His stomach had clenched with an unpleasant sensation that couldn’t be called anything other than what it was: jealousy. It had been some time since he’d experienced the emotion, and he wasn’t happy that it was snaking through him now. And he especially didn’t like that it was his brother inspiring these envious feelings. While he couldn’t deny that he and Colin had occasionally competed while growing up, as brothers were wont to do, they’d rarely done so over anything other than racing their horses or a backgammon board, as their interests were so different. They’d never competed over a woman, as their tastes differed greatly in that area as well. Colin had always preferred aristocratic women, while Nathan’s tastes ran more toward women who didn’t put on Society’s airs. He was attracted to women whose interests reached beyond fashion, gossip, and the weather. In truth, he’d always preferred to spend an evening conversing with a homely bluestocking than engaging in small talk with the most beautiful woman in the room.

Until now, it seemed.

Victoria, with her lofty position in Society and all that entailed, her expensive clothing, her beauty, her numerous suitors who undoubtedly hung on her every word, epitomized the exact opposite of the sort of woman he preferred. Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t squelch the remembrance of kissing her. Touching her. Couldn’t control the deep ache of want and lust she inspired.

The torture hadn’t lessened at all during dinner-in fact it worsened with the addition of Gordon, who was also clearly besotted with Victoria. And she seemed extremely flattered by his regard. While she basked in the glow of the attention both Colin and Gordon showered upon her, Nathan’s father and Lady Delia kept up a lively discussion between themselves, leaving Nathan with a great deal of time to observe everyone and eat a meal that he supposed was delicious but tasted like sawdust.

And naturally the torture had continued when, after the interminable meal, the group retired to the drawing room for games. Nathan had been sorely tempted to fabricate an excuse to depart, but after Victoria, her aunt, Colin, and Gordon decided to play whist, Nathan’s father had invited him to share a brandy and a turn at the chessboard. Given the tension between him and his father, the invitation had both surprised and pleased him, and he’d accepted. While he was in no mood for chess, the brandy had sounded extremely welcome, as did the opportunity to perhaps ease the awkwardness between them.

Yet now, working his way through his second brandy, and though he stared at the chessboard, all his attention remained focused on the laughing group across the room. Giving up all hope of concentrating on the game, he moved his rook.

Based on his father’s raised brows, he judged he’d made an unwise move, which was proven seconds later when his father said, “You seem to have lost your skill for this game, Nathan.”

“Er, not at all. I’m setting an elaborate trap from which you will not escape.”

Doubt was written all over his father’s face. Another burst of laughter came from across the room, and Nathan’s gaze involuntarily shifted to the merry whist players. After he pulled his vision back to his own disastrous game in progress, he noticed that his father’s attention remained fixed across the room with a speculative expression.

“Remarkable woman,” his father said softly.

Nathan stilled, then barely controlled the urge to look heavenward. It appeared Victoria had made yet another conquest. How bloody delightful. “Remarkable?” he repeated with feigned indifference. “I find her rather… tiresome.” He again resisted the urge to look heavenward, this time to see if a lightning bolt would smite him for uttering such an outrageous lie.

His father’s surprised gaze flicked toward him then resettled again across the room. “I wasn’t aware you’d spent enough time in her company to form such an opinion.”

As far as his peace of mind was concerned, he’d spent far too much time in her company, and before her visit to Cornwall was over, he’d be forced to spend much more time with her. And damn it, he couldn’t wait.

“One need not spend days or weeks with a person to form an opinion, Father. First impressions tend to be fairly accurate.” A frown pulled down Nathan’s brow as he realized that his first impression of Victoria had been that she was utterly… charming. Too innocent for him, too aristocratic, but charming nonetheless.

“I completely agree,” Father said, nodding.

Nathan pulled himself from his brown study. “You agree? With what?”

“What you just said. That it isn’t necessary to know someone very long to realize they are… special.”

“I said that?” Good God, he needed to stop drinking brandy. Immediately.

“Perhaps not in those precise words, but that was the idea, yes.”

“You might not need to spend much time, but certainly at least a private conversation is necessary, Father.”

“Again, I agree. We had a delightful chat this morning in the garden, then again this afternoon over tea. Can’t recall the last time I was so delightfully entertained.”

Nathan’s brows puckered further. “I thought you spent this morning with Lady Delia in the garden.”

“And so I did. As I said, a remarkable woman.”

Nathan blinked. “You think Lady Delia is remarkable?”

His father looked at him strangely. “Yes. What on earth did you think I was saying? Has your hearing become afflicted along with your chess playing ability?”

No, but clearly his mental capabilities were not all they should be. “I thought you were referring to Lady Victoria,” he muttered.

Father stared at him hard for several seconds. “I see. A man would have to be blind not to notice that Lady Victoria is comely.”

“I never said she wasn’t.”

“No. You said she was tiresome. Chit doesn’t strike me as such. Clearly, neither your brother nor Alwyck find her objectionable, either.” He studied Nathan over the rim of his crystal snifter. “Not the sort of woman you used to be attracted to.”

Damn it all, when had he turned into a book his father could read so accurately? “I wasn’t aware that ‘tiresome’ was synonymous with ‘attracted to,’ ” Nathan said, keeping his tone light.

“Normally it’s not. However, sometimes…” Father’s voice drifted off, then he added, “A woman of her rank is a much better match for Colin. Or Alwyck.”

The bitterness he’d spent years holding at bay twisted Nathan’s lips. “As opposed to an untitled second son who is a lowly country physician with a dubious reputation. I wholeheartedly agree.”

His father’s gaze hardened. “I harbor no objections to your choice of profession. Indeed, being a physician is respectable for a man in your position and far preferable to having you risk your life and your brother’s life as a spy. But I neither approve of nor understand the decisions you’ve made regarding where and how you live and the way you left Cornwall.”

Nathan hiked up one brow. “Little Longstone is a quiet, charming place-”

“Where people pay you with farm animals and you live in a shack.”

“Cottage. It’s a cottage. And not everyone pays me in farm animals. And if you recall, I left here because you ordered me to go.”

A tension-filled silence followed his tersely spoken words. A muscle ticked in his father’s jaw, then he replied in a low voice. “Let’s be honest, Nathan. Angry words were said on both our parts. Yes, I told you to go, but we both know you’re the sort of man who wouldn’t do something you didn’t want to.”

“I’m also not the sort of man to stay where I’m not welcome.”

“Face the truth. You wanted to go. To escape the untenable situation your actions caused. I may have told you to leave Creston Manor, but it was your decision to run away.”

An uncomfortable flush heated Nathan’s face. “I’ve never run away from anything in my entire life.”

“I know. That is why I found it, and continue to find it, so confounding that you did so in this instance. Your situation was difficult, yet instead of fighting for what you wanted, you left.”

“I left to find what I wanted. What I needed. A peaceful place. Where no one whispered behind my back or stared at me with doubt and suspicion.”

Another burst of laughter drew Nathan’s attention across the room. Victoria was smiling at Gordon in a way that set Nathan’s teeth on edge. Pulling his attention back to his father, he found himself on the receiving end of a troubled stare.

“If you believe a woman such as Lady Victoria will settle for the rustic way you live when she could be a countess and have all this,” Father waved his hand to encompass the entire room, “then I fear you are destined for disappointment.”

“As I agree that not only am I an unsuitable choice for a lady like her, but that a pampered Society diamond such as Lady Victoria would be a disastrous choice for me, I do not fear suffering any disappointment. And now that that’s settled, shall we resume our game?”

“Of course.” Father reached out and moved his bishop. “Checkmate.”

Nathan stared at the board and realized that he had indeed been vanquished. He looked across the room and his gaze collided with Victoria’s, who was watching him over the fan of her cards. He felt the impact of her regard as if he’d been sucker punched, and he greatly feared he’d been vanquished in more ways than one.

Twelve

Today’s Modern Woman must realize the importance of fashion in her quest for intimate fulfillment. There are times to wear a fancy ball gown, times to wear a negligee, and times to wear nothing at all…


A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore


Victoria left her bedchamber early the next morning with a determined step and a plan firmly in mind: locate Nathan and make certain he did not escape as he had from the library yesterday afternoon and from Lord Alwyck’s drawing room last evening. She’d not had the opportunity to have a private word with him since he left the library with the notes and map yesterday, a vexing situation to be sure. Her heart had leapt and her stomach trembled when she’d seen him standing in the foyer last evening before the group departed for Alywck Hall. And certainly not because he looked so dashing and rakishly handsome in his formal evening wear, or because of the heated, compelling look in his eyes. No, it was because she’d finally have a moment alone with him to find out what he’d been up to all afternoon. Yes, that was why.

But then Lord Sutton had appeared, followed quickly by her aunt and Nathan’s father. There’d been no opportunity during the crowded carriage ride nor through dinner and then games in the drawing room, all while she pretended an enthusiasm for the attention both Lord Alywck and Lord Sutton showered upon her when what she actually felt like doing was pulling Nathan into a secluded alcove and kissing him. Er, questioning him.

He’d departed Lord Alwyck’s home before the rest of the group, claiming the onset of the headache and stating that he wished to walk home, as fresh air usually helped relieve the condition. Sympathy eased through her, as he had indeed appeared out of sorts, and she’d wondered if his conversation with his father had been the cause. But then sympathy had turned to suspicion. Perhaps the entire headache claim had been a ruse and he’d spent the night out searching for the jewels. He might well be out this minute doing that very thing. Without her. The wretched man. She all but stomped down the corridor and entered the dining room. Then halted.

Or, he might well be in the dining room eating eggs and reading the London Times.

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and quirked a brow. “Ah, it is you, Victoria. With all that stomping about, I thought perhaps we’d been invaded by marching soldiers.”

Oh, how droll. How humorous. And how irritating that she wouldn’t think of a cutting set-down until sometime next week. And ‘twas even more irritating that he looked so divine. Dressed in a snowy white shirt adorned with an obviously hastily knotted cravat, a cream waistcoat, and a Devonshire brown jacket that bore several wrinkles, he should not have looked so… perfect. Especially since his dark hair looked as if he’d combed it with nothing more than impatient fingers. Hmmm… what color breeches was he wearing? She found herself rising onto her toes in an effort to answer that question, but the mahogany table thwarted her view. Fawn, most likely, she decided, envisioning his muscular legs encased in light brown. Forcing the image from her mind, she touched her heels back onto the parquet floor.