A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement) (6 page)

"I promise." He departed with a slight bow. Nick then headed straight for the terrace, hoping this abominable night wasn't going to end with him being taken away in shackles for assaulting a peer of the realm.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Love is not in our choice but in our fate."-
John Dryden

NICK FOUND HER on one of the private terraces overlooking the gardens. Alone.
Thank God.
Dressed in her ivory gown and drenched in soft moonlight, she resembled nothing so much as an ethereal being leaning wistfully over the balustrade.

"Lady Mariah?" he called out softly.

She turned to face him with a look of surprise. "Mr. Needham?"

"I thought to find you with Rochford."

"Then you were mistaken."

"Mistaken?" He frowned. "I don't believe I mistook his interest in you."

She released a bitter laugh. "His interest is in my estate, perhaps. In my dowry, most certainly. But in
me
? I assure you not, Mr. Needham."

"Then he is a fool."

"No. We are simply from different worlds. That one is his," she inclined her head to the door, "and this one is mine."

"Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"To be honest, I feel completely out of my element without Lydia. All too much like a sheep in a cow pasture."

"You don't look like a sheep," he said. "A sprite perhaps, but never a sheep."

"A sprite?" She laughed. "You told me you weren't given to false flattery, Mr. Needham."

His grin instantly faded. "There's nothing false in my words, Mariah." Her name slipped all too easily over his tongue. "You have no idea how lovely you are tonight."

Unable to help himself, he reached out to stroke the curls that lay over her pale shoulder. His gaze followed the cascade of golden-brown locks to where the ends rested just above her milky-white breasts. "In the morning sunshine, I thought you resembled a wood nymph, but by moonlight, you are nothing short of angelic. You should always be out of doors, Mariah."

"It's where I prefer to be," she said. "It's where I feel most alive—walking, riding, tending the garden. I've always despised being stuck inside, but now that's where I spend most of my waking hours. My only escape is at night when I sit on my own terrace or walk in the gardens."

"Alone?" he asked, his gaze searching hers. Was he mistaken about her? Did she perhaps have a secret lover?

"Yes," she whispered softly. "Very much . . . alone."

She suddenly looked so forlorn, making him ache for what he couldn't have. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms.

"It would not be so if you were you to marry . . ." The words were out before he could take them back.

"To whom? Someone like Lord Rochford?" she asked, searching his eyes.

"A woman in your position may have her pick of nearly any eligible bachelor in the realm."

She released a derisive laugh. "And I would still be very much alone. I don't seek that kind of marriage, Mr. Needham. 'Tis too beautiful a night to speak of such unpleasant things as marriage." She tilted her face up toward the heavens, exposing the full column of her beautiful neck. "Do you ever stargaze? Or is such an activity too frivolous for a man of your serious temperament?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I have always loved astronomy."

"I have never learned to identify the constellations, but the myths fascinate me. When you look up there tonight, what do you see?"

"The moon is too bright to see much," he said. "The best time to view stars is during the new moon."

"Can you find Cassiopeia for me?"

"She doesn't emerge in the heavens until autumn, but Ursa Major is best viewed in spring. It's also the easiest to recognize. Do you know the myth?"

"It is the story of Callisto, is it not?"

"Yes. Zeus was smitten by her, and Hera, his jealous wife, transformed Callisto into a bear. While she was in animal form, her son Arcas was going to shoot her, but Zeus intervened and turned Arcas into a bear as well. He then placed mother and son permanently in the heavens."

"It seems so unfair that Callisto was punished merely for attracting the attention of Zeus, but then again, maybe she's happier lighting up the nighttime sky than worrying about unwanted propositions from powerful men."

"Unwanted propositions?" Her words rang a peal in his ears. "Did Rochford importune you?"

"No. He did not, but he hinted at a proposal of marriage."

"When?"

"Earlier this evening."

"How did you answer him?"

"I didn't. Please, Mr. Needham. I don't wish to talk about it. Why were you looking for me? Did you receive any news from Lord Marcus?"

"Yes. He anticipates he and Miss Trent will arrive late tonight."

"What has detained him for so long?"

"He didn't elaborate. He only said it was a matter of urgency." She shivered. "You are cold." He immediately stripped off his coat and laid it over her shoulders.

Her eyes met his. "Thank you, Mr. Needham."

"Nicolas," he said. "Or Nick would be even better."

"Nick," she repeated with a soft smile. "I like the sound of it. It suits you."

"And why is that?"

"It's a no-nonsense kind of name, isn't it? You don't seem to care for their disingenuous ways any more than I do. Indeed, you are the only one here with whom I am at ease. It's hard to believe we met only a few short days ago. I feel as if I have known you so very much longer."

"Perhaps it's just the wine?" he suggested.

"No," she murmured, leaning toward him, close enough for him to catch a teasing hint of lilacs. She licked her lips. The gesture drew his gaze to her luscious rose-colored mouth. He couldn't help wondering if her lips were as sweet and petal soft as they looked. "It has nothing to do with the wine and everything to do with the man."

Her tone and demeanor were warm and inviting, and innocently seductive. He was surely courting danger to be alone with her any longer. "We should go back inside and join them at cards," he said.

"Must we?" she asked, soft and pleading.

"Yes, we must," he replied resolutely. He'd come looking for her to protect her from Rochford, but who would protect her from him? "If you don't wish to join them at cards, you could always make an excuse to retire early to your chamber."

"But I won't be able to sleep. I'm far too restless. What about you? Do you intend to wait for Lord Marcus and Lydia?"

"Yes."

"Then I will wait with you," she said. "That is . . . if you would care for some company."

"No," he said. "It wouldn't be appropriate for us to be together. Indeed, if we stay out here much longer, we will surely become an object of speculation."

"Would that be so terrible?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" He was half afraid of her answer.

"If my reputation were tarnished, perhaps I would not then be troubled by any more unwanted suitors."

"You are quite mistaken in me if you think I would do such a thing," he replied tersely.

She had no idea the torture she was putting him through. What she'd just implied, that she was willing to be compromised, was pushing him perilously close to the breaking point. He was an honorable man, but a man nevertheless—made of flesh and blood.

"I'm sorry." She bit her lip. "It was a foolish thing to say. But I am no one. Why would anyone bother themselves with me?"

"You don't understand how it is," he said. "This world is full of malicious people, Mariah. To those who live meaningless lives, spreading gossip and fomenting scandal is the ultimate in entertainment."

"I have nothing in common with such people," she said. "I hate falseness and malice. I'm very sorry I came here."

"Are you?" he asked softly. "I'm not. If you hadn't come, I never would have had the delight of getting to know you, and that would have been a tragedy for me."

"But what does it matter? It's unlikely that we'll ever see each other again after tomorrow."

His gaze narrowed. "After tomorrow?"

"Yes. In the morning, I intend to pack my belongings. I'm returning to Morehaven."

"You're
leaving
?"

"Yes. I am needed at home."

“But you can't leave so soon," he protested. "I promised to teach you about cricket. I could never break my word to a lady. I have my reputation to protect."

His effort at levity only seemed to annoy her. “Your reputation?" She gave a snort of indignation. "Is that all that matters to you,
Mr. Needham
? What others think?"

"Not at all," he replied. "In truth, most of them can go to the devil for all I care."

"Then why are you afraid to be alone with me?" she asked softly.

"I'm only trying to protect you from those who live to destroy others," he answered.

His chest squeezed as her gaze grew misty. "I don't belong here. Don't you understand? Can you even imagine how it feels to be sought out only because you have  property and a fortune? How will I ever know if someone actually cares for
me
?"

Nick stifled a groan. The anguish in her beautiful blue-green eyes unraveled his last threads of self-restraint. He drew her into his arms, knowing he was making a mistake, maybe the biggest of his life, but the kiss was his fate. It was as inevitable as the rising sun and as unstoppable as the ocean tide.

"How will you know?" He moved in slowly, deliberately, until their faces were mere inches apart, until the sweet sough of her breath caressed his face. He couldn't hold himself back now if his next breath depended on it. "
This
is how."

Cupping her face with both hands, he finally claimed the soft, sweet lips that had tormented him since he'd seen her in Lady Russell's garden.  Her kiss was the tenderest torture. Although unschooled, her lips were indescribably sweet. He wanted to lose himself in the drugging pleasure of them forever. He resisted the urge to probe with his tongue, knowing if he took this any further, he'd never be able to pull away, and he had to. He couldn't let it go on. One long and lingering kiss was all he would allow himself . . . because anything more could never be enough.

***

As Nick's warm hands held her face, Mariah shut her eyes, wishing for the kiss with all of her being. His musk-and-bergamot scent wafted over her, teasing her senses just before his lips brushed over hers. It was her first kiss, and he was the only man she'd ever dreamt of kissing. Soft and warm, delicious and divine, his mouth moved over hers, sending rapturous ripples racing through her body. Was there ever anything more wonderful than his kiss? Their mingling breaths made her light-headed and giddy, and she wanted it to go on and on forever, but just as she thought he would deepen the kiss, he slowly disengaged and withdrew. She opened her eyes to find him staring back with a dazed look.

"Lady Mariah," he began helplessly, "I am so sorry. I never should have—"

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because it's dishonorable when I can't offer you marriage."

"But I told you I don't wish to talk of marriage. I don't wish to talk at all. I only want you to kiss me again. Please, Nick," she pleaded softly. "Will you kiss me again?"

He shook his head and mumbled, "I'm sorry." Turning abruptly away, he strode toward the terrace door.

Her stomach knotted at the realization that she'd just thrown herself at a man who'd only kissed her out of pity. How could she have been so stupid to think he might care for her? Her throat and eyes burned. This entire night was just too much to bear. She tried to hold back the tears, but suddenly it was impossible to keep them at bay. Stifling a sob, she gathered up her skirts and fled down the stairs and into the gardens.

***

His chest heaving, Nick stood with his back to the terrace door. He'd done the right thing, the honorable thing. Yet he'd never felt like a bigger cad in his entire life. He'd left her alone on the terrace with kiss-swollen lips and rejection in her eyes. He stationed himself at the door, determined to watch over her from a safe distance until she came back in, but the seconds drew into minutes. His concern for her grew as the minutes lengthened to a quarter hour. Why had she not come in? Should he go back and escort her inside?

He was deliberating just that when Lady Russell approached with a look of censure. "My dear Needham, where is your coat?"

His coat? He looked down to find himself in shirtsleeves and waistcoat. He hadn't even realized he'd forgotten it. "I gave it to Lady Mariah," he said.

"To Lady Mariah? Why on earth would she need a gentleman's coat?"

"She desired some air and had no shawl."

The furrow between her brows deepened. "You let her go into the night
unescorted
?"

"She is only on the terrace, my lady. I thought it best, for propriety's sake, to wait for her here."