A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement #2)(8)

As to the other, at the moment he was absolutely certain it had not suffered from prolonged disuse. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been with a woman, probably over a year ago at the preliminary peace talks in Breda. Given their success in setting the stage for a treaty, he'd indulged in a rare spree of celebratory dissipation.

Nick had never had a mistress. He'd never even entertained thoughts of keeping a woman for pleasure, for the very same reason he'd never contemplated marriage—because he was man of extremely limited means. His only hope to improve his circumstances would be advancement in the diplomatic corps, which meant endless work and constant travel. He'd long ago accepted that work would fill his hours and emptiness would be his constant bedmate—a dismal future indeed.

"I wonder what sort of man you are, Mr. Needham," she said. "Are you content to cheer the team on, or will you secretly be itching to best them?"

"Are you dropping the gauntlet, Lady Mariah?" He smiled. "Let us say that Marcus is not the only one who hates to lose."

"Neither do I. I am also possessed of a competitive nature, especially at cards," she confessed with a grin. "I would love to watch you play cricket."

"Given the duke's fondness for the sport, no doubt the opportunity will present. Do you really enjoy the game?"

"I do. I even played a bit when I was a girl. I was a tolerable bowler, but I could never quite master batting. I don't know if it was poor timing, the size of the bat, or the weakness of my stroke, but I always pitied my fellow batsman."

"The size of the bat matters little as long as one employs proper timing and a forceful stroke. Ideally, the two batsmen should be in perfect synchrony as they come together." Nick almost groaned at the innuendo in his own words.

"Indeed? Do you suppose you could teach me?" She smiled up at him again before dropping her blue-green gaze. "I suppose I shouldn't presume to monopolize your time. I know that you must attend to your business rather than my pleasure."

Her pleasure. Nicolas shut his eyes on a sudden image of Mariah lost in the throes of ecstasy.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Needham?" she asked.

"No, my lady," he replied. Unable to resist any longer, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I would take great delight in making my business your pleasure."





CHAPTER TWO





"Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense,

But good men starve for want of impudence." - John Dryden





MARIAH'S EYES JOLTED OPEN to discover her head resting against the broad, solid surface of Mr. Needham's shoulder. "I-I beg your pardon," she stammered. "I must have dozed off." Noting the carriage had ceased its movement, she asked, "Have we arrived?"

"No," Mr. Needham replied. "The road is obstructed by a fallen tree. I was loath to wake you, but 'twould be best if I alight to assist the coachman in moving it."

"Is it a very large tree?" she asked.

"I don't believe so, but it still must be moved. This is a heavily forested stretch of road, and there is no way around it."

Lady Russell sat up with a yawn. Eyeing them with blinking eyes, she asked, "Why have we stopped, Needham?"

"A tree has fallen across the road. I must go and have a look."

"Perhaps I shall go with you," Mariah said. "I am unaccustomed to sitting so long. It would be good to stretch my legs."

Mr. Needham inclined his head to Lady Russell. "Would you also care to alight?"

"I think not, Needham. One fallen tree looks much like another."

"As you will, my lady."

"A moment, if you please, Needham." Lady Russell reached beneath the seat and slid open a drawer, revealing a pair of pistols.

"You have a hidden compartment?" Mariah exclaimed.

"One can never be too careful, my dear. I have them cleaned and loaded prior to every journey. Marcus insists that I carry them in case of trouble." Lady Russell offered one of the weapons, muzzle downward, to Mr. Needham. "Have a care, Needham."

"I believe the tree is already quite dead," he quipped, "but thank you for the warning, madam." He tucked the pistol into the waistband of his breeches.

Mr. Needham opened the door and preceded Mariah out of the coach with a leap. Mariah hesitated upon noting the coachman had not let down the stairs.

"Would you like me to assist you, my lady?"

"If you please, Mr. Needham." She sucked in a breath as he settled his large hands on her waist. Their gazes met and held as he lifted her effortlessly to the ground. "Thank you, Mr. Needham," she said, feeling quite breathless.

"Nicolas, please," he murmured softly, his hands still on her waist. She darted a nervous glance toward the open coach door. They were in plain view of Lady Russell. He must have realized it too. He dropped his hands abruptly from her sides.

"Pray stay close by, my lady, whilst I go and assess the situation."

She breathed a sigh of relief when he turned his back. In truth, she was in great need to relieve herself but never would have said so in front of him. Heading in the opposite direction behind the coach, she located a thicket of shrubbery, where she quickly took care of her needs. After settling her skirts, she headed toward the front of the vehicle and froze at the sight of the coachman lying insensible on the ground. Her gaze darted upward to find two large masked men with pistols. One was mounted, and the other stood facing Nicolas with his weapon cocked. Thankfully, neither of the brigands had taken notice of her. She crouched along the side of the coach, close enough to hear but hopefully not to be discovered. Her mind raced. What to do?