Read The Aristocrat's Lady (Love Inspired Historical) Online
Authors: Mary Moore
“No,” Nicole replied, softly. “I have often dreamed of attending Drury Lane, but Mama has not allowed us the time on this trip.” She laughed and shook her head. “I shall put myself beyond the pale by telling you that as a child I wished to be an actress. I was quite downcast for several weeks and took my parents seriously to task for being wellborn!”
“I have a new respect and compassion for your mother and father, my dear. Had I been your sire, I may have resorted to locking you in your room until you reached your majority.”
Devlin had a difficult time keeping his eyes off her face. She made no reply, but her smile seemed to shine directly from her heart. What an unusual woman! She truly enjoyed his light banter, unlike the females who tittered and slapped his arm while declaring him a horrible tease.
Conversation ceased for several moments as Lord Devlin maneuvered his team through the busy city streets. Very soon they were past the outskirts of London, and Devlin chose a path along the Thames which he knew was less traveled.
“The roses and honeysuckle smell simply wonderful,” Lady Nicole said. Her eyes closed in the enjoyment of it. “I do not believe I have been to this part of the city before.”
The voice of her manservant sounded from behind them. It momentarily diverted Lord Devlin’s attention.
“There’s them yellow roses you love so much over to the right, my lady.”
“Ah, Toby, thank you,” she said as she turned her head in that direction.
Perhaps, thought Devlin, she was one of the very progressive elite who allowed their servants much freedom. He knew his grandmother gave her servants much license; she believed them to be her equals in God’s eyes. More likely, Lady Nicole’s accident had given him more prominence than was usual. Devlin was certainly puzzled by the enigma.
He slowed his horses to a sedate trot. The almost deserted lane allowed him to turn his full attention to the lovely woman beside him.
“The time has come, my lady,” Devlin began. “I have waited patiently during the past two weeks to hear all about you. I would like a history of Lady Nicole Beaumont, and I shall not hesitate to quiz your charming mother should you try to dissemble.”
Nicole seemed easier in his company today, but still showed signs of reticence. She would make a teasing comment with a sparkle in her eye, then her countenance would change and he sensed an inner turmoil in her. He would take an oath she had been happy just seconds before, then as quickly, her thoughts seemed to take her deep inside herself.
He had been intrigued since meeting her, yet he admitted that her many facets might require more attention than he had ever invested in a woman. He had promised himself that after his marriage to Vivian, he
would only enter into a relationship with all the cards on the table. He knew he must marry again eventually; as head of the family he must produce an heir. But he justified that at the age of one and thirty he had plenty of time.
He decided he was on the verge of a relationship with this woman, he just did not know yet of what nature. Confound it! This was the third time they had met, but he felt so drawn to her that he was sure he had to know her better.
Devlin had told her he wished them to be friends. But he had never been simply friends with a female. Truth to tell, he would not have believed such a relationship possible had not his own best friend, Lord Hampton, had such a friendship with the woman he had eventually married. There had been the rub! Peter had been adamant that they were just friends for years. The problem was, it had ended in their marriage. Beth was a wonderful woman, but Devlin found it hard to believe that their relationship as friends had only been the natural incline of deeper feelings. Peter even went so far as to say that having been friends first only increased the satisfaction in their marriage. Devlin felt only doubt.
But it was no use. He had allowed his curiosity to override his judgment, and he knew he would be unable to dismiss the intriguing Lady Nicole. He told himself he only wished to enjoy the remainder of the Season with a light flirtation. He would feel no remorse, as both of them had clearly dismissed marriage the night they met.
He felt her forcibly lighten her mood next to him. She apologized and drew his attention back to his earlier request. “My lord, there is no mystery
or
excitement to my life. I am afraid you shall be terribly disappointed if you have truly been waiting weeks to hear of it!” Her laughter delighted him. He found he enjoyed making her laugh and that, too, was a new feeling to him.
“I have no reluctance to tell you, my lord, I only fear boring you to tears. I would not be able to face my family should you send me home alone in your curricle.”
“You are trying to throw me off the scent, my dear, but to no avail. I am inclined to be gregarious this afternoon. Tell me about your home. Or you may talk of your parents, how well you watercolor—whatever interests you.” He paused for a moment. “And as we have agreed that we shall become fast friends, I would be honored if you would call me Jared.”
“My lord, you cannot be serious?” she asked incredulously. “You know how very improper that would be. Why, the first time anyone heard me call you such, I would be labeled forward and be ostracized from the little of the
ton
that accepts me now.” She thought he must be teasing her again, so she smiled as she said, “Or is that your diabolical plan?”
He was perfectly serious in reply, however. “Perhaps you could use my name when we are alone, as now, and my title when others are present?”
“I am afraid you give me far too much credit! I should not be able to carry it off,
my lord
,” she said. “I would be standing next to one of the patronesses of
the hallowed halls of Almack’s and say, quite without thinking, ‘Jared, pray tell me how your dear grandmother is.’” She smiled wickedly as he burst out laughing. “There would not be enough smelling salts in all of England to revive the matrons!”
“Minx,” he said, in a mischievous tone. “Very well, I shall forgo your downfall in Society,
for now
. But I beg a compromise. May we not agree on Devlin? Your address of me in public, as in private, will prevent the censure of the great ladies of Almack’s.”
“That seems fair, my lord…um, Devlin. In return, you must know that the ones closest to me do not call me Nicole. My friends call me Nick or Nicky. Should it please
you,
feel free to address me as such.” She laughed a bit as she continued, “Indeed, you quite remind me of my father when you refer to me as Nicole. He is the only one who ever did so.”
“Do not fly up into the boughs with me. Despite your strict sense of propriety, you will not deter me from calling you Nicole. You see, I believe I can safely use your Christian name in private yet appear quite formal in public. And I defy anyone to call such a beautiful woman Nick!”
He lowered his voice to a thoughtful timbre. “If it would not offend the memory you have of your father, I would greatly cherish the honor of calling you Nicole.”
She underwent another mood change, but it did not appear to be a dark one as before. He leaned closer to hear her softly spoken words and quickly had the thought that he liked the physical closeness communicating with her required.
“My lord…I mean Devlin, if you are sincere in your wish, you may certainly call me Nicole.” With downcast eyes she continued, “Indeed, I think my father would have liked you very much, and would be glad to know that someone carries on the tradition. And thank you for the wonderful compliment.”
He thought she was trying to cover embarrassment by teasing him. “Had you ever seen me at home riding astride Solomon, you would have no trouble addressing me as Nick!”
He determined to keep her thoughts buoyed. “If
that
was a wonderful compliment, I believe you have been hanging around some very dull dogs. It appears I will not have to pull out all of the stops to impress you. And I think I should give a king’s ransom to see you riding astride!” Her smile satisfied him.
He teased as well, but he was acutely aware of times she faced an inner struggle and would gently nudge her back to the present with a common question or remark.
“Very well,” she laughed. “You must forgive my wandering mind. There is so much to enjoy that I hate to spoil it. I would much prefer to hear about the places you have traveled or people you have met.” Nicole paused, chewing on her lower lip. “To own the truth, I should even like to know about your clubs and…Tattersalls! Why do they think a woman should not purchase her own horses?” She seemed to shake herself mentally. “In any event, as those places are closed to women, I have no way to picture them.”
Devlin laughed wholeheartedly. He thought she
might be expecting a set-down and was pleased to see the smile on her face.
“I hope, Nicole, we shall have many more such outings and I promise to tell you all of the secrets of a man’s world in London. Today, however, we are talking of you.”
She was embarrassed at first, but she did as he asked. “I am three and twenty years old, so you can see that I am quite on the shelf! I grew up on our estate in Cheltenham. Beaufort Hall is such a beautiful place, and my father was only really happy when he was there. The only time he went to Town was to do his duty as a Member of Parliament.”
Nicole averted her eyes, a habit he noticed she frequently employed. “He believed the love of God, sincerity and loyalty, friendship, caring for others, and honesty to be the Golden Rule of one’s life and not the exception.” She stopped for a moment, and then added, “I only wish it were possible for us to live up to those standards.” She reddened and finished, “I am afraid I often fall short.”
Devlin felt the need to reassure her. “I know some of the world do not concern themselves overmuch with honesty and loyalty. However, we cannot assume the guilt of others. You and I have already decided upon candidness, have we not?”
Nicole’s brows furrowed for an instant, but it was gone so quickly he was not entirely sure it was ever there.
“If only we
could
live with complete honesty, what a better world it would be.” She gave a pregnant pause,
and then continued, he thought, in a sardonic way. “We would have to tell poor Lady Swathmore her turbans were monstrous and Sir Richard that his famous waistcoats were abominable.”
He chuckled at the picture she presented, though her words did not convey what she had actually been thinking. He wondered at the kind of problems this lovely woman faced that sometimes seemed to take her somewhere else, while all the time remaining in his presence.
“What else would you like to know, my lord?”
“When you spoke of your father, a distant memory came to me about your parents. I believe your mother is the daughter of a viscount, is she not? And she was his only child, I think?”
“Yes, she was. Her father had been somewhat displeased not to have a male heir, but he did not disdain the distant cousin who would inherit the title. As several of my grandfather’s estates were not entailed, he specifically willed property and a generous dowry to Mama. But when she married Papa, she gave up the glitter of Town life to live with him at Beaufort Hall.”
“But your father, he was one of…seven, if I remember correctly.”
“You
are
correct. Father knew he would inherit the title, but he often lamented being the oldest. Had he not been, I believe he would have been a member of the clergy. He was interested in education and spiritual matters from an early age.”
Nicole sighed in frustration. “Are you
sure
you wish me to go on with this?” she queried.
“By all means, I assure you I am riveted.”
“My mother’s parents were not happy with the match. They did not like that she was ‘buried’ in the country away from all her friends
and
the diversity of Society. But Mama had been spoiled from birth, so she could not be gainsaid. She immersed herself with father’s people and, for the most part, has always been quite content there.”
She let out a breath, happy that he had his information. However, he was not quite finished.
“I assume their happiness increased tenfold with the birth of their baby daughter?”
“Your sarcasm leaves little to be desired, my lord.” She pretended hurt feelings, but he saw the amusement in the appearance of one lone dimple.
“I was not being sarcastic, and I thought we agreed on Devlin.”
She hurried on before he could speak again. “My parents had a heart for children.” They had already planned a school for the little ones of the local gentry and the tenants who could spare them.
“My father was the most giving of men—of his time, his money, even just his ear—and I loved helping him tend the estate. It was a wonderful childhood. Unfortunately my mother’s parents were killed in a carriage accident soon after I was born.” She did not go to her dark place at these words. He wondered at it. But her eyes crinkled with her smile and she said, “Ten years later we were surprised by the birth of Chelsea.”
Devlin felt the old questions coming to the surface as they sometimes did when he was with his grandmother.
How could she believe a loving God would take her grandparents in a carriage accident so suddenly when they had only just begun to enjoy being a family? He wanted to ask her because somehow he thought she could explain it to him in a way his own grandmother could not. They were almost back in Berkeley Square, and somehow he knew it would be an intense conversation; perhaps it would be better saved for a later date.
She had already been speaking again during his thoughts. “…yes, you may groan at the word. I am quite the bluestocking!”
How very different she was from anyone he had ever met! All the more because she had no way of knowing that being well-read was not disparaging in his eyes. And despite her horrified whisper, he knew she really did not care whether she had horrified him or not. He could not come up with the proper rejoinder before she started again.
“But the Bible has always been my favorite book. I love the idea that man could, with God’s help, achieve the wisdom of Solomon. Indeed, that is how my horse got his name!”