Scandalous Love (27 page)

The Duke's smile was
cold. "Of course you did not. The engagement was only made today. The
announcement is in tomorrow's papers."

"Excuse me
again," Glaser said, nodding at them both. He hurried off.

Nicole was gaping.
"How could you!"

She had hoped against
all odds to get out of this engagement before it became common knowledge. She
had no doubt that Lord Glaser would be spreading the news within seconds. By
tomorrow morning all of London would know of their engagement, making a
graceful and private break-up impossible. Once again the Duke had irrevocably
set events in motion, affecting her life and her future, purposefully and
without her consent.

"How could I what?
Rescue you from an unwanted admirer?"

"Who said he was
unwanted?" she flung heedlessly.

He gripped her arm.
"He had better have been unwanted, Nicole."

She tried to shake him
off and did not succeed. "Let go!"

He complied when it
suited him. "I see you are upset."

"Upset? Hah! That
is an understatement—Your Grace!"

"Are you upset
because I have chased away a handsome but currently illegitimate suitor?"

"You know damn well
why I am upset!" She hoped her curse would shock him.

It did not. It only
angered him. "The moment someone enters this corridor, we shall be a spectacle."

Nicole laughed. "We
are going to be a spectacle the minute our engagement is announced! Rather—a
scandal!"

"I will not allow
you to be the brunt of any scandal. I shall take the full brunt of any
repercussions."

"By
pretending
to
love me?"

For a moment he did not
respond. "Trust me."

"Trust you?"

He blushed. Yet he set
his mouth in a hard, grim line. "There is no point in beating a dead
horse," he warned. "I have already said I take full blame for
yesterday's incident."

"Yesterday's
incident?"
Tears abruptly came to Nicole's eyes. This man facing her was as cold as
ice—not the passionate one who had held her and loved her. But that was just
it—he hadn't loved her, not really. And now he was going to
pretend
to
love her. "I am glad you blame yourself. We shall let bygones be bygones.
But I am not marrying you!"

"You are very
foolish, and besides, at this point, no one is asking you."

"How right you
are!"

"I did ask
you," he reminded her grimly.

"And I said
'no'!"

"You made your
feelings abundantly clear. Why do you insist upon this argument?"

"My whole life is
being decided without my consent and you ask me why I argue with you?"

"Nicole," he
said tiredly, "you may argue until you are blue in the face, but the
matter has been decided. We are getting married the second Sunday from today.
And that is final."

Nicole lifted her chin.
Tears filled her eyes. Her back was to the wall and she knew it. It was
hopeless unless she did something terribly drastic, but she had not even dared
to think that far ahead.

"Hadrian!" A
woman called. "There you are—I was wondering where you had got to!"

Nicole stiffened and the
Duke released her arm. She blinked away her tears of impotence and fury. Stacy
Worthington smiled sweetly at the Duke, ignoring Nicole. "Shall we go back
inside?" she asked.

"My dear," the
Duke said, taking Nicole's arm. He shot her a warning look which Stacy could
not see. His thumb stroked her gloved wrist. "Shall we?" he asked,
giving her one of his rare smiles. It softened his features, and for a moment
Nicole stared, mesmerized.

Stacy was staring, too.

Nicole could drown in
his golden eyes. With an effort she realized that this was a game, that it was
all pretense. Her heart turned over. She tried to pull away, but his grip
tightened so quickly that she could not move an inch. In fact, she was pressed
against his side.

She did not want to be
pressed against his side. She did not want to be anywhere near him. She did not
want to be the recipient of such an intimate and tender look. But there was no
choice.

"Stacy," the
Duke of Clayborough said. "I believe you have already met Lady
Shelton?"

"Yes."

"Lady Shelton has
done me the great honor of agreeing to become my wife," he continued,
giving her another too-warm look.

Nicole told herself
fiercely that she would not burst into tears, she would not.

"Hadrian!"
Stacy gasped. "B-but... Elizabeth!"

The Duke looked at his
cousin. "Elizabeth is dead," he said. "And I am marrying Nicole
in less than two weeks time."

Nicole closed her eyes,
but not before seeing the other girl's wrath.

His arm moved and
slipped around her shoulder in a warm and intimate embrace. "I am afraid I
just cannot wait," the Duke said.

Nicole left Lindley's
immediately, begging a ride with the Serles, who were also preparing to depart.
She was distressed from her encounter with Hadrian and she knew it showed.
Martha, however, would never question her in front of her husband, and Nicole
had been counting on this. She practically leapt from their coach when they
stopped at Tavistock Square, mumbling her thanks and hurrying into the house.
Once within there was no need for pretense. Aldric's expression was openly
worried as he watched her rush through the foyer. "My lady," he
called after her. "Are you all right?"

"No, Aldric,"
Nicole cried wildly, already flying up the stairs. "I am not all
right!"

Her room was no
sanctuary. Not many minutes later, she heard her parents and Regina in the hall
outside, saying their good nights. Nicole quickly turned off the lights in her
room, wanting to maintain her privacy. She heard her parents moving down the
hall. A moment later there was a wild pounding on her door. She groaned. By
now, her own head was pounding as well.

Regina did not wait for
Nicole's response and barged abruptly in. "You look as if someone has
died!" Regina exclaimed, her own enthusiasm not dimmed in the least.
"Is it true? Is it true that you are to become his wife? Several people
asked me just as you were leaving Uncle John's! They said he said you were
engaged! Nicole! Are you to be the next Duchess of Clayborough?"

"Please." Her
headache had just increased.

"Oh, God, it is
true!" Regina cried. "What happened? I thought you refused him!"

"I did!"
Nicole said crossly. "The wretch went to father. Father accepted without
my consent."

Regina beamed.
"That is wonderful!"

"I am not marrying
him."

Regina's smile vanished.
"I hope you're joking me."

Nicole gave her a dark
look.

"Father has
arranged it! He is the Duke of Clayborough! What is wrong with you? You told me
yourself you're mad about the man!"

By now, Nicole had no
idea how she felt about Hadrian Braxton-Lowell, although she genuinely
suspected her feelings had turned. "Not any more, I'm not."

"You're a fool if
you don't marry him."

"Then I guess I'm a
fool."

Regina huffed, fists clenched.
"You're going to fight this, aren't you? You're going to fight Father,
aren't you?"

"I am. Why are you
upset?"

"Why am I
upset?" Regina looked as if she were on the verge of tears. "Well,
Nicole, I'll tell you why. Because you're being bloody selfish!"

Nicole had never heard
her sister curse and she was shocked. "I'm selfish?"

"I've never
complained before. But if it weren't for you I'd already be married!
Bloody
hell!
I'm almost nineteen and they've been making me wait hoping that one
day you'll get an offer so you can marry first. Well now you've got an offer—a
good one! But you're too stupid to be reasonable. And I'm sick and tired of
being an old maid. Bloody hell!"

Regina was so distraught
that tears pooled in her eyes. Nicole was aghast, having had no idea that her
sister had been so distressed. "Please try and understand. I can't marry
him, I can't."

"I don't
understand—I'll never understand! You are being selfish and stubborn and just
plain stupid!" Regina ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Nicole was trembling.
She and her sister were very close. Although they'd had plenty of spats, they'd
never fought like this. How long had Regina felt this way? How long had she
blamed Nicole for being forced to wait to marry? Nicole suddenly felt as if her
sister was right and that it was her fault that Regina was still unwed. She
felt as if she had wronged Regina. She loved her little sister; she wouldn't
hurt her for the world.

But Nicole also felt as
if her sister had abandoned her. And that hurt her. Now, when she needed her
sister desperately as a friend and ally, Regina had deserted her.

"Nicole, we must
talk!" Martha cried.

It was teatime the day
after Lindley's at-home. Nicole was immensely glad to see Martha. All day she
had been confronted with the wedding preparations now madly under way.
Apparently, despite the haste, or because of it, the Duke was determined to
have the grandest society wedding in years, and Jane was immersed in a
whirlwind of planning.

Nicole did not care what
they planned. But her mother made sure she was kept informed of the more
important details. Jane had also sent for a seamstress from one of the top
fashion houses, and Nicole had been forced to endure that woman's attentions
for many hours as her wedding gown and trousseau were chosen, fitted and
refitted. In fact, it was going to be a week of endless fittings.

Nicole grew angrier and
angrier.

It was apparent from
Martha's distraught tone that she had learned of the impending nuptials.
"It's all over town! I didn't believe it! But when I walked in here and
saw Mr. Henry—the best chef in town—and Madame Lavie—the most creative and
expensive designer in town—I realized it is true!"

Nicole was in her
undergarments in her bedroom, Madame Lavie having just left. She paced away.
"It's true."

"And you didn't
tell me!" Martha cried, hurt.

Nicole whirled.
"Everything happened yesterday! Only yesterday! Ohh! That bastard has made
sure that there is no way out!"

"You had better
tell me everything," Martha said, instantly concerned.

Nicole sat and did so.
When she had finished Martha looked shocked—for Nicole had not hidden the real
reason for the marriage. Yet she reached for Nicole's hand to hold it
comfortingly. "I know this is not how a woman dreams of being married, but
this is what you wanted from the first. And there could be a child, Nicole. Of
course you must marry him. Why are you being so stubborn and foolish?"

Nicole stood. "I am
tired of being told the same thing by everybody I love—by everybody who is
supposed to be on my side."

"Do there have to
be sides, Nicole?"

"He has turned this
into a war," she said darkly. "If he had only waited..."

Martha looked at her
inquiringly.

Nicole grimaced and
refused to speak aloud her unfinished thoughts. But they were there.
If he
had
waited, then maybe, in time, all of this might have happened the way it should
have.
With him seeking her hand in earnest.

"You poor
dear," Martha said softly.

"The last thing I
want is your pity. How am I going to get out of this now?"

"You can't!"
Martha cried, horrified. "Everyone knows of the engagement and that event
alone is unseemly enough!"

Grimly Nicole sat down
facing her friend. "How unseemly? I may as well know all of it. What are
the gossips saying now?"

Martha hesitated.

"They're saying the
worst," Nicole guessed, pained even though she had known it would turn out
this way— another scandal with her at the center.

"It's that bitch
Stacy Worthington," Martha declared heatedly, her vulgar language shocking
Nicole and causing the older woman to blush. "I heard her myself this
afternoon at Sarah Lockheart's."

"What is she
saying?"

Martha hesitated.
"That there is only one possible reason why the Duke of Clayborough—a man
of honor— would wed you so shortly after his fiancee's death."

"And she's
right," Nicole said. "So much for Hadrian's pretense!"

"What
pretense?"

Nicole told her how he
planned to play the lovesick fool to remove all suspicion about the reason
behind their abrupt wedding.

"There is that
gossip, too," Martha said eagerly. "Sarah's the one who said she
heard that Clayborough is absolutely mad about you and
that
is the real
reason for such haste."

"Who would believe
that?" Nicole asked sadly, her heart wrenching anew.

"I would."

Nicole jerked. "Now
you're being foolish."

"Time will tell
all, won't it?"

The possibility that, in
time, the Duke might come to love her flooded her with such fierce yearning
that Nicole choked. "He is a cold man," she whispered, but she
remembered him in the library, embracing her as if she were a phantom that
might disappear at any instant. Embracing her as if he needed her desperately.
As if he loved her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to remember—not wanting to
hope.

Martha suddenly smiled.
"This won't be like the last time, Nicole. Scandal cannot hurt you now,
not as the Duke's bride. Not as his wife."

Nicole took a breath,
composing herself. "I must face it, musn't I? I am going to marry him—and
in a week and a half's time. There is nothing I can do to avoid it."

Martha stared at her
solemnly. "You ran away from Percy. You could always run away again."

Nicole gazed back at her
dear friend. How could she possibly explain to Martha that she would not even
consider jilting Hadrian in such an awful manner, when she could not even
explain it to herself?

Martha smiled. "But
you won't, will you, Nicole? And it's not because the Duke won't let you."

Wisely, Nicole did not
respond, for she had no plausible response to make.

Hadrian returned to
Clayborough House in a black humour. His lawyers had spent the day with Shelton
finning up the marriage contracts, and several hours ago he had signed them
with a flourish. Then he had dressed with unusual care to pay a proper call
upon his bride. He had no illusions; he was certain she would be in a fine
temper—as fine a temper as she had been in last night. He was prepared to hold
his own responses in check, and he resolved not to be goaded by anything she
said or did.

He had not seen her.
Upon arriving at Tavistock Square, the butler had informed him with
expressively dismal eyes that Nicole was indisposed. Although the man's face
was impassive, it was clear he was lying for his mistress and was distressed at
denying the Duke. Shortly afterward the Countess appeared. She apologetically
informed him that Nicole was ill and confined to her bed. Hadrian could guess
exactly how ill she was, and just what the cause was of her malady.

He pretended to accept
Jane's excuses, inquired politely after Nicole's health, and informed the
Countess that he would return on the morrow, and hopefully, Nicole would be
well enough to receive him then. Yet once he was ensconced in his coach, the
civil facade he'd worn dropped.

He strode into
Clayborough House, so irritated and preoccupied that he did not even see
Woodward, who was waiting for him to hand him his coat. He slammed the doors of
the library resoundingly shut. He did not need this pretense of hers to know
that she was unhappy with the arrangements. She had already made her feelings
very clear when she had rejected his suit out of hand herself.

This game would end soon
enough, he thought grimly. The Countess had understood his veiled warning that
Nicole had better receive him on the morrow. If she insisted upon being so
openly opposed to their union, how was he going to save her from scandal? He
was trying to protect her, yet her actions were going to undo all that he
sought to accomplish.

Yet he should have known
better than to expect her to demurely accept wedlock to him when it was
arranged without her consent. There was nothing demure or passive about Nicole
and there never had been. Hadn't he secretly admired her more than once for her
daring disregard of convention? Yet now was not the time to contravene the
social codes. That reckless streak that so attracted him— and he assumed that
this was the lure she possessed— would make his intentions to protect her that
much harder to fulfill.

But fulfill them he
would.

She was going to become
his wife, and as such, she would gain not just his name, his title and his
wealth, but the respect that was due her as well. He had never given a damn
before about what his peers said about him. He had always known that they were
not just in awe of him, but secretively harbored some degree of doubt about
him, as well. But now there would be no more doubts, not about him, and not
about his wife.