Page 43 of When She Loved Me
It was not.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, glancing up from the newspaper before her, which was likely several days old, “but you and Ian go on without me. I’ve too much indoor work to attend today.”
Deflated, but not deterred, he suggested they might wait until she was available, if that suited her.
It did not.
Vaguely, as if she hadn’t a care for this pursuit, she shrugged, “Truly, my schedule all this week is quite full. Pray, do not wait for me.” And she turned the page, studying some article while she sipped her morning chocolate.
And when he and Ian had returned from the mine, and he requested Timsby’s presence in the ballroom, that they might have another hour of instruction for dancing, his valet informed him that they had done so already today, while he and Ian had been gone.
“We’ve got a right fine start on the waltz now, my lord,” Timsby said with no small amount of pride. “The countess was fabulous, taking special care to show Henry the motions.”
Trevor was sure that he made some appropriate reply to this, but truth be told, he was examining his own feelings toward this, that he’d now been thwarted twice by his wife, whether intentionally or not, in a matter of hours.
He walked into the library at tea time with greater resolve, bound and determined to engage Nicole in some fashion and have her drop this ridiculous façade of disinterest.
But she wasn’t there. And she didn’t show. At quarter past the hour, Trevor casually inquired of Franklin if she might be summoned, perhaps reminded of the time.
“She might be,” said his unflappable butler, “save that she’s not here, my lord.”
Frowning, wondering how that might have escaped his notice, he asked, “Where is she?”
“Gone to town, I believe,” replied Franklin.
Lorelei’s head spun around, her pinkie lifted away from the thin porcelain tea cup. “Oh no, Franklin. I thought she was abed, said she had a headache after dancing this morning.”
Henry spoke up, raising his gaze from his book. “I saw her out in the stables, but she weren’t getting the gig ready, but her favorite mare. I think she went riding.”
Annoyed now, Trevor glanced at first Ian, and then Timsby, to see if they might offer yet another possible location for his errant wife. Ian shrugged and his valet gave him a look that Trevor interpreted to mean,I’m new here, so I’m sure I have no idea.
Later, he was surprised that she bothered to show herself at dinner, making no apology for having avoided him all day.
Adopting an air of indifference, he remarked, from across the long table, “We missed you at tea this afternoon.”
Nicole lifted her glorious green eyes from her soup. “Did you?” She asked, her expression blank.
When he said nothing immediately, she applied herself again to the first course, which gave Trevor leave to grind his teeth unnoticed. Dammit, he knew it was an act, the coolness she stroveto achieve. She was making it very difficult for him to win her over. How was a man expected to court his wife if she would not make herself available for the wooing?
By the time dinner had ended, and he had again chastely and frustratingly seen her to the bottom of the stairs, Trevor had come to a decision. He hadn’t wanted to resort to this, but he felt, certainly with time being a factor, that he had no choice but to seduce his wife. Oh, he absolutelywantedto seduce his wife. He wanted nothing more than to once again feel her untried but so very provocative lips pressed against his; he wanted to crush her to him and vow he would never risk losing her again; he wanted so badly to explore all the promise of their once upon a time petting and kissing, of which he’d only dreamed on for months and months.
If only he had something to offer her—aside from himself, in which she currently was pretending a complete disinterest—something that only he could give her, something she would certainly not be able to refuse.
As he stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her ascend, so far out of his reach, a compelling smile came slowly and surely, with the idea forming in his head.
NICOLE HAD ONLY MOMENTSago climbed into bed, scrunched down upon the pillows against the headboard, her knees lifted to hold the book she was reading when a knock sounded at the door. She called for entrance, assuming Lorelei had forgotten something.
Instead, she watched as the door opened to reveal Trevor and not her maid. She gawked in mute panic as he smoothly closed the door behind him. Nicole froze, huddled as she was within the bed, the book now forgotten.
She felt indignation rise then and sat up in the bed, dropping the book to her lap.
“What do you want?”
He seemed reluctant to speak, seemed intent only to stare at her, and she resisted the urge to bring the bed covers up and over her flimsily garbed upper body. Thankfully, her loosed and brushed out hair swept forward over her shoulders, hiding much of her thin night rail from his gaze.
“Trevor, why are you here?” Nicole persisted.
“I wanted to discuss something with you,” he answered finally.
