Chapter Fourteen
Bea found the entire thing supremely ironic.
Her father, who would have been struck speechless with outrage had he heard even half of what Nicholas had murmured into her ear last night, had insisted she accompany the man on a walk.
Alone.Through the gardens behind their town house.
Because according to her father, Nicholas was arespectable suitor.
If only Father knew how thoroughlyunrespectableNicholas’s imagination had proven itself to be.She’d thought long and hard about it last night as she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep.Nicholas had been trying to rattle her.That was all.He wanted to see how prudish she was.How easily he could affect her.And she’d played right into his hands.Today, she had every intention of giving him no quarter.
In fact, she had a new strategy.A man like Nicholas desired power…and control.And what was the opposite of wielding power?Being mocked, of course.Which was precisely how she intended to handle him today.
Bea stepped through the garden gate, letting it fall shut behind her with a faint clink, and found Nicholas already waiting near the trellised archway at the path’s edge.The morning sunlight caught on his dark hair, but his powder-blue coat was cut as perfectly as ever.
He bowed slightly.“Lady Beatrix.”
“My lord,” she returned, sweeping past him.“Shall we walk and pretend my father didn’t just order me to be alone with a man he’d hang by his neck if he had the faintest idea what that man whispered last night?”
Nicholas chuckled as he fell into step beside her.“I already know you didn’t tell him.”
“Oh, do you?”she asked sweetly.
“Yes,” he replied with a grin.“Or he’d already have called me out.Seems I was right about you all along.”
“Right about what, precisely?My intelligence?My restraint?Or my exceedingly poor judgment in allowing you within ten paces of me last night?”
They walked along the pebbled path between neatly clipped hedges, their steps silent but for the gentle crunch of gravel and the occasional chirp of a bird overhead.The scent of lilies lingered in the air.
“You’re quiet this morning,” he said after a moment.
“I’m reflecting on how not to be seduced.”
“Ah.A worthy intellectual pursuit.”
“Indeed.So far, I’m finding it remarkably easy.”She gave him a tight smile.
He pressed a hand to his heart.“Cruel.”
She shrugged.
They reached a moss-covered bench, but she ignored it, veering down the side path that led toward the stone garden wall and the slightly overgrown area her mother and the gardener never quite managed to care about.
Nicholas followed, naturally.
“Perhaps,” she said, casting a glance over her shoulder, “you’re not very good at this seduction business.”
His smile didn’t slip.“Is that so?”
“Well.”She stopped by the low wall, turning toward him with one brow raised.“Would you prefer I simply leaned back here…like this”—she pressed herself lightly against the cool stone—“and waited for you to kiss me?”
He stopped short.His eyes locked on hers.“That’s not funny,” he said softly.
“Isn’t it?”she asked, voice bright and teasing.
“No,” he said.“Because if you keep doing that, Iwillkiss you.”
She laughed lightly, brushing her fingers along the edge of the wall.“You’re not terribly convincing.I still don’t feel seduced.”
