'Of course you do,' she argued. 'You have the town-house. I saw it once when I was out for a ride in… why are you shaking your head at me?'
'My townhouse was burned to the ground last year.'
'No one told me!'
He shrugged.
'I should have sent the message to your country home, then,' she said. 'All right,' she added in a mutter. 'Now why are you shaking your head?'
'The country home was also destroyed by fire,' he explained.
'When?'
'Last year,' he answered. 'About a month before my townhouse was gutted.'
She looked appalled. 'You have had your share of mishaps, haven't you, Nathan?'
They weren't mishaps, but he didn't tell her that. The fires had been deliberately set by his enemies. They'd been looking for incriminating letters. Nathan had been working for his government, and at the end of the investigation the bastards had been dealt with, but he hadn't had time to right the damage to his estate just yet.
'You actually wrote to me asking my assistance in locating Nora?' he asked.
She nodded. 'I didn't know who else to turn to,' she admitted. 'I think it was your Uncle Dunnford St. James who was behind this trickery,' she added.
'Which trickery?' he asked.
'He probably intercepted the missive you sent to my parents.'
He let her see his exasperation. 'I think it was your father who was behind that scheme.'
'And just why would you think that?'
'Because Attila the Hun's been dead for years,' he said. 'And your father is the only other man mean enough to come up with such a vile plan.'
'I won't listen to such slander against my father. Besides, I'm just as certain it was Dunnford.'
'Oh? And is he the one who beat your aunt?'
Her eyes immediately filled with tears. He regretted his question at once. She turned to stare at his chest before answering. 'No,' she whispered. 'That was the work of my Uncle Henry. He's the one you saw inside the tavern the other night. And now you know the truth about me,' she ended with a pitiful wail.
Nathan lifted her chin up with the crook of his finger. His thumb rubbed her smooth skin. 'What truth?'
She stared into his eyes a long minute before answering. 'I come from bad stock.'
She'd hoped to gain a quick denial, even a bit of praise.
'Aye, you do.'
The man didn't have a sympathetic bone in his body, she thought. 'Well, so do you,' she muttered. She pushed his hand away from her chin. 'We really shouldn't have children.'
'Why not?'
'Because they could end up turning out like my Uncle Henry. Worse, they could behave like your side of the family. Even you have to admit that the St. James men are all mean-looking and just as mean-hearted. They're villains,' she added with a nod. 'Every last one of them.'
He wouldn't admit to any such thing, of course, and he made his position known at once. 'For all their rough behavior, they're damned honest. You know when you've got them riled. They're very straightforward.'
'Oh, they're straightforward, all right,' she countered.
'What's that supposed to mean?'
She knew she was getting him riled up again, but she didn't care. 'Your Uncle Dunnford was straightforward when he shot his own brother, wasn't he?'
'So you heard about that, did you?' He tried hard not to smile. Sara looked so disapproving.
'Everyone heard about it. The incident took place on the steps of his townhouse in the middle of the morning, with witnesses strolling by.'
Nathan shrugged. 'Dunnford had good reason,' he drawled.
'To shoot his brother?' She sounded incredulous.
He nodded.
'And what was his reason?' she asked.
'His brother woke him up.'
She was waylaid by his sudden grin. He was back to looking handsome to her. She found herself smiling.
'Dunnford didn't kill his brother,' Nathan explained. 'He just made it a little inconvenient for him to sit for a couple of weeks. When you meet him, you'll-'
'I did meet him once,' Sara interrupted. She was suddenly out of breath. The way he was staring at her made her feel so strange inside. 'I met his wife, too.'
She was still smiling at him. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. He took heart. She wasn't acting at all afraid of him. He tried to think of a way to bring the topic around to the most important matter in his mind: bedding her.
He was gently rubbing her shoulders in an absentminded fashion. Sara didn't think he was even aware of what he was doing, for he had a faraway look in his eyes. She thought he might be thinking about his relatives.
She wanted him to rub away the sting at the base of her back, and since he was looking so preoccupied she decided to take advantage of his inattention. She moved his right hand to her spine. 'Rub there, Nathan. My back aches from moving the furniture.'
He didn't argue over her request. He simply did as she asked. He wasn't very gentle until she told him to ease his touch a little. Then she moved both his hands to the base of her spine. When he began to rub there she leaned against him and closed her eyes. It felt like heaven.
'Better?' he asked after a few minutes of listening to her sighs.
'Yes, better,' she agreed.
He didn't stop rubbing her back, and she didn't want him to. 'When did you meet Dunnford?' he asked. His chin dropped to rest on the top of her head. He inhaled her sweet, feminine scent.
'I met him at the gardens,' she answered. 'Both your uncle and your aunt were there. It was a frightening experience I shall never forget.'
He chuckled. 'Dunnford does look like a barbarian,' he said. He slowly pulled her closer to him by pressing against her spine. She didn't resist. 'My uncle's a big man, muscular. He's given to bulk in his shoulders. Yes, I suppose he could be a little frightening.'
'So is his wife,' Sara interjected with a smile. 'I couldn't tell them apart.'
He pinched her backside for being so insolent. 'Dunnford has a mustache.'
'So does she.'
He pinched her again. 'The St. James women aren't as fat as the Winchester women,' he countered.
'The Winchester ladies are not fat,' she argued. 'They're just… fit.'
It was high time they confronted the true issue here, she decided. She took a deep breath, then said, 'Nathan?'
'Yes?'
'I'm not going to take my clothes off.'
That announcement got his full attention. 'You're not?'
She moved back a fraction of an inch so she could see his expression. His smile was slow, easy. It gave her courage to set down the rest of her rules. 'No, I'm not,' she said. 'If we must do this thing, I'm keeping my clothes on. Take it or leave it, Nathan.'
She worried her lower lip while she waited for his reaction. Nathan thought she might be frightened again. That chafed him. 'For God's sake, Sara, I'm not going to hurt you.'
'Yes, you will,' she whispered.
'And just how would you know?'
'Mother said it always hurts.' Sara's cheeks turned scarlet.
'It doesn't always hurt,' he snapped. 'The first time might be a little… uncomfortable.'
'You just contradicted yourself,' she cried out.
'You don't have to act as though-'
