Chapter Twenty-Two

"What are you doing here?" Patience asked as she fought to pull on her riding gloves.

"Is that any way to greet your fiancé?" Nate flashed a grin. It made her stomach turn itself inside out.

"You are not my fiancé," she protested.

"According to everyone else I am."

She sighed. "Nate, all you need to do is declare it was a mistake and we can end this."

His smile softened and there was something odd flickering in his blue eyes. A kind of softness that she had never witnessed before. "Come, the birds will not shoot themselves."

"How did you know I was going shooting?"

"Your brother mentioned as much yesterday."

"You know you could have used that moment to tell him the wedding was not going to happen." She continued fighting with her glove. She never had any problems with kid leather before but then she never normally had to wrestle with the things in front of the most handsome and charming man she had ever met.

"If you had listened to our conversation, you would have realized why that was not at all possible."

Scowling, she huffed at her wretched glove. Whatever they had talked about behind closed doors, her brother had told her nothing. She imagined it was the usual sort of thing—how much dowry she would bring and such like. It would be a paltry sum to a man like Nate. Which brought up the question yet again, why on earth did he not simply give in and announce it was all over?

Nate stepped forward, his boots clacking on the tiled floor of the hallway. He took the glove from her and eased it on before doing up the three buttons on the inside of her wrist. Then he snatched the other from where it was tucked under her arm and did the same. Once he was done, he swept a kiss across her lips.

All of it had her so taken aback that she was unable to react. Unless one counted standing frozen with one's mouth ajar as a reaction.

"My horse is waiting. I thought we could hunt on my brother's land, if you have no objection. It is certainly more suited to hunting than the woods."

Had she been in better charge of her senses, she would have declined. She hunted on a regular basis, on her own usually. She only took one gun and had no need for any aid. However, the shooting would be better on the Earl of Redmere's land.

But why was he doing this? There was no need. Did he think to persuade her to break it off? If he did, he was going about it the wrong way. She loved to ride and hunt, and there would be nothing better than doing it on estate land.

"I—"

"Excellent." He took her hand, gave her another kiss on the lips and helped her mount her horse before following suit.

Heat infused her cheeks the entire ride through the village. They crossed the bridge over the estuary and it seemed everyone was fascinated by them. If they were in doubt as to whether the rumors were true, they would not be now. What sort of a game was Nate playing?

Once they moved past the fishermen's cottages and the road widened, she came to his side. "You realize we shall be the talk of the town today?"

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes. You deserve to be talked of."

She shook her head. "I have no idea what you mean but you know that will make calling things off all the more difficult."

"If you call it off, yes."

"You know I cannot. My brother will be furious."

"He will understand. That is, if that's really what you want."

"What I want? Of course it's..." She sucked in a breath. This man was confusing her. It was what he wanted, was it not? Surely it was? How could they get married? They might have lived around each other for years but they had not really come to know each other until recently, and a few kisses and conversations were not enough to make a marriage, were they?

Not to mention there was no chance Nate could really want her. Not truly. She was so far removed from marriage material, it was laughable.

They crossed under the gate that indicated the start of the earl's land. It stretched over a flat inlet of land that had been carved out of the valley when the estuary had been wider, likely many hundreds of years ago. The land extended up over the hills on which sheep and cattle were kept. Trees dotted the grass which was segmented off from the rest of the world by way of brick walls and a wooden fence. Smoke swirled from the gatehouse and lamps were lit in the windows.

They made their way up toward the fields behind the house and dismounted there. Patience tried her best to focus on the hunting but it was mightily distracting to be with Nate and she did not perform as well as she would have liked. Mostly she did not outperform Nate and that riled her.

After an hour of his company, she began to forget she was with the great Lord Nathaniel and as he teased and flirted, she relaxed. With several excellent shots under her belt, they called it a day.

"Would you mind if I check on the sheep?" he asked as they mounted their horses.

"Not at all."

They headed toward the outer stables where the farm animals were kept. The horses were allowed a moment to drink and eat while Nate opened the sheep's pen and gave her a pat on the head. The odd relationship between the two made her smile. Who would have thought a smuggling, roguish lord would care for a sheep? He glanced her way and the breath left her lungs. He gave her the same affectionate look that he bestowed upon the sheep.

Could he care for her too? No, surely not.

"Will you come in for some refreshments? My brother will not be at home. He is dealing with this wedding malarkey."

Patience eyed him, taking in the appealing way his hair had tousled underneath his hat. He set said garment aside for a moment and stepped closer.

"Well?"

"I am not sure your sister to be will be happy with you calling it malarkey."

"Do not change the subject. Will you stay a little longer?"

The warm, earnest look in his eyes had her practically unravelling. Had she not been leaning against one of the wooden struts inside the barn she might have collapsed altogether. It would be far too easy and appealing to believe Nate truly wanted her, but if he did not, what was this game?

"I should return home."

"Perhaps."

"I mean, I really ought to return home."

"Maybe."

"Nate, I must."

"Why? Your brother knows you are here, with your fiancé. As long as I have you returned by nightfall there is nothing that can be said."

"Yes, but we both know you are not really my fiancé."

"Until you break it off with me, you are."

She studied his resolute expression and huffed. "This is—"

A blur of white cut her off. The sheep rushed in front of her. Nate held up his hands. "Sheep, behave," he commanded.

The animal ignored him and went barreling into him, forcing him to take a step back. All would have been well had the back of his legs not connected with the trough behind him. The sheep backed off only briefly before giving Nate one more nudge, as if intending to seal her master's fate.

It seemed to happen slowly. There were flailing arms, a slight look of panic which Patience rather enjoyed considering she had never seen the man look panicked in his life. He toppled backward and water splashed about him. The trough rocked slightly but did not tip.

Patience stared and took in the aftermath of the sheep's eager behavior. The creature did several loops of the trough as if inspecting the result. Nate sat, his legs hanging over the side of the trough. His shirt clung to his skin, soaked through. Water trickled down his face and a tinge of furious red haunted his cheeks and forehead.

Patience pressed her lips together but it was no good. A burst of laughter escaped her. Then another. Then more when Nate tried to ease himself out of the trough only to fall back down and create another wave of water. Tears streamed down the side of her face and she clutched her stomach.

"God. Damn. Sheep," Nate muttered.

"Oh dear," she gasped. "You should see..." She tried to suck in a breath to control the laughter. "It really is just so very amusing." Her shoulders shook as another torrent of laughter overtook her.

"Do not just stand there. Help me up," Nate demanded, holding out a hand.

Still giggling, Patience took his hand and braced herself to help pull him up. As soon as his fingers had sealed over hers, she realized her mistake. He gave one brief, hard tug.

The ground went from under her feet. A shock of cold water touched her skin. She toppled completely in, landing atop him. His eyes were crinkled with mirth.

She gave him a splash and laughed. "Now, how am I meant to return home?"

"Precisely."

"Did you plan this?"

An eyebrow lifted. "Plan to have that blasted sheep push me into a trough? Unlikely." He gave her a little shove and inched her forward out of the trough. "Come on, let us get out of here before we catch a chill."

She put her hands onto the edge of the metal and with one rather ungentlemanly push to her rear, she was out. Turning, she offered her hand to Nate.

"You had better not pull me in again."

He lifted a hand. "I swear it."

She helped him up and water sluiced off him. He shoved a hand through his hair, turning the tousled waves curlier. Patience grinned.

"I cannot tell if your sheep loves you or hates you."

He returned the grin. "Sometimes I cannot either."

When her gaze fell from his smile, the air in her lungs froze. It was not the first time she had seen his body but there was something different about it in a wet shirt. The way the cotton clung and molded to him had her stumbling for words, or actions. All she could do was stare.

She tried like the devil to swallow the knot in her throat but it would not budge. When she finally managed to tear her gaze upward, she realized he had not even noticed her paralysis. He had been too busy staring as well. She now understood that if she looked at her own shirt, there would be a similar image except he would be able to see her breasts and probably the indent of her waist.

It hit her hard. This was it. This was what it felt like to be a powerful, strong woman, able to command a man to do her bidding. Except, of course, now she had him under her command, she was not at all sure what to do with him.

His gaze lifted to hers and the power shifted. Now it was equal, weighted between them and drawing them together. She no longer questioned what to do.

They collided at the same time, their wet shirts sticking to one another. His body was warm beneath the cold cotton. Warm and hard, and impossible to resist.

His hand cupped her neck, the pressure strong and unrelenting. There would be no escaping him. Not that she wanted to. She let her gaze fall briefly to his lips before gazing into his eyes. Any breath she had left in her body vanished in a puff of smoke.

Patience looped her hands around his neck.

"Christ, what are you doing to me?" he asked, the words gruff and raw.

She had no time to answer. Even if she did, she would not know how to respond. His lips came down upon her slightly parted ones. Hot, demanding, passionate. Her eyelids fluttered closed of their own accord and she was lost. Lost to the feel of his body against hers, lost to the way his hands held her close, treasured her, made her feel desirable and beautiful.

His tongue touched hers and she trembled. Her bones had turned to liquid and were it not for his embrace, she would be puddled on the floor like melted ice.

Nate rocked his hips into hers. Any thoughts of her wet shirt, or even his, were long gone. Heat flared through her as though she were standing next to a raging fire. He broke away briefly—long enough to pepper kisses down her neck and nibble her jawline. He left her wanting, panting and needy. His words echoed in her mind. What are you doing to me? What are you doing to me?

What was he doing to her, more like? Every idea of common sense had fled her. The only thoughts that existed were More! and Oh yes, there! and More, more, more! Once his hands began moving up and down her back, she began to move with him, pressing herself into him. An ache that only seemed to worsen gathered between her thighs.

She groaned. He kissed her harder. Patience responded, sweeping her tongue into his mouth. A wild sound tore from Nate and he gripped her hips tight. As he did so, she stumbled back. They toppled together onto the straw. Nate barely gave her a moment to catch her breath. Cushioned by the straw, she accepted the onslaught of his fiery kisses, a moan escaping her as his body covered hers.

"What. Do. You. Do. To. Me?" he asked between kisses once more.

She understood it now. She aroused him. Somehow, she—the eccentric girl who wore breeches and hunted with her brothers and did not know how to embroider—aroused this man. That's what she did to him. And he did the same to her. Every inch of her was alight, desperate for his touch, his kiss.

That same fire burned inside her, making her feel full and wonderful. Her heart stretched with each peppered kiss against her skin. She eyed the beams above for a moment to try to get herself centered and ensure this was really happening. And it was.

Nathaniel Kingsley had his mouth upon her neck, his hand on one breast. He moved atop her, rubbing against her in a way that mimicked everything she wanted from him. She did not even have to cast her mind back to know she had never felt this before. The desperation building inside should have been terrifying but it wasn't, not when she was sharing it with Nate.

He plucked a button, opening her shirt a fraction. Hot breath whispered over the curve of her breasts. She could feel them rising and falling against her undergarments. Nate eased back just enough to eye her.

She could imagine the picture she made—sprawled on the straw, her hair wild, her shirt open. She could imagine it and she could see herself in his eyes. She, Patience Grey, was beautiful, and powerful, and sensual. She with her boyish waist and short legs, was enchanting even.

From the look in Nate's eyes she was right. Goodness, so this is what it felt like to be a beautiful woman? She was almost heady from the experience.

"Patience, Patience, Patience," he murmured, returning to cover her body with his. His lips tickled across the tops of her breasts, making her nipples ache and throb.

She arched instinctively into him and he hooked a hand beneath her back.

"Beautiful Patience," he whispered and the words danced a pattern of breath across her skin. "Beautiful, beautiful Patience. Christ, no wonder I never stood a chance."

"What...what do you mean?" she managed to croak.

She regretted the words when he moved up onto his elbow to look down at her. However, she could not resist lifting a palm to touch his cheek and push aside a strand of hair that had dropped across his forehead. To touch him so freely left her feeling tingly inside.

"You're bewitching, Patience."

"You had better not say that in public. It would not be a stretch of the imagination for people to think me a real witch."

He chuckled. "Perhaps you are." Nate dropped a kiss on her lips and rose back up. "Will you call it off?"

A wash of coldness tumbled over her as though she had been dunked in the trough once more. "You must," she insisted.

"I will not."

"Nor will I."

He grinned. It was the usual charming, heart-wrenching grin that he often threw her way yet there was something different to it. As though he had not summoned it to charm her but he genuinely could not keep it from spreading across his lips.

"Then it looks as though we are getting married."

Staring at him, she frowned. He said the words so matter-of-factly, as if he were talking of them going for a stroll or having dinner. As if it would not change both their lives irrevocably.

"We do not have to if you simply stop being stubborn and call it off."

He gave a shrug. "I will not call it off. You will not call it off. I see no other way to end this other than us getting married."

She blinked several times as she searched her mind for a response. "But...but...why would you not break it off?" It made no sense. She had been certain he would do it eventually, at least before the banns were read. There was no chance Nate would let this farce continue. Once he was back in society—or what little society there was in Penshallow—he would forget about her and be more than happy to say he had made a mistake and he wished to move on.

"Would us marrying be so terrible?"

Suddenly his proximity was too much. He took her mind and whirled it around, made her unable to think. She wriggled to get free from him and he shrugged and eased away. Patience drew her legs up and looped her arms around them.

"You cannot possibly want me for your wife?"

"Why ever not?"

"Because...because I am not wifely material."

He ran his gaze over her, reminding her of her disheveled state. She clutched her blouse together and stood. He followed suit which made her wish she had stayed sitting. Now he had the advantage of height and handsomeness. His shirt remained plastered to him so she could not forget the strength and beauty of that body that had been pressed against her.

"Patience, you are more than wifely material. You are courageous, intelligent, funny, and sensual."

Sensual. That was a word she had never heard describe her. Then again, she was not sure she had heard any of the others either. Eccentric, yes. Strange, certainly. Stubborn and aggravating too. But none of those.

She eyed him, hunting for some sign of a lie or ulterior motive behind the flattery. She could find none.

Nate extended his hand. "Come, I shall find you a dry shirt. No doubt it shall be too big for you but hopefully none shall notice once you have your riding jacket back on."

Patience swallowed against the dryness in her mouth and nodded. He could not truly want her, could he? Yet, as unconvinced as she was, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her into the house.

∞∞∞

Any relief Nate felt at Patience agreeing to remain vanished when Red greeted him at the house with a grim expression. His brother's expression barely flickered at their damp state.

"You have a visitor. Patience's brother Jacob. I have put him in the blue drawing room."

Patience threw a puzzled glance his way but before she could question her brother's arrival, Hannah scurried in. Red's pretty fiancé clapped a hand over her mouth. "What happened to you two? It did not rain today, did it?" She paused when she spotted Patience's embarrassed expression. "Well, these things happen. Believe me, I should know."

A spark of amusement danced between Red and Hannah. Nate had not been appraised of everything that had happened during their time together only weeks before but Red had confessed Hannah had ended up soaked to the skin at one point and was forced to strip to her chemise. It had been that moment that had ruined him forever, his brother confessed.

"Come with me and I shall find you a change of clothes." Hannah held out her hand expectantly.

Patience gave Nate a helpless look and took Hannah's hand. Once they were out of earshot, he leaned into Red. "I can assume this is not a friendly visit, can I not?"

His brother shrugged. "I cannot say but Jacob did not look best pleased."

"Well, best get this over and done with."

He strode to the blue drawing room and pushed open the door. Nate briefly considered sitting but decided against it. If this were taking place in a bar or a darkened alleyway, he would be preparing himself for a fight. Jacob eyed him, arms folded.

Nate forwent any formal greetings. He knew what this was about. "I take it Pauline is deposited safely."

"She is."

"The leg causing you any trouble?"

Jacob's jaw flexed.

"Come on, Jacob, out with it."

Jacob took several steps forward and thrust a finger in his face. "You need to call this off with Patience. You know this was never meant to turn into a real damned marriage."

Nate cocked his head. "Harry seems happy with the match."

"Harry thought she'd never find anyone. He'd be happy if she married a pig-farmer. He seems willing to ignore your past…behavior."

"And what sort of behavior is that?" Nate crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

"The flirting, the tupping, hell, even the smuggling. My sister deserves better."

Nate nodded slowly. "I see. So I was good enough to ask for help. Good enough to aid you in the past, even, but not good enough for your sister."

"You will call this off, Nate," Jacob demanded. "Call this off or I'll tell her."

"I cannot."

Jacob peered at him. "Why not?"

"I love her," he said simply.

Patience's brother stared at him for several moments. "How is it you have gone from begging me to save you from my sister to falling in love with her?"

Nate released a quick laugh. "I was not begging you to save me from her. I was begging you to save her from herself. If you did not arrive when you did, I may not have been able to protect her."

"From yourself you mean?"

Jacob's hand curled around his neck in moments. Finger pressed deep into his skin, making his face hot and his neck hurt. Nate held up his hands. He would not hurt Patience's brother nor would he fight an injured man.

"I love her, Jacob," he repeated, the words strangled.

"You were going to tup her. Had I not interfered, you would have taken her to bed, that's what you're saying, is it not? All this talk in your letter of her being too wild, too dangerous for the mission, was nonsense."

Nate would have laughed again if he could have, but the pressure on his neck remained and was beginning to send his vision a little blurry. "Well, she is wild."

"Damn it, Nate. I expected better from you." Jacob released him suddenly and thrust him back.

Nate took the moment to draw in a breath and adjust his cravat. "I love your sister. I mean that. Hell, I probably loved her even when I wrote to you. But I didn't know that then. All I knew was that I needed to protect her. I did not trust her not to make rash decisions."

Jacob curled a fist and Nate lifted both hands in a placating move.

"And not about me, I swear it."

Nate inwardly cursed himself for his cowardly move. He should have talked her out of going with Pauline but the truth was, he was terrified she'd go and then what? He'd be left without her.

Damn. Even then he'd been in love with her. He just had not realized it.

"You're a damned animal, Nate," Jacob spat. "How am I to believe you feel differently about my sister to any other woman you've bedded?"

Nate lifted a brow. "You're hardly an innocent."

"This is my sister we are speaking of," Jacob snapped. "I don't give a damn what my past is. The only one that matters is yours."

Nodding, Nate sighed. "I know." He pushed a hand through his hair. "I know. I have been no angel. Heck, I've been worse than that. But I want to marry Patience, and I want to make this a good marriage. I want to devote every waking hour to her." He laughed at himself. "I want that woman more than I've ever wanted anything and I would never, never hurt her. I swear to you, all I want to do is make her happy."

Jacob turned away briefly and paced past the fireplace then back again. "That better be true. You have always been one for the ladies but you were never a liar. I hope that has not changed."

"I swear it."

"Well, then, I suppose…" Jacob drew in a breath and exhaled it slowly. "I suppose you have my blessing." He held out a hand.

A door slammed before Nate could shake it. He turned to see the drawing room door ajar and his gaze connected with Hannah's. He pushed open the door. "Was that Patience?"

Hannah nodded. "I am sorry, Nate. She overheard your conversation. I could not draw her away."

He dashed past her into the secondary drawing room and glanced out of the window. Sure enough, Patience was already mounting her horse. By the time he caught up with her, she would be long gone.

"Where will she be going?" he demanded of Jacob.

Her brother shrugged.

"I need my horse."

Jacob put a hand to his shoulder. "If I were you, let her be. You know what her temper is like. Give her a while then go to her. Tell her everything you told me. If that does not work, then I do not know what will."

Nate pressed his palms against the windowsill and watched her set off at a gallop. His heart pounded so hard in his chest he feared he'd crack a rib. Damn him. Damn his idiocy. Damn him for not understanding sooner how he felt about her. Why had he not been honest? Damn, damn, damn.