Chapter 12

Nicholas paced in front of Ottersby's desk. Patience was late, a fact that her extremely punctual husband seemed to take in stride. Ottersby was dressed impeccably, and although Nicholas had brought the carriage so they could ride to the Bensons' ball together, he wasn't certain when they were actually going to leave.

"I'm certain Patience will be down shortly," Ottersby said, but he pulled out a second sheet of paper and began taking notes on something he was reading in the paper.

"Are you?"

"Well, perhaps not certain, but hopeful."

Nicholas grunted, certain that was wishful thinking on Ottersby's part.

Ottersby jotted something down, then looked up. "How is the courtship with Lady Mercy progressing?"

"I don't know." He had been to her home twice since asking to court her. Usually they played chess, although neither of them seemed very interested it. But it did give them time to talk about their likes and dislikes, as well as what things were most important to them. Lady Mercy always gave him answers that intrigued him. She disliked clams and any dress fabric with too much yellow in it. His answers felt stilted and rehearsed compared to hers. They'd talked of his time in the military when he'd gotten to know Donald. Fortunately, she never asked why the only son of a duke had been in the military at all. "I enjoy her company. Perhaps too much."

Ottersby stopped writing and raised his head. "You can't like the woman you want to marry too much. Would you prefer that you didn't enjoy her company at all?"

Of course he wouldn't prefer that. He rubbed his face. "I just feel so... so uncertain. I saw this all going very differently."

"More like a business transaction?"

"Yes and no."

Ottersby cleaned his pen. "Which part yes and which part no?"

"Discussions with her father, they go as planned. He makes sense to me. I tell him I want to court his daughter, and he gives me a blessing along with a missive to decide quickly if she is the woman I want to marry. I understand his concern about long courtships and engagements, and I agree with him. However, Lady Mercy is harder to understand. I know she is capable of strong attachment. But..."

"She isn't attached to you," Ottersby said it as if it were painfully obvious.

"I don't think so, no."

"And how does she feel about the courtship?"

"She has agreed to it."

Ottersby raised an eyebrow. "It seems as though you don't want a business transaction at all. You want more."

"I don't think I know how to do more. " Nicholas grimaced. He never considered himself a Casanova, but in general, women had been flattered to have his attention. Lady Mercy seemed... well... as if she were biding her time until he gave up on her.

Ottersby nodded as if he understood all too well. "Because in a business transaction you won't get hurt?"

It wasn't himself he was worried about hurting. "I don't care about being hurt. Heaven knows I've lived a life well protected while others faced harm." Donald could have attested to that. "I don't want her to be hurt, though."

"And you think you might hurt her by..." Ottersby put a hand out, palm up, waiting for Nicholas to fill in the last word.

Holding her too close in public, running a hand down her back while they danced, touching her hair, counting her freckles, forgetting himself completely and pulling her into an abandoned corridor and instead of speaking like they had the first time they'd found themselves in that situation, kissing her senseless. "Damaging her reputation," Nicholas said.

"And do you plan on damaging her reputation?"

"Of course not. What kind of man do you think I am? I've been nothing but proper with her."

"And you assume that by following all of Society's rules, you will be protecting her?"

"Isn't that why they exist?"

"Honestly, I don't know why half of them exist, but I suppose in this case, yes, they should allow Lady Mercy a protection from gossip and the like."

"And from me."

Ottersby laughed. "From you? No one needs protection from you. If you are this careful about protecting her, you may lose her." Ottersby stood up and strode around his desk. He took Nicholas by both shoulders. "Lady Mercy reminds me a bit of Patience, and if I had courted her like you are courting Lady Mercy, I don't think she would have given me the time of day."

"No one courts the way you and Patience did. Lady Mercy will not be applying to be a maid in my household anytime soon. And I don't know that it would have mattered with you and Patience. You should have seen how she went crazy over your long, detailed lists." Nicholas shook his head. Chess was a delight in comparison. "I simply know myself well, Ottersby. And the things that come to my mind sometimes..." The splash of freckles along the top of Lady Mercy's collarbone, the way her thin bracelet draped across the flesh of her wrist when she pushed it up to move a chess piece. The curve of her neck as it melted into a shoulder. "I don't want to lose control."

Ottersby's eyes flashed to his desk, and a half smile arose on his lips. Nicholas did not want to know what he was thinking. He had trusted Ottersby had been a perfect gentleman while Patience had lived with Nicholas. He didn't want to start doubting him now. It was too late, anyway. They were happily married.

"Passion can be a beautiful thing, Harrington. It is just as much a part of a relationship as respect and admiration."

"I'm not a complete dunce. I know that." He wanted that, but not until he and Mercy were engaged, at least, and she knew he was not taking advantage of her. If, at the end of all this, she decided to walk away, he wouldn't have anything tarnishing her name.

"Then perhaps at the Bensons' ball you could show her—at least a little bit—that you struggle to keep your hands off her."

"I don't struggle—" Nicholas started, but at the sight of Ottersby's raised eyebrow, he stopped. He did, and they both knew it.

Patience dashed into the room, a flurry of smiles and breathless excitement. "Shall we?"

Ottersby stood, and in a show of supreme superiority, or perhaps simply habit, he took his wife's arm in his and kissed her temple. "We shall."