Stolen Love (29 page)

"Perhaps the trip here exhausted him," she suggested, "and he wanted only to relax."

Nicholas snorted in answer. "Will you come down to meet him?"

"Of course. Just let me finish this." She sat down to add a final sentence or two, then blotted the letter and directed it before slipping it into the pocket of her skirt.

"Give it to Carsons, he'll post it for you." Nicholas took her hand when they reached the door. "I've told Henry about us, and he wants to meet you."

"Ah, Miss Elizabeth," Lord Eversleigh said when she followed Nicholas into the drawing room.

She was surprised to see that Henry Villines was not handsome. He was tall, though not as tall as Nicholas. His hair was dark brown, like his eyes. His face was narrow with thin lips and high, hollow cheeks. He lacked the maturity that might have given his features strength. Her impression of him was not improved by the fact that he had obviously not had enough sleep during the past days. There were dark smudges under his eyes, which were slightly red, and his complexion was sallow. He did have a pleasant voice; in fact, it was his voice that made some women find him attractive. He had a rasping cough he declared he would shake in a day or two.

"Nicholas tells me you are to be married," Henry said after they were introduced. He examined her critically, just long enough and curiously enough to bring a blush to her cheeks. "Congratulations to you both."

"Thank you." She was glad to take a seat next to Nicholas.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner, Grandfather." Henry sat, sliding down on the chair and leaving his legs straight out in front of him. He grinned at Elizabeth before looking at his grandfather. "But I was detained in Bath."

"Well, you are here now," said Eversleigh. "And I am very glad of that."

"Where's Carsons with the damned brandy?" Henry made an impatient gesture.

"I told him it was too early for drink, Henry. And you will please refrain from such language while you are here. This is neither the time"— Lord Eversleigh indicated Elizabeth—"nor the place to be indelicate."

"Forgive me, will you, Miss Willard? May I call you Elizabeth?"

"Of course, Mr. Villines."

"And you shall call me Henry. You know, I've a da— A very troublesome headache. I wonder, Grandfather, if a glass of brandy shouldn't do me a world of good, just now."

"Perhaps you ought to lie down," Elizabeth suggested. "It might improve your headache after such a long trip."

"Do you know, I think I shall do just that." Henry stood up. "Do you mind if I do?" He looked at Lord Eversleigh, who nodded his assent. "Well then. It was a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth, and a damned shame I didn't meet you sooner. Though, come to think of it, I doubt if I could have gotten you away from Nicholas."

"Henry!"

"Sorry, Grandfather. It's this bloody headache of mine. Good afternoon."

"He's worse than I thought," said Lord Eversleigh when Henry was gone.

"Cut him off for a while," said Nicholas. "If that doesn't cure him of his bad habits, nothing will."

"I should keep him here for a month or two, until that cough clears up." He sighed, then looked at Elizabeth. "You, at least, will not disappoint both me and Nicholas?"

She smiled. "No, my lord."

Nicholas stood up. "Will you excuse us? I should like to take Elizabeth for a walk in the gardens."

They walked slowly, each watching their lengthening shadows on the ground. "I sent Chester to London last night," Nicholas said when he broke the silence. "To get this." He took something from his pocket and stopped walking. "This was my mother's." He took the necklace from its box and held it up. A single diamond suspended from the delicate chain sparkled in the fading afternoon light.

"It's beautiful, Nicholas."

"I want you to have it."

When he had fastened it around her neck, she turned to face him. "I keep thinking this is all a dream," she said. "And then I realize it is not—" She grasped one of his hands and held it so she could stroke his fingers. "I think how you have touched me, how even now I long to have you touch me, and it frightens me. I'm afraid something will happen to spoil my happiness. I wish we were married now, so nothing could take you away from me."

"Elizabeth, we were meant to be."

"Nothing is meant to be, Nicholas. Anything at all might happen. That's why we must take our happiness where we find it, and pray that we do not lose it too soon." She waited for the noise of a carriage rumbling over the courtyard flagstones to stop. "I've found my happiness, and now I'm afraid I will lose it."

"You aren't afraid of them, are you?"

She knew he meant Amelia and Mrs. Willard. "No." She looked at him. "I don't care what they think."

"Are you sure?" he asked teasingly. "I could always marry Amelia, just to make your aunt happy, you understand."

Her smile faded. "Don't joke. It might have been."

"But it isn't." He pulled her into his arms. "This"—he stroked her cheek—"is what is. And, if you like, we can go hide in my room until supper."

"Someone will see us." She did not say it with much conviction.

"So? There's a back way. We must take our happiness where we find it, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth had just slipped into her room when Miss Lincoln came in with her freshly ironed dress. "There you are. I took the liberty of pressing this." She held up the rose gown for her approval. Elizabeth nodded. "Where have you been?" Miss Lincoln asked.

"In the garden."

"Mrs. Willard finally gave up looking for you." Miss Lincoln glanced at the dress and smiled. "Are you laced tight enough?"

"No." Elizabeth touched the necklace Nicholas had given her. "Was she very upset?"

"She thinks you're being ungrateful." Miss Lincoln began unbuttoning Elizabeth's dress and helped her to step out of it. "She's in a mood because of Amelia, I suppose."

"What do you mean?"

"She's worked herself up because Mr. Villines hasn't proposed to her yet." She yanked cruelly on the laces of the corset, and Elizabeth put a hand on the bedpost to steady herself. "This dress is such a lovely color for you, Miss Elizabeth."

"I shall die from this, I know it." She turned around when Miss Lincoln had tied the laces.

"I did not breathe a word, miss. About you and Mr. Villines, I mean," Miss Lincoln explained when Elizabeth said nothing. "All the servants know. Not that it came as any great surprise. Every time I saw him looking at you with those black eyes of his, I wondered why you didn't just faint at his feet."

"What!"

"Everyone talked about Mr. Villines and Miss Amelia, but I knew it was you he loved."

The party to celebrate the birthdays of Lord Eversleigh and Nicholas was not an elaborate one. Only the viscount's closest friends were invited. Lord and Lady Lewesfield had arrived from London just before dark and the rector, Mr. Franklin Conmarre, and his wife not long after. Henry was planted on a chair with a drink in one hand, listening with an abstracted expression to Mr. Joseph Eldon explain the perils of farming in Kent to Havoc and Mr. Villines.

When Elizabeth entered the drawing room, Nicholas was standing with Amelia and Mr. and Mrs. Conmarre. Amelia, looking radiant, was wearing the gown she and Mrs. Willard had picked up from the dressmaker in Dover that afternoon. She was watching Nicholas, and when he saw Elizabeth, Amelia followed his gaze.

"There you are!" Amelia exclaimed. "Why, Beth, I do think we were beginning to despair of your ever coming down. Do come here. Mr. Conmarre, Mrs. Conmarre, this is my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Willard."

"A pleasure, Miss Willard," said Mr. Conmarre.

"Good evening," Elizabeth said.

"We thought perhaps you had disappeared. Amelia put a hand on Nicholas's arm. "Did we not?" she asked him. "Do tell us, what were you reading this time, Beth?"

"Actually, Elizabeth was keeping me amused most of the afternoon," Nicholas said. "Witchford Runs was rather dull without two of its guests."

"How very kind of you." Amelia smiled limply then glanced to where Henry was seated. "Nicholas, is that your cousin?"

Nicholas looked at Henry. "Yes, it is."

"Will you think me too forward if I ask you to introduce me now?"

"Not at all. If you will excuse us, Mr. Conmarre, Mrs. Conmarre."

Elizabeth was left to hear to Mr. Conmarre's description of his efforts to remodel the rectory. She listened politely but kept one eye on Nicholas and Amelia.

"Ah, Miss Amelia!" said Russell Villines. He frowned at Henry, who remained seated.

"Good evening, sir."

"I'd like you to meet my nephew, the Honorable Henry Villines. You were not here when he arrived his afternoon."

Henry finished his appraisal of Amelia, then rose at last. "I see the Miss Willards are equally beautiful." He bent over Amelia's hand.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Villines. I'm sure Beth will be pleased when I repeat the compliment to her."

"Beth?" He looked puzzled.

"She means Elizabeth, Henry," Nicholas said.

"Well, you must be very happy for her, Miss Willard."

It was Amelia's turn to look puzzled. "Happy for her?"

"Henry means you must be happy that Elizabeth is feeling better now."

"I didn't know she was unwell, Nicholas," Henry cried with a look of alarm. "She looked fine this afternoon. In the bloody bloom of health. I would never have guessed she was feeling unwell."

"Elizabeth was recovered by the time you were introduced."

"Well, thank God for that. Tell me. Miss Willard, where have you been hiding yourself? Why didn't you come to meet me this afternoon?"

"I've not been hiding anywhere, Mr. Villines. My mother and I went to Dover for the day."

"Just got back from Bath myself. The trip gave me a blasted awful headache. So, I suppose you might as well have been hiding from me, eh?"

"Why, Nicholas, where are you going?" Amelia tapped his chest with her fan when he started to leave. "You've been neglecting me most shamefully. I do hope Mr. Henry Villines is not as neglectful as you."

"I should say it was the other way round, Amelia. You were the one who left Witchford Runs today."

Amelia giggled and was about to answer when supper was announced. She turned to extend an arm to Nicholas.

"Perhaps Henry will do you the honor, Amelia."

"I'd be delighted."

Elizabeth was chagrined when Amelia was seated across from her. In all truthfulness, she had been hoping to be nowhere near either her aunt or her cousin. She dreaded what was to come. Fortunately, for the time being there were both Henry and Nicholas to keep Amelia entertained. Henry's interest in Amelia was all the reason she needed to sparkle, and in truth, at first he was rather entertaining. But he drank more than he ate, and before long the sound of his too loud laughter was heard often in the room.

Just as dessert was being served, Henry leaned over to Amelia. "Do you know, Miss 'melia," he said in a loud whisper, "I think you are almost as pretty as your cousin. I don't know how Nicholas made up his mind."

"Indeed, Mr. Villines?" Amelia leaned away from him and found herself looking at Elizabeth. She seized on the opportunity to turn away from Henry's increasingly unwelcome attentions. Her blue eyes settled on the diamond hanging from Elizabeth's neck. "Tell me, Beth, where did you get that lovely necklace?"

"Nicholas gave it to me."

"Nicholas?" She turned to look at Nicholas. "How very kind!"

Henry chuckled. "I see Nicholas and I have something in common."

"And what is that, Mr. Villines?" Amelia asked.

"Pray tell," put in Mrs. Conmarre, who had been listening avidly all the while.

"Henry, please remember yourself," Nicholas said in a low voice.

"I also give jewels to women afterward." He spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Villines," Amelia said.

"Henry!" Nicholas said.

"Oh, forgive me, Nicholas. Have I been indiscreet?"

"That will do, Henry," said Lord Eversleigh. He nodded to Carsons, and in a few moments the steward was ushering in several footmen who began to set up buckets of ice and champagne. The viscount rose and tapped his empty glass with a spoon. The conversation died as attention was fixed on him.

"Tonight," he began, "I have a very special announcement to make. One to which I believe my grandson Henry was just alluding. I have raided my wine cellar in honor of it, as you are about to see. It is a special occasion when Nicholas and I celebrate our birthdays, but tonight is even more special still." He waited until the last of the champagne glasses were filled. "In the twenty-seven years since Nicholas was born, he has given me many reasons to be proud. Now, I have reason to be prouder still. It is my great joy to announce the engagement of my grandson Nicholas to Miss Elizabeth Willard.

"I hope you will join me in this toast to their happiness." He had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the murmurs of approval. "I am an old man…"He waited until everyone had sipped their champagne. "And I have long encouraged my grandson to marry so I may one day brag of my great-grandsons. When he informed me of his choice, I insisted that the wedding take place in the Witchford Runs chapel, this December the thirty-first. It is my pleasure to invite you all to the wedding." He raised his glass again. There was silence while the guests followed suit, and then Mr. Villines stood and raised his glass.

"Like my father, it was with joy that I learned the attachment between Nicholas and Miss Elizabeth Willard has finally been made public. Nicholas could not have chosen a better woman, and I salute him for his taste." He paused. "Likewise, I salute Elizabeth for hers." When the laughter subsided, he continued. "I hope you will all join me in welcoming her to this family."

When the ladies left the gentlemen at the table, Elizabeth was surrounded. "Why, Beth, dear," Mrs. Willard whispered in her ear, "this is so sudden, it quite takes my breath away. You might at least have told me the two of you were in love." She kissed her niece on the cheek. "The thirty-first! Why, there will hardly be time to get you a wedding gown."