A Visit From Sir Nicholas (24 page)

He drew his lips from hers and trailed kisses along the line of her jaw. His voice was low and labored.

"We really should return to the others."

"Someone will certainly miss us otherwise." She gasped and tilted her head, concerned with nothing more than the feel of his lips on her neck. "But you wished to show me something."

"The mistletoe," he murmured against her skin.

She glanced upward, his lips drifting to the base of her throat, and she moaned. "I… I see no mistletoe."

"No? My mistake." His one hand was still wrapped around her waist. "And my apologies." His other hand skimmed her side, then lightly cupped her breast. Her nipple tightened beneath the layers of silk and corset.

She gasped. "Accepted."

He ran his mouth along the curve of her neck and nibbled on her shoulder, which was left exposed by the low cut of her fashionable gown, and she sent a quick prayer heavenward in thanks for the dictates of fashion.

"Do I take this to mean that you have given my proposal due consideration?" Not that she cared at this particular moment.

"I have thought of very little else." His fingers toyed with the neckline of her bodice. She sucked in a sharp breath. "What of my conditions?"

"We shall discuss them later."

"Very well." She wanted nothing more than to melt into a small, hot puddle at his feet and pull him down with her. "I should wish to add fidelity."

"Fidelity, yes." His lips replaced his fingers, and she thought she would surely die of sheer sensation at any moment.

"I would prefer that we remain discreet as well." She could barely get the words out. "I should hate to ruin my reputation."

"I wouldn't mind at all if you ruined my reputation," he murmured.

"And honesty." Even through the layers of her skirt and crinolines she could feel his arousal, and she pressed herself hard against him. "I should like honesty between us."

"Honesty… yes… very good… without a doubt."

"Nicholas, could we not… here… now?"

He stilled against her and drew a deep, shuddering breath. "No."

"No?" Her voice rose. "Why not?"

He raised his head and looked at her. His voice was wry. "I shall not allow you to have your way with me here. As if I were a common tart."

"But I've always liked tarts," she said without thinking. "Jam tarts and fruit tarts and—" She stared at him.

"And toffee and plum pudding as well."

He snorted.

She grinned. A moment later laughter bubbled through her. He joined her and pulled her close against him once again.

Nicholas rested his chin on the top of her head and blew a long breath. "What are we going to do about that craving for sweets of yours?"

"Indulge," she said with a sigh and reluctantly pushed out of his arms. He chuckled. "I've always been fond of indulgences."

"And ships as well." She smoothed her skirts, patted her hair, and struggled to return her breathing to a semblance of normal. Although she suspected that with Nicholas around, her breathing, and everything else, would rarely be normal again.

"Ships are simply an indulgence on a grander scale." He laughed, took her elbow, and started toward the door.

The last thing Elizabeth wanted right now was to return to the others and pretend nothing whatsoever had just happened between them. Pretend there was not this aching need building inside her to have this man in her bed. Regardless, it could not be helped. In spite of the desire triggered by his kiss, Nicholas was right. Again. This was not the proper place or time to consummate their bargain. She had waited ten years for this man, she could certainly wait a few hours more. Surely, when he escorted her home after dinner…

"Tell me, Sir Nicholas, did we just reach an accord as to our arrangement."

"Absolutely not, Lady Langley." He grinned down at her. "Absolutely not."

"In many ways I think Scrooge was nothing more than an astute businessman," Jonathon said in an idle manner. He glanced across the table at Nick, and a wicked spark shone in his eye.

"Lord Helmsley, how can you possibly say such a thing?" The debutante sitting beside Jonathon gasped in shocked dismay. She was pleasant enough in a very young, very sweet, very naive way, and for the life of him, Nick could not remember her name.

Juliana, seated next to Nick, turned away from an animated discussion with her husband and another guest, a gleam similar to her brother's in her eye. "His lordship says something along the very same lines every year as Christmas approaches." Anticipation sounded in her voice. "Usually when he judges the dinner conversation at his end of the table to be not as amusing as he thinks it should." Jonathon chuckled and took a sip of his wine.

"Still, it is, as always, an interesting question." Elizabeth studied Nick from her place beside her brother.

"What do you think, Sir Nicholas?"

Nick chose his words with care. "I think Scrooge was extraordinarily lucky."

"Really?" Elizabeth studied him. "Why?"

"He had the opportunity few of us do in this life," Nick said thoughtfully. "To make amends for his mistakes. For a second chance at happiness, as it were."

"Very good," Jonathon murmured.

"How lovely." Miss Sweet Young Debutante sighed.

"Yet he could have simply avoided his mistakes in the first place," Juliana said pointedly.

"Indeed he could have, but how many of us do? I know of any number of people, myself included, who have made serious mistakes in judgment in their youth. Mistakes that have affected their entire lives." His gaze met Elizabeth's. "Even if the reasons behind their actions seemed at that particular point in time to be not only wise but indeed noble."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Noble?"

"Sometimes it's necessary to sacrifice one's own desires in the best interest of someone else."

"I don't think Scrooge sacrificed anything in the best interest of anyone else. I think his only concern was his own interests." Juliana shook her head firmly. "He gave up Belle, the one love of his life if one reads beyond Mr. Dickens's words, for the sake of his own pursuits and nothing more than that."

"Although, according to the story," Nick said smoothly, "it could well be argued he gave her up because, however right or wrong he may have been in the matter, he did not feel he was financially able to wed. Many consider that position wise in this day and age. If you look at it that way, sacrificing his own desires for her welfare," he shrugged, "could indeed be viewed as noble."

"Rubbish." Juliana huffed. "He sacrificed her for the sake of his own ambition."

"Ambition is a demanding mistress," Nick said in an offhand manner.

"Even so." Elizabeth leaned forward slightly. "Couldn't he have pursued his ambition without losing his soul?"

"Did he lose his soul, I wonder?" Jonathon said.

"Yes, I think he did." Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "In spite of his success in business, he was not a happy man. Mr. Dickens makes that perfectly clear. Scrooge did not even indulge"—a blush warmed her cheeks at the word, and Nicholas bit back a grin—"himself with his wealth. His supper on Christmas Eve was taken in a tavern followed by gruel before a meager fire. His rooms were cheap and shabby, his furnishings mean and sparse."

"Surely you're not saying happiness can be purchased?" Jonathon raised a brow.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course she isn't," Juliana scoffed. "But comfort can, and it's far easier to be happy it one is comrortable than it one is miserable."

"Still, that's not the point of it." Elizabeth thought for a moment. "What he had or didn't have or the manner in which he spent, or rather hoarded, his money, his material assets as such are not significant. Why, the Cratchits had nothing yet were obviously happy in spite of their poverty."

"Poor, dear, dear Tiny Tim." Miss Sweet Young Debutante sighed.

"The point is," Elizabeth continued, "that there was no joy in Scrooge's life. He was alone. He had no family save his nephew, and he was not overly cordial to him, no friends, indeed no one to mourn at his passing. I think a man like Scrooge, completely alone, with no affection, has no joy. No raison d'etre, as it were. So yes," Elizabeth settled back in her chair, "I do think he lost his soul. Or more accurately, tossed it away."

"And the ghosts of Christmas returned it to him," Juliana said firmly. "Or rather gave him the opportunity to reclaim it by understanding and accepting the true meaning and spirit of Christmas. Generosity towards others being paramount."

"Generosity not simply of material goods," Elizabeth added. "Not only sending the prize turkey to the Cratchits or raising Mr. Cratchits's salary, but a generosity of spirit. Opening his heart. Keeping Christmas all year long. And in that regained his soul."

"Excellent, Lizzie." Jonathon grinned.

"Very good," Nick murmured.

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of Elizabeth's mouth. Her gaze met his and lingered, and there was far more than simple triumph in her eyes. There was a distinct invitation and a definite promise. It was all Nick could do to keep from leaping to his feet and reaching across the table to take her in his arms. Drag her onto the table and press his lips to hers, mold her body against his. Sweep aside the candles and crystal and food-laden plates to feel the satin heat of her skin against his and the thud of her heart against his own. Tear the clothes from her body and make her his own here and now in the midst of poached fish and roasted meat. Lick the wines splashed across her hard, delicate nipples and savor the sauces spilled upon—

"What of you, Sir Nicholas?"

Nick started. "What?"

"I was asking if you have celebrated Christmas these past ten years?" Juliana said.

"Christmas?" Nick said slowly.

Christmas was the last thing on his mind at this particular moment, although the idea of sugarplums and toffee and tarts and other Christmas treats was tempting. He drew a calming breath and glanced at Elizabeth. An altogether too knowing look sparked in her eyes. She couldn't possibly know what he had been thinking, could she?

He forced a pleasant smile. "It seems the height of sacrilege to admit it among this festive assembly, but I have not particularly celebrated Christmas at all. I confess it has often been simply another day for me."

"Just like Scrooge," Miss Sweet Young Debutante murmured.

"And what of your employees?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Is it simply another day for them too?"

"No, my lady, it is not." Nick met her gaze with the solid, resolute stare that had made grown men quiver and immediately reconsider their positions. He was oddly pleased that she didn't so much as twitch.

"Only those men in my employ whose jobs require a continuous presence work on Christmas Day, and they are compensated extremely well. Each and every employee receives a bonus at Christmas as well. A practice, I might add, that is not widespread among employers, but I have found that workers who are well treated are more productive and are extremely loyal. In many ways, they are my responsibility, a sort of family, if you will. I consider them such and treat them accordingly.

"Furthermore, I have certain moral standards I adhere to. I do not permit the hiring of children. The widow of any man killed while in my employ receives a substantial pension. And I donate generously to charities here and in America." He turned toward Miss Sweet Young Debutante. "So you see, my dear, there is really little comparison between myself and Scrooge."

Miss Sweet Young Debutante's eyes widened. "But he didn't mark Christmas in any way, and neither do you."

Juliana snorted.

"I have marked it in benefits to my employees and goodwill toward those less fortunate. As for myself, I have not celebrated in the past, but I anticipate that will change now that I have returned home." Nick glanced around the table. "Christmas is a time to gather with family and friends, and it is at this time of year that being apart from them is especially difficult. My only real family is my uncle, and he resides here in London, as do those I count as friends. And I confess, I do regret the long years spent away."

"You had no friends in America?" Juliana studied him curiously.

"I had any number of acquaintances, primarily of a business nature. But those I consider true friends have always been here." He chuckled wryly. "Most in this very room."

"And what of women, Sir Nicholas?" Juliana said. "You have not married?" Elizabeth smiled politely. He wouldn't be at all surprised if the sisters were in league with one another. Indeed, Juliana's questions might well be retaliation for letting Elizabeth think, if only for a moment, that there was something beyond friendship between Teddy and himself. Not that he had actually done that, of course, but he perhaps hadn't discouraged that impression quickly enough. Jonathon raised a brow. "Which has to do with Scrooge, the topic of discussion, in what manner?"

"You have obviously failed to notice, Jonathon, but we've long since exhausted discussions of a literary nature and have proceeded to far more interesting things." Juliana shot her brother a quelling glance. If Nick didn't know better, he would swear they were all children again. She cast Nick a brilliant smile.

"We have turned to Sir Nicholas."

Nick laughed. "Am I more interesting then than Mr. Dickens's characters?"

"Oh, infinitely." Juliana nodded. "One knows nearly everything about the characters in a book, at least by the final page. But in reality, it's difficult, if not impossible, to know everything about anyone. Particularly when they don't answer your questions."

"Perhaps they do not answer because those questions are overly personal," Jonathon said mildly. Juliana ignored her brother. "Now, then, Sir Nicholas, are you going to answer mine?"

"It is good to know the years have not diminished your forthright nature." Nick chuckled. "Very well then, no, I have never married. And to forestall your next question as to why, I really cannot say."

"You are obviously financially able to wed," Juliana pressed. "So the reason you proffered for Scrooge does not hold true for you."