Nicholas was here for a holiday.This northern village of eternal Christmastide had already given more gifts than anticipated.His brother was welcome to woo any doe-eyed virgin or proper young lady he might wish.The fallen women were the only ones Nicholas was interested in.They wanted a good time; he could provide it.
Chris glanced over his shoulder as if hearing his thoughts.“Aren’t you getting a little too old to pursue the life of a rake?”
“How old is too old for pleasure?”Nicholas countered.A preposterous notion.What else was the point of life?
“At least admit we are getting too old for debutantes,” his brother insisted.
“I’ve never wanted one,” Nicholas said with a shiver.Ghastly thought.
“Whatdoyou want?”his brother asked softly.“Do you know?”
Nicholas considered the question.At six-and-thirty, he much preferred ladies close to his age.
Over the years, he had been propositioned by every kind.Married, widowed, fallen.They weren’t after romance, but distraction.Nicholas was happy to provide it.None of them were looking for love.It wasn’t a service he provided, or even a concept he believed in.
His brother, on the other hand… Nicholas arched his brows.“I suppose you believe your future bride is elbowing her way through this crush, guided by Fate itself into your open, willing arms?”
“I hope so,” Chris said fervently.“Isn’t that what we all want?”
Nicholas stared at him.“I cannot imagine wanting to wake up to the same woman day after day.”
Nor would they wish that with him.For ladies seeking husbands, he was a terrible choice.For those seeking one night of pleasure, however… He was exactly the right man.
His brother leaned forward earnestly.“Haven’t you ever had an evening so perfect that you wished every day going forward would be just like it?”
“Not once.”
Nicholas didn’t even have to think it over.He had never even wished to spend a week with the same woman.
“There she is!”His brother tilted his head excitedly in the approximate direction of three hundred celebrating villagers.
“There who is?”Nicholas craned his neck.“Your future bride?”
“The inventor ofDuke.”Chris explained, his eyes shining.“The reason everyone’s here.”
“Wait.The evil perfumer turning every idiot in London into a self-professed rake is a woman?”Nicholas said in disbelief.
Chris raised his brows.“Are you interested now?”
“Very interested,” Nicholas replied.But not for the reason his brother expected.
He wanted a private audience with the lady perfumer for something else entirely.
Chapter 3
Nicholas hid the flower he’d purchased from the castle greenhouse behind his back and turned up the snow-dusted walk leading to the perfumer’s front door.No matter how hard he tried, life was full of surprises.
Instead of visiting comely ladies of ill repute, today’s target was some bluestocking lady chemist whose naïve oversight had spawned chaos in London’s previously stable social order.The only way to stem the explosion of faux rakelings was to halt production ofDuke.
At least the errand should only take a moment.Not because Nicholas expected his reputation to do the work.By all accounts, Miss Mitchell was as awkward and science-obsessed and reclusive as the most fervent of her male counterparts.The lady was unlikely to have heard of him.
In this case, one could not count on so-called sapphire irises or the curve of his smile to sway her.The rose in his hand was just for insurance.Nicholas intended to appeal to her logic.As a natural philosopher, she was no doubt already immersed in some new project.He would encourage her to give upDukeand focus on that instead.
His knock upon the door was answered by neither a maid nor a butler, but the lady chemist herself.Miss Mitchell wore thick leather mitts with strange burn marks, a stiff gray smock dusted in white powder, and a beleaguered expression.“What?”
Nicholas thrust the flower forward out of reflex.
The prevailing wisdom was that roses could dissolve any disagreement between a lady and a gentleman.Because he had never returned for a second day’s company with the same woman, Nicholas had never had to test the theory.He hoped his brother was right.
