The Uncatchable Miss Faversham (19 page)

    Eleanor shook her head. But he caught what looked suspiciously like a flash of amusement in her eyes and felt his temper rise again.

    ‘You find this entertaining? What if she miscarries?’

    ‘Why should she?’ Eleanor retorted, easily matching his lengthy stride. ‘Charlotte seems in excellent health, and if she were to be taken ill, there are many good doctors in London - ’

    He stopped, gripping her by the shoulders. They were standing under the shadow of a great yew hedge, half-hidden from the house by trees, equidistant between the flaming torches that lit the avenue. He had travelled down from Warwickshire throughout the day, changing horses as often as he could, and once he had ascertained where Charlotte was that evening, had barely stopped at his hotel long enough to change into something presentable before taking himself off to Lady de Lassau’s ball in search of his runaway sister.

    In consequence he was tired, irascible, and not in a mood to play this game according to society’s ridiculous rules of
politesse
.

    ‘Tell me the truth, Eleanor. What happened here tonight? Did I ruin your little game with Lovett? You came out here willingly enough, after all. He did not coerce you.’

    It was insanity to feel this way for a woman of her reputation, yet he was still eaten up by the thought that she might prefer that smooth-chinned young fool to him. The suspicion gnawed at him intolerably. She had struggled in Lovett’s arms, but that could have been clever play-acting, the expected response of a virgin – which they both knew she was not. She had struggled in his arms too, after all.

    ‘Did you want him to make love to you?’ he insisted, watching her through narrowed eyes.

    Yet why should she not prefer the younger man? Lovett was still able-bodied, unmarked by war or disillusion. He had never seen the carnage of the battlefield. He had never witnessed a friend dying next to him, nor taken a man’s life. Nor had he lain in a cold ditch all night with his face cut to ribbons and a gash in his leg wide enough to drive a carriage through, waiting for his last morning on earth with the sour taste of impending death in his mouth.

    Lovett was not good marriage material, with his family now in trade and his social standing non-existent. But there were other reasons than marriage for a woman to want to be alone with a man.

    Nathaniel’s mouth tightened. In the past, he had insulted Miss Eleanor Faversham to her face and called her by every name possible in the privacy of his own heart. Yet he would be the greatest hypocrite alive were he to accuse Eleanor of the same sin of which he was so guilty, namely that of allowing physical need to cloud good judgement.

    ‘Well, did you?’ he repeated huskily.

    Any other lady would have fought to be free, accused him of being no better than the opportunist Lovett. But not Eleanor.

    She stood patiently under his tight grip, frowning up into his face.

    ‘Of course not,’ she whispered.

    A thrill ran through him at her reply, his hands tightening helplessly on her shoulders.

    Damn it, he was still in love with her. What a fool he must be. With so many errors between them too. So many harsh, unforgivable words. If only they could start afresh.

    Even as he thought that, he knew it to be an impossibility. They were not two young people in love anymore. She was the Uncatchable Miss Faversham and he ... he was an old soldier, tired and wracked with pain after today’s arduous journey from Warwickshire. This was one fight he could not hope to win, yet here he was, still standing tongue-tied in front of her.

    What had him dream that a beauty like Eleanor could ever want a man who was
damaged
?

Nathaniel had fallen into some bitter reverie, Eleanor realised, watching him in silence. She was deeply grateful that he had arrived just in time to save her from her own stupidity, coming out here alone with Lovett. And his devotion to his sister was really quite touching, chasing her all the way from Warwickshire and even braving the stares of the ton at this ball.

    To her own surprise, her gloved hand came up to touch his scarred cheek. ‘Nathaniel,’ she murmured. ‘I ...’

    Eleanor stopped, unable to finish her sentence. What could she tell him? That she thought – feared, suspected – that she had fallen in love with him?

    Love was an emotion she could not voice aloud. Not with Lord Sallinger. He was too near to her heart, too dangerously close to snatching her from the ashes of her solitude, scorching her with the heat of his presence.

    And what of his mistress back in Warwickshire, Rose Underwood? Eleanor refused to share him with another woman, as her mother had once innocently shared her father.

    Yet Lord Sallinger looked so unutterably exhausted, his limp more pronounced than ever, darkish blue shadows smudged under those sombre eyes. Something in his face reminded her of the early days when they had first met, his mind still reeling from the horrors of war, nightly plagued by bad dreams, a wounded young man in the throes of despair.

    Her heart wrung, Eleanor noted the softening in her voice with a sense of disbelief. Would she never be able to harden herself sensibly to him?

    ‘Are you staying with friends while in London?’ she asked. ‘Or at your town house? If you’ve been travelling all day, you’ll need to sleep.’

    ‘I’m lodging at a hotel. Our town house is let to Viscount Roth and his family this season.’ He gave a harsh laugh, fingering the stubble darkening his chin. ‘Look rough, do I?’

    ‘Maybe a little tired.’

    ‘Well, I managed a quick wash before coming out and changed my travelling clothes. But I left my man in Warwickshire.’ He looked down into her eyes, almost mocking. ‘Not up to your usual standards, Miss Faversham?’

    Good grief, but he was a charming devil!

    Eleanor felt quite ridiculously disorientated, meeting that dark gaze and scrabbling about for a reply in the idiocy that was her mind. Their encounter at the Folly had been so cruel and acrimonious, such a humiliating defeat that she had barely dared revisit it since her return to London, preferring instead to remember his quiet gallantry as they reached Faversham Hall, the way he had withdrawn into the shadows rather than force her to explain his presence at her side.

    Yet here he was a different man entirely, suave, almost urbane, his smile every inch as devastating as the impact of his hard body on her nerves.

    ‘My lord, you m ... must not ... ’

    Eleanor found herself inexplicably stammering and cursed herself for a moonstruck schoolgirl, barely able to get a straight sentence out in his presence. Did Nathaniel realise how close he was to having her heart? The thought of his triumphant mockery brought her back to her senses.

    ‘What I mean to say is, if you stay on a few more days, I’m sure Charlotte and little Robert would be pleased to accompany you about London. Robert is too young for long excursions but I believe he would like to see Hyde Park. His mamma has promised to purchase a model boat for him, and he has heard that young gentlemen with model boats – ’

    ‘Sail them on the Serpentine.’ He nodded coolly, watching her face. ‘Yes, given my sister’s stubborn refusal to return home, I might as well stay on and keep an eye on her. It is perhaps time that I spent a few weeks in the capital again, if only to visit my tailor and renew a few old acquaintances. Besides which, there is an important matter that I must look into for ... for an old friend ... whilst I am here.’

    She wondered what he meant by that, but a shuttered look on his face indicated that he regretted having mentioned it in the first place, so she decided not to pursue the question. Instead she gave a little curtsey, trying to regain the light, smiling composure with which she held all her potential suitors at bay.

    ‘So London is to welcome the elusive Lord Sallinger back at last. How the ton will talk of your return! Your motives must be questioned in depth, of course, and pored over by every scheming mama and gossiping dowager. Are you come to town in search of a bride, perhaps? Rest assured, over the next few weeks, all London’s delightful debutantes will be paraded in front of you and your titled fortune.’ She saw his heavy frown and realised her mistake. ‘Oh, but never fear, my lord, it won’t be as bad as that. I was only jesting.’

    ‘Your joke is in poor taste, Miss Faversham. For what mama, however scheming, could condemn her daughter to a lifetime of seeing this
wreckage
across the breakfast table?’

    When he turned his head to indicate the terrible scarring on his cheek, Eleanor could have bitten her tongue out with remorse.

    ‘You are too hard on yourself, my lord.’

    ‘I doubt it.’ His lip curled sardonically. ‘Unless you yourself will profess to finding such a profile attractive?’

    There had been such raw pain beneath his question that Eleanor flinched, unsure how to reply without revealing the change in her feelings for him.

    He caught her hesitation, turning away at once, his smile almost barbaric in its savagery.

    ‘I thought as much. Shall we return to the house?’

    Flushed, she caught at his arm. ‘No, not yet.’

    She saw his brooding gaze sweep her face and lowered her head in sudden silence, not daring to meet his eyes but knowing she could not allow this man to consider himself a monster any longer.

   
Courage
, she told herself firmly, though her hand trembled as it dropped from his arm.

    ‘Nathaniel, indeed you are not unattractive. You must not think such things!’

    Half-hidden in the shadow of the great yew-tree, Nathaniel had stilled, looking over his shoulder at her in silence. Now he took a step back towards her, blocking her path and cutting off the light from the flaming garden torches so that she stood in semi-darkness, alone and unseen from the house. Even though Lord Sallinger had rescued her from the loathsome Lovett, Eleanor suddenly felt herself to be in real danger, and shivered, wishing she had never left the noisy but safe confines of the house.

    His eyes glittered, his voice disturbingly cool. ‘Let me have this straight, Nell. You find me attractive?’

    ‘I didn’t say that.’

    ‘You must forgive me, then. For that’s how it sounded.’

    ‘Well, I’m sorry, but you are mistaken. I was not indicating any kind of
preference
. I merely meant that, in general terms, you are not an unattractive man. Which is not at all the same thing as saying that I
personally
find you attractive.’

    ‘I see. An entirely different matter, in fact.’

    ‘Yes,’ she whispered, stepping back to find the yew-tree pressing into her back, an immovable obstacle. ‘Exactly.’

    Having followed her retreat step for step, he placed his hands on either side of her head, resting them on the broad trunk of the yew-tree. His gaze searched her face dispassionately, though there seemed the hint of a smile on those firm lips.

    ‘So, in theory, you would not find your pulse racing if I were to, say,
kiss
you?’

    ‘It might race,’ she managed faintly, ‘but only out of shock. A gentleman does not kiss a lady to whom he is not betrothed. Had you forgotten?’

    ‘Etiquette, always this foolish etiquette!’

    ‘Yet without etiquette, we are no better than the beasts. Besides, there are the usual sanctions to be taken into consideration. The rules of society must be adhered to, on pain of being outcast.’

    He looked down at her mouth, his gaze disconcertingly frank. ‘My social exile has been self-imposed these past ten or so years, my dear, and I have not suffered by it. But I suppose a lady might feel it more than a man. Particularly a young lady like yourself, Miss Faversham. Outcast from society, such a glorious butterfly would soon miss the parties and the dancing ... Ah, and the
flirtations
, would you not?’

    ‘Certainly, I would rather keep to the rules than risk being the focus of malicious gossip.’

    ‘And yet you persist in breaking them,’ he replied softly. ‘First, you rode out alone to see me at the Folly. The height of impropriety! If any of the tongue-wagging dowagers at this party became privy to what happened on that occasion, I fear you would no longer be received anywhere. And then you allowed that young scoundrel Lovett to lead you away from the party tonight, quite ignoring the potential consequences of such an ill-judged action. But perhaps you secretly feel yourself to be above the rules, Nell?’

    ‘Not at all!’

    ‘All evidence to the contrary. For here you are, the “Uncatchable” Miss Faversham, alone with a man yet again.’ He leant forward, demonstrating how trapped she was, his hands on either side of her head, his chest almost touching hers. There was a bitter sarcasm beneath his words that rankled, making her chin come up in defiant denial. ‘What an inappropriate nickname that is. Remind me, how many times have you been ...
caught
?’

    ‘Nathaniel, please let me go.’

    He paid no attention to this plea, and after a few dizzying seconds she realised that he intended to kiss her. His head had lowered to hers, the dark gaze burning her lips, and his tone was seductively soft. ‘Not until you have paid the price for your foolishness, my fair tormentor. I intend to extract three kisses before I let you rejoin your friends. One kiss for stealing my sister away from me, another for coming out here alone with Lovett, and a third for ... well, I don’t know yet, but I’m sure a reason will come to me as we go along.’

    Three kisses. She felt flushed and chilled at the same time, her pulse drumming unpleasantly loud against the backdrop of music floating out across the gardens, her mouth dry with expectation.

    Panic, she thought. I’m panicking. I should slap his face and run away. That is the convention.

    Yet Eleanor found herself unable to move, rooted to the spot as deeply as the yew behind her. She wanted this man’s kiss more than anything else in the world, while fearing it to the same extent, knowing the strange power it possessed to leave her trembling and vulnerable, completely in his power.