Nicholas Bargain Ch 06

Seated at the foot of the stairs, Amelia watched the front door impatiently, her eyes slipping away briefly to consult the grandfather clock adjacent.

According to a maid, her mother had whisked Lara off a good two hours ago for a little pre-wedding sojourn with the demon. Tea at the Ritz, the maid had gushingly added, clearly half in love with '

the wonderful Lord Armel'

herself. If only the silly twit knew. If Amelia wasn't so heartsick, she'd laugh at the utter civility and

ordinariness

of it all.

She'd arrived in London a few hours ago to be greeted by a quiet townhouse. It had perturbed her. She wasn't precisely sure what she'd expected on her arrival but the lack of activity that had met her only seemed to unsettle her all the more - but calmness and clarity of mind were the two things she desperately needed right now: should the next few hours go accordingly, the demon would be out of their lives for good.

Lord Nicholas Armel

. Amelia considered his moniker with a sneer. From the frenetic research she'd carried out over the past few weeks, she'd discerned a few things about Lara's affianced: firstly that the name

Armel

roughly translated to 'prince' in French -

how fitting

,

how arrogant of him

she'd scorned in derision when her researcher had shown him her findings. Secondly, that there was indeed an aristocratic Armel family, an ancient one hailing from Rouen, to be exact, but there her researcher had shrugged with the disappointment of an enthusiastic scholar that there was currently no 'Nicholas' he could trace amongst them. Amelia rather thought that the demon had simply plucked the name out of the air to amuse himself. But other than these scant discoveries, she was little better off that she had been. Cole, too, knew little of the demon but he had given her an impressive list of the demon's social connections. Many people seemingly

knew

of Lord Armel but very few people knew him well. Lord Armel was acquainted with the highest peers of the realm: dukes, earls, and everyone in between. Since his grand appearance -- however long ago -- Mamas wanted him as a son-in-law; bachelors on the hunt for a wife saw him as competition. In all, her research told her nothing she'd not already known: Lord Nicholas Armel was admired and revered. He fascinated the ton with his close-lipped manner. He ensnared them.

A footman suddenly appeared from nowhere, bringing Amelia out of her bitter musings. He hurried to accommodate the three figures entering the marble floored foyer and when, at last, Lara came into view, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with the kind of secret gleam Amelia knew all too well, for a brief moment she considered conceding defeat - for

that

was what she had to battle against: that look in Lara's eyes which told of an undefinable

something

that she herself knew all too well. She had experienced the same dreamy state, of course, with Cole Morely. That look was more than simple lust but not quite love, although love Cole Amelia certainly had, and she was certain that Lara believed herself in love with the demon. But lust and love were commonplace enough. It was not lust or love Amelia had to contend with here but an emotion far more violent. In the grand scheme, what she'd had with Cole seemed to pale in significance for Cole Morely was a mere man. Oh, he had caused her an ocean of heartache but she'd survived, hadn't she? She was still here, still functioning. She still hurt but it was more a raw burn now that time had worked its magic. But Lord Armel was no mere man. He had the power to destroy Lara.

"Well, I'm certainly pleased you came to your senses and at the last minute, too -- but don't think for a moment I'm

pleased

with you," came her mother's surprised tones, and Amelia glanced across at the her with thinly veiled loathing but her mother either missed the distain or ignored it, turning back to her entourage, her tones now light and teasing.

"And my lord - whilst I'm warmed by your adoration for my niece, there is much to be done before tomorrow's union -- not to mention bad luck seeing her today! Not that I believe in such nonsense mind. Still, you'll be bound for all eternity in mere hours -- for heaven's sake, indulge us, if you please, by making yourself scarce!"

"Of course - a then moment to say farewell, if you permit?"

Amelia shuddered at the smoothly delivered reply, the compelling cadence of the voice, her eyes trained on the polished floorboards like an evasive child fearfully hiding from an imagined gremlin

-- if I don't look at It, maybe It won't be real after all.

"You may use my husband's study for privacy. I was a young bride too, after all. Well, my lord -- until tomorrow. Now, you-"

Amelia blinked as her mother closed in on her, blocking Lara and her demon from sight. Ignoring the woman's critical eyes as they ran over her travel worn state, Amelia was set to make her excuses and put as much distance between herself and demon before she made a mess of herself and vomited over her mother's silk gown when she heard her mother admonish in low tones:

"I hope I'm correct in believing you're here to make things right - don't upset your cousin any more than you already have. I don't know the reason behind your fallout and quite frankly, I've no

wish

to know. Well?"

Murmuring a placating response, Amelia's gaze passed her mother and stopped on Lara as she moved across the hallway on the arm of her brooding beau.

"And you'll need to decide upon your gown for tomorrow, Amelia. I've had a few made up for you -- Emma can make alterations if needed. Amelia?"

Waving off her mother's words, Amelia stepped past her, still resolutely refusing to make eye-contact or acknowledge the demon in away, feeling her mother's disapproving eyes scoring her at her lack of greeting to the beast.

"Even though I desperately wanted you to be here, I didn't think..." Lara trailed off, her eyes filming with moisture.

"Well, I could hardly stay away for the society wedding of the year, could I?" Amelia lifted a shoulder and offered a small smile. "Anyway, I shall be in the library. When you've finished -- when you've a moment, I'd like for us to talk."

"I'd like that," Lara concurred on a swift nod, before glancing up at the spectre at her side.

What his reaction to her presence was, Amelia neither knew nor cared.

On a serene smile, she turned and made her way to the library, cursing the demon back to the hole he'd climbed from with each step. With any luck, that would be true enough if her plan succeeded.

*

"Nicholas -- was it you? Did

you

arrange this?"

Carefully watching the myriad of emotions washing over her face, Nicholas shook his head.

True, he'd not spared an expense for tomorrow's useless union, wanting to please her above all else, and whilst he had known that her sister's presence tomorrow would have pleased her above all of the other frivolities involved with the wedding, he'd been glad of the discord between the two for the sister was a toxic thing -- unpredictable and vengeful. It was in her eyes, the set of her shoulders. She loathed him with a violent bitterness that impressed him.

He sighed pensively at the thought, wondering at her presence here; what she hoped to achieve between now and tomorrow. Circling the room until he reached the handsome wooden desk engulfing the study, he slipped into the leather chair behind it.

"You know, of course, that she's here only to turn you against me," Nicholas stated then.

"That would be nothing new," Lara said after a moment, her tone careful. "She hasn't succeeded so far -- I'm afraid I know the darkest thing about you, my lord, and more fool me, I'm still clinging on for dear life."

"But you care about her good opinion," Nicholas pointed out, persistent, as she took a seat opposite.

"This room holds memories I'd always thought I'd rather forget. I dream about this study. When you left, I dreamed about it constantly. Of you."

"Touching, but you're avoiding the issue."

"Well I didn't say they were overly

fond

memories," Lara smiled widely, and rising from the chair, hurried around the table and placed herself firmly on his lap, tugging at the hair at his nape, pressing kisses across his jaw whilst she laughingly complained of his surliness.

Everything within him loosening at her nearness, he buried his face into her neck and sighed wistfully, his prior thoughts easing slightly. "Would that we could leave your world this very moment and return to my own -- I want you all to myself and tomorrow I must share you with half of England."

"A rather exaggerated fraction. And didn't you hear my aunt out there?

Eternity

, Nicholas. From now until the end of days! Let's discuss this in a few years and see if you're still singing the same tune -- most couples can't even bear the sight of one another after a few years and yet you're saddled with me for-"

Silencing her saucy mouth with a thorough kiss, Nicholas pulled away reluctantly, lifting the slight burden in his arms as he stood before depositing her to the carpet and laughing at the displeased look upon his mate's face on ending the kiss. "I do believe I've made a minx of you."

Imprisoning the fingers that tiptoed across his chest towards his shoulders, Nicholas brought them to his lips and kissed them briefly, laughingly admonishing, "Would you have me take you right here for one of those insipid maids to chance upon?"

Throwing him a look of challenge, Lara marched across the study towards the table, her stride determined, before returning to him, a key in her hands, and she made short work of locking them securely into the room.

"You were saying?" she arched a dark brow before pulling him forcibly towards her, her clutching hands full of his jacket, her mouth an eager pout as she unsuccessfully attempted to meet his great height and bring his lips to hers.

On a groan of supplication, Nicholas gave in, despite his prior avowal to leave her untouched until tomorrow, wanting to do everything by the book, but he was once again surprised as she stayed his right hand as it moved to her hips.

"There's something I've been wondering about...for a while now," Lara said, smiling into Nicholas' sceptical face, and without further ado, she dropped to her knees and attempted to loosen his trousers, frowning at the cumbersome fastenings.

Sounding rather stunned, Nicholas uttered above her, "This -- this is madness...your

aunt

-"

"You sound like an outraged duenna! Aunt Cecilia would be the

last

person to judge - didn't you hear her? She knows

exactly

what has passed between us," Lara glanced up meaningfully as Nicholas ran a quick hand through his hair, his expression showing hesitation that turned sharply to lust as she finally freed the clasp of his trousers, taking him in her hand.

Biting her lip, she held him tentatively before moving her hand up the full length of his hardness, shivering in anticipation as he jerked in response. She laughed as she noted his tightened fists hanging awkwardly at his sides, at his tight expression, his eyes looking straight ahead. Always the picture of negligent calm -- that is, when he wasn't completely stoic -- she found his frustrated reaction to her thrilling.

Still, although Amelia had regaled her with countless stories of this particular intimacy over the years, being faced -- literally -- with the reality was somewhat...daunting. But despite her uncertainty, Lara felt wetness gather between her thighs at having Nicholas so still and acquiescent before her, not to mention the evidence of his desire for her.

As she ran an explorative finger over a vein, Nicholas swore above her, and one of his hands settled in her hair, gentle despite his crude blasphemy. Following her finger with her tongue, she tasted him leisurely, becoming bolder as she continued pressing kisses and licks onto his hot flesh. The hand fingering hanks of her hair soon settled, bringing her closer, guiding her, and Lara slowly took the tip of him into her mouth, tasting the drop of fluid that beaded there -- but as she made to repeat the movement, eager to taste him properly, Nicholas pulled away from her harshly and held out a hand for her, helping her unsteadily to her feet.

"What is it?" Lara murmured, her voice slurred with passion. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Nicholas' voice was hoarse, his eyes over-bright as they roamed over her. "Damn it all," he cursed then, bending low to press his face into her neck whilst pressing his hardness into the cradle of her thighs, and Lara reacted shamelessly, her channel clenching in need.

In less time than it had taken her, his hand was under the skirts of her dress, roaming up her legs, slipping into her draws until he touched bare skin and hot wetness.

He walked her back until she came up against the door of the study, his hand still resting between her legs.

"Undo your bodice," he ordered then, the command low and arrogant, and Lara blindly obeyed, her hands clumsy as she freed herself.

Without any of her prior hesitation, he bend and sucked at her nipples, the sensation almost painful in its pressure, and Lara felt that wonderful quickness building within her. As he moved to her other breast, he thrust his fingers inside her, and she only just managed to withhold the scream of pleasure he wrought in her.

Getting closer and closer to falling apart in his arms, she pressed him to her, needing more contact, more pressure, her hands grabbing his hair, caressing his scalp, urging him to take her even deeper into his working mouth and he complied readily, increasing the tempo of his thrusting fingers until the only sounds in the room were her gasping breaths and his hand pleasuring her below, his mouth above.

She came swiftly on a soundless scream, her body limp and held upright only by the support of Nicholas' hand. He smiled a cat's smile as he watched her, lifting his other hand towards his mouth, the fingers glistening with her wetness before they disappeared between his lips.

"But you -- you haven't-" Lara said as he buttoned her up again, staring meaningfully at his hardness.

Nicholas righted himself swiftly, the slight look of dishevelment to his person making him even more devastating were it possible.

Opening the study door, he escorted her out, and murmured in parting, "And I don't intend to -- not until tomorrow when you're mine in the eyes of your lord as well as my own. You had best enjoy a long night's sleep tonight for you'll not get one hereafter."

And with that, he left.

*

"Have -- well, is everything prepared for tomorrow? Your dress and all the other fripperies?" Amelia began once Lara had taken a seat beside her in the musty library.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, your mother has taken charge, organising almost everything. We've both missed you...would you like to see it? The dress?"

Inwardly cringing at the invitation, Amelia shook her head. "I want to be surprised. Seeing as how you're already attired for an outing, what's say we head over to Claridges for some lunch? Lucinda tells me you had tea at the Ritz but if you've already lunched..."

Lara shook her head. "I'm starved."

"Perhaps we can traipse about the Burlington Arcade, after? Like...like-"

"Just like we used to, bribing a coachman to take us unchaperoned all over London? Well, I say

we

when it was always

you

," Lara smiled uncertainly, proffering her olive branch.

Amelia grabbed at it swiftly. "Well, if I'd left it down to you, we'd never have left the townhouse. We had fun, didn't we?"

"I was too concerned at the prospect of discovery and the thrashing that would result should we be caught by my duenna to have fun," Lara shook her head.

"Well, we're no longer younglings...you'll be a married woman, come tomorrow. You'll be permitted to do...whatever you choose. Well?" Amelia pressed, nodding towards the door.

Lara smiled. "Very well - only this time, let me to the bribing."

*

It was all going to be well, now that Amelia was here. It would have cut deeply had it been otherwise, but Lara had come to accept Amelia's objections, however painful. As per Nicholas' dictates, their wedding tomorrow would be a large, frivolous affair. The guest list consisted of a reel of noble families Lara had never even heard of, let alone met, although she was sure her aunt had connections, however brief, to most of them. Lara didn't care one whit for any of them but now that Amelia would be there, she felt calmer, felt she could handle the pressure of tomorrow's charade.

The society wedding of the year!

The Times

had labelled it.

When she objected to the ostentatiousness of it all, Nicholas had been stubborn, insisting that if it were to be done at all, it would be done properly. In fact, the theatrics and sheer scale of the wedding seemed to amuse him. To him, the ceremony meant absolutely nothing - a silly ritual prized by her people- and Lara, too, found it rather ridiculous considering everything that has passed between them. But it was necessary were they to live together before society. Ha, if the ton only knew the truth of it all! Still, the very fact that Nicholas was indulging her pleased her immeasurably. He was trying his very best to be proper, to do right by her, as much as it must rankle him.

The journey to Mayfair was short and Amelia managed to nab a well-appointed table despite the queue of waiting patrons.

"You know, I've been a little lonely lately as Nicholas-" Lara paused, Amelia's suddenly stiffened form at his name a terrible start to their afternoon, "that is to say, he's been a little busy. And your mother is lovely, of course, but she can be a

little

tiring. What I mean to say is, I've missed this. Your company."

"I suppose it's something we'll both have to accept - after all when you marry-"

"Oh, but we'll only be streets apart!"

Amelia cringed but said nothing. Her perturbed eyes, however, soon moved past Lara and she rose.

"Abigail -- won't you join us?"

Casting a curious glance over her shoulder, Lara took in the slim woman standing hesitantly behind her. Amelia waved down a passing server who quickly procured an additional chair for Amelia's acquaintance and gestured at the large plate of sandwiches before them. "Do help yourself-"

"No -- no, please, I'm quite alright. I had a big lunch, you see, and I feel I over did it a bit."

Lara frowned, trying to place her accent, and waited for Amelia to introduce her. Her rather loose and slightly careworn dress suggested that she'd be out of place amongst Amelia's usual friendship set.

"Lara, this is Abigail. A friend," Amelia said after a leisurely sip of her tea.

"I see. How lovely to meet you...you're staying here at Claridges?"

The girl nodded before looking towards Amelia, almost in expectation for further instruction, Lara thought on a frown.

"May I ask where you know one another from?" Lara probed, stirring listlessly at her own tea, an uneasy feeling settling low in her belly but why, she hardly knew. The girl was completely inoffensive and Amelia had always been a social butterfly with an eclectic range of acquaintances.

"I knew her father," Amelia dismissed. "You did, too, as it so happens."

Lara arched an encouraging brow but Amelia merely presented her with her profile, looking toward her friend who nodded once before saying,

"Yes, papa - he died when I was small...I know so little about him. But Uncle Ethan often tells me stories of when they were lads. Miss Amelia contacted me recently," she said after a pause, before turning to 'Miss Amelia' with eyes shining with gratitude, "I must thank you again for all that you've done."