Page 25 of More or Less a Countess
Chapter Seven
She was much lighter than he imagined she’d be.
Nick stared down into Miss Somerset’s face, at the long, dark lashes curled against her cheeks, the vulnerable curve of her lower lip, and only one thought penetrated the shocked fog in his brain: He thought she’d be heavier.
Somehow, between her ink-stained fingers, the cobwebs in her hair, and her sharp tongue, he’d begun to see her as solid, massive even, just from the force of her personality alone.
But he might have been holding a child in his arms—she was a feather, a cloud, an armful of mist. Christ, she was so small, so delicate and fragile, like bone china, or porcelain…
Nick choked back the fear rippling through him as he realized how breakable she was, how tender the skin of her neck. That scoundrel who’d attacked her…by the time Nick came upon them the man’s fingers had been gripping her throat. Another moment and the villain would have broken her, snapped her to pieces in his brutal grip.
A strange feeling came over him as he studied the graceful lines of her face, as if he were suspended between fury and fascination. Damn it, what was she doing out here in the dark with only her maid to protect her? How could she risk her safety in such a foolish way? And why had he never noticed how pale and fine her skin was, how sweet the curve of her lips?
He curled her tighter against his chest as these confusing thoughts bounced from one side of his skull to the other, refusing to settle into anything coherent.
“…never swooned in my life.”
Miss Somerset’s eyes fluttered open and Nick tensed, bracing himself for tears, wailing, and hysterics. Long moments passed as she blinked up at him with wide eyes, until at last her gaze cleared and recognition flickered across her features.
She drew in a deep breath, opened her mouth, and…
Here it comes.
Said the last thing in the world Nick expected her to say.
“You’re a large man, aren’t you, Lord Dare?”
Nick’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“Tall, I mean, and muscular.” She reached up and ran an experimental hand over his shoulder, testing the solidity of the muscle there as if she were assessing a horse. “Yes. Quite large, and strong as well. I doubt you have much trouble with footpads and thieves on the London streets, do you?”
Nick stared at her. Not five minutes ago she’d been trapped against a brick wall with a criminal’s hand squeezing her neck. Where was the confusion, the weeping, the apologetic babbling? For God’s sake, she hadn’t even breathed a word of thanks that he’d left her attacker bleeding on the cobblestones at the bottom of Cockpit Steps.
At that moment Nick tipped over the edge of fascination, and tumbled headlong into fury.
His arms tightened around her until she gave a little squeak of protest. “Lord Dare, you’re holding me rather tightly—”
“Not another word.” They’d reached his carriage, and he gave Miss Somerset’s maid a curt nod. “Get in.”
The servant wasn’t nearly as calm as her mistress, and she dove into the safety of the carriage as if the hounds of hell were yelping for her blood.
Nick deposited Miss Somerset carefully on the edge of the opposite seat. She slid over to make room for him and he leapt in, slamming the carriage door behind him.
“Lord Dare—”
“No,Miss Somerset,” Nick snapped through clenched teeth. “I’mgoing to speak now, and you’re going to be silent and listen.”
Her eyes widened at his tone, but she seemed to understand it wasn’t the time to trifle with him, because she subsided at once. “Yes, of course.”
“What thedevil,” Nick began, ignoring the maid’s gasp of dismay at his curse, “are the two of you doing wandering around Birdcage Walk alone, in the middle of the night?”
“Now, my lord, it’s hardly the middle of the night. It can’t be more than—oh!” Miss Somerset suddenly broke off and raised her hand to her mouth. “My sketchbook, Bridget! I dropped it when we ran down the steps to escape that blackguard!”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. The sketchbook. Of course. He should have known the bloody sketchbook was somehow connected to this madness. “What could you possibly have to sketch that couldn’t wait until daylight?”
Miss Somerset wasn’t listening to him. “Everything is in that book! All my work…oh, I must go back for it at once!”
She tugged at the door, but Nick grabbed her elbow before she could leap out onto the street. “Don’t even think of leaving this carriage, Miss Somerset.”
