The Nude (full-length historical romance) (17 page)

Her reputation couldn’t stand being caught in the dark lord’s clutches like this. She didn’t trust his servants to keep quiet about what they might suppose she was doing alone with him.

“Let go of me,” she demanded, in not quite a shout.

“No. Explain it to me, what exactly did Dionysus do to you?”

She twisted again, her hands burning from his unbreakable hold. Tears sprang to her eyes.

“What did he do to you, dammit?” He gave her a little shake. “You need to trust me, to tell me what happened.”

“The paintings,” she cried. “He gave me paintings.”

“The paintings.”

“Every one more beautiful than the last. They made my heart ache. They made me love him. But they weren’t from him. Or rather, Lord Mercer gave Dionysus’s paintings to me as if they were his own.” She drew an unsteady breath. “Don’t you see? They conspired together. They lied to me. Tricked me. I would have never married Lord Mercer if it hadn’t been for those cursed paintings.”

Edgeware’s hands turned cold. “You were unhappy in your marriage?”

“I wish I had never met the bounder,” she confessed for the first time in her life. Perhaps it was because of the darkness. Or perhaps it was because the way he held her so very close made her want to bare her heart to him. “He was a monster. He didn’t have a drop of kindness in his blood. And I became just like him—a monster of another sort—the day I celebrated his death.”

“I didn’t know.” He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his strong chest as she lost her battle holding back the tears.

For too long she had kept this secret, pretending her marriage was everything it was supposed to be. The pain she’d held at bay ripped through her. If not for Edgeware’s strength, she would have surely been torn apart by the years of pent up grief and anger swelling within her. In that terrible moment, her dark lord was her rock. Though he held himself stiff, unbending, she felt safe.

“Forgive me,” she said as soon as she was able to pull herself together and ease out of his embrace. “You must think me evil to bewail what many would say was a fortunate marriage. Please forget I said anything. I am overly tired.” She dabbed at her nose with the handkerchief she’d retrieved from a sleeve and skirted around him. He didn’t make a move when she tossed open the door. “I do apologize.”

“Don’t—” he said with his back to her.

She didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. She fled like a thief in the night from the kitchens, glancing over her shoulder only once to see him standing in the buttery doorway. Such naked longing was reflected in his eyes that it stole her breath.

She’d been wrong about him yet again. Though she’d feared his strength, he hadn’t used it against her just now. Instead, he’d wrapped his power around her like a magical cloak. Unlike any gentleman she had ever known, he seemed desperate to help her.

* * * * *

An hour later, Elsbeth joined her cousins on the archery field. The sun was shining bright enough to have completely burned away the morning fog. In a lush part of the field, the ladies had gathered, dressed in their most fashionable promenade gowns, which Elsbeth thought was impracticable attire for demonstrating their skills.

When newly out of the schoolroom, she’d enjoyed archery matches, mainly because her skills were unmatched with the neighboring ladies. But despite the pleasant weather and the excitement of the friendly competition, she found it nearly impossible to enjoy herself. She toyed with the long wooden bow in her hand, plucking the taut string while her thoughts tumbled through the morning’s events and her shocking confession to Lord Edgeware about her unhappy marriage. Part of her was mortified and wished she could take back her words. Another part of her wished she had told him the full truth of her marriage. Edgeware had made her feel safe. Confiding her secrets had been easy. Perhaps too easy.

“Elly, pray pay attention. We are all waiting for you to take your shot,” Olivia said and pointed toward the round, straw-stuffed target.

The young ladies were watching her. Their elder chaperones had also turned their heads to watch from the wicker chairs that had been set off to one side. They were all looking at her . . . and a few were smiling.

Lauretta, Elsbeth noticed, was standing next to Lady Cowper, and the two women were chatting amicably. Only Lady Dashborough and her younger daughter, Lady Constance, appeared less than pleased with Elsbeth’s presence on the archery field.

Elsbeth drew an arrow from a leather quiver hanging on a wooded stake. She stroked the feathered end before setting it on the bow. The target had been placed at a distance generally reserved for the gentlemen. As a result, several of the ladies’ arrows had fallen short and stuck out of the ground like pins in a cushion. The few that had struck their goal had completely missed the center of the target.

As she drew back the string, the ladies all grew silent save for a giggle here and there. Though such consideration hadn’t been given to any of the other participants, Elsbeth wasn’t surprised. She understood only too well how closely her every action was being watched and judged. Because of that, she took her time as she aimed—praying that time hadn’t erased her abilities. She raised the bow higher to compensate for the longer distance. Holding her breath, she released the string.

With a thunk her arrow pierced the target very close to the center. Not a heartbeat later a second arrow sailed past her so closely that its breeze teased the ribbons on her bonnet. That errant arrow landed with an even louder thunk as it pierced the center of the target, hugging the spot Elsbeth’s arrow had already taken.

The ladies cheered with delight.

Elsbeth blinked, unable to take her eyes off that second arrow. She certainly wasn’t cheering when she turned around to see which young lady had played such a reckless trick. She hoped their hostess, Lady Waver, would have some stern words with whoever the young lady turned out to be.

Their hostess had risen from her wicker chair, but her mood was as bright as the sky. She was clapping and beaming a smile as genteel as the rest of the matrons. Elsbeth’s searching gaze quickly brought her face-to-face with the cause for their excitement.

Edgeware leaned upon his bow as if it were a fashionable walking stick. The smug expression on his lips told her all she needed to know—he’d purposefully sent his arrow whizzing past her and was confoundingly proud of himself for it, too.

“Ladies, I see the archery competition has been a resounding success,” he said. His rich voice hummed through Elsbeth’s body as if it were an intimate caress. Her cursed knees were on the verge of turning to jelly. “Naturally, I come prepared to present a reward to the victor.”

He produced a simple white daisy. Holding the bloom out toward Elsbeth, he went down onto one knee, making him look as valiant as the Robin Hood his green riding jacket had made him resemble.

“For your favor, my lady,” he said softly.

The ladies on the field all sighed with delight. Elsbeth couldn’t seem to breathe as she accepted the prize. She lifted the soft bloom to her nose and drank in its mild, sweet scent.

“And a stroll,” he said. That wolfish gleam returned to darken his eyes.

“A stroll?” She didn’t want to be alone with him, not with her heart all twisted up with no small measure of confusion.

“In the gardens.” He rose to his feet and offered his arm.

“I am sorry, but I cannot,” she said, backing away. Why in blazes was he trying to get her alone again?

“My lord, if Lady Mercer is unable, I will gladly take her place,” Lady Constance said as she rushed over to them, stopping just short of latching onto his arm. She, too, must have sensed the spark of disapproval in him. After taking a long look at his stony expression and raised brow, her coy smile froze on her lips.

“I have a duty as chaperone to my cousins, sir. I cannot leave them,” Elsbeth quickly explained, hoping to soothe his bruised pride.

He shook his head. “I am sorry, my lady, but the prize must go to the victor.” With delicate grace, he lifted the daisy she was in danger of crushing between her fingers and threaded its stem through the ribbon of her bonnet. “Lady Waver,” he called without looking away. Those hard, hungry eyes gnawed at her resolve. But how could she survive spending any time alone with him after having confessed to him her deepest shame?

“Yes, Edgeware?” Lady Waver called back.

“Would you be so kind to watch over Lady Mercer’s charges for half an hour while she strolls the gardens with me?”

“Of course, Lord Edgeware. Baneshire’s daughters are such lovely company, it would be a pleasure.”

He held out his arm again. “Any other objections, my lady?”

With her chin raised and her lips held firmly in place, she accepted his arm. A walk in the gardens wouldn’t be a terrible thing, she told herself. His manner reminded her of a playful pup’s. Certainly, her confession hadn’t shocked him. Certainly, he hadn’t sought her out just to scold her or condemn her for not having loved her husband. Still, she was uncertain.

What was a lady to do when one of the most elusive bachelors of the
beau monde
showed an interest in her, romantically tucking ribbons into her bonnet? What defense could a lady possibly use to guard her heart against such a man? A man who now knew her deepest secret? She couldn’t seem to stop her heart from racing as he led her through the arched entranceway that led into a tidy, privet-hedge labyrinth.

“There is a surprise at the center,” he promised, his voice deepening a degree.

“I won’t kiss you again,” she said a bit too tartly.

“As I have said before—” he patted her hand “—I won’t press you to do anything you don’t wish to do. I won’t even mention a certain matter that might cause you pain.”

“You won’t?” she asked, suddenly wishing she hadn’t renewed her vow not to kiss him.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression or to think of me as the worst sort of cad, Elsbeth. I want you to feel completely safe around me. I want you to trust me.”

He stopped in the middle of the path. “You may not believe this, but I do need you to know that Dionysus has never done anything to purposefully harm you.” He pressed a finger against her lips when she started to argue. “What appears to be his plotting against you were, both times, situations that were beyond his control. In fact, it tears at his heart to think that he has caused you harm. You must believe that.”

“I believe you plan to do everything in your power to protect me,” she said, for Edgeware did truly appear to be a good man. Perhaps, like herself, he was too trusting, blindly believing Dionysus’s lies.

“Good,” he said. “I am glad.”

“But I will never again trust Dionysus, and neither should you.”

“I assure you, I trust him no more than I trust myself, which sometimes isn’t very much.” He smiled ruefully when she backed away from him. “Don’t be alarmed, dove. You’re safe with me.” He led her down a twisting path through the labyrinth. The hedge walls extended several feet over her head and were so thick that she could barely see daylight through them. She glanced around, realizing just how isolated they were. Such a vulnerable situation should have left her trembling.

Oddly, she felt safe. And it was the dark lord’s doing.

He’d been so careful as he eased his way past her defenses. She closed her eyes and lost herself for a moment in the feelings of longing swelling deep within her.

She wanted to trust him completely. She truly did. She wanted to love—

“Please,” she said, and opened her eyes. Very slowly she reached out to him and slipped her hand into his. It was a heady feeling to have her hand nestled within his strong grasp and her fingers entwined with his.

“About misplaced trust,” he said as they strolled. “I have had some stern words with my cousin, Mr. Purbeck. He will no longer treat you with disrespect.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Nor will I treat you shabbily. My initial intention for the week had been to seduce you. I had thought I would use my charms to distract you from searching for Dionysus.”

“I know,” she said, unable to think of any other way to respond to such a bald declaration.

“
You do
?”

She nodded. “I’m not an innocent taking her first turn on the Marriage Mart. I do know something of men and their intentions.”

“I suppose you must.” He sighed. “I had planned to . . . but after that kiss this morning, and our . . . um . . . discussion this afternoon, I have changed my mind. Seducing you in order to bend your will would prove too complicated. There is a strong attraction between us, pulling at us. I know you feel it.