Scoundrel in the Regency Ballroom: The Rake and the Heiress / Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem. Marguerite Kaye

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Scoundrel in the Regency Ballroom: The Rake and the Heiress / Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem - Marguerite Kaye


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      ‘Of course I did, for I had already determined to come and see you. Georgie wanted to know when you were coming back to town, and said to be sure and tell you that she’s a blazing success. Melissa was—well, you know what Melissa’s like.’

      Charles concentrated on overtaking a lumbering cart. ‘Dashed attractive woman, that Serena of yours,’he continued when the manoeuvre had been stylishly executed.

      ‘Very,’ Nicholas agreed drily. ‘What are you implying?’

      ‘Ain’t implying anything. I’m happy to tell you straight to your face, Nick, it’s obvious how things are between you two. The way you were looking at each other put me to the blush. Don’t tell me it’s finally happened,’ he said with a sudden guffaw of laughter. ‘Has the lovely mademoiselle given you a coup de foudre?’

      ‘You’re being ridiculous Charles, I’m not in love with her.’

      ‘Whatever you say. It’s just occurred to me, though—maybe Jasper wasn’t too far off the mark after all.’

      ‘What’s my cousin got to do with this?’

      ‘Fretting himself to death at the thought of you getting hitched.’

      ‘But I’ve no intention of getting married. Leastways, not until it’s absolutely necessary.’

      ‘Lawyers still claiming they’re making progress? Depend upon it, they’ll be saying that on the day of your birthday, it’s what you pay ’em for. Don’t believe a word of it. You need to get hitched, no two ways about it, and the perfect candidate’s fallen like a ripe peach into your hands. Beautiful, obviously more than willing—in fact, I’d say the chit’s besotted with you, although you don’t notice, of course—and, what’s more, not someone who will give you any trouble.’

      ‘You’re serious,’Nicholas said incredulously, staring at his friend as if he had just escaped from Bedlam.

      ‘Of course I am. Think about it for a moment. I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the severity of your plight. If you don’t marry, you’ll lose everything.’

      ‘Not everything, I’ll still have the Hall and estate.’

      ‘Much good they’ll do you without funds. You’ll have to give up your gaming, your expensive women, your hunters. You’ll have to rusticate here for ever, in penury.’

      ‘It won’t come to that.’

      ‘It’s coming mighty close,’ Charles said exasperatedly. ‘You can’t let Jasper inherit, Nick. What isn’t swallowed up by his debts will be tossed away on the hazard table. He’s playing very deep these days, he’d be back under the hatches in less than a year.’

      ‘I am aware of that. But it doesn’t alter the fact that I have no desire at all to be married.’

      ‘What makes you so much against it?’

      ‘An inherent dislike of being coerced into doing something I have no desire to do, for a start.’

      ‘Bloodymindedness, in other words.’

      ‘If you like.’ Nicholas sighed deeply. ‘Of course I don’t want Jasper to inherit.’

      ‘Then marry your Serena,’ Charles said stubbornly. ‘Devil take it, Nick, it’s not like you to be so dense. She’s perfect. My guess is she’s the by-blow of some gentleman, you don’t get a nose like that from common stock. She’s well mannered, well turned out—need I go on?’

      ‘So you’re suggesting a marriage of convenience.’

      ‘Convenient enough for both of you, certainly. You keep your fortune. She gets your name. You can pension her off after a respectable time—say a year.’

      ‘You underestimate my dear parent. There is a clause in his will that no one else, not even Jasper, has knowledge of. If my marriage is terminated by anything other than death, Jasper inherits.’ Nicholas smiled at the shocked expression on his friend’s face. ‘My father constructed a matrimonial prison for me, with a life sentence as punishment. I will find a way to break it—I must. Now let us drop the subject, once and for all.’

      Charles pulled the phaeton up at the front door of the Hall, refusing the offer of a bed for the night. ‘Didn’t mean to offend you, Nick.’

      ‘It’s all right, Charles. I simply won’t be told how to run my life. Not by my father, not by Jasper or even, my dear fellow, by you.’

      Charles grinned. ‘Truth be told, Nick, I’m pretty set on doing the deed myself. Don’t want to offend the future mother-in-law, best be on my way before they send out a search party.’

      ‘Give my regards to Lady Cheadle, and accept my felicitations, if I’m not being premature.’

      ‘Well, it’s fairly certain. I’m to have an audience with Lord Cheadle in the morning—settlements, you know. She’s a compliant little thing, Penelope, she’ll do well enough. Take a leaf from my book, Nick, before it’s too late.’ Charles pulled his caped driving coat more securely around him and tightened the reins. With a crack of the whip he set his horses trotting briskly down the path, only to pull them up almost immediately. ‘Stamppe,’ he called back, ‘knew it would come to me. It’s the family name of the Vespians. Saw the announcement in the Morning Post the other day, the fifth earl died in Paris last year. Your Serena must be some distant relative.’ With a twirl of his whip, he set off again.

      Nicholas headed for the library, demanding the last few days’ copies of the Morning Post. While Hughes retrieved the newspapers from the butler’s pantry and hastily ironed them flat, Nicholas poured himself a glass of Madeira and thought about Serena.

      Inevitably his mind returned to the image of her yesterday lying wanton in the hay, her hair fanned out, brighter gold than the supporting bales, her creamy flesh flushed. He couldn’t wait to plunge into the hot wet core of her, to feel her tight around him, to… Damnation! He was fantasising like a school boy. If he continued in this vein he was in for another night like the last one, tortured by adolescent fantasies and frustrated with longing.

      Looking at the clock on the mantel, he realised that it was almost dinner time. Tomorrow he would make sure their love-making was not interrupted. Tonight he would have to content himself with trying not to think about what that would entail.

      Hughes arrived with the stack of newspapers and the day’s post. There was a letter from Frances Eldon at last. Nicholas opened it with a smile of anticipation. As he quickly scanned the neatly crossed pages his smile faded. By the time he had finished, his face was a mask of fury.

      He was waiting for her on the front steps of the Hall the next morning. The day was dry but cold, making Serena glad of the warm woollen cloak she wore over her dress of pale blue muslin. At the sight of Nicholas’s tall figure her heart did a little flip of excitement. It was all very well to tell herself that they must never share so much as another kiss. Faced with the man himself, her will power weakened.

      You are not the only one anxious for a resolution. His parting words to her yesterday. Excitement turned to anxiety, which dissolved into dread when she saw his face. No sign of his usual careless smile, his mouth was drawn into a tight line and he was frowning, his eyes a cold slate grey that seemed to glitter like polished granite. ‘Is there something wrong, Nicholas?’

      She faltered to a halt on the step below him. He looked down, his eyes travelling slowly over her, from her face, sweeping down her neck, the length of her body, with contempt. An icy coldness clutched at her heart. ‘Nicholas?’

      ‘Come in. There’s coffee waiting,’ he said curtly, preceding her into the house, giving her no choice but to follow him, hastily abandoning her bonnet and cloak to Hughes’s care.

      They sat opposite each other in front of the fire as was their custom. The clock ticked on the mantel. Outside, the sun danced in and out of scudding clouds, slanting shadows


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