A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement #2)(16)

"Needham! Have you come to alleviate my anxiety at last?" Lady Russell asked with what could easily be interpreted as a careless smile, but it was all too clear to one who knew her well that she was beside herself with worry. "Is there word from Marcus?"

"Yes," Nick replied. "The duke is in receipt of a dispatch."

Lady Russell heaved a great sigh of relief. "Thanks to heaven above. What does Marcus say?"

"He informed the duke that he had urgent business that necessitated a detour to Westminster. He assured His Grace that he would depart once more for Woburn Abbey the moment he has taken care of the matter. "

Her brows furrowed as she proceeded to shuffle the cards. "What business would take Marcus to Westminster?"

"He did not expound, my lady, but Marcus does not yet despair of arriving late this evening."

"It is already late this evening," she replied. "What is that foolish boy about to risk traveling the roads late at night?"

"I suspect I have an idea what he is about, but it is not for me to say. You will have to hear it from Marcus." He gazed about the room. "I don't see Lady Mariah. Do you know where she is?"

"I have not seen her since we left the dining room." Lady Russell glanced up as she began to deal the hand. "Lord Rochford seems to have taken an interest in her. Mayhap they are taking some air together?" She accompanied the remark with a meaningful glance toward the terrace.

Her suggestion confirmed his worst fears—that Rochford might try to seduce Mariah. "I will go and look for her," he said. "Surely she will wish to know the news of her cousin."

"I am certain she would," Lady Russell replied. "Please promise you will bring word to me when Marcus arrives."

"I promise." He departed with a slight bow. Nick then headed straight for the terrace, hoping this abominable night wasn't going to end with him being taken away in shackles for assaulting a peer of the realm.





CHAPTER FIVE





"Love is not in our choice but in our fate."- John Dryden





NICK FOUND HER on one of the private terraces overlooking the gardens. Alone. Thank God. Dressed in her ivory gown and drenched in soft moonlight, she resembled nothing so much as an ethereal being leaning wistfully over the balustrade.

"Lady Mariah?" he called out softly.

She turned to face him with a look of surprise. "Mr. Needham?"

"I thought to find you with Rochford."

"Then you were mistaken."

"Mistaken?" He frowned. "I don't believe I mistook his interest in you."

She released a bitter laugh. "His interest is in my estate, perhaps. In my dowry, most certainly. But in me? I assure you not, Mr. Needham."

"Then he is a fool."

"No. We are simply from different worlds. That one is his," she inclined her head to the door, "and this one is mine."

"Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"To be honest, I feel completely out of my element without Lydia. All too much like a sheep in a cow pasture."

"You don't look like a sheep," he said. "A sprite perhaps, but never a sheep."

"A sprite?" She laughed. "You told me you weren't given to false flattery, Mr. Needham."

His grin instantly faded. "There's nothing false in my words, Mariah." Her name slipped all too easily over his tongue. "You have no idea how lovely you are tonight."

Unable to help himself, he reached out to stroke the curls that lay over her pale shoulder. His gaze followed the cascade of golden-brown locks to where the ends rested just above her milky-white breasts. "In the morning sunshine, I thought you resembled a wood nymph, but by moonlight, you are nothing short of angelic. You should always be out of doors, Mariah."

"It's where I prefer to be," she said. "It's where I feel most alive—walking, riding, tending the garden. I've always despised being stuck inside, but now that's where I spend most of my waking hours. My only escape is at night when I sit on my own terrace or walk in the gardens."

"Alone?" he asked, his gaze searching hers. Was he mistaken about her? Did she perhaps have a secret lover?

"Yes," she whispered softly. "Very much . . . alone."

She suddenly looked so forlorn, making him ache for what he couldn't have. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms.

"It would not be so if you were you to marry . . ." The words were out before he could take them back.

"To whom? Someone like Lord Rochford?" she asked, searching his eyes.

"A woman in your position may have her pick of nearly any eligible bachelor in the realm."

She released a derisive laugh. "And I would still be very much alone. I don't seek that kind of marriage, Mr. Needham. 'Tis too beautiful a night to speak of such unpleasant things as marriage." She tilted her face up toward the heavens, exposing the full column of her beautiful neck. "Do you ever stargaze? Or is such an activity too frivolous for a man of your serious temperament?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I have always loved astronomy."

"I have never learned to identify the constellations, but the myths fascinate me. When you look up there tonight, what do you see?"