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Anusha loved fireworks and the steps he led her to were marked with torches, so Lady Hoskins obviously expected her guests to use that part of the garden. There would doubtless be servants up there too.
When they arrived at the upper level the burst of lights was so spectacular that she ran to admire them and it was not until they died down that she realised that they were alone in a shadowed space, looking out on to a terrace below.
‘Miss Laurens...Anusha.’ He was very close. Far too
close.
‘We should go down, there is no one else here.’
‘That is good, surely?’ Sir Clive put a hand either side of her so that she was trapped against the balustrade, his forearms bracketing her hips. ‘We came up here to be alone, did we not?’
‘I came up here to see the fireworks, I thought other people would be here too.’ She was not frightened, for surely this was only flirting going rather too far, but she was becoming annoyed and a little flustered. Anusha did not enjoy the sensation. ‘Please move your arms, Sir Clive.’
‘Not until I get my kiss.’ He moved in closer. Now she could feel his heat, smell the sandalwood he used on his hair. His breath smelled of brandy.
‘I have no wish to kiss you, Sir Clive.’ He was too close in now for her to raise a knee sharply, or twist free. She began to feel rather more than flustered.
‘Now don’t tell me you are a little tease, Anusha.’ He bent his head and kissed the side of her neck. She twisted her head away and his mouth found her cheek.
‘Stop it! I am not teasing you.’
His lips moved down to her neck, down to the swell of her breast. ‘Oh, but you were,’ he murmured. ‘Those big grey eyes, those long, long lashes, that pouting mouth.’ He lifted his head and his eyes were bright, narrowed. Predatory. ‘I know what they taught you in that zanana—how to please a man and all manner of exotic tricks to do it, too, I’ll wager. Now you can show me some of them.’
* * *
‘We need to speak about Anusha, George.’
Nick took the older man by the arm and steered him into a deserted retiring room.
‘Now? Here?’ Sir George regarded him from beneath lowered brows and Nick wondered if he still had the uncanny power to detect wrongdoing that he had possessed when Nick had been a scrubby seventeen-year-old. His conscience was giving him hell and it probably showed.
‘I am worried about her. You need to talk to her about her mother, George. She’ll never settle to marriage with that in the forefront of her mind because she’s expecting to be rejected again, let down.’
‘I never intended—’
‘I know. You did the only thing in an impossible situation. But she doesn’t trust you and she sees marriage as a trap at worst, a burden at best.’
‘So do you, unless something has changed.’ The older man settled in an armchair, offered Nick a cheroot, then, when he shook his head, lit one for himself.
‘We are not discussing my situation.’ He wondered sometimes what a happy, loving marriage would be like, but that was just a daydream. He had seen his parents’ marriage, seen George’s troubles, experienced for himself the dull ache of a loveless union between two people without a thing in common. He should have done something—been kinder, more indulgent. Or perhaps firmer. He shook his head, exasperated at his own lack of understanding. No, marriage was not for him, not again.
‘I know. And I know, too, that I put a lot of pressure on you to marry Miranda, and that was a mistake. I won’t try to interfere with your love life again, believe me, Nicholas! But I want happiness for Anusha, security, respectability. I’ll find the right man for her.’
‘Then talk with her, convince her that you love her, that you loved her mother and never stopped. Let her see that she can trust you. Otherwise I fear she might run away.’
‘She would never do that, surely?’ Nick realised he understood her far better than her father. George was underestimating her fierce determination. ‘But I will talk to her about her mother. I... It shook me to find her so beautiful, so grown up—so cold. I don’t know what I expected when I saw her again and I haven’t handled it well.’ He looked up, a vulnerability in his eyes that grabbed at Nick’s heart. This was his strong father-figure? George couldn’t be getting old! ‘Thank heavens I’ve got you to help me look after her.’
* * *
If she screamed it would attract a lot of attention. Anusha thought longingly of the little knife that slipped into her riding boot. ‘Oh...very well.’ She lifted her face and Clive bent his smirking lips to hers. Anusha opened her mouth, let his touch it, then bit hard on his lower lip.
