Desire Me More (20 page)

H
ighgate. They'd finally arrived. It was too far into the fall months to call it a nice country visit. Amelia breathed in the clean air. The grass was dull and faded and whipping around fiercely in the bitterly cold wind that seemed to have arrived the moment they'd left the townhouse. The road was long and narrow and the trees sparse, but the farther they rode out of the city, the denser the trees became.

They were just far enough from the city that the stench of coal didn't weigh down the air. It was refreshing to breath in country air again. She hadn't been outside of London since the summer months, and that felt like an age ago. They headed straight to the manor house, since the inn wasn't expecting them for another two hours.

“It's lovely here, Nick. Though I can't say the same for the house.” An ominous monstrosity stared back at them as they stood in the front drive. “Are you sure this is suitable for a school?”

Now that she'd seen it, she was skeptical. Nick let out one of his rare laughs. Come to think of it, his laughs were not so rare these days. At least not when he was spending time in her company.

“It'll do. Let me take you through; maybe I can change your mind. It's rather charming on the inside.”

Nick took her hand and led her up the graveled path lined with tall grasses and weeds. There was a fountain in the center of the drive, long dried and holding nothing more than dirt.

To say the house was in a state of disrepair was an understatement. The stone was weather-worn and dimpled, and many of the windows were cracked or missing in too many places to begin counting on the first and second levels, though the dormers on the third level appeared to be in decent shape. The sloped roof didn't look to be keeping the rain out, and the building leaned a little to one side and looked as though a strong gale might cause it to tip over.

Thick vines of ivy raced along the wall on the east side, all the way up to the turreted top, where the parapet was collapsed in on one side. The ivy claimed the building in a wildness that matched the unkempt grounds. There was an addition off one side that looked like it might be in a better state of standing than the rest of the house.

The steps flanking the front entrance were pitted and cracked enough that Amelia had to watch her footing so her heels didn't get caught. There was a lock on the outside of the big wooden doors, which looked like they could keep out an army.

Nick pulled a key from his pocket and stuck it in the padlock. “Good thing I brought this along. I don't think we'll want to leave the house open for travelers when we aren't here.”

“Is it safe to go inside?” Her question was skeptical. Safe was a relative term, considering the house looked like it might fall at any time.

“Safe enough. Don't worry. I was here a few months back when Lord Murray showed interest in selling. The floors squeak more than they should, the plaster is peeling from the walls, but there were no structural issues.”

“That's not reassuring.” She looked up at the house. At one time it had been grand and beautiful, and she imagined it had hosted the most beautiful balls and soirées. That time seemed long gone. “I can see why he wanted rid of this property. No one could possibly live here with the state it's in.”

“His lordship closed up this house fifteen years ago. I think he ran out of funds to keep it running and to do repairs as they came up. Easier to lock it up and forget about it than pay servants you can't afford to keep on.”

The door creaked open, the sound portentous as dead air washed over them. Amelia actually held her breath for the count of five before pulling out a handkerchief to cover her nose. “I'm beginning to think you've paid too much for it. I've seen the drawings and plans, but I just don't see how you'll save this place.”

“You need just a little faith. I have one of the best architects lined up to take the job.”

They stepped into the foyer, and Amelia tightened her hand around his, telling herself that she didn't do it because she was afraid . . . well, maybe a smidgen, but that fear stemmed more for their safety than having something jump out at them. Nick let her go to retrieve a lamp hanging on the wall. He pulled out a match from his pocket to light it. He'd come prepared.

The soft glow had shadows dancing on the high vaulted ceiling. Amelia tilted her head back to look at the architecture. It was beautiful. No other word could describe the sight that met her eyes. There was a painting up there, but she couldn't quite make out the finer details. It looked like a frieze of angels dancing through the air. Something black fell from the ceiling and swooped toward her face. She ducked with a scream, her hands covering her head.

“It's just bats,” Nick said. “We were liable to find something.” He pulled her to his side again, tucking her close as he swatted at another little black beast flying toward them. He swung the lamp around in an arch, and the winged creatures flew out the front door and into the daylight. Amelia's heart raced, and she felt like they were in a gothic novel, about to find danger around every corner.

“I've never been the fainting type, but this changes everything,” Amelia admitted, her voice shaky.

Nick chuckled. “Don't faint on me yet. If I drop this lamp, the place is likely to go up like a box of kindling.”

She pushed at his shoulder as she stood, keeping her head down just in case. “That's not funny.”

“Only the truth. Now, are you ready to explore?”

In a smaller voice, she asked, “How many more bats do you think we're likely to see?”

“This is the tallest point of the house. We'll be safer on the second floor.”

With a groan, she walked farther inside and kept her head ducked in case the flying rats took another dive at them. She never quite let go of Nick's sleeve as she headed toward the stairs. It was just one set that swept up and around in a spiral to the second level, which was shut off by a series of doors.

Placing her hand on the intricate wood balustrade, she pulled away before she made it up two steps; it was covered in a heavy layer of dust and grime. She tried to wipe it off her hand but made a mess of her gloves, so she ignored it and took Nick's arm to keep her balance.

“Why would anyone let such a beautiful house lay in waste?”

“Money. It always comes back to money.”

“That makes it all the more sad. He should have sold it sooner.”

“I think he was hopeful that his financial situation would improve with time. This house has a better purpose than a private home for Lord Murray. One that will be for the betterment of the community.”

She laughed at that; she couldn't help herself. “I don't think they'll see it that way, for some reason.”

“Probably not, but I have you at my side to help convince any disconcerted resident. Lady Burley is also a marvel. You two will set the town to rights, with my sister advocating for the education of children who need a good place to learn.”

“You're so sure of our ability when we haven't met any of the townsfolk.”

He pulled her into his arms, one of his hands holding the lamp aloft so they could see each other clearly. “I am. Are you ready to venture upstairs? Shall we see what we will find behind the first door?”

She smiled at him, though she wasn't sure he could see her in the shadows the lamp cast around them, so she squeezed his arm. “Yes, but I think it wise to shine the light ahead of us first . . . to ensure there aren't any more surprises. I'm trusting you completely with my safely, as I'm not sure about the durability of these floors.”

Nick jumped on the spot and laughed when she let out a squeal and held on to him tighter. Creatures stirred in the rafters of the great room, and somewhere deep in the house, something moved about as though it had been awaken from a long slumber.

Amelia was terrified that they would run into some other type of vermin. “You're absolutely diabolical. I'll not step another foot into this house if you do that again.”

His expression suddenly turned serious. “You have my word, Miss Grant. I'll be a perfect gentleman.” He held out his arm, as though they were set to stroll a garden path.

“Come on,” she said pulling him up the stairs after her; really, she was anxious to be away from whatever moved beneath the floors. And she certainly didn't want to be here when night fell. Call her superstitious from her country upbringing, but bats in the house were not something she was willing to face when the sun went down.

She nearly tripped on the last few steps, but Nick caught her around the waist and lifted her the rest of the way up. She took the second door, because it seemed silly to choose the first for some reason.

Throwing it open, they found a grand sitting room. White sheets were draped over a Spartan amount of furniture, all pushed against the walls.

She pulled away from Nick and walked toward the center. The ceiling was painted in gold leaf, and the walls were a faint blue, like a robin's egg that she'd once seen in an encyclopedia. Where paintings once hung on the walls there was a notable difference in the brightness of paint beneath, untouched from sunlight.

“This room is absolutely massive.” She spun around, studying it like she was on the dance floor in a grand ballroom. “It will be a great hall for assemblies.”

Heavy curtains were drawn against the windows to keep out the exterior temperature and light, making the air stagnant. She pulled one blue velvet curtain back to let in the dreary day so she could get a better view of their surroundings and promptly coughed as dust flew up around her. She waved it away from her nose and turned from the window.

“I probably should leave things as they are.” Cracking her eyes open, she saw the way Nick stared at her, and she blushed. That look was a mixture of amusement and ten kinds of naughty, all covered up in a delicious package she wanted to unwrap and indulge in all day long.

She frowned at that thought. That was the last thing that should be on her mind as they toured the dusty old manor and discussed future plans of the property.

“What do you find so amusing?” she asked.

“You.” He was walking toward her. There really wasn't anywhere to go, so he backed her up against the wall. The plaster crunched under her as she pressed her shoulders against it.

“Nick.” She put her hand out, stopping him from coming even an inch closer. “We can't do this here.”

“Why not? There's no one but the two of us. And the sight of you has me starved for a taste.”

Amelia's eyes widened. “That doesn't make it right.”

His hand was hard and thorough as it rubbed over one of her bound breasts and then the other. “If I take down a few of these buttons”—he traced the ones that marched up the center of her bodice—“and lift up your skirts enough that you can wrap your legs around my waist . . . there's no one to hear us for miles.”

She flattened her hands against his chest. She intended to push him away, but the hard ridges of muscle begged to be traced.

“We can't,” she said, but her words belied her actions.

“We can.” His hand pressed hers over his pectoral, and she could feel his heart pounding heavily beneath her touch. “Let our first impression of this place be a good one. There are a lot of memories for me here that I prefer to bury.”

“What do you mean?”

“Buying this place was only the first step in cleansing my past. And what better way to wipe the slate clean than to bury myself in you until we are so mad with lust that every time we cross the threshold of this house, it's this moment we remember.”

It was hard to argue his point. Tracing her hand over his jaw, she bit her tongue in asking what those bad memories were. It wasn't the time or place to ask for that kind of confession when he was giving her so much, just telling her that. She stored the information away for later, when they were at the inn.

“And what of the driver waiting for us outside?” she asked.

“I'll swallow your cries before they reach his ears. Though I don't think he'll hear a sound with the wind stirring the trees outside.” It seemed he didn't need to convince her because he was already pressing his groin against hers, mimicking motions they'd make if there weren't clothes hindering them.

Amelia's breath hitched and caught as he proceeded to release the buttons on her bodice. She didn't stop him. And admittedly, she didn't want to.

Nick carefully regarded her expression the whole time. His fingers dipped between her bare skin and the corset so he could pinch and roll her nipples one at a time. Her eyes fell closed, and her mouth parted as a breath hurried out of her in a rush. Her head fell back against the wall. She was sure bits of plaster stuck in her hat, but she was past caring.

The only thing that mattered was standing in front of her, and he was desperate to fill that aching spot between her legs. Who was she to argue with that?

“I crave you constantly,” she murmured. She sucked in her bottom lip, biting it. Wishing he was the one nipping her.

“And I you. I get a raging cockstand in the most inconvenient places.”

She giggled. And then covered her mouth with her gloved hand. She had never giggled in her whole life.

“That's a sound I want to hear again.”

“It's outrageous and something reserved for young women. I hardly fit either of those descriptions.”

“It makes my cock twitch.”

A wordless sound passed her lips as his head lowered, and he open-mouth kissed the top mounds of her breasts. Her nipples ached for the suction of his mouth, but her breasts were impossible to free in this dress.

“Should we wait to do this on our return to the inn? I'm sure they can prepare our room earlier than we requested.”

He hiked up her skirts and stared her right in the eye. “Definitely not. I'll have my fill of you before we leave this room.”