steel.
“Is that what she’s doing?” The idea that Faith would try to woo him, sent a pleasant thrill through him despite his decision to be done with her.
MacGruder shrugged. “The master just said the lady had need of Parvus, and I was to see that no harm came to her. He said you would be joining her and would behave like a gentleman. Since Cookie left, there’s been little good food to be had.”
“Cook was a menace in the kitchen. She could kill hogs with the swill she served.” Cringing at the memory of the terrible food from past visits, Nick sat on a low stool near the fire. “What else did my friend say in that letter?”
A shrug. “That the girl, Thea, would cook, and the boy, Jamie, would help out where needed. She’s a fair cook. I sampled the fare yesterday and again at breakfast. I’m happy to not have to cook for myself.”
“Why am I here?” Nick said it mostly to himself, but needed to know.
“The little lady wanted you here, so you’re here. The master must think highly of her to have gone along. Caught a glimpse of her when she arrived with her friends. She’s a pretty little thing. Only brought one small trunk and a few books with her. Sensible that. Why did she need to lure you here, is what I want to know.”
“She didn’t.” Nick ran his hands through his cropped hair.
“You’ll be leaving after the snow blows through then.” There was a knowing lilt to MacGruder’s tone.
Nick stood and walked to the other side of the one-room residence. A bed was half hidden by curtains in one corner and the other had a small stove and sink with one cupboard. He stood by the sink and stared out the small window into the snow. “If I leave, she’ll be here alone until her friends can be contacted and return for her. That could be a week’s time at least.”
“She’s a grown woman. I’m sure she can manage with a handful of servants for a few days. If something happens, we’ll send for the magistrate. He could be here in two days.” MacGruder peered over his shoulder at Nick.
Shaking his head, Nick couldn’t figure out how she had such a hold on him. She’d been rude when he’d first met her, and haughty at times. Then she’d sent her Wallflower friends to spy on him. She always asked questions he wouldn’t answer and she never acted like he was a duke. “I thought all women wanted to marry a duke.”
“But not this one?” MacGruder was far too intuitive.
“I don’t know. It seems she wants to know the man behind the title.” His stomach growled and he regretted turning down tea, which likely would have come with biscuits at least.
“I’m liking her more and more.”
“My life is not for public display.” Nick slammed his hand on the edge of the sink, cutting the palm. Blood seeped from the tiny wound.
MacGruder got up much faster than one would have thought possible. He grabbed a towel from the cupboard and handed it to Nick. “Don’t drip blood on my floor.”
Nick pressed the cut and held tight.
“It seems to me”—MacGruder paused—“you’ll have to trust the woman you intend to marry, or why bother? If you just intend to marry someone to breed sons for you, you’ve picked the wrong lady. Now, that’s just my opinion.”
“Once she finds out the kind of man I really am, she’ll wish she had run from the start.” Wishing he could change the past wouldn’t make it so.
Deep creases marked MacGruder’s frown. “You did what needed doing. No one likes the memory of war, but many of us live with it just the same.”
The old groundskeeper had been a batman in his youth, and served several officers before being wounded and returning home.
“She’d be better off with some simple gentleman, with little to regret besides a bad gambling habit.” Nick wished it wasn’t true, but his past always came back to haunt him.
“Best to let the lady decide if that’s the case. Women have a sense about such things.” MacGruder ambled toward the door and opened it. “You’d better get yourself back to the house before you miss dinner. Maybe clean up some too. You smell like a horse.”
Nick laughed. “Glad you’re still alive, old man.”
Raising a brow, MacGruder said, “I imagine my time will come soon enough. Now you go and be nice to that lady. She’s gone to a lot of trouble to get you here. The least you can do is listen to what she has to say.”
Nick rushed through the snow. Why had she gone to all this trouble? Perhaps he should take MacGruder’s advice and listen. Maybe he could forget his past and be the kind of man a woman like Faith needed.
Chapter 4
It was full dark and the snow still fell steadily. Faith waited in the salon, but hadn’t seen Nick since walking out on him a few hours earlier. She shouldn’t have lost her temper. It had been a perfect opportunity to ask questions, but he was so stubborn.
She sipped a sherry, but she had never cared for the drink. She only took a glass because it was expected. It was the reason she did a lot of things in her daily life, to fit in and be accepted. She took no pleasure in most of them.
Tricking Nicholas into meeting her at Parvus Castle was another matter. She felt wicked and right for her attempt to find out if they suited. Sighing at how backward her thoughts were, she took another sip of sherry.
Since there was the probability that Nicholas would leave as soon as the storm passed, Faith had dressed in her finest gown for dinner. She’d not packed a great many formal clothes, but the shimmering gold silk gown matched her eyes and showed her figure to its best advantage. She’d forgone any lace around the low neckline in favor of letting her breasts push up in what she hoped was an enticing way.
Of course, she’d been sitting with her back straight and her chin arched up toward the fire for fifteen minutes, waiting. The pose had her back and neck aching, and Nicholas had not shown himself.
Putting down the crystal glass, she pressed her hands into the deep red cushion of the settee and arched until the pain in her lower back lessened. Closing her eyes with the pleasure of releasing stiff muscles, she sighed.
A low moan from the doorway startled her eyes open.
In a black suit with a crisp white shirt and cravat, Nicholas stood just inside the room, his expression so calm and indifferent that Faith must have imagined the sound of a moment before.
She stood and curtsied. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
“Lady Faith.” He bowed. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Not long,” she said.
A white bandage wrapped his hand. “Have you injured yourself?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Small penance for my bad temper. It’s little more than a scratch.”
Curious, but respectful of his obvious desire to downplay
