Page 26 of The Jewels of Halstead Manor (Ladies of Devon 1)

“Our quest to uncover the mystery involving your father’s history with Halstead.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. You see? I have multiple valid points.” He had made an effort to word their project in a way that would keep her interested. He’d nearly flinched when he’d said ‘quest’ and hoped it would not make her pull back. She hadn’t, thank heavens, but she also hadn’t yet agreed.

“There is one thing you have not considered, I fear,” she said as she pulled her hand away and laid it in her lap. She was still sitting on the edge of his bed, her hip pressed against his side and warming him from the inside out.

“And what is that?”

“That perhaps I am not at liberty to allow the use of my given name.”

This he had not expected. He stilled for a moment but recovered quickly. “A name is not a promise, Miss Pepper.”

“Oh, I am fairly certain I know exactly why you feel that way, sir.”

“What are you implying?” He tried not to feel affronted, but it was difficult to keep any of the offense he felt from leaking into his tone.

“I have heard of your reputation and the pitiful women who fall for your charm only to be left heartbroken and alone. I value myself too much for that. I am worth more than a few stolen kisses.” She delivered her speech with a calm surety that told Nick she wasn’t judging him. She wasn’t speaking from atop her high, spiritual mount. No, it was worse. She was calmly explaining why she was worth more than the likes of him.

And she was right.

“I commend you, but that does not speak to whether or not you are free, as you mentioned.” He swallowed. “Is there a man in your life? Are you promised?”

She stilled. Rising, she sat on the chair beside the bed, leaving a chill in the void. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say.

“I am not betrothed, no.”

Nick waited for her to say more, but her lips were pinched in a thin line, her eyes unwilling to meet his gaze. He tried for a lighter tone. “If nothing else, we are cousins. Might that be reason for some familiarity?”

“Only distantly, I am told. Though I could not get a clear answer from the servants about just how we are related.”

“We are both descendants of Albert Pepper,” Nick explained. “The fourth Earl of Hart.”

“That is distant, indeed,” she said, eyebrows raised. “My uncle is the seventh earl, is he not?”

Nick nodded. He had one last point in his favor. “And besides,” he said, doing his best to sound nonchalant, “you have not called me Mr. Pepper once, and I think I understand why. I am offering you an alternative. We do not have to discuss it further.”

The ghostly pallor of Miss Pepper’s skin proved that Nick was correct. She must not appreciate calling him by the name her father had claimed. In all her time beside him, he had never once been called by name. Unless one counted the nickname…

“Of course,” he persevered, “you can always continue to call me Danger.”

She dropped her chin. “How can you remember that?” She sounded embarrassed, but she did not regain the color in her face. How could one have such control over their features?

“As I said, I remember a lot of things you told me when I was recovering. They are quite jumbled, to be frank. But I remember them, nonetheless.”

“Very well, Nick. I can see you will not relent. But you must understand this in no way signifies anything great.”

He grinned. Success. “Of course, Miss Pepper.”

She chuckled and began to cut the ham on his plate. He salivated just thinking about it. “Do I not deserve the same courtesy?”

She snorted. It made him want to make her laugh again.

“You are relentless,” she said.

“I am persistent,” he countered.

“There is a difference?” She cocked an eyebrow. Then she brought the fork to his mouth and fed him a large bite of tender, juicy ham. He groaned in ecstasy. Broth had nothing on real food, on the feeling of something solid filling his stomach. He had missed this.

---