Page 16 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“You are drunk,” she said, and he laughed again.
“And you are beautiful, you still are beautiful, even after all these years,” he replied.
“Much has passed since we last saw one another,” she said, confused by his behavior.
Was he chastising her for what she had done in accepting Edward’s proposal, was he taunting her, or did his words truly mean something? A man will surely speak the truth of his heart when his tongue is loosened by drink, and perhaps this was Nicholas’ way of telling her how he truly felt.
“And much is still to pass. You look very happy though, Becks, and who am I to stand in your way? See, I still have your pledge,” he said, reaching into his pocket and bringing out the red ribbon she had given him all those years ago.
“You kept it?” she whispered, and he nodded.
“Of course, I kept it, just as I kept you in my heart. But you had to take up withhim.Why? What possessed you?” he asked, shaking his head, his body now swaying from side to side, as he attempted to steady himself.
Rebecca could feel a flush rising in her cheeks at his audacity. She had no choice but to choose Edward, as much as it pained her to do so. It may be an unhappy choice, but it was one which would see a better life for her than if she and Laura remained with her uncle. Besides, it was Nicholas who had run off to the colonies, free with his favors and flirtations.
“Did you expect me to wait for you? To allow you to walk back into my life whenever you chose to do so? Is this that moment? You have stepped off a boat this very day and thought that I would be waiting. I waited a long time, and I kept your pledge. But you do not know what I have endured these years past, years when you showed no concern for me,” she said, tears rising in her eyes.
She had waited for him, wept for him, longed for him, desired him. But he had been absent, far away in foreign climes, living as a man without thought for past connection, and she had heard enough to know that scandal had dogged him. But despite that, despite everything, she still loved him, and it pained her to know that a different path had now been laid out for her.
“But Edward Johnson, really, Becks. He does not even have a title. A naval officer, and what is that but a deckhand with braiding? You are worth far more than that,” Nicholas said, taking a drink of brandy and shaking his head.
“I do not have a choice, Nicholas,” she replied, and he smiled at her.
“It was always ‘Nicholas’ when you were cross with me, ‘Nick’ when I had done something right,” he said.
“And it could still have been Nick, if you had bothered to come home from the colonies,” she said.
“It matters not, now, it matters not at all. There is no hope,” he said, and she looked at him curiously.
It seemed an odd thing to say, as though he were keeping something back from her. But his drunken state appeared confused, and he continued to slur his words, grinning at her in the manner of one who has imbibed too much of his host’s punch.
“I do not understand what you mean?” she asked, and he took a step forward, glancing her up and down, his eyes meeting hers and a smile playing across his face.
“Betrothals, romances, all of it… We are the unhappy recipients of fate,” he said, still making little sense.
“I had no choice, Nicholas. You do not know what it has been like. My uncle is the harshest of men, a man with few morals and fewer manners. Laura is terrified of him, and Edward has offered us an escape. When I am married, the two of us will go to live with him. He may be a naval officer, but his father is a viscount, and he is the second son. He is a man of good fortune with a fine townhouse here in London, far more than a deckhand with braiding. Besides, what business is it of yours whom I marry?” she asked, and he took a deep breath.
“Does the past count for nothing?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“It counts for a great deal. But need I remind you that it was you who left, you who went off to the colonies, you who …” she began, and he stepped toward her, causing her heart to race with that old familiarity which had always come at the anticipation of his touch.
“You must escape your uncle, just as I had to escape my mother. I could not remain here a moment longer. I was young, pig-headed, and confused. But seeing you tonight … oh, Becks, what a fool I have been. But it is all too late, there is no hope now,” he said, taking another step toward her.
Thoughts of all they had shared ran through her mind, the memory of his touch, the tender moments they had shared. She pressed herself back against the bookcases which lined the wall, the smell of dust mixing with his cologne, as he placed his arms gently around her. A shiver ran through her. This was what she desired, yet she knew it was forbidden, his lips now pressing against hers.
“Nick…,” she whispered, but it was no use, for she had already given in to her desires, his hands upon her waist, drawing her closer to him, their lips as one.
“Do not hold back,” he gasped, his body now pressed against hers, their lips meeting once more.
His hand moved to her breast, his lips now upon her neck as she arched her back, and several of the books fell from the shelf with a clatter. She knew the scandal of what was now occurring, but instinct set in, all rational thoughts gone as she gave into the passions he aroused in her. She would willingly have given herself to him there and then, as much an act of defiance as intimacy. This was the forbidden fruit, the memory she had held, and the desire she had believed she would never have chance to give into.
“Here … now,” she shuddered, a rush of heat running through her as he pulled at the arms of her dress, and she ripped the buttons from his tunic, exposing his chest as his lips now circled her neck.
“And I have around a thousand books here, quite a remarkable collection,” Lord Sefton was saying, as the door to the library opened, and the portly aristocrat entered, followed by a dozen or so others.
Rebecca gasped, clutching at her dress as Nicholas stepped back, the two of them flushed with embarrassment. But the deed had already been observed, and a cry of shock went up amongst the guests as Lord Sefton turned an embarrassed shade of red and let out a loud harumph.
“Your Lordship …” Nicholas began.
