.” Faith rose and walked to the window before tugging the drapes closed.

Nick pulled the cord for Jamie, but at the late hour the boy was already in bed and Thea poked her head in the door. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Can you check all the doors and see they are bolted for the night?” It was probably nothing, but in his experience, it was better to err on the side of caution.

Thea’s eyes were wide, but she nodded and rushed to do as he said.

Alone again, Nick walked to Faith but didn’t touch her. She had gotten under his skin and he didn’t know how he was going to walk away. Even knowing she’d be better off without him, he wanted her. “It’s probably nothing, Faith.”

She drew a shaky breath. “You’re right, of course. Just an uncomfortable feeling.” Her smile was wide but fake and didn’t touch those intriguing eyes that showed a touch of green in the firelight.

Heart pounding, he longed to draw her close and taste her lips. “It’s late, my lady. Perhaps you are tired.”

With a sad smile, she nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning, Nick. Thank you for the talk.” Leaning on her tiptoes, she pressed those lips that he coveted to his cheek, then left the salon.

Rumple ambled after her with sleepy eyes.

Unlikely he would find sleep for a long time, Nick poured himself a brandy and stared into the fire until it had nearly burned down.

* * * *

Nick had received a note in Faith’s swirling hand to meet her in the hothouse for luncheon. He had not seen her at breakfast, and somehow she had managed to elude him all morning. Parvus was a petite place—in fact, the name meant small in Latin—so how she had avoided him was a mystery. His own longing to catch a glimpse of her, was unsettling.

There was a fleeting moment when he’d first woken and saw the blue skies, that he considered getting on his horse and riding toward London. He would stop at Geb’s home near the city and give him a severe thrashing for his interference.

Then the memory of Faith touching his hand, and understanding his joy and shame at the abbey, swamped him with warmth. He couldn’t leave her alone for so many days until her friends returned. He even considered carrying her to town and putting her in a coach to make her way home. It would be sensible and not ungentlemanly. Still, he could not bring himself to do it.

She had set up this elaborate and unconventional seclusion, and the snowstorm seemed like a sign that perhaps she was in the right. He would take the situation one day at a time.

He rounded the side of the house and found MacGruder placing a bag in his mule-drawn cart.

The groundskeeper took up the reins. “You look better today. Perhaps the country air is good for you.”

Nick couldn’t help liking the old curmudgeon. “Where are you off to?”

“I go once a month to see my niece in town. Lillian MacGruder is her name, should you need to reach me. Since you look to be staying with Lady Faith, I saw no reason to delay my visit. I’ll be gone two or three days. In winter there is little for me to do in the garden and it does my heart good to see Lillian. She makes me a fine tea for my aching joints.” He smiled warmly.

“Enjoy your visit,” Nick said, and waved him down the lane.

Continuing around the house, he walked down the path to the hothouse. The south-facing wall was almost entirely glass, allowing enough light to warm the inside where plants grew as if it were summer. When he’d been in Spain, he’d loved the warm winter while also missing the cold damp of England and home.

Inside, he followed the sound of shuffling and crystal clinking, past orange trees and other warm-climate plants that had been brought inside to winter over, until he discovered the source.

In a light blue day dress, Faith flitted and fussed with the small round table set in the center of a circle of yellow rose bushes. She was like a bluebell among the thorny bushes, lovely and delicate.

She told Thea, “You have done an outstanding job. Thank you.”

The cook spotted him and her eyes went wide as she cleared her throat and blushed.

Faith turned, and a shy grin spread across her face. “I see you found our luncheon spot.”

“Your note was very helpful,” he said and approached the table.

“That will be all, Thea. Thank you.”

With a curtsy, Thea took up her skirts and rushed toward the exit.

Faith’s smile remained fixed as she poured two glasses of wine. “I hope Mr. Arafa will not mind, but I discovered he has a rather fine wine collection in the cellar. I procured a bottle for our meal.”

He accepted the glass of deep red wine from her. “He will probably never notice as he does not drink spirits and only keeps it for friends to enjoy.”

A bead of wine lingered on her lip for a moment before the tip of her tongue poked out and licked it away.

Nick’s groin tightened at the sight, and he closed his eyes and tasted the rich contraband wine. Lord only knew how Geb managed to procure French wine during the war, but he could get anything he wanted; the political state was unimportant for his purposes.

Once he pulled his desires back in check, Nick opened his eyes and surveyed the table. China and silver had been brought to the hothouse as well as cold chicken, meats, cheeses, and bread. “Have you arranged a picnic, Faith?”

She beamed with pride. “I saw no reason to allow winter to deter me when this oasis exists here at Parvus.”

“And I thought Geb had lost his mind when he built this glass monstrosity. I shall have to admit my mistake.” Nick stepped closer and pulled out a chair for Faith.

Once she was seated, he rounded the table and sat facing her. “Thank you for making such an effort. I do not deserve such fussing.”

She cocked her head. “Of course, you do. We all do, Nick.”

“Who fusses over you, Faith?” He’d meant it to tease her, but her sad expression made him immediately regret his question. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to offend you.”

Forcing a smile, she shook her head. “I am not offended. It is just that I have not warranted a great deal of pampering in my life. My greatest accomplishment was getting myself sent away to school so as not to embarrass my family beyond repair. I did have a nanny, who was quite good to me.”

Her head was cocked in thought, searching for one pleasant memory of her youth that might have been gratifying.

It was ridiculous to want to flay her parents for their negligence, but there it was along with the sudden urge to do something to make Faith feel special.

“One of the things I liked in the description of you, sent by your mother, was the fact that you had been a student at the Wormbattle School. It gave me hope that you were not conventional and might not despair at my manners.”

A long sigh deflated her. “And I was horrible from the start.”

“I should have waited for a proper introduction. Storming across the ballroom and introducing myself was impertinent. I thought myself above such conventions just because I have a lofty title. You were right to put me in my place. Perhaps if I had acted like a gentleman, we would not have come to such a pass and become estranged.” He’d thought about this many times since they first met.

Faith leaned in and placed her wine on the table. “May I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Curiosity had him bursting.

“I wasn’t really put off by your introduction. I was just terrified of marrying a man whom I didn’t know. Fear is the one thing that always makes me fail. I wish I was more like Poppy.”

Perhaps Faith’s notion of getting to know him through his friends wasn’t so far-fetched. He helped himself to bread and cheese. “Tell me about your Wallflowers.”

She nibbled on the bread. “Wallflowers don’t gossip about each other.”

“That seems a wise practice for maintaining a friendship, but I’m not asking for gossip, only to know them better and perhaps you as well.” He smiled, hoping it would charm her as it had charmed many other women in his past, for both pleasure and business.

“What do you want to know?” She took a chicken leg from the platter and pulled a morsel free to taste.

There was so much attention spent on one small bit of food, he realized this was part of Faith’s makeup. She paid close attention to detail in everything. The picnic in the solarium was a great example, and she had done that for him. A spark of delight ignited inside him. “How did you gain the title of Wallflowers?”

She sighed. “Mary Yates.”

“What does Miss Yates have to do with it?”

Chewing another bite of chicken, she stared out the wall of windows. The view was full white from the snow covering the garden outside, and the flowers within paled in comparison to the reflecting sun. “Mary Yates was a year ahead of us at the Wormbattle School. She had gathered her friends long before Poppy, Aurora, Mercy, and I ever arrived. They were a vicious pack of girls, embittered by their parents’ choice to send them away. I can’t really blame them for that. It turned out to be the best thing for me, but it hurt when Father announced he’d had enough of me and was sending me away.”

“I can only imagine. Of course, I was sent to Eton, but it is expected for my sex to go away to school, and I went home during breaks.” He wanted to reach out and comfort her old hurt, but it wasn’t his place, and he didn’t want her to stop her story.

“We never had breaks. It was a three-year sentence from the start. Mary resented her situation and seemed determined to make everyone around her suffer her unhappiness. She decided the four of us were the perfect targets since we had just arrived and become such fast friends.

“On occasion Miss Agatha, the headmistress, would arrange a ball with a nearby boys’ school, St. Simon’s. These balls were hugely anticipated and meant to be both educational and amusing. As soon as the young men arrived, Mary made her rounds, telling everyone that we were bores and they should keep their distance. There were some other cutting remarks, but I’ll keep those to myself. Mary has her flaws, but she also has her own set of problems as an adult.”

He marveled at how kind she was, even to a woman who did not return that kindness. Mary appeared spoiled and intolerant. Even her beauty had not persuaded Nick to like her.

Faith continued. “As a result, not one boy asked any of us to dance. After the ball, Mary called us Wallflowers.”

“I thought you all were fond of the title.”

Smiling, Faith was a bright star among the flowers. She shone brighter and with more beauty. “We love it. Even as girls we thought it a fine moniker. We didn’t care about balls and silly young men. By the next ball, we were all asked to dance and even had a few proposals before we left school. Of course, none of us took those offers seriously.

“When Aurora married and we began meeting for Tuesday tea at her home on West Lane, we added the address to our name.”

It was a show of strength and resilience to turn a hateful moniker into something grand that had held these women together through trial and tribulation. He couldn’t help but respect them. “Tell me one thing you admire in each of your friends. Surely that cannot be considered gossip.”

A wisp of a smile tugged at her kissable lips. “I will make you an offer, Nick. I will answer your query about my friends and perhaps something about myself, if you will tell me about the woman you may have done harm to.”

Suddenly Nick couldn’t breathe. “What woman?”

“The one who made you hesitate when you said that you would never strike a woman. I surmise that in certain cases you would harm a member of my sex, and I would like to know precisely what those circumstances are. I realize it is not in your nature to tell anyone anything, but we are alone here. I will not repeat anything you confide to me.” She raised one brow and used the corner of her napkin to dab at her lips.

Lord, he longed to kiss those lips until she was too breathless to ask him any more questions and no longer cared about his past. She was right about his nature, but if this was the woman he wanted, he would have to trust her. The notion made him sick to his stomach.