Lady Vixen (29 page)

Nicole
stared at him, and shaken by the violence she could feel in the air, she
whispered, "Why? Why are you doing this? What do you intend?"

Looking
down at her, he didn't understand any of the emotions he was experiencing.
Because he was confused and uncertain himself, his voice was unduly harsh.
"Because it pleases me! I am returning you to England as soon as possible.
I hope you will have progressed to a point that will pass muster with your
family so that we can sail by late February—perhaps sooner if you are very
diligent. Mauer will be taking your measurements, and I will be leaving within
the week for New Orleans again. A new wardrobe will replace the one you
supposedly lost when the ship, also mythical by the way, sunk—it was taking you
and Mrs. Eggleston from the north, where you both had been living until I could
arrange to escort you here." Smiling thinly he added, "That's when Mrs.
Eggleston became ill. It was very harrowing experience and you were lucky to
have escaped with your lives."

"Why,"
Nicole asked in a numb voice, "were we living in the north?"

"Oh,
that," he said easily. "Did you know that when you ran away from
Beddington's Corner five years ago you went with Mrs. Eggleston?"

Staring
at him as if she thought he were insane, Nicole said faintly, "I ran away
with Mrs. Eggleston?"

"Yes.
It was extremely irresponsible of you, but Mrs. Eggleston sympathized with your
plight—and she didn't realize you had hidden yourself away on her coach until
she had reached London."

Her
eyes searched his face with something approaching hysteria. "You must be
mad! No one would believe that tale—besides who is Mrs. Eggleston?" Her
expression changed in an instant and she said in a tone of incredulity,
"Mrs.
Eggleston!
Colonel Eggleston's widow?"

Christopher
nodded. "The same. I met her by accident in New Orleans."

For
a second he eyed Nicole with consideration. Then pulling her behind him, he
walked over to the two chairs. Sitting down in one of them, he indicated that
Nicole should take the other. She did so like one moving in a trance. Finally
she got out, "How do you know Mrs. Eggleston?" And frowning she
added, "And what is she doing here?"

Christopher
hesitated. How much to tell Nick and how much to keep from her? He decided that
the only thing that was vital to keep from her was Jason Savage's visit and the
real reason for their return to England. Let Nick think he'd suddenly had an
attack of conscience and was willing to return her home. Somewhat cautiously he
asked, "Haven't you ever wondered exactly who I am or what I was doing in
England five years ago?"

"You
came to hire seamen," she said in a puzzled tone. "At least that's
what Sally said."

"Sally?"

"Sally
Brown. Her sister Peggy worked at the inn. Peggy heard you asking around."

Christopher
grinned. "So that's how you knew I wanted seamen! I often wondered, but
never thought of it overmuch."

Impatiently
Nicole asked, "So?"

And
reluctantly Christopher admitted, "Nick, I'm Lord Saxon's grandson. And
from now on, you had best forget that Captain Saber ever existed and remember
that my name is Christopher... not Saber."

For
several seconds, Nicole looked at him, literally struck dumb. Eventually she
managed, "The Christopher that ran away?"

His
face falling into tight, bitter lines, Saber nodded. "The same."

"Then
of course you know Mrs. Eggleston," she said with wonder. "You know
everyone
at Beddington's Corner!"

"Not
quite," he commented in a dry tone. "It has never been my pleasure to
meet your guardians, the Markhams."

"Oh,"
Nicole said blankly. There were dozens of questions that flew in a dozen
different directions in her startled brain. Why was he a pirate? And why the
devil did he now wish to return to England?

A
smile on his lips, Christopher mocked, "Is that all you have to say?"

She
sought for words. "Um, no, it's just that it's a shock to discover that
you're really someone I've known about all my life—that our families were neighbors,
good friends even." Recovering herself somewhat, she guessed shrewdly,
"Besides, you won't tell me anything anyway." And suddenly realizing
the full significance of what he had revealed, her temper exploded and she
exclaimed, "You're a foul beast, Saber, you know that! How could you treat
me as you have! I could understand it partially when you were just Captain
Saber, but you were raised a gentleman! Your grandfather is a lord! I would
have expected better of you."

Christopher's
eyes were shuttered and his smile vanished, leaving his face cold and
forbidding. "Watch it, Nick!" he warned softly. "I haven't set
you up as my judge. I am, what I am—for whatever reasons, and they don't
concern you! All that concerns you is the tale that we're going to present. And
present it, we
will!"

Nicole
bit back more angry words, and jumping to her feet, she said jeeringly,
"Intrigue seems to be one of your talents! I'm certain you'll come up with
a plausible tale— so tell me, why were we in the north? How have Mrs. Eggleston
and I lived these past five years? And how did we have the great misfortune to
come under your protection?"

Angry
now too, especially when it occurred to him that if her damned slut of a mother
had kept her legs together he wouldn't be in this ignoble position, Christopher
stood up and snarled, "Misfortune indeed! You're bloody lucky I don't
strangle you and throw you in the river. Don't push me too far, Nick!"

Having
enraged him, Nicole now irrationally wished that she hadn't, and in a calmer tone
of voice she said quickly, "You can't expect me to accept meekly what you
have done—and I think if our roles were reversed, you, too, would fight
back!"

Silently
Christopher grudgingly acknowledged the justice of her words, but he only shook
his head.

Christopher
remained silent and Nicole said crossly, "Tell me the tale I'm to learn
and let's get this farce done with!"

"Very
well then, you ran away with Mrs. Eggleston five years ago when she left
England. You have been living these past years quietly in a small town in
British Canada. Due to the fighting along the border, Mrs. Eggleston decided it
would be safer to leave the area. Besides she also felt that it was time you
returned and claimed your estates. Unfortunately, your ship was sunk by an
American privateer and you were taken to Charleston. I happened to be in
Charleston myself, thinking of buying my own merchantman, when we accidentally
met. Naturally"—and Christopher bowed mockingly in her
direction—"learning of your plight, I immediately undertook to look after
you both. We traveled to New Orleans, where Mrs. Eggleston's illness
necessitated her remaining there. I deposited you at Thibodaux House and left
right away again for New Orleans. I have just now returned with a suitable
lady's maid and a few gowns to replace those you lost at sea. I will be leaving
again in a few days to see to the remainder of your new wardrobe and to escort
the fully recovered Mrs. Eggleston back here." He gave Nicole a hard look
to see how she was taking his story. But Nicole could, upon occasion, hide her
emotions too, and she had kept her face stony and unrevealing throughout
Christopher's discourse. He ignored her lack of animation and continued,
"Soon I'll see about arranging passage for us to London. And," he
added provocatively, "if you do as I say and give me no difficulty, I
shall free Allen... within a reasonable time period."

Christopher
was rather pleased with his story. It hung together nicely. More importantly,
there was going to be an ocean between them and the true facts—an ocean and a
war going on. It would be almost impossible for anyone to disprove his tale—and
who would want to? Mrs. Eggleston was a pattern card of respectability, and she
had admitted to him that she had been too ashamed of her circumstances to let
any of her friends in England know the truth. They believed she had left
England, unable to bear it after the Colonel's death, and had decided to live
with distant relatives in Canada. A coincidence Christopher blessed fervently.

With
Mrs. Eggleston to lend credibility and he himself returning as the wild, young
rascal who had made a fortune in America, they should brush through the first
uneasy meetings with few problems. The explanation of the past five years was
solid; Mrs. Eggleston's and Nick's wish to return also could not be open to
conjecture. His own providential appearance on the scene was stretching it a
bit thin, but only to someone who was unduly suspicious of his reasons for
coming back to England.

The
Markhams would present a certain amount of difficulty if they were as
determined to control Nick's life and fortune as it appeared they were. But
this time Nick would not be fighting them alone—she would have both himself and
Mrs. Eggleston to stand in her favor, and he had the feeling that if his
grandfather were still alive, old Simon Saxon would carry the battle right into
the enemy camp.

Once
Nick's claim was proven and she was safely in control of her own fortune, her
usefulness was over. By that time he hoped he would have gained whatever
knowledge he could and would be leaving her behind. For a moment he realized he
felt saddened by the prospect, but he thrust it aside. She meant nothing to
him— he had only grown used to her. And because he was angry at something he
didn't or wouldn't understand, he snapped harshly, "Do you think you can
remember what I've said? You're quick enough, you shouldn't have any
trouble."

Nicole
nodded, a lump of cold misery in her chest. Controlling herself with an effort,
she asked expressionlessly, "Is that all? May I go to my room now?"

Angry
and not certain why, Christopher snarled, "Yes, by God! Get out of my
sight!"

Without
another word, Nicole tore out of the library, and running out onto the veranda,
she raced up the stairs to her room on the second floor . . . her new room. She
met Galena in the wide hallway, who, with a carefully bland face, showed her
the room she was now to occupy. It would have been more than she could bear if
she'd had to ask Saber... or Christopher, as he now wanted to be called.

Not
understanding herself, or why instead of mad elation there was only an empty
feeling in her stomach, she ignored the trunks and packages that were scattered
about the room, and with something approaching a sob threw herself down on the
green silk-draped bed.

Of
course it wasn't a sob—Nicole never cried, but she was dangerously near to it.
Biting her lip to stop its quiver, she told herself she should be the most
delighted girl in the world. Allen would be free . . . eventually. No longer
would she have to endure Saber's, no, Christopher's lovemaking, and soon he
would be taking her home to England, returning her to her rightful place and
ousting the Markhams as she had always planned. Dismally she wondered why it
mattered not one jot to her—why all she really wanted to do was to go on
crossing swords with Sa—Christopher, fighting with him and then losing herself
in his arms!

Her
thoughts were not to be borne. Telling herself that it was the shock, the
suddenness of having all her dreams come true that was responsible for this
terrible feeling of depression, she wrenched her mind away from the painful
subject and forced herself to concentrate on all the lovely things Christopher
had brought back with him.

She
rang for Galena. And within a few minutes, they began to unpack the trunks and
packages. Christopher had said he had brought just a few clothes, but seeing
the half dozen or so gorgeous gowns—one in Pomona green of gossamer satin; the
dainty silk slippers; a delightfully curled silk bonnet; three simply
enchanting night rails of the finest percale with matching robes delicately
embroidered with roses; a very fashionable riding habit of bright green cloth
ornamented with black braid à
la militaire;
a small riding hat of black
beaver with gold cordon and tassels and a long green ostrich feather; two pairs
of black half boots, one pair laced and fringed with green; a lace tippet à
la Duchess d'Agoul
ê
me,
edged with a border of Vandyke lace; and an
amber silk cape—Nicole couldn't possibly see how she would ever need more!

For
a young woman whose entire wardrobe for years had consisted only of the boy's
clothes on her back, it seemed like an incredible wardrobe, and the knowledge
that there would be more almost took her breath away.

One
small trunk contained all the little odds and ends that most women so love and
Nicole, despite herself, found that she was no different. With delight she
lifted out delicate silk chemises, some spangled scarves, a matched set of
combs, brushes and an oval hand mirror inlaid with mother of pearl, deliciously
scented soaps and bath oils, as well as several crystal bottles of perfume.

With
childlike glee Nicole ran from one lovely object to the other, her hands almost
caressing the beautiful gowns and scarves. In simple enjoyment she slipped into
a hastily prepared bath, liberally scented from one of the jars of bath oil,
and reveled in the soft, silken water. Afterward Galena helped her into one of
the new night rails with its matching wrapper, and Nicole sat lost in thought before
the small fire in her room as Galena soothingly brushed her wavy locks.