It had only been a week since he had bid Noelle farewell, but to Pierce it felt like an eternity. He hadn’t planned on seeing her for yet another week but knew he couldn’t hold out that long. The first few days she had been gone he had kept himself busy instructing the servants to freshen up the chapel and making preparations for their wedding trip to France but he quickly realized that no amount of busyness could keep his desire to be with her at bay. He impulsively decided to return to London and surprise her, spending the entire trip fantasizing about how delicious it would be to hold her soft body in his arms and kiss her pert mouth as he inhaled her fresh scent.
Due to their late start, they didn’t arrive in London until well past an appropriate hour to pay a call to the Brattondale’s so Pierce instructed his driver to take him directly to his townhouse on Grosvenor Square for the night where he slept fitfully, much too anxious to be reunited with Noelle.
The following morning Pierce was up early. Tucker had helped dress him in tan breeches and a dark brown tailcoat, his cravat expertly tied in the mathematical before he left the house whistling in anticipation for the day ahead. He walked the few blocks from his house to Noelle’s and when he arrived the butler showed him into the drawing room where he could wait for Noelle. He sat down on the rose colored settee and smiled at the remembrance of the first day he had called on the Earl of Brattondale with the intention of meeting his future wife and the encounter with Noelle that ensued.
The memory of her in her white day dress with her hair cascading down around her in untamed rivers of honey made him even more eager to see her, to touch her. He looked up expectantly as Noelle and Esther walked into the room, quickly coming to his feet and closing the distance between them. He smiled at her, his dark eyes sparkling with merriment.
Noelle watched as the duke smiled charmingly at her revealing straight, white teeth. He was every bit as handsome as everyone had said he was, but she couldn’t help comparing him to Soren, to the handsome American who had stolen her heart. The duke was taller and broader than Soren, but where his eyes held a gleam of wickedness, Soren’s emerald eyes had always seemed to sparkle with barely contained laughter. As she stood assessing the duke and comparing him endlessly to Soren, her heart ached anew with the fresh grief of her loss and she tried to remind herself that that part of her life was in the past and had to stay that way forever. It would be best if she forgot about Soren completely and embraced this new life, this new man standing in front of her.
Pierce reached for her hand and brought it to his lips where he placed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist, allowing his lips to linger longer than what was deemed appropriate. Noelle couldn’t help herself as she recoiled inwardly at his overly familiar touch. She pulled her hand back suddenly when she found she could no longer bare his touch. When Soren touched her she felt nothing repulsive, only tingly, like every nerve was on fire and alert to his every movement. When the duke touched her she just felt flat.
Pierce squinted his eyes and looked at her, her aloofness bothering him greatly, especially after being apart for so long. He wished there was some way he could get Esther to leave them for a time so he could pull her into his arms and kiss her as he had been envisioning doing for the last week.
“I know I said I wouldn’t be here for another week but I found I couldn’t stay away from you any longer, love.”
Love? Apparently he and Hope had grown more comfortable than she realized. She knew she’d have to set him straight, for she didn’t want him to expect more from her than she was willing to give. “That’s nice of you to come all this way to see me but I really must get going, I have an appointment with my dressmaker and don’t want to be late.”
Noelle’s attempt to dismiss Pierce confused him. Was this the same girl who had so reluctantly parted with him back at Ridgecrest Manor? He looked at her closely and noticed the way she avoided looking into his eyes, the way she stood with her arms crossed rigidly across her chest as if she was impatiently waiting for him to leave. Well if she thought that was the case, she had another thing coming.
Turning to Esther he said, “Esther, would you mind fetching a pelisse for Noelle? It’s a little chilly out and I’d hate for her to catch a chill.”
“But your grace, it wouldn’t be proper for me to—”
“Now, Esther.” He ground out between clenched teeth.
“Yes your grace,” she said as she scurried out of the room to do his bidding.
The minute they were alone, Pierce wasted no time. He stepped forward and pulled Noelle into his arms, “Oh how I’ve missed you, my minx.” He bent his head and eagerly found her lips and kissed her with all of the pent up passion he possessed. He was so distracted by the feel of her soft lips at first that he failed to notice that she wasn’t responding, or for that matter that he wasn’t experiencing the same tidal wave of passion he had previously experienced either. When the fog of desire finally cleared from his mind he realized that she stood stiff and unyielding in his arms. Never before when he had kissed her, not even that first time in this very same room, had she ever been so unresponsive and never before had he felt such lack of passion, it was as if there was no emotion involved when they touched. He heard an alarm sound in his head as he pulled back to gaze into her amber eyes; eyes that usually sparkled with life were now dull and unwelcoming.
Pierce dropped his hands from her person as if he had been burned and took a step back, “I’m sorry…it’s just that I…” he stammered.
“Yes,” Noelle replied coolly, “I trust you will not allow it to happen again before we are properly married.”
Pierce reeled back as if she had slapped him. Where had his passionate Noelle gone? The girl who so eagerly and hungrily partook of his kisses with an intoxicating mixture of innocence and barely contained passion?
“What’s the matter Noelle? Has something happened?”
Noelle could see in his face that he was genuinely concerned for her. She didn’t have the heart to hurt his feelings and instead opted to tell a small lie, “I am just not feeling well.”
“Why didn’t you say so? Shall I ring for tea?”
“No, no, I think I just need to lie down for awhile. If you wouldn’t mind sending word to the dressmaker that I won’t be able to keep my appointment then I think I’ll just go lay down. Thanks for the visit and have a nice day.” And with that she hurried out of the room, leaving a stunned Pierce gaping after her.
The disappointment that invaded his mind and heart at the reunion wouldn’t ebb. He felt sick inside as he thought back on their past encounters, on the fiery passion that they had shared. He thought about how unassuming and likeable Noelle had been at Ridgecrest manor and the lively badinage they had engaged in. She had been so different from any other woman he had ever known but today she felt like a stranger. The concern he felt on her behalf was immense and so he quickly took leave of her house hoping to find a way to distract himself from his fretting.
Pierce walked agitatedly back to his townhouse where he instructed his groom to ready his carriage so he could drive into town. His first order of business was to purchase a large bouquet of pink roses to be sent over to Noelle. The light, delicate shade of pink reminded him of the color of her soft creamy skin after he had thoroughly kissed her. He had to keep reminiscing on their time together in the country to reassure himself that nothing was terribly amiss, that her sudden alteration in behavior was truly due to illness and not something more formidable.
Next he drove to Oxford Street to make a purchase he had been contemplating ever since Noelle had told him of her penchant for writing. He alighted from his carriage and strolled into Gillow’s to pick out a Bonheur du jour for Noelle. It didn’t take him long to pick out the perfect writing desk for her; the dainty George III desk was made out of a rich mahogany imported from the West Indies and featured a central section bookshelf flanked by two cupboards veneered in tulip wood. The drawers featured turned brass handles and th
e desk sat atop elegant squared tapering legs mounted on brass castors. It was perfect—the desk radiated an air of elegance and beauty that reminded him of Noelle. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he presented it to her.
After purchasing the desk and instructing it to be delivered to his townhouse on Grosvenor Square he left hoping to find something to distract him from the persistent ache in his heart that warred with the persistent desire to be with Noelle.