The Nightingale Legacy (22 page)

“Oh, it’s not your problem, North. Forgive me, I was just so very angry and Regina came here without my even telling her where I wanted to go. What did you do to my mare, other than change her name? She dotes on you. It’s quite revolting. I’ve fed her and loved her since she was foaled, yet all her loyalty lands on your lap after only a couple of days.”

“You really should give Regina to me.”

“No, I shan’t. Why didn’t Treetop fall in love with me? I treated him well, sang to him, as a matter of fact. No, he saw you and came running. He couldn’t wait to get away from me. It’s not fair.”

“Call me magic,” he said.

“All right, that’s fair, but about the horses—”

“Caroline, just stop it.”

She sighed. “Oh, you’ll like this. Coombe nearly expired on the spot when he opened the door to find me standing there, flicking my riding crop against my boot, picturing it as Bennett’s back.”

“I can imagine,” North said. “Now, Caroline, what do you want from me?”

She studied him, then said quietly, “I want you to hold me, just hold me, North, and then, perhaps, if that turns out satisfactorily, you could consider kissing me and caressing me with your hands like you did before. It was wonderful. I liked everything you did.”

He shuddered and didn’t move. His hands were clenched at his sides. “Go away, Caroline. I have business to attend to. I have no more time for any of this. If you want me to kill Bennett, just ask. As for the other, go away. I’m not at all interested in any of it.”

“Oh no, I won’t go away,” she said, and walked to him.
He stood rigid as a stick but it didn’t deter her. Mrs. Trebaw was right—life was too uncertain to dither about. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. She touched her fingers to his chin, to his nose, to his dark eyebrows, smoothing them lightly. “You are so beautiful, North. Please kiss me.”

“Damn you,” he said, “I’m a man. I’m not beautiful. I told you, men are big and ungainly and—” and he kissed her. He tried not to touch her but that didn’t last long. Very quickly she was in his arms, his hands wild on her back, clutching her tightly to him, then easing, only to cup her buttocks and lift her against him. He was breathing hard, and his tongue was in her mouth, touching her, tasting her, and he wanted, quite simply, to yell with the pleasure of it.

“My lord.”

He wanted to pull up her riding skirts, to feel the soft flesh of her thighs, to billow her skirts and petticoats up around her chest, to have her naked to the waist, her beautiful legs parted for him so he could…

“My lord!”

“Oh hell,” he said into her mouth. He was shaking like a palsy sufferer, so intent on what she was making him feel, on what he wanted to do to her, on just having her now, here in the drawing room. Lord he wanted to touch her flesh, feel the dampness of her, her need for him, kiss that delightful smile off her mouth and bring on a moan instead.

“My lord, this is most inappropriate; it is unacceptable from everyone’s perspective. You must gather yourself together and pull yourself apart from the Female Person. We have guests and they cannot be ignored.”

Slowly, breathing deeply to regain a semblance of control, North eased out of her hold. She was standing there, just staring up at him, and he saw something in her green eyes that scared the devil out of him. He knew trust when he saw it and it was there, deep and clear in her eyes, as clear as
the passion that was still burning brightly between them.

“Caroline,” he said very quietly. “It’s damnable and I’m sorry. Just hold still. Try to keep upright. Can you manage it?”

She nodded, mute as a fig leaf.

North turned to Coombe. “You will leave immediately and close the door behind you. What guests?”

“It’s Sir Rafael and Lady Victoria Carstairs, my lord.”

North cursed very quietly and very fluently. “Tell them I will be with them shortly. Invite them to luncheon and take them to the dining room.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Get out, Coombe, now.”

“Yes, my lord.”

North waited until the door closed, then he strode over to it and locked it. He turned to look at her, this young girl who made him feel things he’d never imagined to be possible, at least within himself. She was standing there, her arms at her sides, her breasts still heaving just a bit, her lips still slightly parted, and he wanted desperately to go back to her, to hold her against him, to kiss her and perhaps kiss her even more than another good dozen times, on her mouth, her throat, her breasts. She was wearing a jaunty green riding hat with a feather that curled about her face, a dark green that nearly matched her eyes. It was lurching to the right side. Tendrils of rich chestnut hair curled in tangles down her neck. She looked drunk. He wondered if he looked the same way. God, he had to get her away from him. He shook himself. “Caroline, I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that, North. It’s quite unnecessary. You shouldn’t be sorry, for I’m assuredly not, and since I’m the virgin here, the one whose experience amounts to what you choose to dole out, doesn’t it seem that my wishes should count the most?”

“No, you haven’t a whit of sense. A virgin is supposed to shriek with outrage and cross her hands over her bosom. A virgin is supposed to slap a man if he does what I just did to you… not moan and hold me like you’ll die if I quit kissing you and caressing you and pressing your belly against me… . Oh, damn it all, Caroline, you’re mad. Will you remain for lunch and meet our neighbors?”

“Certainly,” she said, and tried to straighten her clothes. She walked to the mantel and tucked and patted her hair into place as she looked into the mirror. “How delightful of you to extend me an invitation.”

“I don’t want to,” he said as he took her arm. “But I see no other choice. If you were to leave without introduction, they would believe you my mistress, a female of no importance at all. You’re their neighbor as well. You must meet them.”

“Yes,” she said, giving him a grin that made him want to kiss her again and smack her at the same time. “I see that now, though I can’t say that I would have understood anything so complicated a few minutes ago.”

“Be quiet, Caroline.”

Caroline left Mount Hawke in the middle afternoon. It had been drizzling lightly, but now it had stopped and a bit of sun was peeping through the still-lingering dark clouds. She rode Regina to St. Agnes Head. She dismounted and walked to the edge of the cliff. She stood there, just looking out over the choppy water, watching it crash against the black rocks below, spewing spray halfway up the cliff.

“Who did this to you, Aunt Eleanor?”

Regina nickered softly behind her.

She sighed and began to walk along the edge, careful to stay back from the earth that looked loose from the rainfall. She found a path some fifty yards up from where Aunt
Eleanor had been shoved over the cliff. It was the huge beach North had showed her, shaped like a big quarter moon, the cliffs towering high behind it, stark and barren. Slowly, very carefully, she made her way down the narrow path. It was strewn with small rocks and some not so small, and some she had to lift out of the way. No one had walked this path in quite some time, probably not since summer, when local children came here to swim. It took her ten minutes to reach the beach below. The sand was wet with the incoming tide. It was dark and dirty-looking, particularly with no bright sun overhead to soften the colors. Driftwood and rocks strewed the beach, which was very long, really, and deep, curving into darkness beneath the cliff. She wondered how far back the beach extended under the cliff. Next time she should bring a candle and explore. The rock looked to be shale and sandstone, and that’s why it had eroded so severely over time. She turned about and stared out at the sea. She imagined that at high tide most of the beach was covered in water, perhaps it went all the way to the cliff.

She sat down on a large black rock and hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. It was chilly, but not that chilly. It felt good. She looked at the waves rolling in, never the same, but always ending the same with the waves tossing themselves as far as they could reach on the beach, fanning out white and wispy into the sand, then withdrawing, again and again.

She didn’t want to dither, she didn’t want to just let life happen to her. She didn’t want to be like Mr. Trebaw, who’d evidently not done very much. She wanted to be responsible for her life, to make decisions for herself. She didn’t want life to get away from her and leave her wallowing in something she didn’t want. But there was North, the man she wanted, and all he seemed to feel for her was his damnable lust and his wretched indifference, and even though
she was fighting with all her might, it just didn’t look hopeful. She sighed and hugged her knees closer to her chest. She watched a sand crab scuttle to and fro for a good long time before it sank under the sand. What was she to do? How to make North agree to make her the happiest woman on earth?

“I won’t stand for this, Caroline. You scared the devil out of me, damn you.”

S
HE JUMPED, FELT
her heart slam against her chest in fear, but for only a moment. Surely he couldn’t be all that indifferent, since he was here. She turned, smiling, and said, “Hello, North. I’m sorry I frightened you. I wanted to think and I came upon this path and came down to the beach. Remember, you showed it to me? Why are you here?”

He looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I was out riding. I was going to visit Wheal David, then I just came here. When I saw Regina and didn’t see you I thought you’d gone over the cliff. Don’t ever scare me like that again, Caroline.”

She smiled more widely. “I won’t.”

“See that you don’t or I’ll throttle you.”

“All right,” she said, still smiling, for she knew as well as he did that if he allowed himself to lace his fingers about her neck, he’d soon be kissing her.

“Stop it, Caroline.”

She just shrugged and looked out over the dark water. “I liked the Carstairses. Lady Victoria wasn’t at all ordinary. She’s very pretty and very charming. Her husband adores her. He’s very possibly nearly as handsome as you are, not as handsome, mind you, but nearly.”

“She’s also pregnant.”

“Really? She’s quite slender. How do you know that she’s pregnant?”

He frowned at her. “You’re a damned female, couldn’t you tell?”

“Well, no. You’re a damned man, so how did you know?”

His frown cleared and he said with a man’s wonderful arrogance, “There’s a look about her, a sort of radiance, and her husband was very careful when he touched her. It’s really quite obvious.” He looked thoughtful, then said, “I’d say she was about three months along.”

“Goodness, I had no idea you were so observant, North. I needn’t have bothered Dr. Treath at all. You could have simply looked at all my pregnant ladies and told them to do this and to do that. I’m very impressed.”

He looked distinctly harassed. “Very well, you don’t believe me. At least I tried. I heard Rafael tell her that he wouldn’t caress her breasts no matter how much she wanted him to because he knew she was tender and he might hurt her. He told her to be patient, that Dr. Treath had told him that she would become less tender in a month or so. Then he would caress her all she wished. And then she said that she didn’t think he would hurt her because he could be gentle when he wasn’t dancing about the room, holding her with her legs wrapped around his… er, forget that. There, are you pleased now that you’ve pried it out of me?”

“I didn’t realize that a woman’s breasts got tender.”

“Caroline! Dammit, control your mouth. That is highly improper, you shouldn’t even know about—”

“Breasts? Being pregnant?”

“Be quiet. Now, what are you doing here?”

“Thinking.”

“About your aunt?”

She shook her head, looking away from him at the encroaching tide that had just tumbled a huge splaying wave that finally flattened only two feet from the big rock where
she sat. “No, I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how one should take charge of one’s life. I was remembering how I was so very lonely for such a long time and how now there’s so much for me to do that I scarce even have time now to remember that other life and that other Caroline.”

He went still as the rock she was sitting on.

“That’s quite a lot, Caroline. However, if you were thinking about me in all that morass, you will stop it now. I don’t want you thinking about me, Caroline.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m simply not interested in you.”

The lie was so blatantly false that she merely stared at him with as much fascination as she would study an aphid sitting atop a rose.

“Very well, you force me to be blunt again. I told you it was all lust. Well, it is. If you weren’t so damned innocent, you’d be able to recognize lust for what it is. No, I take that back. You damned women, you want to wrap up a man in sentimental rot, you want him to ply you with flattery and roses and romance and spiritual intermingling.”

“Then why did you come looking for me? Perhaps you wanted to make love to me? To assuage your lust?”

It was his turn to look toward the waves since one just missed spewing over the toe of his Hessian boot. He took a step back. “Rafael is assisting me with my tin mines. Wheal David is a mess and there are still no answers. I may have to close it down until we figure out what to do. However, Wheal Malcolm is doing well, so I will have as many of the men working over there as I can.” He stopped a moment and sighed. “But there is still so much I need to learn.”

“I as well. I sent Owen to begin his lessons with Mr. Peetree, my manager.”

“Ah, good, so Owen will deal with the mines. It’s not a lady’s responsibility to get involved with them.”

“Why ever not, North?”

“It’s a man’s sort of thing and well you know it. The miners are rough and tough and well used to danger since it’s a part of their lives. It would distract them to have a woman prancing about the mine.”

“That sounds like a mare trying to tempt a stallion. Would it interest you if I pranced?”