Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

said, then caught herself, surprised. ‘Yes,’ she repeated slowly. ‘It was so … safe. I was so frightened before—of the debt, of what Philip had done, of what was going to become of us.’

      ‘Of me?’

      ‘No, never of you. Never from the moment I saw you,’ she said vehemently.

      ‘Why ever not?’ Nick twisted in his chair so he could look directly into her face. ‘I must have looked terrifying.’

      ‘Your eyes were not. And you are … big. That is reassuring. And I just felt that if anything threatened me you would stand in the way and whatever, whoever it was, would never get past you.’ She sat back, alarmed at her own frankness.

      ‘Then let me keep you safe!’ He was on his feet in a swirl of rich, dark silk, the firelight glinting off his hair, raising red lights in it. He looked magnificent, angry, barbaric and Katherine’s heart missed a beat. ‘Forget this nonsense about an annulment and let this marriage stand.’

      ‘No.’ She stayed in her chair; it was too dangerous to get closer to that male energy, that powerful force. ‘It would be wrong. I take marriage very seriously. I have the example of my parents to guide me and I will settle for nothing less than a love match and a marriage of equals.’

      ‘You are a stubborn woman.’ He came to a halt in front of her, silhouetted against the flame so she could not make out his face as she stared up. ‘I could, so easily, ensure you could never get your annulment.’

      ‘And you would never force me. We discovered that last night,’ Katherine said, keeping her voice steady with an effort that hurt.

      Nick threw himself down in his chair again and eyed her ominously. ‘It seems we have a stalemate.’

      ‘No, we have an agreement,’ Katherine said. ‘And in twenty-five days you are going to honour it.’

      Silence. Then Nick let out a huff of frustrated breath. Katherine curled up more tightly in her chair and waited.

      Eventually he said, ‘Why could you not sleep? Are you worried about Father?’

      ‘The Duke? Why, no, I like him.’

      ‘You do?’ His brows slanted up in surprise.

      ‘Yes, of course. You are very like him. And Robert, of course, I like him too.’

      ‘Then what is it?’

      Katherine bit her lip. ‘Oh, dear, this sounds so rude and ungrateful. But it is my bedchamber. It is so … so chilly.’

      ‘Then we must have a fire rekindled, fetch you some warmer bedcoverings. Tomorrow I will have the sashes checked, there must be a draught—’

      Terrified that he would ring for servants on the spot, Katherine stammered, ‘No, it is not the temperature. Oh, this is so foolish of me.’

      Nick was on his feet. ‘Come along, let me see for myself.’

      ‘But, Nick, we cannot walk about the house together at this time of night!’ Katherine let herself be pulled to her feet because struggling did not appear to be of much use, but she quailed at the thought of being seen walking about the corridors at two in the morning in her nightclothes in company with her … with Nick.

      ‘Why ever not?’

      ‘But the servants!’

      ‘Yes?’ His eyebrows rose with all the unconscious arrogance of a marquis in his own home. ‘You are my wife. Why should I not walk where I wish with you?’

      He was already halfway to the door, her hand held firmly in his. ‘And when they find out about the annulment? What then?’

      ‘They will assume I am insane,’ he said grimly, stepping out into the hall. ‘Provided they keep that opinion to themselves, that is their privilege.’

      The snores from the porter’s chair ceased with a grunt, and a tousled grey head emerged around the edge, rapidly followed by a shaken-looking man in livery, scrambling to his feet. ‘My lord!’

      ‘Goodnight, Grimshaw,’ Nick said cheerfully as they passed. ‘Time for your rounds, I imagine.’

      ‘Yes, my lord. Er, goodnight, my lady.’

      Katherine found herself being towed remorselessly back to her own chamber. Nick threw the door open and walked around, touching a candle to the various branched candlesticks that stood on surfaces round the room. In the flickering light of perhaps thirty candles, the Lake Suite stood revealed in all its icy magnificence.

      He rotated slowly on his heel, staring around him, then went to peer more closely at the painting of the virgin sacrifice. ‘Hmm. A tactless choice of subject, one cannot but feel. I had forgotten this room—like being inside an ice sculpture is it not?’

      ‘You think so too?’ Katherine asked in surprise. ‘I thought perhaps it was just that I am not used to grand apartments and was being foolish.’

      ‘Well, I would not care to sleep in it if I had the choice.’ Nick was striding around the room, snuffing out candles as he went. ‘I will talk to Heron tomorrow.’

      That was a relief, she could surely manage to sleep one night in this room, knowing she could move tomorrow. Nick blew out the last candle. ‘Oh, now I have nothing to see me to bed,’ she protested.

      ‘You have me.’ He bent, hooked on arm neatly under her knees and the next thing Katherine knew he was shouldering open her door and carrying her off down the corridor.

       Chapter Sixteen

      ‘Nick!’

      ‘Shh, the servants will hear.’ He was so obviously teasing her that Katherine gave a gasp of outrage before she found herself being set neatly on her feet just inside a room.

      She stared round, instantly wary. It was a bedchamber, a dark, rich masculine room of simple lines and polished wood, heavy crimson hangings and comfortable, well-used furniture. A fire, almost down to the ashes, still fed a few flames in the hearth and one branch of candles stood on a dressing table, its light cast back by silver and cut glass.

      ‘Cosy?’ Nick asked, leaning back against the door panels.

      ‘Comfortable. Very masculine. I like it. Is this your bedchamber?’

      ‘It is.’

      ‘I cannot possibly stay here. You know I cannot sleep with you, Nick.’

      ‘You already have, once. If you mean that we cannot make love if you want an annulment, then that is quite correct. However, I have no intention of making love to you.’ He paused, those dark eyes resting on her like a caress. ‘Not tonight.’

      Taken off balance, Katherine snapped, ‘And why not, pray?’ then blushed crimson.

      ‘Because I do not enjoy making love to very sleepy and thoroughly argumentative women.’ He was beginning to untie the sash of his dressing gown. Katherine was seized by a sudden terror that he was wearing nothing beneath it.

      ‘And you have such a wide experience,’ she commented bitterly. Thank heavens! He was wearing a perfectly respectable nightshirt.

      ‘Now, Kat, get into bed and stop trying to provoke me into ungentlemanly bragging,’ he said sanctimoniously. He began to snuff candles, leaving only the single light by the bed.

      Reluctantly Katherine untied the knot of her wrapper and slipped out of it before scuttling into bed with more speed than dignity. She burrowed across to the furthest side and regarded Nick nervously over the edge of the sheet.

      ‘Is that the same nightgown?’ he enquired, lifting the bedclothes and getting in beside her.

      ‘That I wore in Newgate? Yes.’

      He