The Marquess Who Loved Me

Chapter THIRTY-THREE


Ellie awoke to the smell of ham and the sound of a beverage being poured. She was sprawled on her stomach and had slept more deeply than she had in days — but food never failed to awaken her.

“How late is it, Lucia?” she mumbled into her pillow, not turning over.

“It’s just after nine.”

Nick. She flipped herself upright, pushed her hair out of her face — and heard the soft chime of bells all around her as she realized she was still in his bed. “What are you doing?”

“Do you care for toast? I will toast it for you.”

He was sitting in his armchair, fully dressed, in a suit that was a better match for a London rake than a sleepy country lord. But there was nothing sleepy about him today. His eyes were sharp, and they missed nothing as they looked her over. She winced. Her hair would look like a nest of brambles. She pulled the sheets up around herself, covering everything she should cover — but still, she felt suddenly shy.

Nick had never seen her wake up in the morning. No one had, save Lucia and her other maids.

She tried to contain her hair, but she couldn’t without dropping the sheets. Nick coughed. “Toast?” he asked again.

He held a toasting fork. It was so odd to see him doing something domestic that she laughed. “Trying to keep me well-fed, my lord?”

He grinned. “Unless you prefer to be put through your paces first.”

She did, but she was too curious about why he was there to distract him. “Toast first, if you please.”

He nodded. But before he put the bread on the toasting fork, he stood and brought her a cup. “I thought this would awaken you.”

He had brought her chocolate. She took it from his hand, letting her fingers graze on his as she reached for the handle. “Is Lucia feeling better? You don’t have…bad news about her, do you?”

“She will be fine, but Marcus ordered her to take at least a fortnight off. You can ring for another maid later. We need to talk, Ellie.”

She didn’t like the tone of his voice. It was too serious, as though he dreaded whatever he needed to say. She sipped her chocolate, pretending she’d heard nothing to warn her. When she thought she could sound innocent, she said, “What do we need to talk about?”

He jammed a slice of bread onto the toasting fork, thrust it toward the fire, and scowled. Then, he said, “You’re not going to like it. I thought I would do this without telling you, but you deserve better than that. And anyway, I need your help.”

She frowned. “Can you be more direct, please?”

He snorted. “My little field marshal. I’m sorry to interrupt your morning like this, but I believe I know who wants to kill me.”

She nearly shrieked. “You are wasting time with my toast when you know something that important?”

“I thought you liked toast,” he said.

He wasn’t teasing. He looked down at the toasting fork as though it had betrayed him. Ellie sighed. “I adore toast, and I thank you for it. But isn’t the killer slightly more important?”

Nick turned the toasting fork over the fire. “Of course. But if your guests stay true to their usual schedules, I have an hour before I must begin my efforts to eliminate him. There is time enough to make you toast.”

“‘Eliminate’ sounds dire.”

“Not as dire as what I would have done if he had harmed you,” Nick said. “But you aren’t going to like the person I am about to name.”

She thought back over the past four days. And she knew, suddenly, that she was about to be disappointed, not shocked. But she put a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “It’s not me, is it?”

Nick laughed. “Would that it was. I’m sure I could find a satisfying way to punish you.”

“Shall I confess, then?”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not you. But I believe your friend Norbury is involved.”

“Norbury.” Ellie sighed. “Are you sure?”

“You don’t sound as upset as I expected.”

She sipped her chocolate again, considering. “I’m more sad than upset, I think. Norbury is a decent man. He’s never been anything but kind to his wife, despite her ailments, and he is generally well-liked.”

“Then why are you not more surprised?”

“He was very odd about your return — he even warned me about you yesterday. I didn’t think much of it since I knew he wasn’t the highwayman. I would have recognized his voice if he had been the one who waylaid us. But perhaps he’s involved in a way I didn’t expect.”

Nick slid her toast off the fork and brought her a tray with the toast, ham, and a soft-boiled egg. She sat up higher, crossing her legs under her like a child and tucking the sheets around her so that they wouldn’t fall. “I haven’t had breakfast in bed in an age,” she said as she pulled the tray closer. “Your revenge shall spoil me.”

“I hope so.” He sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out to steady the tray so that it didn’t tilt toward him as he settled into the mattress. “I think you could do with a bit of spoiling.”

No one had ever spoiled her — no lovers, no family members, and certainly not her father. But she wouldn’t waste a bright morning, fresh toast, and the man at her side on dead memories. She smiled at Nick. “If you thought toast would buy my loyalty, you have succeeded. Whatever happens with Norbury, you have my blessing.”

“As easy as that? I will hire a servant just to make you toast if that’s all I must do to win you.”

She laughed. But as she knocked the top off her egg, she suddenly realized her eyes were filling with tears. There was something welling up within her that she didn’t recognize and couldn’t identify. How could toast make her so maudlin?

She reached up to wipe her eyes, but Nick caught her hand. “Look at me,” he said softly.

She didn’t want to, but he reached out to touch her cheek and tip her toward him. The tears spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks. “I don’t know what has happened to me,” she said, picking up her napkin. “Toast has never made me cry before.”

He released her. She turned away and dabbed at her eyes. But then he edged closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “You can be upset with Norbury, you know. You can even be upset with me. I didn’t want to ruin your morning, but you deserve the truth.”

She turned her head into his chest. She didn’t sob, but it was a close thing — her breath hitched in, and she felt something that could have been a scream inside her throat if she hadn’t swallowed it again. When she could trust her voice, she whispered, “I trusted him. Why is it always the ones I trust who betray me?”

Nick kissed her head. “Norbury could be innocent of all of this. My evidence is mostly circumstantial — all related to his investments, and his friendship with you.”

She hoped Norbury was innocent. But she understood Nick’s suspicions. “He asked whether you were a good man yesterday — almost like he needed to know. He must know something.”

“I will find out,” Nick said, squeezing her shoulders. “Now, eat your breakfast.”

She pulled away from him. “What are you going to do to Norbury?”

“Wait for him in the breakfast room. I don’t want to arouse his suspicions by summoning him. But once he’s in the breakfast room, I’ll make sure he answers my questions.”

“You said you needed my help. What do you want me to do?”

He nodded at her tray. “I want you to eat, and then enjoy a leisurely morning as far from the breakfast room as possible. I’ve asked my batman to loiter in this wing of the house to make sure you’re safe.”

Ellie frowned. “But I know Norbury better than anyone. Surely he will talk to me.”

“I thought of that. But then I thought of him injuring you, or taking you as a hostage, and it made me so angry that I nearly cut my own throat while shaving.”

“If only I’d known I could make you angry enough to do that — I could have escaped days ago.”

He stroked her thigh through the coverlet. “No escape, my love. Just promise you will stay safely upstairs until I tell you we are done.”

She could escape — Nick had made that possible the previous night, even though she hadn’t wanted him to. But she nodded. “I will stay away. But you will tell me every detail of what happens. And if you aren’t forthcoming, I shall ‘worship’ you again until you break.”

His lips quirked, giving the lie to his attempt at severity. “You won’t break me, but you are welcome to try. Now, my lady, if you will excuse me, I must go set my trap.”

He sounded formal. But the way he pulled her toward him, the way he claimed her mouth, was more feudal than civilized. His lips seared against hers. He pulled away too soon, but she tugged him back and kissed him again, slower, melting for him. When she finally let him go, her lips were swollen and his eyes were fierce.

“I’m not going to die, Ellie,” he said.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think of that possibility, but she recognized the way it hummed nervously beneath her other thoughts. She tried, transparently, to lighten the mood. “If you do die, I hope Marcus knows I’m clear of my debt to you.”

Nick grinned. “I will tell Marcus. If he tries to collect from you the same way I did, you have my permission to gut him.”

“Two Claibornes dead on the same day? Dreams do come true, don’t they?”

He tweaked her nose. “Do not worry. I order you not to.”

She made a show of turning back to her breakfast as though he was already dismissed. When he didn’t move off the bed, she turned back to him. “Is there anything else, my lord?”

He focused on her face as though memorizing it. Then he pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and stood up. “Enjoy your toast. Perhaps, when this is all done, we can see whether we can be real for each other.”

He was gone before she could speak again.