Lady Vixen (4 page)

"But
Nicole won't have a season," Agatha blurted.

Nicole's
head jerked up at that, and she intercepted the angry warning look her uncle
flashed to her aunt. "Why won't I have a season?" she asked in a
puzzled tone.

Her
aunt appeared flustered and ignored the question. "That's enough out of
you! You may leave the table."

Knowing
something was vitally wrong, Nicole stiffened, her little chin hard with
resolution. "Why won't I have a season?"

Glaring
at her with open dislike, Agatha snapped, "Because you are to marry
Edward! There is no need to waste all that money on a London season to find you
a husband. It is all arranged."

Speechless
for a moment, Nicole could only stare at her aunt.
Marry Edward!
Marry
that lazy, malicious son of the two people she most detested in the world?
"Edward!"
she burst out at last with loathing. "I will not marry him! You must
be mad to think that I would!"

Suddenly
her uncle, his face even redder with temper, commanded, "Now, my girl, you
don't get so uppity and you listen here! You have a great fortune and we are
your only relatives. We don't want to see you taken advantage of." In a
calmer tone he continued, "Marriage with Edward will make certain
everything is kept in the family. We won't have any fortune hunters marrying
you for your money."

"No,
you
are fortune hunters enough!" Nicole spat, her topaz-dark eyes
nearly black with fury, a becoming flush staining her cheeks. She jumped up
from her chair, and in a voice trembling with rage she said, "You forget
that you are not really any relation of mine at all! That the fortune you worry
about does not belong to your family, but to
mine."
Then turning on
her heels and ignoring her uncle's shout for her to stay, she ran from the
room, out of the house, and toward the stables.

In
the quiet of the stables, breathing heavily, she leaned her hot face on the
silken neck of her horse. No longer only hers, she thought bitterly, for rather
than waste the money to buy Edward a horse of his own, William had ordered that
her horse would be used by Edward whenever he wanted.

Maxwell
had been a gift to her from her father on her eleventh birthday, and it galled
her to have to share the thoroughbred bay gelding with anyone who mistreated an
animal as Edward did. With tender fingers she traced the half-healed wound made
by Edward's spurs on the gleaming hide. Oh, why couldn't Edward ride some other
horse, she thought with unhappiness.

True,
there were others in the stable, but none so fine as Maxwell, for her uncle, in
what he said was an economy move, had sold all of her father's handsome hunters
and thoroughbreds, leaving the stable shrunk to only a few hacks and a pair of
carriage horses. Maxwell, too, would have joined the others under the hammer,
only Nicole had roused herself from the grief of her family's deaths to defy
him, demanding to know by what right he sold things that were actually hers.
Her uncle had backed down, not wishing too many questions asked about where the
money went.

The
sound of footsteps brought Nicole back to the present and caused her to shrink
into a corner of the stall. Just now she didn't want to talk to anyone. She was
hoping desperately whoever it was would leave, but instead of leaving, a moment
later someone else joined the first person in the stable. Nicole heard a soft
mutter, a gasp of laughter, and then silence. Curious, she peered round the edge
of the stall and stood transfixed at the sight of Edward, his breeches undone,
sprawled in a pile of soft hay with Ellen, the kitchen maid. Edward's hands
disappeared under Ellen's skirts and Nicole blinked, unable to believe what she
was seeing.

"Oh,
Master Edward, whatever would Miss Nicole think if she could see you now?"
teased Ellen, her thighs spreading before Nicole's horrified gaze as Edward lay
on top of her. Nicole was not so young that she didn't know what they were
doing, and sick with disgust she turned away from the sight.

Edward
gave an audible grunt, muttering thickly, "Little Nicole will do as she's
damn well told."

Nicole
tasted bile rising in her throat, and for a second she was terrified that she
would be sick. But she fought back the wave of sickness, and with her eyes
closed, her mind blank, she waited for them to finish their sordid little act.
After what seemed an eternity, she thought she heard them rising to their feet
and then Edward said, "Tonight, you'll come to my room?"

Ellen's
murmur was lost to Nicole and for that she was thankful. She had heard enough,
she didn't want to hear any more. She stayed there, frozen for several minutes
after they had departed, and then driven like some vixen before the hounds, she
stumbled and ran in the direction of the woods that grew beyond the stables.
Blindly she found her way to the deserted summer pavilion that had become her
favorite retreat.

The
pavilion wasn't on Ashford land, but belonged to their nearest neighbor, Baron
Saxon. It had always held a beckoning attraction for Nicole, and lately she
found solace in creeping like an intruder into the attic of the building to
daydream her woes away. The pavilion was associated with happier times, times
when she had been very young and there had been a great deal of visiting
between the Ashfords and the Saxons that brought her to it.

The
pavilion had fallen into disrepair over the years, the once soft green couches
and lounges with their faded scarlet cushions were dull, the finish cracked and
peeling. The building itself was no longer a bright cheerful yellow, but a sad,
depressing muddy color that gave little clue to its past charm.

Years
before, she and Giles had discovered the small attic, which in the past had
been used for winter storage. The twins had instantly made it their secret
place—a place where no one bothered them, a place where together they would lie
on the floor, arms folded under their heads, and stare through the hole in the
roof at the blue sky, sharing small secrets and dreaming out loud. But that was
in the past, Nicole thought sadly, as she slowly climbed up into the attic.

The
events of today had only clarified the misery she felt when she viewed the
future. No longer could she tell herself that things would right themselves.
Obviously they would not. The Markhams firmly believed that her fortune and her
life were theirs to dispose of as they wished. But she was not going to let it
happen, she vowed grimly, the spirit and determination that had always been
hers wakening and stirring from its long sleep.

What
was she to do? she wondered dismally. She would not fall in with the Markham's
plans! Edward, she decided dispassionately, was revolting. Fastidiously her
straight little nose wrinkled with distaste as she remembered the faint sounds
that had drifted from the shifting bodies under the hay—Edward was not going to
do that to her!

Resolved
upon that point, she felt somewhat better. But knowing that unless the fates
were kind or she took fate into her own slender hands she was doomed to wed
Edward, she seriously considered escape. Somehow she would remove herself from
their greedy clutches.

With
half-hearted enthusiasm she began to dwell upon the methods she could use to
accomplish this, and because thirteen is very young she was either unaware of
or ignored all the obvious obstacles in her path. First, her fancy alighted
upon becoming a barmaid at an unknown posting house far away, where the kindly
owner and his wife would take her to their bosom. Next, she decided that instead
she would run away to London and offer her services as a parlormaid... or
perhaps a companion to some old charming woman... or was she too young? Or
best, she would disguise herself as a boy and have an adventurous life in the
Army—or, better yet, the Royal Navy— hadn't Giles planned to be a naval
officer, hadn't Admiral Nelson been her hero as well as Giles's? And when she
was informed laughingly by her father that she couldn't follow her brother to
sea, hadn't the twins planned to smuggle her aboard her brother's ship, where
they would have a jolly time fighting the French! The more she thought of it,
the more the almost-forgotten plan appealed to her. She gave a great sigh,
wishing suddenly and forlornly for Giles's comforting presence.

The
sound of someone's noisy approach to the pavilion scattered her thoughts and
warily she peeked down from her attic hiding place, breathing a sigh of relief
when she recognized Sally's slightly plump figure.

Sally's
father had been the head groom at Ashland before William, in another economy
mood, had fired him, and Nicole and Sally had known each other all their lives.
Sally Brown was older than Nicole, soon to reach her sixteenth birthday, and of
late the friendship had begun to suffer because of Sally's increasing interest
in the opposite sex—something that at the moment bored Nicole intolerably.

"Nicky
are you up there?" Sally called once she had walked to the middle of the
pavilion.

And
with a groan Nicole answered grudgingly, "Yes, I am. What do you
want?"

"Well,
come down here you silly goose and I'll tell you!"

Nicole
made a face, certain that Sally was about to regale her with some silly tale
about the Squire's son's supposed amorous interest in Sally's ripening body.
But still Nicole was almost pleased to see Sally today, for Sally was a
pleasant jolly sort and her foolish chatter would take Nicole's mind off the
Markham family and the impending departure of Mrs. Eggleston.

Her
eyes dreamy, Sally breathed, "Oh, Nicky, you should see the gorgeous
creature that is putting up at the inn. He just arrived but Peg says he'll only
be staying tonight. Oh, how I wish I worked at the inn! Peg gets to meet the
most handsome coves and gets paid for it too!"

Nicole
grimaced and returned in a bored tone, "So what! I thought you had
something interesting to tell me."

"But
it is! You ought to see him—tall, with hair so dark it really is blue-black,
and his eyes reminded me of a lion's, gold and"—Sally gave a delicious
shiver—"just as dangerous."

"How
do you know that? Have you seen him?" Nicole demanded, interested in spite
of herself.

"Oh,
yes! Peg let me serve him lunch, and I can tell you I could hardly keep myself
from touching him—he is so unlike everyone here. His name is Captain Saber,
he's an American, and Peg says that he had stopped here to visit one night with
friends and then tomorrow is leaving for London. Just think, he has a ship all
his own! According to Peg he's been in England buying cargo for sale in
America, but she heard him say he wouldn't mind if one or two of our Surrey
lads wanted to sign up with him." Sally giggled. "Can you imagine,
Jem or even Tim going away to sea? If Captain Saber only knew—Beddington's
Corner is no place to find seamen!"

An
arrested expression in the topaz eyes, Nicole stared at her friend.
"Seamen? You say this man is after seamen?"

"Well,
I guess so, at least that's what he told Peg when she asked, ever so politely,
you know, what brought him here." As if to excuse her sister's curiosity,
Sally added, "It isn't often that we get strangers here and Peg just
wondered what a gentrycove like him was doing in Beddington's Corner."

Nicole,
her mind already busy with an incredible plan, asked impatiently, "Where
is he now?"

Sally
shrugged. "I don't know, he left right after lunch. He probably won't be
back until late." Sally gave a sigh. "I'll probably never see him
again."

"Shush!"
Nicole bit out sharply. Her head turning in the direction that Sally had come,
she listened for a second and then said, "Quick! Up in the attic, someone
is coming!"

"What
difference does that make?" Sally asked, but Nicole paid her no heed,
already hastily scrambling up into the attic. Sally hesitated a half second and
then with a resigned air followed the younger girl. She had barely joined
Nicole and positioned herself so that she could look down into the pavilion,
when a tall man entered the building.

Sally
gave a smothered gasp. "It's him! It's Captain Saber."

The
tall man below them apparently didn't hear those barely audible words for he
never glanced up. Instead, he stood in the middle of the building and seemed to
survey it slowly, as Nicole watched, fascinated in spite of herself by the view
she had of his dark, bearded features.

For
several moments the man stayed in the pavilion looking around, and Nicole had the
odd sensation that this place held memories for him and that they were not
happy ones. He picked up one of the faded scarlet cushions and then with an
angry exclamation threw it violently away from himself.

Nicole
heard the second man's approach at the same time the man below her did, because
she saw the way he stiffened and turned to stare at the door. And astonished,
she and Sally watched as Lord Saxon's only living son, Robert Saxon, entered
the building.

"I
wondered if you would meet me after all," Robert said by way of greeting.

Captain
Saber smiled, his teeth very white in the black beard. "I'm not a youth
anymore to be manipulated at will. And I'm prepared for you this time—last time
I trusted you."