that is plain. At the very least, they do not care what happens to you.
‘Come back with us when we return and we will decide on what kind of shop you want, set it up, employ staff, find you a maid. That will all take some time.’
‘And if we never find who is behind all this?’
‘Then your establishment will include a bodyguard,’ Marcus said flatly. ‘For as long as necessary.’
I don’t want a bodyguard, I want you, she thought, folding her hands tightly together to stop herself touching him, clinging to his hand. ‘What will you tell the others? Lady Narborough may not want me here when she knows who I am.’
‘She played with you as a baby, she would not spurn you now,’ the earl said, smiling at her. ‘I will tell her, but not the girls. Just now I told them that someone from the past, when I was working for the government, has returned with a grudge against me. There is no need to rake up more of that old tragedy than we need. It is sufficient to put them on their guard.’
‘I see,’ Nell murmured. ‘Thank you.’ Their voices seemed to come from a long way away. She felt numb, cold, tired and knew that beneath the numbness lay deep sadness, like water rushing beneath thick ice. They got up, leaving her. She was aware of the movement, of the door opening and closing, but she stayed in her chair, watching the leaping flames in the gate.
‘Nell?’
‘Oh!’ She spun round, heart in her mouth. ‘I thought you had all gone.’
‘No.’ Marcus smiled a little and came to lean an elbow on the mantle, looking down at her. At least he isn’t frowning, she thought vaguely, wondering why he was still there. ‘I do not think that telling a lady that you love her in the midst of a blazing row is very…sensible.’
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘It is not. Do you believe me now? Do you trust me?’
‘Yes. I believe you and I trust you. And, Nell, I do love you.’ She had never seen him so serious without that endearing frown. Almost, she could let herself believe him.
‘And whatever you do about that—except ignore it—will cause a scandal,’ she observed dispassionately, fighting the need to throw herself into his arms. ‘You cannot marry me. That would be shocking, especially with two sisters on the Marriage Mart. And if you made me your mistress and anyone found out who I was, then that would be almost as bad. Your loyalty might be called into question—to the Crown and to your father.’
‘Anyone questioning my loyalty will find themselves looking down the barrel of a pistol at dawn.’ His right hand flexed as he said it, and Nell shivered.
‘Wonderful, you will be killed because of me,’ she said.
‘I am an excellent shot,’ he countered. ‘What I aim at, I hit.’
‘Oh well, that is all right then,’ she retorted. ‘Do I stay behind to explain to your family why you have had to flee abroad having killed your man?’
‘Has anyone told you how infuriating you can be?’ Marcus demanded, coming upright in a sudden burst of temper.
‘Yes, you,’ Nell said, trying not to dwell on how magnificent he looked, towering over her, dark eyes blazing. ‘And I am not being infuriating now, merely right. You, on the other hand, are unused to anyone gainsaying you and are not, I have to point out, taking it very well.’
‘Then tell me how you feel, Nell.’ Marcus dropped to one knee with a suddenness that startled her. ‘Tell me how you feel about me. About us.’ He caught her hands in his. In the strong grip, she could feel a pulse thudding. Hers or his, she could not tell.
I love you, I love you…She only had to say it and all her good resolutions would be for nothing. He would not let her go and the outcome—whatever it was—could not be happy. Not for them, not for his family.
‘I desire you,’ she said, making herself meet his eyes. ‘I find, when you touch me, that morals and proper behaviour seem to count as nothing. You kiss me and I go up in flames—and that is wrong and cannot last. And you make me weak.’ She laughed—shakily, it was true—but her amusement brought a flash of answering humour into his eyes.
‘Good,’ Marcus said, his voice husky, leaning in to her.
‘Not weak like that.’ Nell swayed back, away from his wicked, tempting mouth. ‘I am an independent woman. I must stand by myself, not come to lean on a man. You are too big,’ she complained, feeling suddenly tired and querulous. ‘I just want to sit back and let you fight my battles, and that will not do.’
‘Nell, you have agreed to let us help you,’ Marcus began. He was stroking the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. Nell closed her eyes for a moment, imagining his mouth there.
‘And I am very grateful and fully intend it to be a business relationship,’ she said with as much firmness as she could manage. ‘I cannot be a dependent.’
‘I am not asking you to be a dependent, Nell, I am asking you to—’
‘No! No,’ she repeated, more gently. ‘Do not say anything that we will surely regret as soon as it is said. I will stay with your family until I can set up my business, and I am so grateful for that, I cannot properly express it.’
Marcus sat back on his heels and shook his head at her, frowning. ‘And then, every Quarter Day,’ she persisted, ‘I will meet with your man of business and we will discuss profit and loss. I hope to be able to return you a respectable sum for your investment. And when your friends lament the amount their mistresses cost them in millinery and haberdashery, you will tell them of an elegant establishment you know where, if not exactly dagger cheap, one may find a stylish bonnet at a keen price.’
‘And you will be content?’
‘Of course. I will be too busy for foolish daydreams about…passion. And so will you be.’
‘I see.’ Marcus got to his feet. ‘How very practical you are, Nell. You pour a positive bucketful of cold water over heated dreams.’
‘That is how it has to be.’ Nell managed a smile. ‘I cannot afford dreams.’
‘I would give them to you if I could,’ Marcus said, and for a moment the tenderness in his eyes was almost more than she could bear.
‘I know,’ she managed, the smile still intact.
He stooped and she did not try and avoid his mouth, or the gentle touch of his hand as he cradled the back of her head and held her for his kiss. It would be the last time, the last dream.
She would remember every detail, she told herself as his mouth moved over hers with possessive tenderness. The taste of him, the texture of his skin as she laid her palm against his cheek, the scent of him, the leashed power under her other hand where the muscles of his arm clenched with the effort he was making to hold back, the sweep of his eyelashes as she opened her own eyes to look into his face.
And then those thick dark lashes lifted and he broke the kiss.
‘Wise Nell,’ he murmured. And was gone.
Chapter
