Chapter Forty-Three

M usic sounded through the halls from the string ensemble. The ball was in full swing, but Nick and Pippa remained in the halls, walking hand-in-hand through the Langleys' elegant home.

"So, what do you usually do at these balls, if not dance?" The crowd had dissipated, and Nick wasn't sure what to do or say now. He was out of his depth in this environment. He preferred his practice, his office, and his examination room where he knew exactly what to do and how to act.

From the corner of his eye, he could see a group of ladies approaching Felix and Alfie. New clients.

"I don't want to do what I usually do," Pippa said to the grand ballroom more than to Nick. "Come with me." She took his hand and led him further away from the ballroom.

Nick looked at her fingers intertwined with his. His eyes trailed from her hand to her delicate wrist, up her arm, to the lace edge of her sleeve and to the puffy sleeves of her gown. She was so beautiful, like a princess from a fairy tale. He couldn't believe his luck. Such an intelligent, spirited, and gorgeous woman said she loved him. His heart hurt with the overwhelming sense that he could never give her what she was used to. But before he could continue down this path of thoughts, Pippa stopped.

"This is the south hall." She still held his hand and gestured in the direction of a large double door with the other. "The gardens are over there."

"Very nice," Nick said, at a loss of what exactly he should or could say to such opulence in a mere corridor of the house. Why did Pippa smirk at him? She stopped in front of a set of double doors and Nick pushed them open for her.

It took him a moment to adjust his eyes to the darkness in the garden, but he welcomed the fresh spring air. The scent of a magnolia tree made him turn his head toward a structure that looked like a small marble house with windows.

"That's the pavilion," she said, nearly giddy with excitement as she tilted her head in the direction of a white-painted wooden door that was seamlessly integrated with the molding of the wall.

Nick remained silent. She was clearly up to something, but he had no idea what a gentleman should say when a lady was this excited about a garden pavilion. He tried to smile but he was rather nervous now.

Pippa stood straight and had an air of leadership that hadn't quite surfaced before. He was intimidated; this was her terrain.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked when the doors to the townhouse shut behind him and they were alone in the gardens.

She shook her head. A mischievous gleam washed over her gaze like the day before his birthday when she took him away in her carriage.

"Pippa?" Nick tried to let his voice sound deep, but he was too nervous, and she was so beautiful., He rather felt like a green boy.

"This is the pavilion." She walked to the marble structure.

"Very well. It's a pavilion."

"No. It's the pavilion." She looked so happy about the pavilion door that was unlocked when she turned the handle down. Nick was at a loss but reveled in her excitement, nonetheless. His sweet Pippa. Had she tried the rum-spiked orgeat punch already? Come to think of it, he'd never seen her drink alcohol. Perhaps it hadn't agreed with her?

A small group of two elegant young women and two gentlemen came along the gravel path and headed to the door to the house. "Is that the clumsy goose?" one of the women asked loudly.

"She's not so clumsy now. And look, she's with the doctor," one of the men said, who had the other of the women on his arm.

"Oh my!" the first woman said. "Who would have thought?"

"Never mind that. Here's the pavilion, the temple of pleasure," the other man said, amused, as he pushed the double doors open. "They were here first." And the group disappeared into the house.

Nick turned back to Pippa. She was beaming and flushed. "What's with this pavilion?" he asked.

"It's the temple of pleasure." Her eyes glinted. "And ruin."

"Ruin?" Realization dawned on Nick, and he didn't like it. He pictured men taking from innocent debutantes what they were not willing to give freely.

"Well, trysts. Seduction." Pippa's eyes gleamed. " Sin ." She licked her lips.

"Oh dear."

"Nobody ever took me there." She pulled Nick by his hand.

"Good! I'm glad." Nick rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he followed her. Why were his hands sweating so much?

"Nobody ever wanted to take me there. It wouldn't have occurred to—" she waved grandly and shook her head so that her beautiful golden curls bobbed delightfully—"anyone! Nobody!"

Nick's mien fell somber. "I'm missing some context for why that's bad."

"The pavilion gives carte blanche to the most beautiful women at a ball. It's a way for the diamond of the first water to test their suitors. What happens in the pavilion stays in the pavilion." She blushed further and reached for Nick's shaft with her other hand. "Take me there."

"You mean…" Nick said meaningfully.

"Yes, please. Just this once, I want to feel like the belle of the ball."

"You are." And he meant it.

"Show me."

He couldn't help the smirk that grew on his lips. As uncomfortable and out of place he'd felt, now that they were alone again, it felt easy. This was Pippa, his sweet Pippa. Despite the pomp surrounding her, she still wanted him. "Do you know how much I love you?"

She tilted her head sideways with the innocence of a girl but the allure of a vixen, as if she were embarrassed. "I never thought I'd stand here with a man as handsome and accomplished as you."

"Says the lady."

Their eyes met and Nick pulled her closer.

Pippa walked backward and led him through the pavilion door.

With her left hand, she let go of his and locked the door when they were inside a small room.

"Well, this is tight." He looked around. Only a slight line of yellow light came through the windows from the house, but the trees shrouded the pavilion in privacy. There was a shelf of linens. By the sheen and colors, they were tablecloths. Some candlesticks were on another shelf with a silver tea set. "What's this?" He looked up and there was a metal ring suspended from the ceiling on a chain.

"I've never been here, I told you." Pippa stepped on the cushions on the floor.

"It locks from the inside."

She shrugged. Then Pippa put her hand on his chest. "This is where young women are compromised. But I think you already understand that." She lowered her eyes and fluttered her eyelashes. "Compromise me, Nick."

"I think I already did that to you quite thoroughly." Nick couldn't hide the pride in his voice. It had been the best birthday in his life. The best day of his life. "But I would be happy to do it again." He couldn't wait, in fact.

She found the opening between the buttons of his shirt and slid her hand onto his bare chest. Nick let go of her and unbuttoned his vest, then his shirt. He granted her access. He always would.

"I'm all yours, Pippa."

She chuckled with delight. And Nick felt like a prize. It was unbelievable how he could feel so good and yet so small around the aristocrats at the ball. But with Pippa, he felt like a king on the top of a mountain radiating light he caught from her. She was his sun. His light. His love. And there was nothing between them to refract the light that she brought to his heart, a bright beam leading him into their joined future.

Her hands trailed up and down his chest and Nick leaned in. She received his mouth willingly. So warm and lush. So perfect. He was whole.