This felt right. This she knew for certain. When he was in her arms, she had no more doubts. Fears faded. Some part of her knew.
This was where she was meant to be.
Chapter Twenty-Three
He was a coward. A spineless fool of a man with more carnal frustration pent up than he’d ever felt in his life.
They’d been back at Enderley for two days, and Nick had tried his best to give Mina time to consider his offer. He’d kept himself busy with village matters and visits from the vicar and magistrate and every other resident of Barrowmere who wished to grouse about his father and brother.
He agreed with every complaint, but none of it improved his mood.
He survived on glimpses of Mina, who was matching him in the pursuit of mindless tasks and busy making. She’d met with masons, painters, men who would remove more of the furniture and antiquities in the coming weeks. Now he wasn’t even certain he wished to gut the estate and rent it. He couldn’t ask Mina to live in an empty castle.
All he truly wanted was her answer.
Every hour that passed, the terror grew. Was she biding her time before refusing him? The more he asked himself the question, the greater an answering compulsion grew to keep her, win her, convince her. But he still couldn’t bring himself to expose the inner workings of his rusty heart as she wished. He couldn’t promise to be what he wasn’t. Worse, he didn’t know if he had the wherewithal to be the sort of man she would find an ounce of happiness with.
He wasn’t Huntley, with natural charm and a face like Adonis. He wasn’t Iverson, whose instinct unerringly led him to do what was right and good.
He could offer Mina a title, wealth, his devotion. He didn’t have more to give.
Each night since they’d returned, he’d started toward her room in the dead of night. Body aching, heart thudding, he’d make it as far as her door, determined to kiss her until she forgot her name and love her so well that she screamedyesagain and again.
But each night he’d stopped himself on the verge of knocking. As much as he wanted her, he needed this choice to be hers. He couldn’t bear a lifetime of doubt. Of thinking he’d seduced her into an answer or pressed for one too soon.
One result of his visits to the village had been a barrage of haranguing to attend Lady Claxton’s ball. He’d only agreed when Wilder informed him that half of Enderley’s servants would be in service at the event, and that Mina had agreed to help manage them.
He would have far preferred that she was attending as his soon-to-be bride.
But he’d dressed and shaved, and when he descended the stairs to make his way to the ball, he discovered most of the staff had already gone to the Claxtons’.
Except for Mina.
The light in her office was on, and he heard a crash and curse before he reached the doorway.
She was bent over, her back to him, retrieving a pile of account ledger books from the floor. Nick approached to help her, and she skidded back as if she’d been scalded.
“I thought you would have been on your way to Lady Claxton’s,” she said, taking in his evening clothes.
“Aren’t you attending?” Nick noted that she’d dressed in a prettier gown than her usual dresses. This one had a far more revealing cut that showed off her neck and shoulders.
“I agreed to help Wilder manage the other servants who were sent to assist the Claxton staff.”
“But you’re still here.”
“Mrs. Scribb decided to go, so I won’t be needed.”
“I need you.” The words came out before he could stop them. They were as raw as any truth he’d ever spoken.
He didn’t truly want to attend a ball. But he very much wanted an excuse to have Mina in his arms again.
She swallowed hard, but her eyes softened. He liked discovering that whatever she felt for him, masking it was impossible. “I’ll be in the kitchen or directing footmen in the refreshment room. It’s not as if we’ll be together.”
“I can manage to find the kitchen.”
“You can’t go belowstairs at Lord and Lady Claxtons’ home. You’re the Duke of Tremayne.”
“We’ll see.” Nick offered her his arm. Whatever it took, he was damn well going to dance with her tonight.