The Nightingale Legacy (Legacy 2)

He shrugged. “I would hire an estate manager. As for banking, I would no more set foot into the City than I would go to America. I told you, Caroline, I’m a gentleman. Gentlemen aren’t in trade.”

She rose then and placed her hands palm-down on the desktop. “You’re a fool, Bennett, but I will think about this, though I can’t imagine giving you the money to dupe some poor girl into marrying you.”

“Then you’ll never be rid of me, Caroline. This is my home now, just as it’s yours. There are three pregnant little sluts just upstairs. After they’ve dropped their brats, why then, I can have my pick of them. Perhaps I won’t be so bored after all.” He turned and strolled from the room, whistling now as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Damn him. He was right. What was she going to do?

“All right, Caroline, what’s going on? You look like you’re ready to shoot somebody.”

She was pacing back and forth in North’s drawing room still so furious she was near to panting with it. “It’s Bennett,” she said, striving to keep her voice from shaking with rage, stopping just a moment, then resuming her pacing.

He drew up, now alarmingly rigid. “Did that mangy little bastard insult you?”

His harsh tone brought her up short. That would enrage him? If she were the one insulted? Ah, perhaps… She smiled at him, a big beautiful smile, and made North wish he’d kept his damned mouth shut. As for Caroline, it was strange, but suddenly her rage at Bennett had unaccountably dispersed like rain clouds. There was nothing but bright sunshine.

She said now, quite unconcerned, “No, he didn’t insult me, not directly anyway. He wants five thousand pounds from me so he can go to London and catch himself an heiress for a wife. Then I can buy him out of his half of everything here, and there’s got to be lots of money in it, naturally. Then he can continue a wastrel’s life.”

“That’s not all of it, is it? That would just make you laugh, Caroline. Come on now, what else?”

“He said if I didn’t give him the money, he’d wait until my ladies dropped their brats and then he’d have them himself. He called them sluts, acted like he’d be some sort of sultan with his own harem.”

North found himself looking again at her heaving breasts. His fingers itched to touch her, to fondle her breasts, to hold them in his hands, to close his eyes while he felt her soft flesh. He shook himself and rose. “What do you want me to do about him?”

“Oh, it’s not your problem, North. Forgive me, I was just so very angry and Regina came here without my even telling her where I wanted to go. What did you do to my mare, other than change her name? She dotes on you. It’s quite revolting. I’ve fed her and loved her since she was foaled, yet all her loyalty lands on your lap after only a couple of days.”

“You really should give Regina to me.”

“No, I shan’t. Why didn’t Treetop fall in love with me? I treated him well, sang to him, as a matter of fact. No, he saw you and came running. He couldn’t wait to get away from me. It’s not fair.”

“Call me magic,” he said.

“All right, that’s fair, but about the horses—”

“Caroline, just stop it.”

She sighed. “Oh, you’ll like this. Coombe nearly expired on the spot when he opened the door to find me standing there, flicking my riding crop against my boot, picturing it as Bennett’s back.”

“I can imagine,” North said. “Now, Caroline, what do you want from me?”

She studied him, then said quietly, “I want you to hold me, just hold me, North, and then, perhaps, if that turns out satisfactorily, you could consider kissing me and caressing me with your hands like you did before. It was wonderful. I liked everything you did.”

He shuddered and didn’t move. His hands were clenched at his sides. “Go away, Caroline. I have business to attend to. I have no more time for any of this. If you want me to kill Bennett, just ask. As for the other, go away. I’m not at all interested in any of it.”

“Oh no, I won’t go away,” she said, and walked to him. He stood rigid as a stick but it didn’t deter her. Mrs. Trebaw was right—life was too uncertain to dither about. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. She touched her fingers to his chin, to his nose, to his dark eyebrows, smoothing them lightly. “You are so beautiful, North. Please kiss me.”

“Damn you,” he said, “I’m a man. I’m not beautiful. I told you, men are big and ungainly and—” and he kissed her. He tried not to touch her but that didn’t last long. Very quickly she was in his arms, his hands wild on her back, clutching her tightly to him, then easing, only to cup her buttocks and lift her against him. He was breathing hard, and his tongue was in her mouth, touching her, tasting her, and he wanted, quite simply, to yell with the pleasure of it.

“My lord.”

He wanted to pull up her riding skirts, to feel the soft flesh of her thighs, to billow her skirts and petticoats up around her chest, to have her naked to the waist, her beautiful legs parted for him so he could…

“My lord!”

“Oh hell,” he said into her mouth. He was shaking like a palsy sufferer, so intent on what she was making him feel, on what he wanted to do to her, on just having her now, here in the drawing room. Lord he wanted to touch her flesh, feel the dampness of her, her need for him, kiss that delightful smile off her mouth and bring on a moan instead.

“My lord, this is most inappropriate; it is unacceptable from everyone’s perspective. You must gather yourself together and pull yourself apart from the Female Person. We have guests and they cannot be ignored.”

Slowly, breathing deeply to regain a semblance of control, North eased out of her hold. She was standing there, just staring up at him, and he saw something in her green eyes that scared the devil out of him. He knew trust when he saw it and it was there, deep and clear in her eyes, as clear as the passion that was still burning brightly between them.