Of Noble Birth (27 page)

Alexandra didn’t say
anything, but she was glad for the delay. They’d arrive in London
soon enough. She took a deep breath as the stranglehold of emotion
that had squeezed her heart all day lessened just a bit.
A few more hours,
she
thought. A few more hours were better than nothing.

* * *

The inn was on the
outskirts of town, just beyond a series of small farms. A string of
squat buildings with thatch roofs, it was old, but the proprietor
and his wife kept the place clean and in good repair.

Nathaniel rented several
rooms for the eight of them, and made Garth guard the marquess. He
knew Garth was tired, but Clifton was easier to control when
Nathaniel wasn’t near him. Nathaniel didn’t want to end up killing
the boy during the night, which was, at times, no small
temptation.

Besides, he had enough to
worry about. The closer he came to freeing Alexandra, the more
reluctant he was to do so.

Using one of the keys the
steward had given him, he opened a door at the end of a dimly lit
corridor and motioned Alexandra inside. “You’ll sleep here
tonight,” he said. He was tempted to follow her in, but forced his
feet to continue on to the next room.

She stepped back into the
hall long enough to watch him open his own door. “You’re going to
trust me?” she asked.

“You have no reason to go
anywhere. I’m already taking you to London.”

“Don’t you think I’ll
implement some desperate plot to save the marquess? Isn’t that what
you were afraid I’d do in Bristol?”

“My father doesn’t live in
this town,” he countered. “Besides, I don’t think you’re foolish
enough to risk Lord Clifton’s life. Garth is tired and
bad-tempered. A stupid move would only get my half brother shot,
and possibly yourself as well.”

Nathaniel knew that he was
the one who sounded tired and bad-tempered, but it provided a safe
facade behind which to hide his true feelings. “Good
night.”

Alexandra smiled and
nodded before entering her own room. She closed the door, and he
wondered if she was pleased with her newfound privacy. His own room
seemed cold and empty without her. After spending the past few
weeks in such close proximity, he’d become accustomed to
Alexandra’s presence—the small sounds she made in her sleep, the
way she arranged his few personal belongings on the wash-stand, the
womanly smell of her.

But he dared not place
temptation in his path tonight. He was too close to releasing her.
Besides the fact that he had made her miss her aunt’s ship, she
wasn’t much worse off than she’d been when he’d snatched her, now
that her injury was almost healed. If he allowed the desire that
curled around his heart and tightened his groin to take control,
however...

Nathaniel tried to direct
his thoughts away from Alexandra. Dwelling on her would only
undermine his resolve, which felt amazingly weak already. Stripping
off his clothes, he crossed to the washstand and busied himself
washing up. As he did so, his mind’s eye presented him with a
picture of Alexandra doing the same, and he felt the familiar pull
that threatened to be his undoing.

Plunging his head beneath
the water, he scrubbed his hair. After toweling off, he forced
himself to lie down, even though he could hear Alexandra moving
about next door, and knew he’d never be able to sleep.

* * *

Alexandra paced the floor
of her room. She was grateful for the reprieve from the
bone-jarring carriage ride, but the large featherbed shoved against
one wall held no appeal for her. She could think only of
Nathaniel.

The memory of their last
kiss played in her mind, causing something deep inside her to stir.
She longed to feel his touch again, if only for a brief
moment.

She poured herself a glass
of water from the pitcher on the washstand. He couldn’t burn for
her the way she burned for him if he could set her free so easily,
she thought, irritated at her own foolish craving. No doubt she had
misinterpreted the many times his hand had brushed her arm
throughout the day, the looks he’d given her. He felt responsible
for her current precarious situation, nothing more, and he was
doing what he could to make it right.

A soft knock at the door
interrupted Alexandra’s musings. Casting a quick glance in the
mirror, she hurried across the floor. Her brushed and gleaming hair
fell to her waist, framing a flushed face, and she wore what she
had worn throughout her convalescence—Nathaniel’s shirt.

At the door she paused,
knowing better than to open it. It could be anyone, though deep
down, she knew it was him. “Who is it?”

“Nathaniel.”

Alexandra unbolted the
door and opened it a crack to see the pirate captain standing in
the hall, wearing only his trousers and boots. His broad chest
gleamed in the light of the lamps that lit the hallway, though his
eyes were as dark as pits. She couldn’t see what emotion smoldered
inside them. She could only feel the current that ran between them
like a physical force, pulling them together.

She resisted whatever
compelled her to rush into his arms, knowing that to succumb to
such desire would be foolhardy. Her heart was already in jeopardy;
she didn’t want Nathaniel to own her soul as well. Still, to her
own mortification, she stepped back so he could enter.

Nathaniel’s hair was wet,
and Alexandra could smell the scent of freshly washed skin as he
stepped across the threshold. She wanted to reach out and touch
him, to knead his thick muscles, but she knew the slightest contact
would ignite a flame so intense it would be difficult to
extinguish.

Perhaps he had come for a
reason. Perhaps he needed to tell her something.

When Nathaniel turned to
face her, Alexandra knew he hadn’t come to talk. He reached out and
captured one of her hands with his own, then kissed each
fingertip.

Before his touch left her
completely senseless, she pulled away, eager to have the advantage
over him, since she so rarely possessed it.

“Is there a problem with
your room?” she asked, trying to sound flippant.

His eyes narrowed and his
voice lowered almost to a growl. “Don’t tease me tonight,
Alexandra. Your lips may say one thing, but your eyes tell an
entirely different story.”

“Which is better than my
lying to you outright, like you did to me at Bristol.”

“I had good reason for
leaving you on the
Vengeance.’“

“And you’re not to be
questioned, is that it?”

“You can ask, but I might
not answer.” He smiled and moved toward her, his eyes smoldering as
he again took her hand and kissed her palm. “Besides, you had your
revenge in the carriage today, and you know it.”

Alexandra couldn’t help
but smile. She’d been right about her interest in the marquess
bothering the pirate captain. “Still, you made a bargain you didn’t
keep,” she reminded him.

“If it’s honesty you want,
I’m ready to tell you anything you want to hear.”

Alexandra easily detected
the mirth in his words as his lips started moving up her arm.
“Isn’t there something contradictory about that
statement?”

He chuckled. “Everything
about us is contradictory, except this.” He nuzzled the curve of
her neck below her left ear as his fingers found the baby hairs at
her nape.

“And this is honest?” she
asked, scarcely able to breathe as his mouth moved toward her
lips.

“Can you think of anything
more so?”

Alexandra had no answer
for that. Her mind might prevaricate, and insist she had no
interest in him, but her body refused to lie.

She groaned and swayed
toward him as his mouth found hers. His tongue parted her lips and
flicked against her teeth before making deep thrusts that mimicked
the complete possession to come.

Alexandra wondered if
Nathaniel did indeed mean to extract her very soul. She felt the
strength of the arm that encircled her, the rapid but sure beat of
his heart beneath her hand on his chest, and her own resistance
began to slip away.

But scarcely had her hands
found their way up Nathaniel’s back and into the thickness of his
hair than a loud
thud
came from Garth’s room next door.

Clifton!

Nathaniel pulled back, a
look of panic seizing his features as he darted back into the
hall.

* * *

Nathaniel crashed through
the door to see the marquess grappling with Garth on the ground.
The two were fighting for control of Garth’s pistol, and first one
then the other gained advantage. Grabbing the knife from his boot,
Nathaniel leaped over the bed to reach them just as Clifton managed
to roll on top. His half brother had got ahold of the gun, but
Nathaniel wrapped his arm around Clifton’s neck and lay the blade
against his throat.

“That’s enough,” Nathaniel
said through gritted teeth.

Lord Clifton
froze.

“Drop the gun.”

Sensing the marquess’s
hesitancy, Nathaniel pressed the knife deeper into his skin, until
a drop of blood rolled down over his thumb. “I’m not playing
games.”

The marquess dropped the
gun as Samuel, John, and the others congregated just inside the
open doorway.

“What happened?” John
asked.

Garth was breathing
heavily as Clifton got off him. “I don’t know. I tied him up, then
turned around to close the shutters. The next thing I knew, he
attacked me.” He sat up and swiped at a small stream of blood that
trickled from his mouth. “I don’t know how he managed to get out of
the ropes, but he hit me with something, then went for my
gun.”

Nathaniel cursed. It had
already been a long journey, and it wasn’t getting any easier. “Tie
him up again,” he told Samuel.

“I’ll do it,” John
volunteered. “He might not be able to feel the hand he’s got left,
or his feet, but he’ll not get free again.”

* * *

When Alexandra knew that
Nathaniel was safe and all was once again in order, she left her
vigil in the hall and went back into her room, closing the door
behind her. She knew Nathaniel would not be back. Together they had
stood at the edge of a yawning emotional precipice and nearly
tossed themselves over the side. But she wasn’t willing to risk so
much again. She had no future with Nathaniel. She couldn’t give her
heart to a criminal, not if she wanted a house, and a family, and
some degree of assurance that her husband would come safely home
each night. And she knew the pirate captain’s plans didn’t include
her, either.

Alexandra listened as
footsteps approached the door and paused on the other side. Leaning
against the panel, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath,
hoping all in the same moment that Nathaniel wouldn’t knock
again—and that he would.

An eternity passed, it
seemed, but finally she heard the floor creak as he moved away. She
had been right. He would not return.

Feeling empty and
deprived, Alexandra moved to the bed and lay down. Her lips tingled
from his kiss, and her arms ached with the need to hold him again,
but she wasn’t a fool. He could never marry her, and she knew
it.

She only wished she could
stop her traitorous heart from wanting him.

* * *

Nathaniel and Alexandra
spoke little when they started out again at dawn. Lord Clifton’s
swollen lip and a bruise showing just below one eye told her
Nathaniel’s men had exacted their revenge for his attempted escape.
But they seemed in no better humor for having beat him.

The marquess was sullen as
well, and the ride passed almost in complete silence. The few
attempts Tiny made to draw Nathaniel out were met with terse
responses, until the big man gave up and lapsed into watching the
countryside pass by his window.

By the time their coach
reached the fields of strawberries outside London, darkness had
fallen. A paper moon hung low in the sky, cloaked in the same mist
that encompassed the sprawling metropolis ahead.

Alexandra felt a measure
of relief as they passed fresh gravel pits and new brick kilns,
knowing the tiresome journey would soon be over. Her right shoulder
was beginning to pain her again, and she longed to rest. Evidently
she had not recovered from the gunshot wound as well as she had
thought.

“Are you all right?”
Nathaniel asked when she allowed herself to sag against
him.

She nodded. Lord Clifton
had fallen asleep, but Nathaniel remained watchful and
pensive.

“London is a big place,”
she murmured. Despite all she had heard, Alexandra was surprised to
see how crowded the city was. Buildings appeared to be stacked one
on top of the other, creating tall brick walls that turned the
avenues into canyons.

The streets were rivers of
filth. A combination of rotting garbage, horse excrement, and urine
ran in the gutters, creating a terrible stench, but the homeless
men, women, and children huddled in doorways or crouched on the
ground held Alexandra’s attention the longest. Whether old, new,
rich, poor, pleasant, or vile, everything seemed more extreme in
London.