Page 79 of Worth Any Price
Clearly he was too unsettled to recall that there were others in the room. Lottie turned her face away with a muffled laugh. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “Not here, darling. Later, with more privacy, we can—” She was silenced as Nick seized her mouth once more. Suddenly she found herself pushed up against the wall by six feet of aroused, overwrought male. Realizingthat there was no hope of subduing him, Lottie stroked his broad back in an effort to soothe him. He possessed her with deep, fervent kisses, while his lungs worked so violently that she could feel his rib cage expanding with each breath. She tried to comfort him, gently rubbing the back of his neck as his mouth worked roughly over hers. His breath came in ragged shivers, and in between kisses he breathed her name as if it were a prayer. “Lottie... Lottie...” Each time she tried to answer, he dove for her mouth again.
“Sydney,” Sir Grant said after some prolonged throat-clearing had failed to capture his attention. “Ahem. Sydney...”
After a long time, Nick finally lifted his head.
Lottie pushed at his chest, making him loosen his grip on her. Red-faced and breathless, she saw that Sayer had developed a keenly absorbing interest in the weather outside the window, while Daniel had excused himself to wait outside.
“I am sorry to interrupt your reunion with Lady Sydney, my lord,” Sir Grant said ruefully. “However, I must insist on hearing what has occurred with Radnor, and where he is at the moment, especially in light of the condition of Lady Sydney’s garments.”
Realizing that he was referring to the bloodstains on her dress, Lottie nodded. Nick continued to hold her while she explained. “Lord Radnor died by his own hand,” she told the magistrate. “He brought me to his home, and after we talked for a few minutes, he took his own life.”
“In what manner?” Sir Grant asked calmly.
“He used a pistol.” Lottie felt the tremor thatwent through Nick’s body at the words. “I am at a loss to explain his actions, except to say that he seemed altogether mad. I told his servants to leave his body exactly as it was and not to touch anything, as you might wish to send a runner to investigate the scene.”
“Well done, my lady,” Sir Grant said. “May I prevail on you to answer just a few more questions?”
“Tomorrow,” Nick said roughly. “She’s been through enough today. She needs to rest.”
“I would be more than happy to tell you every detail,” Lottie replied to Sir Grant, “if you will send for a doctor to attend to Lord Sydney’s hand, and also have a look at our footman.”
The magistrate’s green eyes crinkled charmingly at the corners. “We’ll send for Dr. Linley at once.”
“I’ll fetch him,” Sayer volunteered and left the office quickly.
“Excellent,” Morgan commented, his gaze returning to Nick. “And while we wait for Linley, my lord, perhaps you can explain to me how you came by your injuries—and why you look and smell like you’ve been tromping through Fleet Ditch.”
Much later, when they were at home in bed and had talked for what seemed to be hours, Nick told Lottie about the thoughts he’d had in the perilous moments when he’d thought he would fall to his death in the warehouse. As Lottie listened, she snuggled in the crook of his arm, gently circling her fingertips through the hair on his chest. Hisvoice was deep and drowsy from the effects of the pain medication that Dr. Linley had insisted on giving him before setting and splinting his fingers. Nick had taken it only because the alternative was the undignified prospect of being held to the floor by Sayer and Morgan while the doctor poured the medicine down his throat.
“I never wanted to live so much as I did right then, hanging on to that rotting timber,” Nick said. “I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again. All I want is time with you. To spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care about anything else.”
Murmuring her love to him, Lottie kissed the hard silken skin of his shoulder.
“Remember when I told you once that I needed to be a runner?” he asked.
Lottie nodded. “You said that you were addicted to the challenge and the danger.”
“I’m not any longer,” he said vehemently.
“Thank God for that,” Lottie said with a smile, lifting herself up on one elbow. “Because I have become rather addicted toyou.”
Nick traced the moonlit curve of her back with his fingers. “And I finally know what to wish for.”
Puzzled, she gazed down at him while the long locks of her hair trailed over his chest and shoulders. “What?”
“The wishing well,” he reminded her.
“Oh, yes...” Lottie lowered her face to his chest and nuzzled the soft fur, recalling that morning in the forest. “You wouldn’t make a wish.”
“Because I didn’t know what I wanted. And now I do.”
“What do you want?” she asked tenderly.
His hand slipped behind her head, pulling her mouth down to his. “To love you forever,” he whispered just before their lips met.
Epilogue
An hour after Master John Robert Cannon was born, Sir Ross carried his infant son to the parlor, where friends and family waited. A chorus of soft, delighted exclamations greeted the sight of the sleeping baby wrapped in a lace-trimmed blanket. Surrendering the bundle to his beaming mother, Catherine, Sir Ross made his way to a chair and lowered himself into it with a long sigh.
