Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2) - Maggi Andersen (philippa perry book .txt) 📗

this? He was a man who could be tender, and he cared deeply for both people and animals. She had witnessed it often enough. It was partly why she loved him. But he would never tell her what made him so reluctant to enjoy life to the full. She doubted he’d revealed the reason to anyone. No, she thought, he would have told her father. She remembered something Papa had said before he died. If you find a man as good as Nicholas, I shall be happy in heaven.

“You’re a good man, Nicholas.”

He gently removed her hands and stepped back. “I’m a man, whether I’m good remains to be seen.”

Nicholas paused on the path and contemplated her. Might he understand her at last? Did he like what he saw? Or disapprove of her and believe he was right all along: that she was a foolish young woman in need of a man’s guidance. She frowned. Surely a woman could do as she wished without suffering a man’s disapproval?

She would hate for him to think her foolish. Nicholas was such a stickler for correct behavior. It was that which drew her on to goad him. And she had gone so far there was no turning back now. Tonight would bring the matter to a head, and she would know. “Everything has become clear to me,” she said, although it hadn’t, really. But she’d drawn a response from him.

“Everything?” He asked as he strode toward her.

He looked so purposeful; Carrie gasped.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Moon madness, that was what this was. Nicholas had heard of it but never quite believed it until now. And he suffered an acute case. He had to hang on before all the reasonable, coherent thoughts which drove him to this point were in danger of melting away like quicksilver or fairy dust.

Jealousy curdled inside him at the thought of some man touching Carrie as she was now, almost naked, with her glorious hair curling over her shoulders. Through the fine lawn of her nightgown, the moonlight revealed the lush swell of her breasts and the rounded curve of her bottom.

He stripped off his banyan and held it out to her. “Put this on, please.”

She gazed at him defiantly. Then snatched it from him and struggled into it. He came to roll up the sleeves.

“I wish to stay here,” she said, waving her arm as if to encompass the fairies she was sure were peaking from the flowery shrubs.

Before she could step away, Nicholas grabbed hold of her, hefting her up in his arms. He started toward the house.

She rested her head against his chest. “I can hear your heart. It beats in rhythm with mine.”

“Does it?”

“Your voice rumbles delightfully. If you are taking me back to my bedchamber, I am quite able to walk, thank you.”

“You promise to go to bed?”

“Nicholas.” Carrie leaned against him, her face raised, her beautiful brown eyes searching his. “You have a very nice name. Did you know that?”

“I’m glad you like it.” He continued across the grass, aware of her fragrant body, warm against his.

“Put me down. I am quite sober now. Thanks to you.”

He set her back on her feet, and when she stumbled, he grabbed hold of her hand. “Let’s hope everyone is still asleep.”

  He led Carrie across the floor and up the stairs.

Carrie tossed her auburn locks back over her shoulders and gazed up at him. “I have yet to see your bedchamber, Nicholas, please show it to me.”

“Ah, Carrie,” he murmured. “I am only human.”

“The lady you ate supper with at the ball was beautiful. Are you in love with her?” Her voice echoed down the hallway.

Nicholas hushed her. Fortunately, the staff had retired for the evening; still, they remained in danger of being overheard. “We can’t talk here.”

“I’d like to know. She might become your wife. Does she like children?”

Nicholas groaned. Hefting her up again because her voice carried as she dawdled along, he carried her swiftly to his bedchamber, which was a few steps away, and shut the door.

He wasn’t sure what he would do or say, but suspected he’d lost his mind. Still unsure of his actions, he locked the door, although he’d told his valet to retire for the evening.

Nicholas turned to gaze at her, delighting in the sight of her, here in his bedchamber. An enchanted night on which he could almost visualize the fairies nodding their approval. Madness. But divine madness all the same. He folded his arms and remained at the door, watching Carrie as she wandered around the room.

***

“Oh. So this is your bedchamber, Nicholas.” Carrie felt his gaze on her. “It’s quite pleasant. For a gentleman.” Two silver candelabra on the bureau cast light and shadow over heavy mahogany furniture, somber green bed furnishings with gold tassels, and walls papered in a design of dark green and gold. They were of the finest quality, but somber. A wife would certainly redecorate it, but then, he might seldom use it…

Carrie flushed at her bold thoughts and climbed the steps to perch on the enormous bed, taking hold of one of the intricately carved oak posts. He remained where he was, silently contemplating her.

Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. Nicholas looked at her in a way she’d never encountered. Men had flirted and flattered her, but this was raw desire as a man looks at a woman he wants. Her breath shortened, and her stomach clenched low down. She wanted him so much. Her body demanded something she wasn’t sure of. Did he love her? Really love her? She must know. “Why don’t you come over here?”

“When you agree to go to bed, I shall escort you there.” From a chair, he picked up his midnight blue dressing gown embellished with golden dragons and gold