Nicole continued to glance back and forth between them. Oh, yes, there was definitely a spark in the air.
“Are you still hiring ladies to be Bow Street Runners?” Regina asked Daffin, a saucy smile on her lips.
Daffin arched a blond brow. “Are you volunteering?”
“Yes,” Regina replied. “Yes, I am. Especially if I get to work with you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Mark tossed back the final finger of brandy in his glass. He’d been drinking with Oakleaf in his uncle’s study for the last hour. In the shadows, the grandfather clock stirred to life, dutifully bellowing the midnight hour.
“What is it with women in your family and the desire to investigate crime?” Oakleaf asked him. He’d just finished relating the story of how he’d met Regina in the sunroom.
Mark shrugged. “I can’t explain it. It must run in our line.”
“Nicole told me I should hire her.” Oakleaf shook his head.
Mark pushed his empty glass around the desktop in a circle as he considered Oakleaf’s words. “Regina’s clever. Always has been. I should have known she would guess the truth about what happened to John.”
Oakleaf rubbed the back of his neck and groaned.“Yes, well, both ladies peppered me with questions for the better part of an hour. Lady Regina agreed to keep the news a secret, however.”
“Good.” Mark nodded, then shifted in his seat. “And was my wife a ‘sight for sore eyes’ as you said?” He narrowed his eyes on the runner.
“She’s a fine-looking woman.” Oakleaf emptied his glass and set it down with a resolute thud on the desk.
Mark was about to reply to that loaded statement when Oakleaf added, “As is your cousin Regina.”
Mark flicked the glass hard, making a pinging sound. He wanted to toss the bloody thing into the fireplace. Damn it. No good could come of arguing with Oakleaf. The man was obviously trying to rile him. No more brandy. It was time to retire. He and Nicole would be sharing a bedchamber tonight, and Oakleaf was right. She was a fine-looking woman indeed.
A hot jolt of anticipation streaked through Mark’s middle and settled in his groin. Would she welcome him into the bed or ask him to sleep in a chair in the corner? It was bloody ridiculous to contemplate, but he’d put it off for long enough. The last time they’d been alone together, in the coach, she’d said she needed him too. He’d known what she was really saying. She’d lived up to her part of the bargain, now it was time for him to live up to his.
Yes. He needed to be a man and make love to his wife, but it stuck in his craw that she’d mentioned his being upset about her involvement with the runners when they’d spoken in the coach. First, she’d failed to reveal that bit of news before they married. Second, and most importantly, it was true he hadn’t liked her involvementwith Bow Street, but not for the reason she seemed to think.
The runners risked their lives on a daily basis, chasing down thieves and murderers. Nicole might enjoy the adventure, but she put herself at risk by working with Daffin. Mark had been scared witless every time he contemplated her being exposed to such danger. It wasn’t because he didn’t believe women could take care of themselves. Two of his best spies were Daphne and Danielle Cavendish, Rafe’s and Cade’s wives. He’d trust those women with his life. He would trust Nicole too. The difference was… God damn it, the difference was that he hadlovedNicole. She was his family. The only family he had left. He’d watched his father die and he’d been absent for his mother’s death. Losing Nicole would have been too much for him. He’d never said those words aloud. Now it was too late. He’d take his own life before he’d tell her that.
He’d already had to pressure her to allow him to make love to her, not tup her like a common whore. If she didn’t want to call lying with him making love, she certainly wouldn’t want to hear those other words from him now.
He groaned and scrubbed both hands across his face. She wanted a baby. A piece of him that would open him up to the fear of loss, the unimaginable pain. The notion of having a baby made his stomach clench. He hated the thought of losing a child. Seeing his uncle’s reaction to John’s death made it worse. But Mark had agreed to Nicole’s condition. He would not go back on his word. Yes, tonight, he would keep his promise. It was time.
Mark stood and headed toward the door. “Good evening, Oakleaf.”
“Evening, Coleford.” The hint of a smile resided in the runner’s voice.
Mark’s only reply was a growl.
***
Nicole had asked Susanna to help her into the most risquébit of lace and silk that could still qualify for a shift. She pulled her hair down and ran her fingers through it, brushing it until it shone. Next, she drank half a glass of wine to calm her nerves. Then she crawled into the middle of the fluffy white feather bed and kneeled in the center, waiting for Mark.
Not five minutes later, Mark opened the bedchamber door and strode inside as if on a mission. He headed for the antechamber where his clothing was, tugging at his cravat. He didn’t even glance up to look at her. Her knees trembled and her heart pounded. Was the man even going to acknowledge her?
After several minutes passed, she crawled off the bed, stood beside it, and cleared her throat. She placed a hand on her hip to (hopefully) make herself a bit more enticing. Mark emerged from the antechamber, his coat and waistcoat off, his cravat gone, his boots removed, and his shirt opened to the waist, revealing glimpses of his muscled abdomen. He braced a forearm against the antechamber door frame and looked across at Nicole, his eyes hooded, smoky.
The moment their gazes met in the firelight Nicole realized he knew precisely what she was about. Dropping her hand to her side, she took a tentative step towardhim, the slit in her shift coming all the way up to her hip, exposing her leg.
His throat worked when he swallowed. “You haven’t… retired yet, I see.”
“I have no intention of retiring.” She lifted her chin. “Not without you.”
