Chapter Six
Nicholas was not, by nature, an impulsive man.He liked a good plan.A solid strategy.A worthy opponent.And Lady Beatrix, in all her vexing, sharp-tongued glory, was a battlefield unto herself.
He leaned against the wooden casing of his bedchamber’s open window, coat unbuttoned, the breeze licking at his shirt collar, and thought again of the way she’d looked tonight in the veranda’s moonlight—her eyes flaring when she challenged him, her lips parted on a breath of shock when he’d countered with ease.Every bit of her had radiated defiance, intellect, allure.
And her mouth.
Hell.
He closed his eyes and let his head tip against the pane.Patience, Vanover.He hadn’t come this far to be undone by a pair of clever lips and a spine made of steel.But it was proving to be...tempting.
He’d always known Lady Beatrix was different.But this Season—this particular evening—had confirmed what he hadn’t yet admitted to himself: he wanted her.Wanted her wit and will and impossible fire.Wanted her in his bed, yes, but more dangerously…wanted her everywhere else too.Inconvenient, perhaps…but undeniable.
Of course, he suspected she had a secret.She was far too interested in the workings of politics.Personally, he believed she might well have been the one who’d leaked a few of the Tory secrets to the Whigs of late.He couldn’t prove it, of course, but he wouldn’t put it past her.The other men thought she attended her father’s political salons for the social diversion.But Nicholas knew better.Lady Beatrix didn’t give a toss about social calls.She was there to listen.To catalogue.To understand what was being planned.
And that, perhaps more than anything, made her more desirable.
She would make an excellent wife for a man with political ambition—steady at his side, sharp of mind, capable of speaking with authority on matters most women were expected merely to smile through.She would understand his interests, challenge his thinking, and never require him to simplify the world for her comfort.
That was the first reason he wanted her.
The second was far less respectable.
He harbored no illusion that Lady Beatrix would be won without a battle.The catch, of course, was that Nicholas had no intention of playing the fool.He had been a lover.A seducer.And perhaps too many things in between…but never, never a romantic.Not even when the lady in question hurled exquisitely barbed insults that made his blood hum.And he already knew she would do everything in her considerable power to thwart him.
He grinned to himself.Why did he like the thought of that even more?
A rap at the door pulled him from his untoward thoughts.
“Enter,” he called, still staring out at the starlit darkness.
Godwin, his ever-efficient butler, stepped inside.“Pardon the interruption, my lord, but the Duke of Winston awaits you in the study.”
Nicholas blinked.“The duke?”
“Yes, my lord.He said it was a matter of some importance.”
This was odd.Winston rarely sought him out directly—certainly not at Archer House.Their dealings were almost always conducted on the duke’s terms.In the duke’s study, no less.Nicholas pushed away from the window, tugged his coat straight, and nodded.
“Tell His Grace I shall be down directly.”
Godwin bowed and vanished.
Nicholas took one last breath of cool night air, rolled his shoulders once, and strode from the room.
The study wasall dark walnut paneling and subdued lamplight.Winston stood near the hearth, a tumbler of brandy in one hand, his other resting lightly on the mantel.He’d obviously helped himself to the drink.He was not a man who liked to be kept waiting.
Nicholas stepped inside and shut the door behind him.“Your Grace.”
Winston turned.“Vanover.”
Nicholas eyed him carefully.He didn’t smile.Something told him this wasn’t about politics.He crossed to the sideboard, poured himself a modest splash of brandy, and gestured lightly with the glass.“Unexpected call.Everything well?”
Winston’s mouth twitched, almost a smile.“Everything’s about to be.”
Nicholas took a sip and waited.
The duke straightened and faced him fully.“I won’t waste your time.I’ve spoken to my daughter this evening.”
