Bedding Lord Ned (Duchess of Love 1) Page 15

  Ah, perhaps he’d admit now that it had been a little overwhelming, but he’d been happy to take care of her. He’d loved her, and she’d needed him. He’d protected her.

  Except at the end.

  He dug his fingers into his forehead. God, he’d never forget Cicely’s eyes when she’d been taken to bed with the baby. They’d been so full of pain and fear, silently pleading with him to help her, to make it all go away. And he hadn’t been able to do that. He’d watched her suffer, watched the blood—

  He was going to drill his fingers into his brain.

  Sometimes he even wished he’d been a coward and done as the accoucheur and the midwife had suggested. They’d wanted him to leave Cicely with them, to go wait outside like a proper, well-behaved husband. Even Cicely’s mother, once it was clear things were hopeless, had left. But not Ned.

  He couldn’t leave Cicely to face all that alone. He might not have been able to help her, but at least he’d been there to witness her suffering and maybe, perhaps, he hoped, give her a little comfort.

  But, damn it, sledding was not childbirth, as he’d told Ellie. There wasn’t anything necessary about it. To risk death, or at least serious injury, for something so silly and ephemeral as a slide down a hill was madness.

  He speared a bit of kidney and brought it to his lips.

  Yes, he’d gone sledding at Christmastime, but that was different. He was a man. Well, and he was in control of the sledge. If Ellie were barreling down the hill, he’d have to watch as helpless to save her as he’d been in his nightmare last night—as he’d been with Cicely and the baby.

  All he wanted was to keep Ellie safe. What was so wrong about that?

  He put the kidney down untasted and closed his eyes, rubbing the spot between his brows. He might as well resign himself to suffering a constant headache during this hellish gathering.

  Damn it, what was the matter with him? He’d been completely unlike himself ever since he’d arrived at this damn party. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to take a second wife.

  “Good morning, Ned. Looks like a beautiful day for skating—and sledding.”

  Jack was standing in the doorway, grinning. “Blast it, Jack, you’re not going to urge Ellie to sled, are you?”

  Jack dropped down into the seat next to him. “I think Ellie will make up her own mind. Say, are you going to eat that food?”

  “No. Help yourself.” Ned pushed the plate over to his brother.

  “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” Jack dug into the blood pudding with revolting gusto. “Aren’t you hungry?” he asked around a mouthful.

  “No.”

  “Shame. One of the things I most like about coming back to the castle is the meals.”

  “I would think you’d have more variety in London.”

  Jack shrugged. “Perhaps, but I like Cook’s simple, hearty fare.” He grinned. “And there’s always lots of it.”

  Jack had demolished the blood pudding and was now making serious inroads into the kidneys.

  Ned felt slightly ill. “I can see where quantity might be important to you.”

  “You used to be quite a good trencherman yourself, Ned. Want that coffee?”

  “No.” He passed the cup over. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

  Jack took a sip. “It’s not too bad.” He turned his attention to the ham.

  Ned wished he could be as carefree as Jack. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to worry about everything. He put his napkin over the spot where he’d spilled his coffee and watched Jack chew.

  Was Ellie in love with Jack? And, perhaps more importantly, was Jack in love with Ellie?

  When he’d arrived at the castle, Jack had seemed very definite that he did not want to wed, but perhaps that was simply because of Miss Wharton. But if Jack did love Ellie, he could easily escape Miss Wharton’s pursuit by announcing the fact. Mama and Father would be delighted.

  As far as Ned could tell—not that he was an expert—Jack did not look the least bit in love; he’d even been clowning about it during charades.

  Damn, Cox must be wrong. And thinking of that bounder ...

  “Do Cox and Lady Juliet know each other well, Jack? I suppose they must, having spent time in London.”

  Jack popped the last bite of ham into his mouth. “Oh, their connection goes back further than London. Their fathers’ principal seats adjoin, so they’ve grown up together.” He looked at Ned. “Rather like you and Ellie.”

  “And you and Ash and Jess and Cicely and Percy.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Jack grinned. “But more like you and Ellie.”

  Damn it, Jack was playing games again. Best to ignore him. “And are Cox and Lady Juliet especially, er, friendly?”

  Jack got up to get more food. The man must have a hollow leg. “Very. Rumor is Cox asked for Lady Juliet’s hand, but her father refused. Some say Extley didn’t think Cox was good enough for his precious little chick, but others think Extley and Bollant had a falling out of some sort, perhaps a boundary dispute, and that’s why he wouldn’t give his consent.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” He should feel angry or ... something other than this detached, almost academic interest. “And Cox and Lady Juliet accepted Extley’s decision?”

  “Lady Juliet did.” Jack looked over his shoulder and raised his brow. “She’s angling to be your wife, isn’t she?”

  Ned glared back at him. “But Cox didn’t?”

  Jack shrugged as he piled his plate with food. “He doesn’t have much choice, does he, if Lady Juliet is not prepared to defy her father for him.” He paused. “Hey, you missed the beef tongue. Did you know?”

  “I saw it. I’m not partial to tongue.”

  “No? Well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.” Jack came back, sat down, and set to eating again.

  Was Lady Juliet content with her father’s decision? Ned wasn’t so certain. More to the point, he’d wager Cox was not giving up, and if the blackguard was still pursuing Lady Juliet, he shouldn’t be courting Ellie.

  Ned grabbed a cup and poured himself some more coffee, taking a cautious sip first this time. He would just have to keep a very close eye on the scoundrel.

  Chapter 11

  A new gown can definitely raise one’s spirits.

  —Venus’s Love Notes

  “Playing hide and seek, Ellie?”

  “Of course not.” Damn it, this was very awkward. What believable explanation could she give for being in the wall?

  There was no believable explanation. She would simply have to smile and babble.

  “I just remembered the secret doors and wanted to see if I could open one. And then I went into the little room and got stuck.” That was true, though what had trapped her had been Percy and the women, not the door’s latch. Why she’d go inside and close the door; why she’d stay inside when help was just a shout—hardly a shout, even—and a knock away ...

  She simply could not worry about making sense.

  He raised one eyebrow, disbelief writ large on his face, but she forced herself to keep smiling.

  “One might think you were spying on me,” he finally said.

  That was funny. “I can assure you, Percy, that I have much better things to do with my time than hide in the long gallery walls, hoping you’ll come along and say something interesting.”

  He didn’t laugh in return. “You must have heard our conversation. As I remember, sound travels quite well through those thin hidden doors.”

  “Um.” Hell, she couldn’t think of a single convincing lie, not that any of her lies were convincing. Percy had grown up with her; he knew she was a dismal prevaricator. “I wasn’t, er, paying that much attention, actually. I’ve discovered I don’t much care for confined spaces.”

  “Oh? Then I would have thought you’d have pounded on the wall and yelled for help.”

  “Well, I might have, except I didn’t want to embarrass myself, especially in front of Lady Heldon, who I must say I can’t qui
te like. And, yes, I did hear her voice, so I knew she was there.” Gad, she was beginning to sound like Mr. Humphrey. Well, if a flood of words would get her free of Percy, she’d produce a deluge. “I thought you’d think I was listening in, which of course I wasn’t, and since I was certain you’d move on at any moment, I decided to wait—and, yes, pray a bit, too—until I could emerge alone. I will tell you I was very happy when you finally did leave.” She swallowed. “Except obviously you didn’t.”

  Percy’s eyes narrowed. He looked quite threatening.

  This was ridiculous. Percy might be unpleasant, but he wasn’t dangerous, and she was in Greycliffe Castle, not some dark London alley.

  “Well, I’m sure I wasted quite a bit of time in that silly hiding place, and I must look a sight. It was very small and dusty. I hope I don’t have any spiders crawling in my hair.” She shuddered theatrically. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be off to tidy—”

  Percy’s hand darted out, and he plucked the green and yellow reticule out of her fingers. “What have we here?”

  Her heart froze. Dear God! Why hadn’t she dropped the damn thing when she’d been trapped in the dark? “A-a reticule.”

  “I know that.” He jerked the strings open and pulled out the blasted silk drawers. He gave a long, low whistle. “Yours?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” It wasn’t a lie if she told herself he was asking about the reticule. “You know how Reggie likes to steal things.”

  “He usually brings them to Ned.”

  “And Ned brought these to me so I might return them.” That was true, too, in a way.

  “Really? So you know whom they belong to?”

  “N-no.” Pray God she didn’t look too guilty. And she didn’t know who owned the reticule. She must keep that firmly in mind.

  “Yesterday the duchess put the items Reggie had snaffled on a table in the yellow salon. That seemed to work perfectly well. Why do you suppose Ned brought these things to you?”

  She forced herself to shrug. “I have no idea—I’m not a mind reader. You’ll have to ask him.” Ned wouldn’t betray her—at least, she didn’t think he would. Especially not to Percy. He liked his brother-in-law even less than she did, which at the moment was rather a challenge.

  “Hmm.” Percy looked from the red drawers to her long-sleeved, high-necked, drab-colored gown. “It’s rather, ah, stimulating to think of you wearing these”—he held up the drawers—“under that depressing dress.”

  Her stomach twisted with unease. “Don’t be insulting.”

  “Do you have a pair on now?” There was a nasty, hot look in his eyes.

  “Of course not.” While she’d never liked Percy very much, she’d never been afraid of him. Now she’d admit to feeling more than a little on edge. “I don’t know why you think those scandalous things are mine.” She held out her hand. “Now give them—and the reticule—back to me, if you please, so I can be on my way.”

  Percy slipped his fingers back and forth over the silk. “No. You may have the purse, but I think I’ll keep these.”

  “Suit yourself.” Ellie took the reticule. She wanted to snatch the drawers as well, but she had enough presence of mind to realize how odd that would look. “I can’t imagine why you would want them.” She made herself smile. “I doubt they’ll fit you.”

  “Very funny. They are a form of insurance, of course.”

  “Insurance? In case all your undergarments suddenly go missing?”

  “No.” He almost snarled at her. “In case you remember any of the conversation you profess not to have heard and think you should discuss it with anyone. I should be extremely unhappy if that should occur. So unhappy I might be provoked to show Cox and Humphrey and maybe even the duchess these lovely red drawers ... that you left in my room after a romantic interlude.”

  Thank God she hadn’t yet eaten anything this morning; her stomach attempted to turn itself inside out. “That I left in your room after a ... a ...” She swallowed firmly. “No one would believe such an incredible tale.”

  He dangled the drawers in front of her, yet safely out of her reach. “But I have proof.”

  “I don’t know why you think anyone would believe those are mine. They are far more likely to suspect they belong to Ophelia.” She raised her brows. “And I would think Ophelia would be very unhappy with you if you spread such a story. It’s not a secret that you and she share a rather, ah, close relationship.”

  He shrugged. “Ophelia is very understanding. She may even be willing to say she saw you in my bed—that she was there with us. As you say, people know we share many things.”

  “That’s disgusting.” And after the conversation she’d just overheard—the one she couldn’t admit to hearing—she doubted how understanding Ophelia was feeling at the moment.

  He smiled. “You shouldn’t discount something until you’ve tried it.”

  “I believe I can come to a clear opinion without engaging in an, an orgy!”

  “Oh, it’s hardly an orgy.” Percy laughed. “I’d like to see you at an orgy—I’d wager your eyes would roll back in your head and you’d fall into a fit.” He looked at the drawers again. “Or, maybe not.”

  “I am not going anywhere near an orgy.”

  Percy was twirling the damn drawers on his finger. Could she grab them and run?

  “Hmm. The story might actually raise your value with Cox, you know, but I’m afraid it will put paid to any hopes you might have harbored with regard to Humphrey”—he snorted—“and our dear straitlaced Ned.”

  She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Percy, you know no one will believe those ... things are mine.” She would cling to that thought like a drowning man clings to the tiniest bit of flotsam.

  “I think they will. In fact, I think Ned knows they are yours. Why else would he have given them to you instead of putting them downstairs on the table with everything else?”

  “He gave me the reticule.” She could feel the waves breaking over her head. She was going down; she knew it.

  “Are you saying he didn’t notice this very shocking, very red garment inside the reticule? Or—” His eyebrows shot up. “Zeus, have you been frolicking in his bed?”

  “No!”

  Percy’s lips slid into an oily smile. “My, my, my. And here I thought Ned was true to my dear departed sister.”

  “He is.” Ellie could barely get the words out. She was shaking, she was so furious. She wanted to slap Percy—no, she wanted to kick him right between his legs.

  But she felt panic, too. The damn drawers were hers.

  Percy nodded thoughtfully. “I suspect this explains his sudden parsimoniousness.” He frowned at her. “I’m sure he’s told you he used to take his role as brother-in-law seriously, sending me needed funds from time to time, but this Christmas he cut me off. It was quite a blow—put me deep in the dismals, as you may well imagine. I couldn’t understand why old Ned would suddenly turn against me”—he looked her up and down—“but now I think I see the reason.”

  “Percy!” Shouting would not help anything. She swallowed, struggling to get her temper under control. “Will you be sensible? There’s nothing between Ned and me.”

  Percy snorted. “Of course there is. Good God, Ellie, what do you take me for? I’ve seen how you’ve cast sheep’s-eyes at Ned all these years.”

  “I-I—” Oh, dear God, so Jack hadn’t been the only one to notice.

  “You’re flapping your chin like a dying fish, my dear. It is not flattering.”

  Ellie snapped her mouth shut.

  “That’s better.” Percy smirked. “While it was clear to anyone with eyes that you would lie down and let Ned walk over you—or do more interesting things with other parts of his person—”

  “Percy!” Who knew it was possible to die of mortification and explode with anger at the same time?

  “—I was relatively certain Ned was oblivious to your adoration. Ned is a bit ... well, perhaps I should be charitab
le and call him unimaginative.” Percy sniggered. “It’s been quite entertaining watching you lust after him while he mourned poor Cicely.”

  Ellie tightened her hands into fists. “How can you be so callous? Not about me—I don’t care about that”—which wasn’t strictly true, but in this universe of suffering, hers was the least significant—“but didn’t you feel some sympathy for Ned? Didn’t you mourn Cicely yourself?”

  Percy glared at her, a new level of fury flashing in his eyes like lightning. “Of course I mourned my sister. She was one of the two most important people in my life.” He took a breath. “And Ned killed her.”

  Ellie gasped. “Ned didn’t kill Cicely.”

  “No? She’d still be alive if that big, rutting—” Percy pressed his lips together so tightly they formed a white line. He drew in a deep breath through his nose, obviously struggling for control, and then he smiled in a most unpleasant way. “Well, enough of that old story. I’m much more interested in the current tale.”

  “There is no current tale.” Clearly there was no point in prolonging this conversation. Percy was completely irrational. “Now give me that ridiculous garment, if you please, and we can both go seek our breakfast.”

  Percy held the drawers behind his back, safely out of her reach. “Oh, no. As I said, I’m keeping them to ensure you aren’t tempted to empty the bag about anything you might have overheard this morning. But now that I think about it, they might prove a good investment as well. I just have to see how things fall out before I know the worth of what I have here.”

  Ellie had a very bad feeling about this. “You’re talking in riddles.”

  “Am I? Then let me explain. I know you have no money, but Ned is quite plump in the pocket. At the moment he appears to be wooing Lady Juliet. He might be willing—eager, even—to keep her from finding out about the existence of this very interesting nether garment. I would be more than happy to hold my tongue ... for a price. Or he may even care enough about your reputation to be willing to part with a nice sum to protect it.” He grinned. “And since I have such a lamentable memory, one payment will never do. I’ll need regular reminders.”