they do to us if we get caught?” Weighing the consequences of her actions was something Nicole had rarely done. But now that she knew what it was to be caned, her face battered and bruised, she gave it some thought.
“Might give us a few extra chores. Never got a lickin’, so you don’t have t’ worry on that score.”
Nicki grinned. Extra work she could handle. Riding free again, feeling the wind against her face, would be worth the risk.
“I’ll be gone for a coupla weeks,” Patrick said, “takin’ some o’ the horses up to Plaquemine to the races. You keep practicin’ and when I get back we’ll make a night o’ it.”
“All right, Patrick—you’ve got a deal.”
Alex headed upstairs to bathe before his meeting with Thomas Demming.
Lemuel, the aging black man who served as his valet, had readied the copper tub and laid out his clothes, a dark gray frock coat, burgundy waistcoat, and darker burgundy breeches. A tray of cold meat, cheese, bread, and fruit sat on a mahogany tilt-top table beside his favorite overstuffed chair, along with a bottle of wine and a stemmed crystal goblet.
He smiled at the old man’s efficiency. There’d be late supper for him and Thomas, served to them in the study, but this would do nicely until then.
Lemuel always looked after him. Alex made amental note to check on the old man’s rheumatism, make sure he wasn’t working too hard.
After a hurried bath, Alex toweled himself dry and started getting dressed. He should be thinking about the contracts Thomas was here to review, but found his mind on his little copper-haired bond servant instead. He was glad he had bought her, he admitted, remembering the stories she had told. He couldn’t stand the thought of her mistreatment—and he liked her. He had discovered that again tonight as he had before. She was open and honest. Guileless, as he wouldn’t have expected from one who had led such a difficult life.
What he didn’t like was the physical attraction he felt whenever he was in her presence.
Nom de Dieu
, the girl was still a child. Well, not quite a child, but certainly not old enough for his conscience to allow him any real interest in her. She seemed older than her years, to be sure. But her body was far from ready. Where were the lush curves he’d always found attractive, the swell of bosom his hands should be eager to hold?
It was insane, and he knew it. But a problem just the same. He’d been thinking about it all evening as he watched her on the old dun horse. And he thought he’d found a solution.
In three more years, four at most, Nicki would be grown. If she matured anywhere near her potential, she would be a beautiful woman. She liked him; that much was obvious. And she certainly had no one to provide for her. What better candidate for a mistress?
Alex was a patient man, he could wait if he had to. His instincts told him the girl would be worth it. Inthe meantime, he could surely control himself. After all, he had Lisette to warm his bed, and soon he’d have a wife as well. With a smile of satisfaction, Alex combed his dark-brown hair, straightened the cuffs on his ruffle-fronted white shirt, and headed downstairs.
“Thomas,” he said, striding into the elegant receiving salon and extending his hand, “it’s good to see you.”
Smiling, the slim blond man in navy-blue tailcoat and fitted gray breeches came to his feet, accepting the handshake heartily. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Thomas isn’t the only one who’s come to call. I hope you don’t mind, darling.”
Alex turned at the sound of a female voice approaching from behind him. “Clarissa …” He captured her slender, white-gloved fingers. “I wasn’t expecting you back for another two weeks.” Leaning over, careful not to muss her elegant silver-blue, satin-trimmed skirts, he kissed her cheek.
“Fortunately, Maxwell’s improvement was more rapid than we’d anticipated.” Maxwell Thornton was Clarissa
“Might give us a few extra chores. Never got a lickin’, so you don’t have t’ worry on that score.”
Nicki grinned. Extra work she could handle. Riding free again, feeling the wind against her face, would be worth the risk.
“I’ll be gone for a coupla weeks,” Patrick said, “takin’ some o’ the horses up to Plaquemine to the races. You keep practicin’ and when I get back we’ll make a night o’ it.”
“All right, Patrick—you’ve got a deal.”
Alex headed upstairs to bathe before his meeting with Thomas Demming.
Lemuel, the aging black man who served as his valet, had readied the copper tub and laid out his clothes, a dark gray frock coat, burgundy waistcoat, and darker burgundy breeches. A tray of cold meat, cheese, bread, and fruit sat on a mahogany tilt-top table beside his favorite overstuffed chair, along with a bottle of wine and a stemmed crystal goblet.
He smiled at the old man’s efficiency. There’d be late supper for him and Thomas, served to them in the study, but this would do nicely until then.
Lemuel always looked after him. Alex made amental note to check on the old man’s rheumatism, make sure he wasn’t working too hard.
After a hurried bath, Alex toweled himself dry and started getting dressed. He should be thinking about the contracts Thomas was here to review, but found his mind on his little copper-haired bond servant instead. He was glad he had bought her, he admitted, remembering the stories she had told. He couldn’t stand the thought of her mistreatment—and he liked her. He had discovered that again tonight as he had before. She was open and honest. Guileless, as he wouldn’t have expected from one who had led such a difficult life.
What he didn’t like was the physical attraction he felt whenever he was in her presence.
Nom de Dieu
, the girl was still a child. Well, not quite a child, but certainly not old enough for his conscience to allow him any real interest in her. She seemed older than her years, to be sure. But her body was far from ready. Where were the lush curves he’d always found attractive, the swell of bosom his hands should be eager to hold?
It was insane, and he knew it. But a problem just the same. He’d been thinking about it all evening as he watched her on the old dun horse. And he thought he’d found a solution.
In three more years, four at most, Nicki would be grown. If she matured anywhere near her potential, she would be a beautiful woman. She liked him; that much was obvious. And she certainly had no one to provide for her. What better candidate for a mistress?
Alex was a patient man, he could wait if he had to. His instincts told him the girl would be worth it. Inthe meantime, he could surely control himself. After all, he had Lisette to warm his bed, and soon he’d have a wife as well. With a smile of satisfaction, Alex combed his dark-brown hair, straightened the cuffs on his ruffle-fronted white shirt, and headed downstairs.
“Thomas,” he said, striding into the elegant receiving salon and extending his hand, “it’s good to see you.”
Smiling, the slim blond man in navy-blue tailcoat and fitted gray breeches came to his feet, accepting the handshake heartily. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Thomas isn’t the only one who’s come to call. I hope you don’t mind, darling.”
Alex turned at the sound of a female voice approaching from behind him. “Clarissa …” He captured her slender, white-gloved fingers. “I wasn’t expecting you back for another two weeks.” Leaning over, careful not to muss her elegant silver-blue, satin-trimmed skirts, he kissed her cheek.
“Fortunately, Maxwell’s improvement was more rapid than we’d anticipated.” Maxwell Thornton was Clarissa
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