Regency Romance: A Race Against The Lord (A Historical Romance Book) (COMPLETED)

12

Nicholas found that he couldn't take his eyes off Lydia. He had seen her take down a bandit with a perfume bottle and attempt an escape from two constables, but it seemed as if out of mourning and in the lively world of London, she gleamed. She looked at the world around her with a fresh wonder that made his heart beat a little faster, and when she gazed at the crowds and the art with equal pleasure, it made him smile.

There was also something oddly tender about the way she kept a firm hold on Eunice's arm, shielding her from the rustle of the crowd and making sure she walked slowly enough so that Eunice could keep up.

If anything. Eunice seemed as enchanted with Lydia as he was. While Lydia was examining a bouquet of flowers carved entirely out of freckled marble, Eunice pulled Nicholas close.

"There are some women that you must not allow to pass you by, great-nephew. I certainly hope that any relation of mine would understand that."

Nicholas, who was more used to his aunt's flights of fancy, blinked at her brisk admonishment. Then she was off again, arm in arm with Lydia and pointing out some new amusement. Nicholas followed along behind them, and when Eunice sat down on a bench and pronounced herself too tired to move on, he was prepared.

"Oh, no, shall we return to the carriage, Miss Eunice?" asked Lydia with concern, but Eunice was already shaking her head bravely.

"No, no, my dears, I would not like you to miss out on such a pleasant day on my account. I shall stay here and be very content as you see the rest."

Lydia looked as if she might like to protest, but Nicholas was already offering her his arm.

"I'm sure Great-aunt Eunice knows her mind best," he said, and when Lydia took his arm automatically, he was leading her away.

"Why do I suddenly think that you both planned that somehow?"

"Surely not. My great-aunt is as innocent as a barnyard kitten. She would never do anything the least improper."

"I suppose I must take your word for it, but believe me when I say that I will be questioning her very closely when we return to the house."

"We don't have to do that, you know."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we are having such a lovely day out. Perhaps we should extend it."

"And where would we go, your grace? Are you after a dinner out, perhaps?"

"Well, I confess that I'm of a slightly more ambitious mindset. To the continent perhaps and see Barcelona? To Greece perhaps, to see where all these marble statues come from?"

Lydia laughed, and Nicholas swore that he had never heard a sweeter sound. He saw some men in the gallery turn toward them with interest, but he tightened his grip on her arm. The surge of possessive jealousy startled him. he had never been a particularly domineering man before, but Lydia changed many things, it seemed.

"You ought not say such things to me, your grace. As you have often noted, I am impulsive enough to run off to London. Do not give me the opportunity to run off to Greece as well."

"Has it always been a dream of yours?"

"Oh, yes. Greece and Italy and points even farther away. I have always wished to see the places that I have only read about in books."

"I will take you, if you wish, Lady Lydia."

Nicholas was perfectly earnest, but Lydia only laughed again.

"As I said, be careful what you promise me."

"I refuse. I want to promise you the world."

She looked up at his tender declaration, but just then they came around to a gallery where half the room was curtained away. When they came closer, they saw a booth where a worker was obviously meant to stand and a sign as well.

"The works hidden behinds this curtain are of a gross and deviant nature, and they are only meant for viewing by mature-minded gentlemen of age," read Lydia with some indignation.

"You sound offended. Wounded at the suggestion your sex is too weak to suffer these indignities in marble?"

"I suppose I am. You may have paid for my ticket, but it was certainly not less in price than yours. Why should I receive less value for my ticket?"

"Quite right, Lady Lydia." Nicholas risked a short look around. "Shall we equalize the playing field?"

"What—?"

Lydia stifled a yelp as Nicholas tugged her behind the curtain, making Nicholas laughed.

"Not going to show the white feather now, are you?"

"No! Let's see what is so deviant that women and children are not allowed in."

There were a few nude statues that Lydia had to avert her eyes from, but they were modest overall, Nicholas thought. For a man who had traveled all over the continent looking for pleasure, they were positively pedestrian, and they didn't much seem to impress a young girl from the country. At least they didn't until they reached the final area in the forbidden gallery.

"Oh," Lydia whispered, and Nicholas' eyes widened.

They had certainly saved the best piece for last. It was enormous, carved from glowing pure white marble, and in full life-size, it showed a man and a woman in what could only be seen as a carnal embrace. They were a tangle of limbs sculpted in perfect attention to detail, and though there were flowers and hair obscuring most details, nothing obscured the way they were looking at each other.

Nicholas had never seen such a perfect representation of the mix of lust and love as was shown on this statue. The woman looked up at the man as if he was the only thing in the world, and the man looked as if he had found his life's meaning.

"My goodness," Lydia murmured faintly, looking up at the statue. "There are many things I would call this, but I would not call it deviant."

"Holy, perhaps," Nicholas murmured, "though it is so very much a pagan thing."

"Sometimes I feel like a pagan thing," Lydia murmured, turning to him, and he couldn't resist her. They turned to each other, and when Nicholas took Lydia's face between his hands, he felt as if he was holding something precious, something that he must not let go.

He had kissed so many women in the past, done so much more with them, but nothing compared to kissing this one country girl in front of an ancient statue dedicated to a long-lost sensuality.

When he felt Lydia's shy tongue brush against his lower lip, Nicholas nearly groaned outright, holding her even closer to him.

"Beautiful and perfect Lydia," he murmured.

She started to reply, but instead suddenly pushed him away.

"There are people coming!"

They straightened themselves quickly and left the restricted gallery. It looked like no one had caught them, but Nicholas could see the high delighted blush on Lydia's cheeks as they walked quickly away.

As they went to rejoin Eunice, Nicholas was aware that this couldn't last, not really, but the dark shadow of what he knew couldn't blot out the pleasure of being with Lydia in the here and now.