Joan Smith (18 page)

“You know perfectly well what I mean.”

“Yes, I am afraid I do. I must console myself that at least you did not suggest I take a leaf from Horace’s book, and drown my woes in a bottle.”

“Why do you speak of woes? Surely these days  before a man’s wedding should be—
are
some of the happiest days of his life.”

“I, for one, can scarcely contain my joy. And now if you have nothing either sensible or interesting to say, let us go below.”

“No, you do not escape that easily, sir. Are you saying you are unhappy with your engagement?”

“That would be ungentlemanly.”

“So is trying to flirt with me behind Aurelia’s back. I won’t have it, Nick.”

He just smiled softly. “It is hardly necessary for you to tell me you are not ‘that sort of girl,’ dear Jane. Your interest in my behavior is most gratifying. I feared it was only Pel you were determined to reform.”

“You are both incorrigible! I wash my hands of the pair of you.”

“Then may I take it the grand romance with Pel has floundered on the shoals of common sense?”

“There was never any romance to it, as you know very well. I leave the romance to you. And it is pretty clear you will make a botch of it, too, the way you are going about it.”

“I have not Willie’s knack with the ladies. I don’t see him holding your hand as he did when he first arrived. Another interrupted romance?”

“He is not gauche enough to do his courting in public.”

Nick gave her a sharp look. “Meaning he is after you in private? Is that it?”

“Perhaps,” she said insouciantly, although it was not true.

“I thought you had more sense! As if making up to Pel were not bad enough, now you are letting that scoundrel of a Willie dangle after you.”

“It is none of your affair, Nick,” she said, in good humor at his jealousy.

“It ought to be someone’s.”

When she just laughed, Nick realized she had been teasing him. He leaned against the banister, halfway down the grand staircase, with his arms crossed, as if settling in for a discussion. “This love is a difficult business, is it not? It seems neither romance nor common sense by itself is enough. What can the answer be?”

“Celibacy,” she said, and continued on alone, while Nick stood looking after her with a bemused smile on his lips.

“That wasn’t the answer I had in mind,” he called after her.

She refused to acknowledge his parting shot, but being only human, and in love, she did wonder what he meant.

She went and sat with Pel to take her tea, refusing to so much as look at Nick, and thinking of nothing else but him. The group made an early night of it. The Huddleston party was tired from shopping, and Lady Elizabeth was fagged from trying to entertain them. And on top of it all, the Townsends were due to arrive in a few days.

Before retiring, Nick went to the study and wrote a note to Lord Castlereagh about a posting in Paris. He was so eager to proceed with his romance that he sent it off with a footman that very night, with orders that he should await a reply, and ride
ventre à terre
back to Clareview the instant he had the answer. Unfortunately, Lord Castlereagh had gone home to Cray’s Foot for the holiday, and did not receive the letter for a few days.

The few remaining days until the arrival of the Townsends passed in a flurry of activity for the hostess and a good deal of ennui for the guests. Marie said it was as well she and Horace were there to amuse ‘Relia, for it was pretty clear the bridegroom had other things on his mind. This was no snide reference to Jane, but to his work on the estate. If he was not out with his agent, he was at a cattle auction, or at the bank, or in his study.

“You must certainly get him away from Clareview, ‘Relia,” Marie advised. “I had not thought Nick was such a demon for work. He was more attentive in London, before he was sure of winning you. When we get him back to London, you will see more of him. No one works in London. Horace goes for days at a time without darkening the door of his office, you must know. He is such a comfort to me. I always know just where he is.”

Jane was in a state of confusion. It was true Nick no longer behaved like a lover. She thought he should spend more time with his fiancée. He was usually with Aurelia in the evening at least, and appeared to be in good enough spirits, but there was some mystery, or mischief, in him that she could not quite understand. She could not help notice that his first ardor had cooled. His preference was for some activity that included others besides Aurelia and himself. As Aurelia disliked cards, they usually played some childish game with Pel or Willie and herself. She often looked up to find Nick’s dark eyes studying her intently.

Twice he had followed her to the library, and engaged her in a longish conversation. Another time he had sought her out in Lizzie’s private parlor where she was writing letters. That time, as well, he had remained chatting until she suggested he return to his fiancée, as his work left him so little time with Aurelia. There had been nothing loverlike in those few conversations. They had spoken of the days before Nick went to Spain, and of old friends. Once he had told her a little more about his experiences in Spain, but usually the tone had been more nostalgic than anything else. Nick’s seeking her out so often was unsettling, the more so as it gave her so much pleasure.

On the day of the ball, she had to go to the conservatory to speak to James about finding enough blooms to decorate the ballroom and arranging for the removal of the palms to the front hall. Nick had elected to remain at home that day. To prevent Mrs. Huddleston from taking a pet, Jane chose to slip away while Nick was not around, lest he follow her again.

She had not been in the conservatory more than a minute when Nick appeared at the doorway.

“So this is where you are,” he said, coming forward.

“Were you looking for me?” she asked, trying to keep her tone natural. It was not easy when he smiled at her with that bright eagerness glowing in his eyes. “Or is it James you have come to see?”

He didn’t answer the question, but held a palm frond aside and looked around the room. “I like a conservatory in winter,” he said. “It is so warm and moist.”

“Yes, it is pleasant.”

“Where is James?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he has gone out. He was going to cut some fresh mistletoe. The branches we cut are beginning to wilt. Some of the berries are falling.”

Nick took a step closer to her. Sensing danger, she stepped back, brushing against a lemon tree. “Ouch!” she exclaimed as a thorn grazed her fingers.

Nick used it as an excuse to seize her hand and examine it. “It is only a scratch,” she said, swiftly drawing her fingers back.

“I am tame, Jane. I don’t bite,” he said, taking her hand again and gripping it firmly. “You work too hard. You are always busy.”

“My biggest chore is finding something to do. It is you who is working too hard.” When she wiggled her fingers free, he gave a knowing grin.

“Work is good for the soul,” he said.

“Then yours must be in prime shape. You have been working almost too hard, for ... I mean, when your fiancée and her family are visiting.”

“There is a great deal to be done. Business before pleasure. As you will notice, I am at liberty today for any pleasure you care to suggest.”

“I thought you were here on business—looking for James.”

He gave a mischievous smile. “Oh, is that what you thought?”

Looking around, she spotted a basket of freshly cut mistletoe on a table. “I see James has already been out,” she said.

Nick went to the basket and held up a bough. “I missed my kiss this year,” he said, looking at her in a quizzical manner.

“No, you didn’t. I saw you kissing Aurelia under the kissing bough.”

“Did you, now? And you didn’t rush forward to catch me while I was at your tender mercy?”

Jane was uneasy with his strange mood. There was an excitement in his eyes, an impatience that she could not account for, almost as if he were gloating over some secret. He had not been in this mood on the other occasions when he had sought her out.

“Why don’t you take the mistletoe to Pillar and have him hang it for tonight?” she suggested, hoping to be rid of him.

“You are forgetting the tradition.”

“The tradition is that the family hang the evergreens. We have already done that.”

“I was referring to the tradition of the kissing bough.” He held the mistletoe bough over her head and leaned forward to place a quick kiss on her cheek.

Jane, realizing at the last moment what he was up to, turned her head sharply aside to avoid it. Instead, she brought her lips into contact with Nick’s. The kiss had the effect of an electrical charge. A sharp surge of excitement coursed through her body, momentarily riveting her to the spot, while the kiss lingered sweetly on her lips. She shook herself back to reality and withdrew a few inches, staring at him silently. Some awful knowledge was born between them in the brief seconds of that self-conscious look.

Nick didn’t speak. He just tossed the mistletoe back into the basket and drew her into his arms. And she let him. She went, like one in trance, hypnotized by the soft warmth of the tropical oasis around them that hardly seemed like real life at all, by the glitter of desire that had suddenly blazed in his eyes, and most of all by an overwhelming realization that she felt that same need.

It was an unconscionable, unforgivable thing to do. Nick was engaged, but she could no more stop herself than she could stop a flying bullet. It was as if some wild force had taken control of her mind and body. His lips firmed in demand as he crushed her against him in a ruthless, plundering embrace that left her breathless. She felt as if she were melting from the inside out from the heat that grew in her. She couldn’t tell whether the awful guilt made the kiss better or worse, but at length it could no longer be ignored, and she pushed him away.

“Jane.” His voice throbbed a whispering need, then he reached out his arms to take her again.

“Stop it,” she gasped. “Just stop it, Nick. How dare you—I have been feeling sorry for you. I come to think you and Miss Aurelia will do very well together.”

He leapt on her words like a dog on a bone. “What does that mean?”

“You figure it out.”

“No, you tell me. Are you suggesting there is another man? Has she confided in you?” he asked hopefully. Surely that quick, eager question indicated hopefulness. He wanted to be rid of Aurelia!

“Certainly not. But I, for one, would not blame her if there were someone else, for she has not seen much of
you
all week. I hardly know which of you has behaved more badly.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Don’t think to use
me
to execute whatever vile scheme you are hatching. It has nothing to do with me.”

“Ah, but there you are wrong, my sweet. It has everything to do with you.”

“I should have thought an officer and a gentleman would take the blame for his own mistakes.”

On this curt insult she turned and fled from the conservatory. She went straight to her room and missed Sir William’s announcement of his new appointment.

Willie’s first reaction upon receiving the offer earlier that morning had been to assume the letter had gone to the wrong person. He took it to Nick.

“I have received a most bizarre missive from Lord Castlereagh asking if I would consider a posting to Paris to act in a liaison capacity between Wellington’s Paris office and the Department of Foreign Affairs in London. What can it mean?” he asked in confusion.

Nick glanced briefly at the letter and smiled blandly. “Why, it looks as if you have friends in high places, Willie. Congratulations. This sounds like a posting much to your advantage. Paris is gay at this time. The half of London society will be there. And the duties, you know, will not be onerous. Attending official parties, chaperoning a few dignitaries about town, and going often to London to report to Castlereagh.”

“It sounds like a dream, but how
...
?” A smile moved his lips. “You!”

“A pity Castlereagh had not seen fit to offer the post to me, as Aurelia is so eager to visit Paris. I, alas, will be much too busy here.”

Willie understood him perfectly. “But the engagement has been announced,” he said.

“So was the Duke of Halford and Miss Rennet’s, but no wedding occurred. The path of true love, as we are all tired of knowing, never did run smooth. Of course, a gentleman cannot call off. That is the privilege of the bride-to-be.”

“Marie will never let her do it.”

“Will she not? I will not even be a sir when Uncle marries Mrs. Lipton. Your bride, on the other hand, will be Lady Winston.”

“Goderich marry! You must be—” He stopped, chuckled, and said, “You, sir, are the wiliest gentleman in the parish.” He bowed in acknowledgment of the fact. “I cede the crown to your superior talents, cousin. Another announcement of a wedding that will not take place. When will the announcement be made?”

“At the New Year’s party, I think, but you will want to inform our guests of your great fortune before that time—as soon as you have written to Castlereagh accepting the post, I should think. You must not forget that important detail.” He stood up and offered Willie the seat at the desk.

Willie reached for the pen. “My hand
is
trembling,” he said. “Do you know, this will be the first job I have ever had?”

“You mustn’t believe everything you hear. An old dog can learn new tricks.”

“Aye, if the reward is high enough. I just want you to know, Nick—I do care for her, you know. This is not just cream-pot love.”

“I know you do, Willie. You must care for her even more than you know, to have withstood such prolonged bouts of shopping without a single complaint.”

“I realize she is a widgeon, and as common as Judy O’Grady, but—dash it, I like her. She suits me. And this post will just suit her family. A touch of class, you know. That is my main attraction.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Willie. Not to disparage your elegant way, but you are a good-natured fellow. The FO will take care of your moving expenses, but if you need a little something to be going on with—I thought a wedding gift
...
”