Unbuttoning Miss Hardwick (18 page)

‘Oof,’
a gentleman said. ‘Miss Hardwick? Are you quite all right?’

She tried to pull away, but found herself held tight. She stared wildly up—into the pleasant blue gaze of the Earl of Conover.

‘Yes. Good heavens.’ She struggled for composure. ‘Thank you, my lord. I was frightened, I thought I heard someone…’ She gestured over her shoulder into the main hall.

He smiled down at her and, setting her steadily on her feet, let her go. ‘Yes, the event is nearly over, it would seem. The servants are likely clearing up.’ He looked into her face. ‘Gracious, you really were frightened.’ His expression grew serious. ‘This matter with the Spear has put everyone in the antiquities community on edge, has it not?’

‘Yes, of course. That must be it.’ She couldn’t resist another glance behind her.

He took her hand and placed it on his arm. ‘You’re trembling! Come, I’ll take you downstairs.’

‘Thank you, but I am waiting for a friend.’ She pulled her hand away. ‘Lord Marland was looking for you, however. He was hoping for a word with you.’

‘As I was hoping for a word with you.’ A slight grin spread over his face as he sent an appraising glance travelling all about her form. ‘I admit, it is most interesting—and intriguing—to find a woman involved in a business like this.’ He watched her closely. ‘Tell me, if you wouldn’t mind—was there something specific about the Spear of Skanda that drew you here tonight?’

Chloe managed a chuckle. ‘Only Lord Marland’s emphatic desire to make the thing the centrepiece of his collection.’

‘Ah, yes. I had heard that you have managed his collection magnificently.’

She flushed a bit. ‘Thank you.’ She grinned up at him. ‘It’s all true, of course. Until now, that is. I’m afraid I’ve failed the marquess, regarding this particular weapon. The only certain facts I’ve heard at all have come tonight, from you.’

He gave her a mock frown. ‘And is that a note of doubt I detect?’ He dropped his tone to a near-whisper, requiring her to lean closer. ‘I assure you, Miss Hardwick, that I told only the truth tonight.’ He paused. ‘Though, perhaps not all of the truth.’ His gaze swept down her again, as if he were considering something. ‘Your reputation is such, I felt sure that you might have uncovered some further information regarding the piece. There are certain facts that I’m sure you would find interesting.’

In her eagerness she shifted nearer. ‘I’m sure I would, should you care to share.’

‘I think perhaps I do care,’ the earl mused. He shocked her then by taking her hand in his. ‘For example, had you heard that, throughout the ages, the Spear has been owned by a singularly large number of women?’

‘Truly?’ Chloe looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘Unusual, wouldn’t you think? Seeing as it is a weapon of war?’

Intent, he stepped closer, still holding her gaze. ‘Unusual, yes,’ he said low, ‘but understandable, when you consider—’

‘Hardwick?’ From the passage on the other side of the stairs, her name echoed. ‘Hardwick!’ The door to the retiring room opened and the marquess peered out. Chloe and the earl both turned in his direction.

‘There you are.’ He stepped out and crossed over to them, a black look sketching over his face. ‘And Conover. What are the two of you up to?’

The earl dropped her hand, and only then did Chloe realise how close they had been standing. Too close for true propriety, she suspected, but she felt certain that Conover had been on the verge of disclosing something important.

‘Up to?’ the earl echoed smoothly. ‘Why, nothing but what you might expect.’ His smile was for her. ‘More antiquities talk. You are very fortunate in your lovely young assistant, Marland.’

‘You do not have to tell me so, Conover,’ the marquess snapped. ‘And I know enough to understand that neither her youth nor her beauty have anything to do with it.’

His tone echoed harshly and Chloe noted that he did not correct the earl regarding her status. But then, she hadn’t either. ‘Where is the
signor
?’ she asked. ‘And how did you get in there? I’ve been here with an eye on the passage all along.’

‘There’s another exit,’ he explained tightly, still keeping an eye on Conover. ‘The
signor
went out that one and got confused. I found him wandering about downstairs, quite put out and looking for you.’

‘Oh, the poor dear! Where is he now?’

‘The evening tired him out,’ the marquess answered. ‘I didn’t like his colour, so I summoned the carriage.’

‘And I should do the same,’ the earl said. He bowed over Chloe’s hand. ‘Miss Hardwick, it has been a very great pleasure. I hope that we might continue our talk again, soon.’ He eyed the marquess. ‘Perhaps I might call on you?’

She smiled. ‘I would certainly enjoy hearing more, my lord. Good evening.’

With a nod to Lord Marland, he took his leave, whistling cheerfully as he headed down the stairs. Chloe looked to the marquess, excited to tell him the little she’d learned, but was surprised at the glare he sent in her direction.

‘The wily bastard,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I vow, he was avoiding me deliberately downstairs. And then to find him so cosily ensconced up here with you!’

She recoiled at the accusation in his tone. And then she began to grow angry herself. ‘Yes,’ she said coolly. ‘I do believe he sought me out deliberately.’

‘For what reason?’ he demanded. ‘So he could hold your hand and look deeply into your eyes?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps he sought me out because he enjoyed our earlier discussion. I rather thought he meant to tell me something important.’

‘Oh, I don’t doubt that for a moment,’ the marquess gritted out. The sarcasm in his tone infuriated her. ‘Perhaps the address of the house where he conducts his
affaires
?’

Chloe gasped.

‘I suppose he could have been trying to annoy me.’ He folded his arms, looking as belligerent as she’d ever seen him. ‘But, no, I dare say my first instinct was right. He just wanted a chance to get under your skirts.’

‘How
dare
you?’ She whirled away from him. Holding tight to the rail, she rushed down the steps.

He was right behind her. When she reached the bottom, he gripped her arm.

She pulled away. ‘The
signor
is waiting,’ she said icily. With her head held high, she sailed across the reception area toward the doors. Only a few stragglers were left down here. The earl was nowhere to be seen, but the portly, bald gentleman from upstairs sat at a deserted bar. He raised a glass in her direction. She
nodded in return.

Neither she nor Lord Marland spoke while a porter fetched her wrap. Chin elevated, she accepted the marquess’s help into it, then stepped on to the pavement and paused, confused. ‘I do not see your carriage.’

‘I told you, the
signor
did not look well. I sent him home.’ He indicated another vehicle. ‘I procured us a hack.’

Chloe climbed in and sat down, making herself as small as possible in the tiny space. The marquess took the other seat. The carriage jerked to a start and they rode in icy silence for several minutes.

Eventually, Lord Marland sighed. ‘I am sorry, Hardwick.’

Her chin went up again. ‘As well you should be. The earl behaved as a perfect gentleman. Our discussion was purely professional.’

He wasn’t looking at her, but staring at the darkness outside the window. ‘I don’t even know why I said such a thing.’

‘Nor do I,’ she said sharply, refusing to relent. ‘You have made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me as a woman. Yet the first time you take a notion that someone else might, you grow as cranky as a dog with a bone.’

He made no response. Bleakly, she realised it was because he could not refute the truth. Shocking, really, how much it hurt.

* * *

It had been a quick ride across Mayfair. She’d hardly had time to catch her breath before the carriage rolled to a stop. His hands were gentle as he helped her descend, but there was still a sense of raw emotion in the air between them.

The house was dark. Most of the household was likely in bed—she had been working them hard. And it was too early to expect the countess back from her social revels. It was an awkward, in-between time, she supposed. It felt fitting, somehow.

The marquess sent the hackney off, then fumbled with a key with surprising awkwardness. Chloe watched his shaking hand and decided to give way, just a little. Looking up, she sighed. ‘I miss the stars,’ she said, unthinking. ‘The night sky in London is just a darker version of the daytime haze.’

The door swung open. ‘There are stars aplenty in your hair, tonight.’ The low timbre of his voice echoed in the dark and vibrated deep in the pit of her belly. Uncertain, she turned and raised a shaking hand to her coiffure.

He stared, and heat began to rise inside, growing sweeter and deeper the longer his gaze roved over her. After a moment, he took her other hand and led her inside. One lone candle burned in a marble niche, but there was no one posted at the door.

They should go their separate ways now, she thought. She should head immediately for her bed. But instead, with unspoken accord, they both made their way to the front parlour.

He went immediately to resurrect the dying fire. Feeling perfectly wicked and equally determined, Chloe took a moment to close the door and lock it, before she sat. She waited.

And waited. A long time, indeed. The fire flared to life, but still the marquess crouched before it, staring into the flames as if looking for the answers to their dilemma.

She was patient. Yet the minutes ticked by. The tension in the room ratcheted higher. Coals faded and fell. And Chloe warred with herself. She hoped and despaired in turn. He was obviously conflicted. Or perhaps he’d just forgotten her.

She stood suddenly. She’d waited long enough. Her heart ached, but for one last time, she would make things easier for him.

‘I met the most interesting man tonight,’ Chloe said, striving for a casual tone. She would make her report on what she had learned and then she would retreat to her room to bind all the many painful wounds he had inflicted on her.

But it was if the sound of her voice catapulted him into action. ‘Don’t!’ he ordered, launching away from the fireplace. He shot her a pained look. ‘We are close to wrapping this up, one way or another, and I am damned grateful, for this is so much more difficult that I had anticipated.’

Chloe’s jaw hardened. She reconsidered, suddenly, her earlier, charitable notion. ‘What is difficult, Lord Marland?’

‘This!’ He glared at her and gestured between them. ‘You and me. My God, do you know what you have done to me? How tempting you are tonight?’ he demanded. ‘All I want to do is touch you. Every man in that room wanted to touch you, too, and if I had had a blade, I might have run them all through.’

She blinked in amazement. ‘I—’

‘No.’ Despair thickened his voice. ‘I know you are not mine. I know it in my heart and in my mind and down to my very core, but I don’t give a damn. I have to fight to keep myself from pushing you up against a wall and running my hands all over you.’ He heaved a great sigh and fastened his gaze on her coiffure. ‘I’ve dreamt all night of plucking those shining bits of light from your hair and losing myself in the midnight shadows of it.’

Triumph bloomed in Chloe’s chest, along with a great tidal sweep of desire. She stood, staring at the marquess, taking in his enormous strength, drinking in his glorious height and width. She caught sight of her reflection in the window behind him. Her earrings winked at her from just beyond his broad shoulders. Her breath caught and her fingers flew to touch one—and she knew suddenly that she was a warrior, too.

‘Then why don’t you?’ she asked softly.

‘Because I cannot!’ he said harshly. ‘I will not—not when there can be no future in it.’ He gave her a scathing glance. ‘Do you think I want to hear of the men you met tonight? You met scores of them and every man-jack one of them had the sense to find you more than
interesting
.’ He barked a short, ironic laugh. ‘They’ve barely scratched your surface and they instantly recognised your incredible value.’ He dropped his gaze. ‘They made me feel like a fool.’

Her heart softened. ‘You are not a fool.’

‘I feel like one.’ In a blur of motion he turned suddenly and slammed his fist into the wall. ‘We are both fools, Hardwick! What are we doing? Why do we torture ourselves? This ground has been covered. You won’t go back and I cannot move forwards. So where does that leave us?’

She went to him and laid her hands on his strong, solid arm. ‘Here,’ she answered. ‘It leaves us right here.’

‘I don’t know where “here” is.’ His tone was flat.

‘I don’t either. But I know what I want it to be.’ She leaned her head against him. ‘I only know…that I don’t want to live in fear any more. For too long I’ve feared the hurt that lives in my past. For the past weeks I have been recoiling from the pain that might lie in my future.’ She shook her head and frowned at him. ‘But tonight, it struck me anyway.’

He made a sound of denial, but she cut him off. ‘Do you understand how horribly difficult you are? My feelings for you are not simple or even pretty. They come with burdens, too. And the worst one is fear.’ She swallowed. ‘When I left Denning, I vowed I would stop hiding. I promised myself I would leave fear behind—and here you are, with a great bundle of it attached.’

She drew a deep breath. ‘Good God, do you understand that every significant person in my life has found a new and painful way to leave me behind? I’m only just beginning to understand how it has warped me. Look at the way I twisted myself at Denning—I created a shell of a person to hide behind. It took a long time to realise that I might be safe behind there, but I was still alone. And being lonely is just as painful as being left.’

Mute, he shook his head.

‘I know you don’t agree. But I am speaking for me.’ She stiffened her spine. ‘I left because I didn’t want to live without at least the chance for happiness, adventure, contentment and love.’ She glanced down at her hands. Breathing deeply, she gathered strength. When she looked back at him, she allowed the ring of conviction to colour her words. ‘I care for you. I know you don’t wish to hear it, but I do. And I am not going to hide from it. I know that nothing about this is going to be easy. I know there are enormous risks. But if I have to choose between a chance for happiness and pain or continued loneliness and pain, then I’m going to take the chance at happiness.’