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Authors: Victoria Vane
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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."
"Then you are a fool, Needham."
"Excuse me?"
"What young woman wants to be alone on a moonlit terrace? Indeed, we are both fools, for I never should have encouraged her to accept Rochford."
"Why is that?" he asked. "He's one of the most eligible bachelors in England."
"Who I have every reason to believe is presently cavorting with Lady Cumberbatch. She pled a headache a while ago and left the card tables. Shortly after that, Rochford also disappeared in her direction. It is no secret they were once lovers. I do not believe that Mariah has the temperament to suffer such a marital arrangement. She desires affection and fidelity, and I don't believe Rochford is capable of either. You, however . . ."
"Me?" he repeated, aghast. "What are you suggesting? You know my circumstances."
"Pshaw! A man's circumstances can change, Needham—especially given proper motivation."
Proper motivation? What did that mean?
"Dear me, it grows late." She suppressed a yawn. "I do believe I should like to retire now. Would you be so kind as to retrieve my errant charge? I won't rest unless I am assured she is in your safe hands."
His safe hands? He wasn't sure how to respond to that, but Lady Russell tripped away before he could answer.
Determined only to escort Mariah back inside, he spun to the terrace door and opened it. Bloody, bloody hell . She was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
" For present joys are more to flesh and blood
Than a dull prospect of a distant good."- John Dryden
THROUGH EYES BLURRED WITH TEARS, Mariah navigated the meandering gravel path to the ornamental fountain at the garden's center. Her sobs gradually diminished to an occasional sniff. She sat on the stone bench to remove a pebble that had worked its way into her slipper and then shut her eyes in an
"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."
"Then you are a fool, Needham."
"Excuse me?"
"What young woman wants to be alone on a moonlit terrace? Indeed, we are both fools, for I never should have encouraged her to accept Rochford."
"Why is that?" he asked. "He's one of the most eligible bachelors in England."
"Who I have every reason to believe is presently cavorting with Lady Cumberbatch. She pled a headache a while ago and left the card tables. Shortly after that, Rochford also disappeared in her direction. It is no secret they were once lovers. I do not believe that Mariah has the temperament to suffer such a marital arrangement. She desires affection and fidelity, and I don't believe Rochford is capable of either. You, however . . ."
"Me?" he repeated, aghast. "What are you suggesting? You know my circumstances."
"Pshaw! A man's circumstances can change, Needham—especially given proper motivation."
Proper motivation? What did that mean?
"Dear me, it grows late." She suppressed a yawn. "I do believe I should like to retire now. Would you be so kind as to retrieve my errant charge? I won't rest unless I am assured she is in your safe hands."
His safe hands? He wasn't sure how to respond to that, but Lady Russell tripped away before he could answer.
Determined only to escort Mariah back inside, he spun to the terrace door and opened it. Bloody, bloody hell . She was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
" For present joys are more to flesh and blood
Than a dull prospect of a distant good."- John Dryden
THROUGH EYES BLURRED WITH TEARS, Mariah navigated the meandering gravel path to the ornamental fountain at the garden's center. Her sobs gradually diminished to an occasional sniff. She sat on the stone bench to remove a pebble that had worked its way into her slipper and then shut her eyes in an
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