To Love a Wicked Lord Page 5

  Then she smiled. “Imagine, she complains that all the streets in Bath are uphill! She says it’s actually changed the people who live here and that’s why the sedan chair porters who carry the chair in back are shorter than the ones in front. Their legs have become shorter because of their jobs, she says. So it seems, though I can’t believe it’s true. And I won’t even tell you the naughty things she says about the visitors here.”

  Lord Montrose’s expression seemed caught between amusement and annoyance. Amusement won out. “All the streets uphill? It does seem that way. But I promise you that what goes up does come down, eventually. And the porters are usually the same size, limbs and all. It’s an optical illusion. A porter who carries a sedan chair in the back and goes uphill has to crouch for leverage. That makes the fellow in front seem longer-legged. Still, if you watch them going downhill, you’ll see they reverse positions…” He paused. “Or at least, I thought they did. You may be on to something there, Miss Carstairs.”

  He smiled at Pippa, and she couldn’t help grinning back at him. The moment passed quickly.

  “That said,” he added more seriously, “the truth is that there’s no need for you ladies to accompany me to Brighton.”

  “Of course there is!” Pippa snapped. “I’m the one who knows what Noel looks like, and if he’s there I’m the one who needs to speak with him. Nothing’s changed that.”

  “True,” he agreed. “But it’s a long journey. Surely you and your grandmother would be happier ensconced here. I’ll return with news soon as I have some.”

  “Oh my, no,” Pippa’s grandmother commented merrily. “I long to see Brighton again, my lord. I’m sure many of my old friends are there. They’re certainly not here. And to see our prince again! I hadn’t hoped for such felicity. I knew him when he was young; such a handsome lad, hair of gold and the bluest eyes. We all called him Florizel—a prince from out of fairy tales, and so charming, always. I know age has changed him; it was doing so even then. I yearn to see him again. We must go with you.”

  Pippa hid a smirk. She knew Montrose would rather be accompanied by a troop of bagpipers. But she also knew he respected her grandfather, and so might allow them to go with him. Pippa prayed that would happen. She’d just stuck her toes out the door and discovered that she wanted to take longer steps. The world was fascinating.

  “But it’s a long journey,” he protested. “A long way from here. Down into Sussex, and toward the sea.”

  “It always was,” Lady Carstairs said blithely. “We never let a little road or two get in the way of our pleasures, not in my day. How else to see the world? I can sleep in the carriage if I get weary. My dear husband would be shocked if I let a mere matter of miles cancel a journey I wanted to take. Time enough to rest when I’m dead.”

  Lord Montrose looked hunted.

  Pippa knew her grandmother could be immoveable on some issues. They were usually household matters. Now, after seeming content to stay in one place for decades, it appeared that she was feeling the same sense of newfound freedom her granddaughter was experiencing. The farther they went, the more moveable her grandmother wanted to be. Pippa hoped her grandmother was healthy enough and, prayed, was in her right mind, because she so wanted to leave this place and solve Noel’s mysterious disappearance. But Pippa had little part in this decision. She sat back, waiting to hear what Montrose would say.

  “But your age, dear lady,” he began.

  Pippa shook her head. He wasn’t as clever as he appeared. He’d said the worst thing for his cause.

  Her grandmother seized on it. “I am as old as I am, and not one day more. I do hope you don’t find me ancient!” she added coyly.

  He put a hand on his heart. “You know I don’t. I only had a care for your well-being, and my own. Your husband would slay me if you returned to him in any way less vibrant and lovely as you were when you set out.”

  It did the trick. Lady Carstairs beamed at him. “No need to worry. My goodness! I’m not confined to my bed or my chair. I know my dear husband would approve. He sent me away and bade me return with an answer. How poor spirited I would be if I went home because I was afraid to go on. This is England, not some barbarian land. I will be quite safe. Safer to be sure, with you, dear sir,” she said with a flirtatious smile that made Lord Montrose blink and her granddaughter worry.

  “But if you don’t care to accompany us, my lord,” Lady Carstairs added with sudden dignity, “I’d appreciate it if you would recommend someone who would.”

  He sighed. He spread his hands out in front of him. “I’d never do that. I trust only myself with your care. Then so be it. We’ll go on together, if you are certain.”

  “Certain?” Lady Carstairs asked in puzzlement. “I am always certain.”

  Montrose nodded. “As I see. Very well. Now, shall we dine?”

  The dinner was delicious, but no one dining seemed to notice. Each was wrapped in a cocoon of silence, so thoughtful that they didn’t notice that no one else was speaking. They ate absently. Every so often one of them opened their mouth to say something, and then closed it again over a bite of food. The waiter serving them cast a significant look at the serving wench, and they both shrugged. The quality was strange, that was something sure.

  When all the dishes had been cleared and the servers gone, the company in the private dining room looked at each other again. Pippa’s eyes widened. Her grandmother looked exhausted, gray and fatigued, as though she’d walked a mile not just consumed a meal.

  Pippa leapt to her feet. “Grandmamma!” she cried. “Come, it’s time for bed. You can lean on my arm.”

  Lord Montrose strode to the older lady’s other side.

  Her grandmother shook off Pippa’s hand. “Nonsense,” she said. “It’s not yet midnight. I just need a bit of rest. That chair near the fireside looks comfortable,” she said as she rose to her feet. She made it to the chair with Montrose’s assistance. “Ah,” she said, settling back into it. “Just what I need, a chance to rest my eyes. Go on talking, my dears. Make plans. I’ll be ready to leave tomorrow at first light.”

  “After breakfast, surely,” Montrose said.

  “Very well, then,” she agreed, and closed her eyes.

  Both Pippa and Montrose stood, looking down at her.

  “I am not deceased,” Lady Carstairs said irritably, though she kept her eyes closed. “Go away. I’ll be right as rain in a few minutes.”

  Pippa and the marquis took chairs nearby, sat, and stared at each other.

  “Ill advised,” Montrose said in a low voice.

  Pippa nodded. “True. But it will be worse if we refuse her.”

  There were a few moments of silence broken only by Lady Carstairs’s increasingly deep breathing, the pop and hiss of it, and of the firewood in the hearth.

  “The truth is, and I’m not happy to be saying it,” Montrose finally said, watching Pippa, “but I must. Although we go to Brighton, you must realize that your Noel may already be in an unmarked grave anywhere along the road anywhere in England.”

  Pippa swallowed hard and nodded. “I know, but I don’t think so. He’s an experienced traveler. He’s been to France, Italy, and so many other places abroad, he knows enough to travel inconspicuously.”

  Montrose’s dark eyes glittered in the lamplight. “Indeed? Why so much travel, do you know?”

  “Because he was a spy,” Pippa said in annoyance. “No, of course not,” she said as Montrose’s eye’s widened. “A jest. He wasn’t, I’d vow it, and so would Grandfather. Noel was—is—just a man filled with curiosity. He even said that the only bad thing about marrying was that he’d have to stop traipsing round the planet. I said he wouldn’t have to because I wanted to see the world too, and couldn’t he please take me somewhere someday? He readily agreed. We laughed, and so that was that.”

  “Would your grandfather have known if he were a spy? He’s been living in isolation for years.”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Pippa said wearily. “Ever
yone from cabinet ministers to royalty to local fishermen come to him for advice all the time. I daresay he knows more about everyone in England than anyone in England. In fact,” she added pointedly, “I wouldn’t have landed myself and my grandmother on you unless he had specifically asked me to. He said you’d find Noel or no one could. That was high praise coming from Grandfather. Are you a spy?” she asked curiously.

  “Absolutely,” Montrose answered in bored tones.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Pippa said. “In fact, it might even help you find him. I must. It just makes no sense for Noel to have left me. I’m not saying that I’m so utterly desirable. I am saying that he has manners. I believe he’s alive and something is preventing him from reaching me. Lord Montrose,” she said suddenly, urgently, “I can’t go on as I’ve done. I’m neither widow nor jilted fiancée. I’m no one, living nowhere. I can’t socialize. If I did, I’d look cruel and uncaring, but I can’t continue to live in an empty jar the way I do now.”

  “You want to marry,” Montrose said flatly.

  “I want to live a normal life,” she retorted. “You may remain unattached and you do so. I can’t. I love my grandparents and owe so much to them, but I can’t live with them forever. I want a life of my own.” She looked over to see if her raised voice had woken her grandmother. The lady slept on. Pippa sighed. “Do you think she can bear the journey?”

  “I was going to ask you that,” he said.

  “She’s sturdy, and determined. As for the rest? I’m not sure I know her anymore,” Pippa admitted. “But then, I’ve been too involved with my own troubles lately to notice little things about her behavior as I do now. Still, if she wants to go, and I refused to go with her, there would be nothing I could do about it short of writing to Grandfather and asking him to stop her. I don’t think he would. He made a decision. He expects it to be carried out.”

  Montrose sat back and stared at Pippa. “The saffron and rose colors of your gown suit your eyes and hair perfectly,” he said. “You’re fair as an elfin child, but very much a woman. Your figure is magnificent, not too voluptuous, but neither are you too fragile-looking. You are very lovely, you know.”

  She couldn’t have been more surprised if the chair she sat in had suddenly started complimenting her. She’d noted his attractiveness from the moment she’d clapped eyes on him. But she’d thought he was far more interested in Fashion than any female.

  “Of course, you must know,” he went on in soft, musing tones. “Beautiful women always do. That presents a problem for me. You came down tonight and looked so alluring you staggered me, and knew it. Your cheeks are flushed now by my praise, and when you begin to take such deep angry breaths as you’re doing, your breasts rise magnificently.”

  She was as flattered as confused, and sat listening to him, entranced.

  “It makes me wonder,” he went on. “Do you think your grandfather wants you to attach yourself to me if we discover that Noel met with bad fortune or cold feet?”

  She blinked and then glared at him. “No!” she spat. “No and no! Grandfather is clear in all his dealings. There’s no secret purpose on his part, or mine.”

  “You don’t find me attractive?” he asked in piteous tones, as though she hadn’t spoken.

  She was momentarily silenced. He was jesting, and then she was certain he was not. She lifted her head. “You are, as you must know, my lord, a very attractive fellow. But I prefer gentlemen with a bit more man and a bit less gentle in their natures. In short,” she said defiantly, “I don’t know whether you’re pretending to be a popinjay or really are one, but whichever you are, it matters little to me. I have no designs on you, my lord. Let it go at that. Or,” she asked shrewdly, leaning forward, “are you trying to alienate me so that I leave in a huff and find someone else to take me to Noel?”

  He smiled. “Oh do, please. I’ve never seen anyone leave in a huff, though I’ve heard about it. I’ve seen people leave in a rage, which moves so fast it’s hard to describe. But if you’ve a huff standing by, I’d love to see it.”

  Her lips turned up in spite of herself.

  “Of course,” he added, “I find your grandmamma very desirable as well; it must run in the family.”

  Pippa shot a glance to her grandmother. The lady’s eyes were still closed, her expression hadn’t changed, but her breathing wasn’t yet the full-throated snoring Pippa knew she eased into when she fell fast asleep.

  “But I’d never risk your grandfather’s anger,” he went on. “And I’m sure he would never dangle her in front of me as a lure.”

  “Few men would do that to you where it concerns a female,” she said angrily.

  His shapely mouth grew a slow, curled, and very wicked grin. It changed the appearance of his face, making him look as eerily provocative as a depiction of the devil come to tempt mankind, and womankind.

  “Are you sure of that?” he asked her. “Interesting. You find cleanliness and interest in fashion and a certain niceness in my speech as meaning I don’t desire women? Are only bluff fellows in bad clothes your idea of virility? That will certainly make it easier to find your Noel. We can sniff him out. He must be a stranger to soap; I daresay even a bit heady? Did he clap you on the shoulder to congratulate you whenever you looked as lovely as you do tonight? Did he growl, ‘Give us a kiss, lass,’ and give you a hearty buss on the lips before clapping you on your shapely rump? That’s the way of those hearty fellows.”

  He lowered his voice until she had to strain to hear him. “Or did your Noel spread his hands and run them slowly along the silkiness of your gown until he touched your silkier skin, murmuring his delight in the warmth and smoothness of you? And was his kiss only a slight suggestion of a touch upon your lips at first, and then, when you relaxed, was it a slower, sweeter delving into the increasing sweetness he doubtless found in your mouth?”

  “Stop! You shouldn’t say such things to me!” Pippa said, knowing her protest sounded girlish and insipid even as she breathed it. He’d only praised her with words, but they bordered on lovemaking. He might only be trying to refute the snub she’d made to his masculinity, but she was scandalized, and to her dismay, aroused. His voice beguiled her. His words stroked her, soothed her, tempted her. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or outraged. “It’s disturbing and makes me feel uncomfortable,” she added, sounding prissy even to her own ears.

  “Then I won’t do it again,” he said unapologetically.

  “Why did you?” she persisted.

  “To see how you’d react. Or maybe I meant it. But if you don’t care for it, I won’t continue. Some ladies consider such flattery enjoyable and expect it, like a game of cards after dinner. Some don’t. But you believe I’m uninterested in females?” he asked more briskly. “Interesting. Would you care to wager on it?”

  “No,” she said in a shaken voice, because the mere thought of testing his masculinity was dismaying. And he knew it.

  The only thing she might wager on was that he probably smelled even better than she did, and spent more on his wardrobe. The idea of actually kissing him made her anxious. Was he testing her, teasing her, or trying to frighten her back home?

  No matter, she was only going in one direction—with him, until she found out what had happened to Noel. And so she said as she rose from her chair. “And all the provocative talking in the world isn’t going to deter me,” she added.

  He shrugged. “I thought not. But are you sure that was why I said such things?”

  “You certainly weren’t going to propose marriage to me, and I can’t do anything else with you,” she said bluntly. “Of course you were trying to get me to go home.”

  “You don’t think I find you desirable?”

  “It wouldn’t matter. You know the rules. That’s not how you speak to a well-born unmarried lady.”

  He smiled. “Certainly not. You’re right. I was trying to discourage you. You tell me that nothing will stop you?”

  “Nothing,” she said cle
arly, “will stop me.”

  “Then I apologize,” he said seriously. “Sincerely. It was abominable of me. It won’t happen again.” His smile was crooked. “The least you could do would be to look disappointed.”

  She laughed because she was relieved. But she discovered herself disappointed too.

  “Let’s have peace,” he said. “Forgive me even though my behavior was calculated to be unforgivable. Shall we stop fencing?”

  “I’d like to,” she said honestly.

  “Done. Where are you going?” he asked as she stood.

  “Upstairs, to bed,” she said.

  “Aren’t you going to wait here by the fireside with me until your grandmother awakens?”

  She dared not, in spite of his reassurances not to continue his seductive behavior. The night, the hour, their proximity was too much for her now. “My grandmother,” she said with more certainty than she felt, “isn’t sleeping. She said she was only resting her eyes, and so she is. It’s time for us to go upstairs, Grandmamma,” she added more loudly.

  Her grandmother opened her eyes. She smiled. “Such a lovely little doze I had. Have I missed anything?”

  Montrose rose and came to her side. He smiled down at her. “Not a thing, my dear lady, as you know. You’re sly as a tabby, and just as tempting to pet. But your husband would have my hand off at the wrist if I tendered it to you for anything more than to help you to your rightful night’s rest.”

  Lady Carstairs gave him her hand and began to rise. “Wicked fellow,” she tittered.

  He bowed. “I can but try, my dear lady.”

  Pippa scowled.

  “Gentlemen used to speak as you do, when I was young,” Lady Carstairs said as she leaned on Montrose’s proffered arm. “All innuendo and suggestive. Damned shame they don’t talk that way anymore. It kept a lady on her toes. Or her back,” she added.