Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

Her heart skittered as he extended his hand to her. Why was she acting such the fool around him? He was treating her exactly as he always had—since they were children, in fact—yet everything seemed to hold a different meaning. She was reacting to him as though he hadn’t spent the first decade of their acquaintance driving her mad.

When she didn’t move, he gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You’d be amazed what you’ll miss when your only companions are a few hundred under-washed, stir crazy soldiers.”

Resolutely, she shoved aside the strange feelings, and accepted his proffered hand. “Yes, well, I suppose I may have missed you as well. You do serve as quite the magnet for Uncle Robert’s temper, which I inadvertently benefit from. At the very least, I’m glad you didn’t get yourself killed on some Godforsaken battlefield.”

“Careful cousin—a man can begin to think you actually care for him, with such gushing concern.” He winked before tugging her into an easy, one-armed embrace. The hard wall of muscled side was a far, far cry from the slim, lanky build she always associated with him. With his free hand, he gripped her chin in a firm hold and planted a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

To her shock, heat seared her skin, and she had to force herself to breathe normally. Still, she did exactly what she always had, making a show of scrubbing at her cheek with her sleeve, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Ugh—must you insist on accosting me?”

Her tone was as light as always, his expression every bit as teasing. It was a scene they had engaged in for years. So why, oh why did she feel as though she was meeting him for the first time?

“Off you go, Ellie. No sense risking trouble merely to bask in the glory of my company a few moments longer.”

She’d do very well to remember that.





Chapter Four





WHEN NICK HAD PUSHED HIMSELF in his bid to make it home as soon as possible, it most certainly was not so he could find himself stuck in the midst of a house party. Yet, as he scanned the twenty or so guests mingling beneath the glittering chandeliers of the Manor’s impressive drawing room, he resigned himself to exactly that fate.

He cut his gaze to where Eleanor stood beside Malcolm, a smile fixed on her full lips as she greeted Lord Netherby. The man had gained at least two stone since the last time Nick had seen him, though apparently he was still attempting to fit into the same clothes. His expression was that of one inspecting a horse at Tattersall’s as his eyes freely roamed Eleanor’s figure.

Lecherous old codger. Would it be bad form to grab the man by his too-small jacket and toss him out on his ear? It didn’t help that Eleanor had changed into a perfectly fitted white and turquoise gown that suited her coloring just so. Never mind the other young women peppering the room—she stood out as the Incomparable she was.

She could have easily taken the ton by storm, had she decided to do so. Though he hated how she had come about her feelings on matrimony, he was glad for them nonetheless. It was the only thing that kept the jealousy at bay as she turned to greet yet another male guest.

In contrast to her polite but distant facade, Malcolm was thoroughly enjoying himself. Every time he moved on to another guest, he guided Eleanor around like a dog on a lead, his hand firmly grasping her upper arm.

Nick took a sip of wine, continuing his surveillance over the rim of the glass. His stepfather’s domineering ways didn’t surprise him, but Eleanor’s continued passivity did. She hardly looked like the same person he had met at the ruins earlier. In the morning gloom, she had stood straight, tall, and proud. He hated seeing her inner light squelched by Malcolm now. For a moment he considered intervening, but it would probably only serve to annoy her.

“Nicky, darling,” his mother said from behind him, “I must introduce you to Miss Landon.”

Suppressing a sigh, he turned and nodded to his mother. She was arm in arm with a pretty young blonde girl who smiled up at him with a shy smile.

“Miss Landon, allow me to introduce to you my son, Mr. Nicolas Norton. He is an officer in the militia, and he has only just returned yesterday after an extended absence. We are so thrilled to have him home safe.”

Nick bowed as the girl curtsied. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Landon.”

A delicate pink blush touched the apples of her cheeks. “We’ve met before, Mr. Norton, though I doubt you would remember it. I was but a girl, and you were home from Cambridge for a few weeks.”

She looked to be ‘but a girl’ still, with rounded freckled cheeks and wide blue eyes. Though he would have sworn he didn’t know her from Eve, he smiled politely and said, “Well, it is good to see you all grown up.”

Mother patted her arm. “I had forgotten all about that. You’ve some catching up to do, then. Why don’t the two of you talk—I see Lord Henry is in want of conversation.” With a none-too-subtle wink at Nick, she floated away, waving her fingers at the widowed earl.