The Captain of All Pleasures (Sutherland Brothers #1)(74)
Author: Kresley Cole

“If she’ll have me.”

“You’ll be related to her father forever,” Grant pointed out, wiping his eyes. “How will you handle that?”

With a pained expression, Derek said, “I will do what I have to do.”

Amanda broke in, “These might all be empty musings—she doesn’t exactly appear matrimonially bent on you.”

“She found out I was married.”

“Wait, I was there,” Grant said. “Lydia slithered up to Lady Christina and explained that she was the countess of Stanhope.”

Lydia and Nicole together? “What was Nicole’s reaction?”

“She fainted dead away.”

Derek ran a hand over his face. Christ, he would have spared her that. He had to see her and explain.

Amanda put her hand on his forearm. “Derek, listen to me. I don’t know everything that’s happened, but you can’t just run off like this.”

“Like what?”

Grant was clearly pleased to answer, “You missed a spot shaving, and your boots don’t match.”

He scowled down at his boots but continued to the door.

“Whatever has happened between you and the girl doesn’t make it right to go to Atworth House looking like that.”

He could admit that he hadn’t gotten very far in the planning stage, since he’d been floored by finally finding her. But he missed her, and knowing she wasn’t even a mile away was making him crazed.

“I’ve waited long enough.”

“Has she?” Amanda asked.

“What do you mean by that?”

“If she is Nicole Lassiter, has she had time enough to recover from your abandonment?”

“I’m going—”

“Very well. I see my advice is neither wanted nor needed,” she snapped. “I’m returning to Whitestone.”

Grant pointed out, “There are several weeks left in the season.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said tartly, never taking her eyes from Derek’s face. “I refuse to stay here when you’re acting like this. I at least want to have the excuse of not being here when you embarrass yourself further.”

As Derek walked out the door, he heard her exhale loudly and say, “Love has turned him into a fool. Grant, I’ll throttle you if you behave like this.”

When Derek stood once again on the doorstep of Atworth House, he knocked, and after several minutes, the same wheezing butler answered.

The man masked his surprise when Derek demanded, “I want to see Nicole.”

He took a loud, deep breath and announced, “She is not in at the moment.”

Derek smiled as he looked down. When he raised his head, his expression was neutral. “It is seven in the morning.”

“Nevertheless, she is not in at the moment.”

“You’re going to tell me this no matter how often I come here today, aren’t you?”

He detected a slight nod just as the man said, “She’s not in—”

With a raised hand, Derek shook his head. “I get the point.”

Deciding not to wrangle with the footmen again, he nodded to the butler and walked down the steps. As soon as the door closed, Derek turned toward the back of the mansion, where he’d spotted an ivy-covered garden wall. He held his breath as he pushed down the latch on the gate, but it opened easily. He walked in and approached the back of the house. As soon as he stood at the steps to the terrace, he saw her.

Early though it was, Nicole sat at a veranda table under falling cherry blossoms, absently tapping the tip of a strawberry against her bottom lip and ignoring the steaming tea service and newspaper in front of her. She looked out over the magnificent garden, but was lost in thought, unseeing.

Nicole leaned back in her chair, replaying the events of the previous night. Sutherland hadn’t asked for forgiveness, hadn’t even asked her to marry him. He’d simply decreed it so. Again, against her expectations, the tears refused to flow.

She didn’t understand what possessed the man to behave as he did. Audacious and arrogant weren’t strong enough words to describe him. Outrage spilled through her. All those late-night imaginings of him on one knee begging forgiveness—yet he just expected them to retie what he had so callously severed.

As if she would marry him! She had a slew of suitors, suitors who had propped up her failing pride. She’d choose one who’d give her a nice, sedate life. She could make it work. Though not if Sutherland continued his antics. Strange how all those years her grandmother had worried about Nicole’s behavior in the ton, and now a renegade earl was about to ruin her.

Suddenly, she froze. Out of the corner of her eye, near the house, she could see—no, it couldn’t be him. She turned. Sutherland!

She wasn’t surprised to get that inexplicable tightening in her chest at the sight of him, but fought it nonetheless. She forced her eyes away from him, rose from her chair, and began her retreat. When she had to pass Derek, he grabbed her hand.

“What are you doing, Sutherland?”

“We’re going to be wed.”

Not again. Panic rioted through her. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No, I’m thinking more clearly than I’ve ever done. I’m taking you to Gretna Green.”

She gasped and finally sputtered, “The hell you are! Why would I wed you when I despise you?” And why couldn’t she make her tone as outraged as she felt?

He reached out to stroke the hair off her forehead, and after an initial try, she couldn’t seem to fling herself away from him. Had she missed him that badly? Enough to turn docile at his slightest touch?

“Trust me—you do not want to marry one of those dandies. They’re not man enough for you.”

She didn’t doubt that. “And you are?”

“Indeed.”

The arrogance! She was embarrassed by her weakness, brought low with another stroke of her hair. She couldn’t think when he did that, and he knew it.

He took advantage of her temporary calm by grabbing her hand and pulling her down the steps. “We’ll talk in the carriage.”

“No,” she squealed as she pulled back. “I’m not marrying you. And even if I wanted to—which I do not—you can’t come in here and act as if you own me. I have a family and obligations. Did it occur to you that they might want to be present when I do wed?”

“Then we’ll be married twice.”

“Again,I’m not—”

Chapman appeared at the veranda doors, politely clearing his throat. “Are you all right, my lady? Shall I get the marchioness?”

“No! No need for—”

“She’s here?” Derek demanded.

With a whistling breath, Chapman inclined his head toward the door, and before Nicole could form a protest, Derek half-dragged her in that direction. What would her grandmother think when a huge man came barreling into her staid parlor?

She also questioned why she gave him only token resistance, why she was insanely going along with his high-handed behavior.

When they reached the doorway to the salon, he called to the marchioness, “My lady—”

“What do you want? I’m not hard of hearing,” she interrupted without raising her head, making it plain that her cross-stitching held more interest for her.