Lord Grayson's Bride (3 page)

Josephine feared that the tremble working its way through her body would reach her hands. Nicholas’ warm fingers covered hers around his solid arm and the play of muscle beneath her fingers caused her heart to pick up speed again. Desire uncoiled in a languid stretch in her stomach. How she could want him again after what he had just done to her, she had no idea, but if he discerned how much his touch affected her all would be lost.

Nicholas slowed his stride to match hers as he led her down the hallway. She commanded her legs to remain steady and, minutes later, as they neared the grand parlor, Josephine glanced up at him, then stopped short.

“What is it?” he demanded.

“Your hair, it looks as though...”

“As though I’ve just come from my lover’s bed?” he offered.

Josephine shot him a recriminating look. He was right, which didn’t comfort her one bit. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair in an effort to bring the thick mane into submission. Jo startled at the softness of the hair and forced a steady hand as she tucked a lock behind his ear.

“Keep that up, Jo, and I’ll drag you into the nearest closet and make love to you for real, this time.”

She jerked her eyes to his face. Were his eyes even darker than they had been when he’d—She yanked her hand back and started to step away. Nicholas grasped her hand, slipped it back into the crook of his arm, then strolled forward as if he hadn’t had his mouth intimately on her only minutes ago. They soon entered the parlor and, as he’d predicted, guests were playing cards and board games.

To her relief, Lord Beaumond was absent. She prayed Nicholas was right, and the marquess would flee like the rat he was. Nick hadn’t challenged him when he’d had the affair with Deanna, and it hadn’t occurred to Josephine he would do so now. The need to cry rose again, as much because of what had passed between them as the question of how she was going to get herself ruined—and allow him to call off the wedding—without getting him killed.

Would you like a game of cards, Lady Josephine?” Nicholas asked.

“I never cared for cards,” she said.

“Really? I thought you lost ten pounds to Everley playing cards last night. Didn’t he forgive the debt for a kiss?”

“A kiss to my hand,” she snapped under her breath, then regretted the outburst. She should have said it was a kiss on the lips, but realized he knew the truth and was purposely egging her on. “Do not expect me to change after we are married, Nicholas,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

“This silliness will change,” he replied, “for you won’t have the energy to entertain other male attention.”

“Arrogant fool,” she muttered, then caught sight of their hostess, Lady Allaway. She groaned when the woman’s gaze landed on them with interest. She rose off the couch where she sat alongside several other ladies and started toward forward with the obvious intention of intercepting them. “Now look what you’ve done,” Josephine complained. “She is sure to bore us with another half-hour of praise for her gardener’s skills at cutting her shrubberies. If I am forced to listen to another long-winded—” She broke off as Lady Allaway neared them, and a corner of Nicholas’ mouth twitched in amusement.

He released Jo’s hand. “You’re looking lovely this evening, Lady Allaway.” He bent over her fingers and she giggled like a schoolgirl.

“You are a rogue, Lord Grayson. You must keep your eye on him, Lady Josephine.”

“Indeed,” Josephine said.

Lady Allaway turned to her. “Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?”

“I am. You are without a doubt, the best hostess in all of Inverness.”

She glowed. “I do try, and Lord Allaway is kind enough to indulge my fancy for parties.”

Josephine caught the amused glance Nick sent her way and knew he was thinking the same thing she was: Lord Allaway was rich enough to indulge her fancy. This party alone boasted thirty people for the whole of two weeks.

“You are a fortunate woman,” Josephine said.

“I am.”

She glanced at her husband, who stood with a group of men watching a card game in the left corner of the room. An affectionate sparkle appeared in her eyes, and Josephine wondered that a woman who had been married for thirty years could still look at her husband with such unabashed warmth.

Lady Allaway returned her attention to them. “Your wedding is only two months away. Are you ready?”

The abrupt question caught Josephine off guard, but Nicholas laughed and said, “When is any man ready for marriage?”

“Never,” she replied without hesitation. “But we adore you one and all for trying.”

He laughed again. “Otherwise you would murder us in our sleep?”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, then looked at Jo, “And you, Lady Josephine, are you ready for marriage?”

Jo detected an underlying curiosity that went beyond the question. The lady had clearly noticed the fact that Josephine had been flirting shamelessly with other men at the party last night. But then, no one could have missed the fact that she danced with the same man three times last night—a man who wasn’t Nicholas.

“I am coping,” she said. “You know how weddings are, a thousand details and not nearly enough time to prepare.”

“So true, and the details will drive a person to distraction. I imagine your mother has things well in hand, though?”

“I wouldn’t survive without her,” Josephine said, and her heart gave a twist. Spending time with her mother was taking an added toll on her.

“I haven’t seen your mother this afternoon,” Lady Allaway said.

“She is likely resting in her room. She takes a short nap in the afternoons on the days we’re home.”

Lady Allaway gave a knowing nod. “I have found a nap in the afternoon makes me a new woman.”

“My mother says much the same.” Jo flicked a glance at the doorway as Henry Maxwell entered. His gaze alighted on Nicholas, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“If you will excuse me, Lady Allaway, I see Henry just arrived,” Nicholas said. “There is a matter I wish to discuss with him.”

“Of course,” she replied. “You run along. I’ll see to Lady Josephine.”

“I wouldn’t mind saying hello to Henry,” Josephine said.

Nick flashed a dazzling smile. “And he you, no doubt. But we will bore you with our business.”

“On the contrary,” she replied. “You know how interested I am in business.”

“Yes, I do, but not this time.” He smiled, but she caught the hint of steel in his eyes.

“Lady Josephine and I will amuse ourselves,” Lady Allaway said.

“You’re too kind,” Nick bent over the older woman’s hand again, then took Jo’s hand in his and lifted it to his lips. “I will see you at dinner, Lady Josephine.”

She wanted to snatch her hand back, but that would do no good.

Nicholas left, and Lady Allaway said, “You are a very lucky young woman, my dear.”

“Yes,” Josephine answered, her bad luck coming to mind as it too often did.

Why had Nicholas returned home? From the corner of her eye, she saw that he and Henry had been waylaid by two of her father’s cronies. They were probably congratulating him on his upcoming marriage. 

Eric Fleming entered from the open French doors leading to the balcony and his eyes fell on her. He cast a glance at Nicholas, whose back was to him, then crossed the room to Josephine and Lady Allaway.

“Lady Allaway.” He nodded, then said to Jo, “You look in the peak of health, Lady Josephine. You’re almost glowing.”

“I noticed that as well,” Lady Allaway said. “But she was in the company of Lord Grayson, so it’s to be expected.”

Eric’s gaze sharpened on her. “Is that so?”

Panic raced to the surface. Lady Allaway’s comment was that of a romantic, but Eric’s expression was too knowing. He couldn’t know that Nick had done to her. Josephine forced back the erotic picture, suddenly afraid the truth would show on her face.

She gave Eric a coy smile and slid a hand into the crook of his arm. “Surely you aren’t jealous, my lord? Only last night I saw you dancing with Lady Clayworth, and it was obvious that she hung on your every word.”

He laid a hand on his heart. “If only that were true. I fear the lady isn’t interested in me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Josephine said. She looked at Lady Allaway. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Allaway?”

“But of course. What eligible woman could possibly resist you?”

Josephine wondered if she didn’t detect a hint of sarcasm in her tone, but if Eric thought so, he gave no indication.

He laughed. “Alas, the two loveliest ladies are spoken for.”

Lady Allaway giggled. “Shame on you, Lord Eric.”

He swept her a bow, forcing Josephine to release him. “I am an unmarried gentleman, untamed and undisciplined.”

“Some lady shall put you to rights one of these days,” she said.

“Just as Lady Josephine has put Lord Grayson to rights?” Eric’s gaze shifted onto her. “Or is it Lord Grayson who put you to rights, my lady?”

Josephine was reminded of Nicholas saying he had to save her from herself sometimes, and ire flared. “I do not need anyone to put me to rights. I can take care of myself.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” he replied. “Just as you did the time Grayson pulled you from that stallion—what was his name, ah, yes, Devil, I believe. You wore trousers and a shirt.” His eyes gleamed.

“I was fourteen,” she said with a lift of her chin. “And I had Devil under control until Nicholas appeared and shouted. He spooked the horse and the beast naturally bolted. If I didn’t know better, I would say Nicholas did it on purpose to teach me a lesson.”

“Did he?” Percy asked.

“Did he what?”

“Teach you a lesson?”

“He taught me not to ride his horse when he was home from university on holiday.”

Percy laughed and even Lady Allaway joined in. “A right and proper lesson,” he said.

And not the only one he’s taught you, she could almost hear Lord Eric say.

Jo’s younger sister Annabel entered the room with their mother. Nicholas nodded to them, and Annabel’s eyes shifted to Josephine. Five years Jo’s junior, Annabel was still an innocent. Jo had no fear that her younger sister could deduce what Nick had done to her a few minutes ago. Annabel said something to their mother, who looked in Jo’s direction. Lady Montagu, however, was another story. She knew all too well about illicit encounters.

Jo cut off the thought. Her anger toward her mother was becoming increasingly difficult to hide, and she couldn’t afford for her family to guess her true feelings. Lady Montagu said something to Annabel, who smiled and left her side to cross the room to them.

“Miss Knightly, how lovely to see you this afternoon,” Lady Allaway said when she neared.

Annabel stopped beside Jo. “Thank you, my lady. You are looking lovely, as always.”

“We were just noticing how well you sister is looking these days,” Lord Eric said to Annabel.

Annabel looked at her. “Really? She’s been so busy with wedding preparations this last month that she seems hardly to have smiled.”

“That is to be expected,” Jo said with a warning narrowing of her eyes.

“That spell is broken,” Lord Eric continued doggedly, and Josephine wanted to throttle him. “And Lady Allaway is certain Lord Grayson is responsible.”

Josephine opened her mouth to reply, but Lady Allaway said, “As is proper, Lord Eric. Now no more teasing poor Lady Josephine. She is a young lady in love, and ladies in love are allowed to glow. My dears,” she addressed Josephine and Annabel, “tell me about the wedding preparations.”

“I shall take my leave,” Lord Eric said on a laugh, and Lady Allaway gave him permission to go, then led them to the settee where she’d been sitting earlier. As she chatted, Jo’s mind wandered back to minutes ago when she’d been in Nicholas’ arms, and she wanted to cry, for her plans didn’t include another such erotic interlude.

Nicholas shifted and his eyes settled on her as if reading her mind. Josephine yanked her gaze from his and focused on Lady Allaway. She hated it when he seemed to know just what she was thinking. And, damn
him, he did it all too often.

“The dog already fled?” Nicholas asked Henry, when they finally broke away from the last guests offering their congratulations on his and Josephine’s wedding.

“Lord Beaumond was seen getting into his carriage, his bags atop the vehicle,” Henry said.

Nicholas snorted. “He’s an even bigger coward than I thought—not to mention a fool, if he thinks I will let this pass.”

“Is forcing the issue worth the possibility of leaving Lady Josephine without a husband-to-be?” Henry asked.

“Yes, but I have no fear of that happening. Beaumond is a terrible shot.” Nick saw the question in Henry’s eyes what about Josephine’s part in the matter? But didn’t answer. He glanced at her to see she was still well engaged with Lady Allaway and her sister. That would keep her out of trouble long enough for him to speak with her father. “Henry, I have some business to discuss with Montagu. Would you escort Jo to her room if I do not return?”

“Of course,” Henry, said, and Nicholas went in search of the marquess.

Fifteen minutes later, Nicholas found Jo’s father reading in a corner chair of the library and took a seat beside him.

Montagu’s gaze met his and he closed his book. “What has she done now?”

“She is a foolish girl,” Nicholas said more to himself than the marquess.

“Foolish enough to have finally convinced you to call off the wedding?”

“Nay,” he replied, and wondered what she could do that could force him to end the contract. Even seeing her sitting astride Beaumond half-naked, the possibility of ending things hadn’t crossed his mind—despite knowing that was exactly what she was trying to goad him into.

“Are ye certain you want to go through with the marriage?” Montagu asked. “I would not blame you one bit if you didn’t, and would not hold you to a single pound of the recompense.”

Marrying Jo had been all he’d been able to think about when he discovered she hadn’t married. He refused to consider life without her. Accepting that fate the first time had left a gaping hole in his heart that couldn’t be filled by any other woman.

Nicholas shook his head. “Nay. I stand by my word.”

“Come what may?” Montagu asked softly.

“Come what may.”

“She isn’t the girl you left behind, Grayson.”

Nick laughed mentally. And here, only minutes ago, he’d told Josephine she was the same girl. He remembered the look in her eyes when she’d first seen him after his return. A child’s wonder had given way to a woman’s hurt—then scorn. From that scorn was born a passion that he’d only glimpsed in the girl six years past. Tonight, he’d finally tasted of that hunger and knew it was but a hint of what she was capable of...of what she felt for him.

“She is grown,” Nicholas said.

Montagu gave a slow nod. “Grayson, I have never said it, but I deeply regret being against your marrying Josephine when you were young. Her betrothal to Helmsley was only a handshake between his father and me when they were young. Helmsley was older than you, more...settled. When I think of all the pain that would have been avoided...” His voice dropped off.

“I cannot blame you. I wasn’t the sort of man I would have wanted my daughter marrying either.” Nick couldn’t help a sad smile. “My father warned me my whoring ways wouldn’t serve me well. It seems he was right.”

“Our youthful ways seldom do any of us credit,” Montagu said. “But you are a man who will protect Josephine.” He regarded Nicholas with intense eyes. “You meant it then when you told me you loved her all those years ago.”

Nick slipped back to the moment he realized he loved Josephine. Their two families were gathered at her father’s home for her sixteenth birthday. Montagu presented her with the same pearls she wore tonight and something happened when he clasped them around her neck. Seeing the pearls against her alabaster skin started a tightening in Nick’s groin that turned ferocious when the smile she had given her father shifted onto him.

Her face beamed when she ran her fingertips over the pearls and Nicholas couldn’t halt the vision of those fingers skimming across his body. Then he realized with shock that the attraction was more than lust, more than passion. It was a need beyond any he had felt for a woman, any he had conceived of. He left that night frightened of his feelings, aware that her family intended her to wed another man. Aware he couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I did,” he replied.

A corner of Montagu’s mouth ticked upward. “I suppose if any man is going to suffer at her hand it should be you.”

Nicholas laughed. “Only a man who knows her should suffer?”

“Only a man who loves her might save her. Now, tell me, what has she done?”

“Beaumond has her in his sites.” Anger lashing through him—not at Jo, but at Beaumond, who knew better than to dally with her. “She allowed him to be alone with her in a small sitting room a little while ago.”

Montagu swore under his breath. “I assume no one else knows, or I would have heard the gossip by now.”

“Henry was with me when I discovered them, but he can be trusted. Speak with her Montagu.”

He sighed. “I will, though what more I can say I do not know.”

“Tell her that a man in love will not—cannot—release the woman he loves.” Nicholas shifted and looked in his eyes. “Tell her, if I am to live in Hell, it will be with her by my side.”

* * *

Josephine sat at her desk staring at the letter she’d been trying to write for the last hour when there came a commanding knock on the door. She thought of Nicholas and a frisson of sensual awareness sent gooseflesh prickling along her arm before good sense told her that Nick would never be so improper as to come to her bedchamber. Even if he did, that was the last thing she wanted. No, it was the very thing she wanted, but it would only give him the reason he needed to insist they marry immediately.

“Come in,” she called. The door opened and her father entered. Josephine rose. “Papa, is everything all right?”

“Of course. Can’t a father visit his daughter without something being wrong?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “But I expect that isn’t the case.”

He crossed to her and she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He glanced at her desk. “Writing Cecile, I see.”

“Yes. I have been remiss.”

“I am sure she understands, and she is busy with her first son.”

Josephine motioned to the settee near the window and they sat down. “I haven’t seen her since she married. That has been two years. When might we visit them?”

“I imagine after you and Nicholas are married you will go. He tells me he plans to spend most of his time at Whitehaven. That is but a day’s ride from Cecile at Enrilth Castle. The two of you can see a great deal of one another.”

Josephine’s heart fell. Asking to visit Cecile had been an impulse, but the notion carried with it a great deal of hope. “That is some ways off,” she said. “Why not go ourselves?”

He gave her a gentle smile. “Not so far off that the trip north would be worthwhile.”

“Two months is ample time,” she said. Though not nearly ample enough.

“You and your mother have much planning yet to do for the wedding.” He paused, and she knew the reason for his visit was at hand. “Lass, I could not help noticing you’re still angry with Nicholas.”

“I am not angry with him,” she blurted.

“No? The marriage contract is signed, banns are read, and the wedding is two months away, yet you continue to snub him as you did when he first returned. I understood it then, at least somewhat, but now? Why, lass?”

“I made it clear I signed the contract under duress.”

Her father nodded. “So you said. But your mother and I both see how you look at him. And there’s no missing the way his eyes follow you the moment you enter the room.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Nay? Are you saying you don’t know he loves you?”

“Even if he does that does not mean I have to love him back,” she said with heat.

“No,” her father agreed. “But you do. However, while your behavior toward him is extreme, we have noticed that you are not yourself.”

“That is ridiculous,” she said.

He shook his head. “You stopped going to parties. You seldom entertain friends. You quit asking to see friends as you just did Cecile—I am well aware, by the way, that your request to see her is an effort to avoid Nicholas.”

“Papa, honestly, you have an overactive imagination. I have simply grown tired of parties and female prattle.”

“Is that all?” he asked.

“Should my life consist of balls and pretty dresses?”

“That is a particularly fine day dress you are wearing,” he said.

“I do not have to be obsessed with fashion to dress reasonably well.”

He nodded. “I might agree, if not for the most puzzling thing of all.”

Her heart beat faster.

“Do you deny that there is something amiss between you and your mother?”

“What could possibly be wrong between Mamma and myself?” she asked.

“I wish I knew. I was certain at first, I was mistaken, but you avoid her company, and that is not like you.”

“Is it possible I’m telling the truth when I say I am simply unhappy at the prospect of marrying Nicholas?”

“You are unhappy, I grant you that,” he said. “As to marriage, you are three and twenty. ‘Tis past time you settled down and had children.”

The familiar ache rose in her breast and the burn of tears rose before she could stop it.

“Josephine,” her father said. “What is amiss, lass?”

His anxious face came into focus and she realized her expression had given away her sorrow. “I will not marry simply to have children,” she said.

She would not have children at all, in fact. And Nicholas deserved children—he also deserved not to be bled dry, which is what the man who was blackmailing her would do if she married Nick.

“You and Mamma love each other,” she said—though since discovering the truth, she wondered how her mother could love her father all these years and lie to him. “Do I not deserve to marry a man I love?”

“Aye, lass,” he said in a gentle voice. “But I know you too well. You love Nick. Now, you can tell me what’s bothering you or not, but I will not have a repeat of what happened this afternoon.”

She tensed. “What happened this afternoon?”

“I know you went to the west wing with Lord Beaumond.”

Josephine startled. Surely, Nick hadn’t told her father she had tried to seduce Lord Beaumond? “When did it become a crime to walk with a gentleman?” she asked.

“It is inappropriate for a young, unmarried woman to be alone with a man—as you know. I thank God Nicholas found you and not someone else.”

She seethed. Nicholas had the nerve to tell her father he’d found her with Beaumond, but she would wager he hadn’t said a word about what he had done to her. A tremor went through her with the memory.

“I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” she said, and Nicholas would soon learn that, for she would not allow him to touch her intimately again.

“On that we might disagree,” her father replied, his earlier compassion gone. “But you know that such behavior for a betrothed woman is scandalous. Beware,” he added, when she opened her mouth to interrupt, “you might think a scandal will cause Nicholas to cry off without consequence, but he is determined not to make the same mistake he made six years ago and let you go.”

Her pulse skittered at the thought of not being able to escape Nick, then her ire piqued at her own weakness, and she said, “Then he had better beware. For the girl he let go is no longer a girl.”

Her father’s expression hardened. “Aye, she isn’t. I will make myself plain, Daughter. If you are disloyal to Nicholas before your marriage, I will force you to marry the man with whom you dishonor yourself. Can you imagine yourself married to Beaumond?”

Jo gasped.

“So I thought,” he said. “And make no mistake, I will not risk you giving birth to a bastard. Have you forgotten that as the eldest daughter, the title and all our property passes through you?”

Nay, she thought bitterly. She hadn’t forgotten. That fact was half of what plagued her.

“Nicholas has proven himself worthy to run my estates and give you a son who can take my title along with his title,” her father went on. “I will not have you throw it away in a tantrum.”

“A tantrum—”

“You’re a grown woman acting like a spoilt child,” he cut her off. “I have had enough.” He rose. “Try me, and I will take even more drastic measures.”

Josephine’s heart pounded. What could be more drastic than forcing her to marry a man like Lord Beaumond?

Her father’s gaze sharpened on her. “You may wonder what can be worse than being forced to marry the man you duped into taking your chastity.”

Her father was right, she thought with frustration. He did know her too well.

He lifted a brow. “Perhaps it is marrying the man you love.”