Lady Vixen (57 page)

"Oh,
I'll not deny it, but that was no reason to put the idea in Letty's head that
she should go gallivanting off all over the world!" Simon retorted heatedly.

Opening
her eyes very wide, Regina asked with well-feigned astonishment. "Why,
what else should she do? There is nothing for her in England! Oh! I expect she
will visit me once in a great while and Nicole also. But really, Simon, she is
not chained to us!"

Looking
at his sister with open dislike, Simon snapped, "I know that! But I don't
see why she couldn't find a cozy little house near you in Essex." Warming
to his theme and feeling suddenly pleased with himself, he continued, "You
know, Gina, I have never cared for your living by yourself, but if Letty were
with you, why, it would please me a great deal."

"I'm
sure it would," replied his sister dryly. And that was precisely what
Regina was bent on avoiding. If Simon could place Letty in her household, it
might be months yet before he declared himself, and that was something she was
determined would not happen. Mendaciously, she added, "But it would never
work, Simon. I enjoy Letty's company but day after day I'm afraid it would
drive me to distraction. You know how I prefer my own way, how I gad about all
the time. Poor Letitia would be fagged to death keeping up with me. No, it
would not do."

Simon
glared at her, not liking the implied slur against Letty. Almost aggressively
he snapped, "Funny thing, Letty hasn't bored you these past months!"

"That
may be true, my dear, but there has been such excitement, what with the season
and all, that no one could have bored me!" Regina returned glibly, but
once again the conversation appeared on the point of dying as Simon picked up
his newspaper, his mouth set in a tight line. Desperately playing her last
trump, Regina said in a distressful tone, "Oh, what a goose I am, Simon!
It completely slipped my mind. Oh, poor Letitia, what have I done to her! Poor,
poor dear!"

"What?
Damn you, tell me!" Simon demanded, his interest fixed intently on his
sister.

Assuming
a diffident expression, Regina murmured, "Poor Letty! She had absolutely
no fortune you know. The Colonel died with debts and she has worked for her
living these past few years. And like a fool I prattled on about her traveling
abroad. What must she think of me?" Regina gave a sigh. "It is a pity
it is so, but she will, I suppose, have to start looking for some position to
keep her. I must write to several of my friends—one of them is bound to need a
governess, or perhaps a companion." Simon opened his mouth, and suspecting
what he was going to say, she rushed on, "Unfortunately
I
could
never offer her such a position with me, for she would immediately guess that
it was charity, and you know how touchy her pride is." Her face
thoughtful, Regina said, "Now let me see . . . Oh, I have it, the very
thing! Mrs. Baldwin mentioned just last week that she was considering looking
for a companion." Rising to her feet she continued, "I shall tell
Letty at once! Poor little thing, I know she must be crushed imagining that I
would do nothing to help her!"

"Sit
down!" The words thundered from Simon, and there was no mistaking the
violence underlying his tone of voice. "Mrs. Baldwin?" he said with
loathing. "That old harridan is the rudest, most overbearing woman in
London and you would put Letty at her mercy!"

"But,
Simon, what else is there to be done?" Regina asked reasonably. "Mrs.
Baldwin will pay her handsomely, you must admit."

"Yes!
And then treat her like a slave! Unthinkable!"

Regina
smiled sweetly. "I agree completely. But perhaps some other method will
present itself. After all, it is not as if something must be decided
today."

"Bah!"
snorted Simon, and with surprisingly youthful strides he stalked from the room,
slamming the door behind him.

An
angelic smile on her lips, Regina contentedly sipped her tea.

Simon
did not immediately seek out Letitia. He retreated to his office to think over
all that Regina had revealed. The thought of his little Letty working to
support herself these past years was abhorrent, and that she might be forced to
do so again, why
that
was simply intolerable!

Simon
had been a widower for over twenty-five years, and never during that time had
he given any thought of marrying again. His marriage had not been
un
happy,
but it had not endeared that state to him. And Mrs. Eggleston, the one woman
who could have changed that notion, had departed the country before it had
really dawned on him that they were now both, in their twilight years, free to
marry each other.

All
his protective instincts had been at once aroused by Regina's disclosures. And
he was afraid that Letitia would depart as clandestinely as she had from
Beddington's Corner five years ago. Remembering his pain and disbelief then, he
paced the room, a tall, still handsome man not many months from seventy.

Marriage,
he knew, was the answer. He had wanted to marry Letitia since he was a dashing
seventeen and she a blushing sixteen. But now that the moment was upon him, he
was beset by the same fears and uncertainties that plague any man at any age
the moments prior to a proposal: Did she love him? Would she accept?

She
must marry him, he thought fiercely. He had loved her all his adult life, and
he could not bear to think of living out the remainder of his years without
Letty at his side.

Determinedly,
he sought her out and discovered her after several moments in a small room at
the back of the house. Mrs. Eggleston had her back to him, for she was staring
blindly out a window that overlooked the small town garden, her thoughts bleak
and miserable. There was a dejected slant to her small shoulders, and seeing
them so, Simon felt a leap of protective tenderness. But he hesitated,
strangely at a loss, all his fears and doubts submerging his usual confidence.
And as he dithered, the heartrending sound of a faint sob reached his ears.
Instantly all other considerations were thrown to the winds, and he rushed to
Mrs. Eggleston's side.

"Letty,
Letty, my dear, you must
not
cry!" he pleaded. His harsh, lined
features were soft and wretched as he turned her gently to face him, and his
big, gnarled hands rested warmly on her frail shoulders.

"Oh,
d-d-dear!" Mrs. Eggleston stammered, valiantly attempting to recover her
composure. But it was no use, she was feeling so unwanted, so alone and
completely deserted that the sight of Simon's dear face, so worried and
solicitous, was her undoing. The big blue eyes filled with tears, and the
maidenly precepts practiced for all her life vanished as she threw herself into
his arms and wailed, "Oh, Simon! I am so dreadfully unhappy! What am I to
do?"

Simon's
arms closed instinctively and possessively around her small body. "Letty,
Letty," he murmured tenderly into the soft white curls that brushed
against his chest. Feeling her in his arms at last after all the long,
interminable years that had gone before, his confidence returned full-blown,
and almost aggressively he said, "Why, you will marry me! You should have
years ago! And I'll not have you say nay to me now!" On an incredibly tender
note, he added, "The years we wasted, my love. Please, don't let us waste
those that are left to us."

"Oh,
Simon, no! We shall not! I've always loved you and I could not bear it if we
had to part again. I think I should die!" Mrs. Eggleston said earnestly,
her face pale and upraised to his. Unable to resist Simon bent his head and
fervently kissed his Letty for the first time since their youth.

Perhaps
the kiss did not have the fire and passion of fifty years ago, and certainly
Letitia had lost the smooth, silken curves of a maid of sixteen and Simon the
powerful muscles of a youth of seventeen, but it was as sweet and as satisfying
as any kiss between lovers can be.

"Oh,
Letty, I love you so! We were such fools!" Simon said at last, Mrs.
Eggleston still protectively cradled in his arms.

Her
small hand reached up to caress tenderly his lined cheek. "Oh, yes, we
were, but, Simon, at least we have now," Mrs. Eggleston whispered softly,
her face radiant, the blue eyes bright and a becoming flush to her cheeks. But
then an unwelcome thought intruded. Her eyes fixed painfully on his and she
asked, "Simon, has Regina said anything to you?"

With
his face perfectly blank, Simon asked in apparent surprise, "Regina? Why,
what does she have to do with us?"

Mrs.
Eggleston gave a breathless little laugh, reassured that it was not pity or
charity that prompted him. "Oh, nothing, Simon dear. Nothing at all."

She
glanced up at him almost shyly, and Simon couldn't help kissing her again. But
beneath his happiness ran the fear that Letty would discover that Regina had
indeed said something to him, and so when he had seated Letty on a small
rose-velvet sofa and had sat down beside her, he said briskly, "We will
marry at once. I shall obtain a special license and on Sunday you will wed
me!"

"Oh,
but, Simon, should we? What will people think?" Mrs. Eggleston protested,
genuinely shocked at such indecent haste.

Simon
clasped one of her hands in his and implored, "Letty, does it matter? At
our age?"

"Oh,
Simon, no! No, it does not!" she replied breathlessly, her eyes shining
with love.

And
what could he do but kiss her again, after such sweet, longed-for capitulation?

Nicole
had left the breakfast room earlier with no particular destination in. mind,
seeking only to escape Christopher Saxon's disruptive presence. After wandering
aimlessly through her rooms and finding nothing there to banish the picture of
Christopher's mocking face, she rang for Mauer and, after slipping on a soft
russet cloak of twilled sarcenet, left word that she was going for a walk in
Hyde Park. As was the case whenever she stepped out of the house in Cavendish
Square, she was accompanied by a servant, a circumstance she considered
irksome. But as the servant was usually Galena, she managed to suffer her
company without too much resentment. After all, she reminded herself time and
time again, it wasn't Galena's fault!

Galena
following sedately behind her, Nicole's features were introspective as she
walked slowly along one of the pleasant paths in the park, with no eye for the
late-blooming cornflowers or the pungent-scented daisies that brightened the
ground near her feet. What a terrible coil she had made of things, she thought
with a spurt of annoyance.

She
had left England to escape from one trap, and she was just discovering that she
had fallen into a far worse snare. Now the things that she would otherwise have
accepted without question grated and irritated her until sometimes she thought
she would go mad. The chaperons, the lack of privacy, having to account for her
every minute, her acquaintances first having to be approved by Lord Saxon and
Lady Darby, the places she simply could not go because, "My dear, it is
not done!" left her feeling as if she were smothering.

Lost
in her thoughts, she continued to walk, unaware of the admiring glances sent
her way, or the warmth of the sun shining brightly overhead.

She
could not, she acknowledged unhappily, continue to live much longer in this
rigid unyielding social order that dominated the lives of her peers. She
hungered with a growing fierceness for the freedom to be herself, to put aside
the facade that was the heiress Nicole Ashford, and to let Nick, Nick of the
ready tongue and impudent manner, Nick who dressed as she pleased and pleased
only whom she wanted, come bursting out of this prison.

Bleakly,
she admitted marriage was her only escape, unless she were willing to be
completely shunned by all she knew. Not surprisingly, Nicole did not want to
live the life of a recluse or set tongues wagging more than she already had by
her unorthodox return. What she wanted was a compromise, and perhaps marriage
would give it to her, she mused slowly. Married women had much more freedom,
were allowed more license, and if she were to live in the country, where the
day-to-day living was more casual, more relaxed, then she might not feel so
stifled and trapped.

A
wry smile curved her soft bottom lip. Marriage—to whom? There was only one man
she could think of, and marriage to Christopher was
un
thinkable! If only
she were still living in that fool's dream of infatuation with Robert! But she
knew now that what she had felt for Robert had been just that—infatuation.
Marriage with a man she did not love was out of the question. Besides, she
reminded herself heavily, Robert had been as close to being banished from
Cavendish Square as anyone could be. Certainly marriage to Robert would not be
acceptable to anyone. And as for the rest of her suitors, well, Edward was not
even worth counting, and while she enjoyed Lord Lindley's company, she had no
desire to spend the rest of her life with him. There were others too, but none
whom she couldn't bear to have go out of her life.

Perhaps
at Brighton she would feel differently, she mused. But then she sighed. Whom
did she think she was convincing? Christopher would be there, and whenever
Christopher was in her vicinity there was no peace for her. Wishing she could
either love him completely or detest him totally and not be torn apart by the
conflict within her breast, she determinedly shook off her gloomy thoughts.
There was Brighton to look forward to, she reminded herself firmly, and she was
a little fool to brood over things she couldn't change.