Page 45 of A Sight to Behold
“It’s dangerous for you to be with me,” Pippa said with a voice that sounded like a wilted flower she couldn’t save from her orangery.
“Yes, but if I’m caught here with you, it’s not just me. I could hang and then Wendy would never have a chance in life. Our practice would be shunned, and Felix would have to go back to Vienna. Andre might go back to Florence. But Wendy and Alfie—”
“I didn’t realize how much you put at risk by spending time with me.” Pippa sucked her lower lip in.
“I’m more than spending time with you, aren’t I?”
“It’s too much of a risk, I’m afraid. I’ve been so selfish to steal you away from London.”
Nick put a hand on her cheek. “It’s a risk of the heart, but one worth taking,” he whispered, gazing into her eyes with unwavering certainty as they leaned in for a kiss that sealed their fate. The kiss was different than before, slower, deeper, and igniting a love that would defy all odds. As their lips met, time seemed to stand still, and the world faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of their embrace. In that fleeting moment, they both knew that they had found something rare and beautiful that would endure beyond the test of society’s scorn. And before long, the carriage came to a stop.
They’d arrived.
Chapter Twenty-One
When Nick exitedthe carriage, he knew he was in trouble. Not only because he’d given his heart too freely, but he’d taken a duke’s daughter out of Town. Terrified of the consequences of his action but thrilled to be alone with Pippa, Nick threw caution to the wind. The damage had been done; he might just as well enjoy himself. If all else failed, he’d take Wendy out of town before he’d get caught and start a new life somewhere else. He’d leave the practice and all he’d worked for a moment alone with Pippa. If he didn’t, he’d never forgive himself.
He blinked a few times when Silvercroft Manor appeared before him. He hadn’t paid much attention to the countryside when Pippa’s breasts bobbed ever so slightly on the bumpy country road, but now that he’d stepped out of the hack, London might as well be a thousand miles away.
The “little country estate” Pippa had adorably mentioned as though it were a lodge in the woods was a chateau; a Tudor-style castle with several smoking chimneys, a red brick, like St. James Palace, and poetic rolling hills of greens surrounding it.
“There’s a rose garden in the back; you can’t see it from here,” Pippa said as she began to walk toward the building.
Nick rushed to her side, trying to keep up. She truly had the most magnificent long legs and walked at a healthy pace. She was perfect.
And still off limits.
Which he’d shattered.
There’d be consequences. Nick gulped. But it didn’t matter now.
The wind blew in their faces, and Pippa’s hair became rather undone. She didn’t seem to care and smiled brightly.
“It’s the best season to be here, early in the year, just before everything blooms. It’s so full of promise and mystery.” She winced when she said it and Nick had a sinking feeling that she had something in store for him.
Nick didn’t say anything but thought it was perfect because of her, regardless of the weather.
“Mr. George?” Pippa called when she opened the door, letting Nick into the richly decorated hall. It was like he’d imagined when he saw it from the outside: a thick carpet spanned from the door to the hall. “Mrs. George?” Pippa called again.
No answer.
Heavy wooden double doors lined the corridor. A coffered wooden ceiling held onto wrought iron chandeliers. Even an old lance hung on the wall next to a series of crests.
“Who does this castle belong to?” Nick asked when Pippa hung her pelisse on a hook beside an antique grandfather clock.
“My mother.”
“But your mother is—”
“Yes, she died. The estate is held in trust for me but I’m free to run it as I like.”
“And your mother was?”
“Florence Philippa Cumberland.”
Nick felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “OftheCumberlands?”
“Yes, are there others?”
