***
While Bella chatted to Nicholas, Carrie observed him. Lean and dark, he was as she remembered him, a little older and more mature. Behind his polite demeanor, there was a haunted look in his fine gray eyes. He had suffered heartbreak with the loss of his father and brother, she remembered with compassion. When she’d first met him, his good looks had captivated her. So handsome in his captain’s uniform. But then the reason for his visit became clear, and she unfairly blamed him, fearing her happy days at Leeming Hall were about to end. At fourteen, she’d been beneath his notice. Now that she was almost twenty-one, surely he would respect her opinion and discuss Bella and Jeremy with her as an adult. He must agree it would be best for Bella to live with her once Carrie was married.
“You should have seen him, Carrie.” Bella giggled as she described the antics of Nicholas’s whippet chasing a ball into the pond. “When Chester jumped into the waterlilies, he thought it was solid ground. He got such a shock when he sank into the water!”
“Cold this time of year,” Nicholas said, amused. His voice, deep and warm, sent tingles through her. He was entirely too attractive. With a sip of tart lemonade, she reminded herself how important it was to remain alert and coolly observant until she was sure of his character. The one thing that made her easy in her mind was how much her father liked and trusted him. But men weren’t always good judges of character, for Papa had been taken in by the Irish peddler who sold him a clock that never worked.
Nicholas had been most unreasonable about the harp!
Why had her father chosen him? Papa could have asked Aunt Penelope, although Carrie understood why he hadn’t. She almost shivered at the prospect of living with her aunt, whose rheumatism made her rather sharp-tongued and demanding.
If only he were married, his wife would have made this so much easier. But as there was no one else to take them. She must accept her father’s wishes.
Carrie looked up to find his eyes on her from where he sat opposite, his long legs stretched out over the carpet. His feet in the leather shoes were much larger than her father’s. It shouldn’t have caught her attention, and yet somehow did, because they reminded her of his masculinity and the authority he would hold over their lives.
She turned away and smiled at her sister. “How is Scotty? Does she like it here?”
“She does,” Bella replied. “Scotty loves Leeming Hall, but this house is much newer, the floors don’t creak, and the draft doesn’t seep through the cracks around the window frames.” Bella cast another apologetic glance at Nicholas, whose lips twitched as if he fought a smile. “Scotty would come back with us to Leeming in a heartbeat.” Bella heaved an enormous sigh. “But she says that when I make my debut, she will go to live with her sister in Kent.”
Carrie smiled reassuringly at her sister because Bella’s eyes had grown anxious. “Everything will be all right after she leaves. And we must let her go, dearest, and wish her well when the time comes.”
With a quick glance at Nicholas, she found a thoughtful expression in his eyes which she suspected missed little. She nervously toyed with a curl, dislodging it from its pins. It was a dreadful nervous habit. She really must stop. He watched her with faint amusement. Unreasonably annoyed with him, Carrie flushed and tucked the lock behind her ear. She wanted to persuade him to change his mind about the harp, which was important to Bella. But she wasn’t confident of success. There was a hint of steel behind his affable manner, which might come from ordering a company of men during the war. The way ahead seemed daunting. Her shoulders drooped.
“You will be fatigued after your journey.” He stood. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Until dinner, ladies.” He crossed the carpet with long, graceful strides and left the room. He had a natural grace, aided by clothes fashioned by the best tailors. Nicholas made her feel travel-soiled and drab. It was because she was tired. A thorough wash and a change of clothes would see her to rights. But she wished she were more confident of the future.
Bella turned to Carrie, her eyes shining. “Well, what do you make of my guardian? I think he’s splendid.”
Carrie stared at the closed door. “Splendid?” He certainly was in appearance, as was his home. She looked around at the pretty room, the delicate Italian chandelier, the wallpaper in the Chinese style, the silk curtains, and damask sofas, the afternoon sun streaming in through the long windows and spreading warm fingers across the blue and gold carpet. She hadn’t noticed how fine it was because Nicholas’s presence seemed to fill the room.
“… and he acts a little gruff at times,” Bella continued. “But that is because he feels he should.” Bella paused, looking for a response. “I believe he’ll be pleased to share his home with Jeremy and me, don’t you agree?”
“I’m sure he will,” Carrie rushed to reassure her. But she distrusted Bella’s opinion and was slightly unnerved at her rowdy brother living here in this well-ordered estate.
Bella jumped up and tugged on Carrie’s arm. “Come and see your bedchamber. You are so fortunate, Carrie. It overlooks the rose arbor, and you can make out the lake when the sun shines on the water.”
“I shan’t be here for long, dearest,” Carrie felt obliged to remind her as they climbed the marble staircase, crushingly aware of how unhappy Bella would be when she left.
“I know,” Bella said in a mournful tone. “But Nicholas has promised he will take us to London to visit you.”
Carrie paused on a step and stared at Bella. “Do you think he meant it?”
“I think so.” Bella frowned. “Don’t you like him, Carrie?”
“I certainly don’t dislike him,” Carrie said hastily. “I have yet to form an opinion.”
Had Nicholas offered just to appease her sister? Bella had probably prodded him into a declaration. But the House of Lords would require several trips to the city. And surely he would visit his sister, Lady Genevieve, in her Mayfair townhouse. Carrie couldn’t see why he couldn’t bring Bella and Jeremy with him. A little relieved, she continued up the stairs.
Later, when Bella had returned to the schoolroom, Carrie waited for her maid to come and unpack her clothes in her pretty bedchamber decorated in floral, rose pink wallpaper. Whether Nicholas came to see her in London or not was hardly important. She expected to be entirely too busy to notice.
Chapter Four
Candlelight from the silver candelabrum softened the dining room walls papered in dull red and gold chinoiserie. From his position at the end of the table, Nicholas considered the room greatly improved by the additions to his household: Bella in white and Carrie in a flattering gown of primrose with a low neckline. He gave serious attention to his napkin as Abercrombie served the wine.
Nicholas held the crystal glass up to the light. “This wine is corked, Abercrombie. Replace it, will you?”
“I shall attend to it, my lord.” His butler whisked the carafe from the table and left the room.
Nicholas grimaced. He should not have been short with Abercrombie. His butler’s eyesight wasn’t as good as it used to be, and even worse at night. He’d declined the offer of a handsome pension, and Nicholas saw no reason he should retire, although he made sure Abercrombie had few duties to perform after dark.
Bella talked about a puzzle she’d discovered among the books and toys in the schoolroom. “We assembled it as children,” she said. “I wondered why you would have it, Nicholas.”
“My sister’s young son, Bartholomew, stays here occasionally. He’s a cheeky young fellow.” Nicholas was fond of the child. He knew where he was with a five-year-old boy. Youngsters made their thoughts and feelings known.
After the footman served the first course, Nicholas put down his spoon with a sigh. “Trouble in the kitchen, Abercrombie,” he said when his butler appeared with another carafe of wine. “The soup appears to be cold.”
“Take it away,” Abercrombie ordered the footman. “I am sorry, my lord. The chef has had another argument with one of the kitchen staff.”
; “Again? Dear heaven. I would expect better service in the army,” Nicholas said. “It serves me right for employing the French chef the Prince of Wales recommended.”
Bella gazed at him owlishly, while Carrie thinned her lips. Their governess had the good sense to lower her head and butter a roll.
Nicholas took himself and the matter in hand. “I must apologize. Dinner will delight the palate, I am sure, when we finally get it. Unless the chef has stabbed the fellow with the carving knife, then it might be cheese and biscuits.”
Bella giggled, and Carrie smiled so sweetly, Nicholas’s heart skipped a beat. He adjusted his neckcloth with a deep frown. Startled, the footman’s hand shook as he removed his soup plate.
As Abercrombie attempted to add water to her wine, Bella placed her hand over her glass. “If I cannot grow used to drinking wine undiluted, how shall I manage when I go to London? I shall get foxed,” she said, appealing to him with big green eyes.
“I am sure you will manage when the time comes.” Nicholas gestured to Abercrombie to continue to pour the water.
“Bella! Where did you hear that language?” Carrie gently scolded her pouting sister.
“Jeremy, of course,” Bella said. “There are several words for being…”
“But we shall not hear them tonight,” Nicholas said. If this continued, he would suffer a bad stomach and have to retire early in his role of aged uncle. Perhaps a shawl over the shoulders?
They served dinner at last, and his promise held true. No blood apart from the roast had been drawn in the kitchen. Pierre produced a feast, the dessert as good as anything the prince’s pastry cook, Marie Antoine Carême, might have created.
After the meal, they retired to the drawing room where Carrie, seated decoratively at the piano, played the instrument well but with little passion, while Bella sang with exuberance and happily, in tune. Nicholas thoroughly enjoyed their performance and demanded an encore. He jumped up to join them and sang the male part of The Lass from Richmond Hill. Afterward, the governess made up a four for whist.
He and Bella won, which earned him a kiss on the cheek, for which Miss Scotsdale scolded her. Even Carrie laughed, making her brown eyes sparkle. It was perhaps the first time she’d been at ease and amused since she came here. Nicholas drew in a breath, struck by how lovely she was. The man who made her laugh would be a lucky fellow indeed.
Later, he entered his bedchamber, where Peterson, his valet, waited to assist him.
Nicholas removed his neckcloth. Tonight made him realize he enjoyed company. He must invite the neighbors to dinner more often.
He undid the buttons on his waistcoat. But most of those within driving distance were older and rather sedate. It was agreeable to have enthusiastic young people around him. They lifted his spirits. Not enough to want to marry and sire his own, however. He knew himself too well. He was incapable of loving a woman fiercely again. It would be dishonest to enter marriage knowing this unless his bride was of the same mind. A mediocre marriage out of necessity wasn’t for him. For what sort of life was that?
He’d told Max marriage wasn’t for everyone. And for what Nicholas had seen of some couples, it could be more hell than heaven. He loved his parents, but his childhood wasn’t a happy one. His father preferred hunting and gambling to his mother’s company. As a youth, Nicholas saw how unhappy she was. But it didn’t seem to concern his brother, Emory, who was more like his father. Nicholas favored his mother, who was bookish. She would have liked to study at university, but regrettably, that was not available to women.
Better to remain a bachelor and enjoy the peace and order it afforded him. He could continue with his treatise on the Napoleonic Wars.
The one matter which did trouble him was the necessity for sons. Without an heir, his cousin Eustice would inherit. Eustice had been prepared to step into Nicholas’s shoes when he went away to fight Napoleon and continued to show an interest in the estate’s running.
Bella and Carrie might have large broods. He could see himself at christenings and birthday dinners, then happily departing and returning to his quiet existence. He had not always felt this way, he acknowledged with a sad pang. Marriage had once been very much on his mind, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. These days he sought a like-minded woman for a pleasurable liaison, and after it ended amicably, was content to return alone to Elm Park.
As the mantel clock struck twelve, Nicholas dismissed his valet and climbed into bed. How much happier Carrie was tonight. When she laughed, her brown eyes were like deep, warm chocolate. He saw that having her here would be a distraction. But once she’d gone to London, he could settle down to his work. He hadn’t written a line since she came, and he disliked his routine being disrupted. He must return to it tomorrow: breakfast followed his ride, and then he worked from nine to twelve, with estate matters after luncheon. He yawned and blew out the candle. Things were working out better than he expected.
***
“Has the staff made you welcome?” Carrie asked her maid as she undressed.
“Yes, Miss Carrie.” Her eyes widened. “There was an argument in the kitchen. The chef yelled all these French words. Couldn’t understand a word of it, but it fair chilled my blood.”
“What is the housekeeper’s name, Anna?” Carrie had yet to meet her.
“There isn’t one. She was dismissed, apparently.”
A house the size of Elm Park could hardly function without one. “Why, what happened? Have they employed another?”
“I don’t know.”
Dismissed? Why? Positions such as this were very difficult to find. It seemed a cruel thing to do. Did the poor woman make a mistake? Carrie frowned. “Thank you, Anna. You may go.”
Carrie pushed her long plait over her shoulder and turned back to Bella, seated on a stool before the mirror. She picked up a brush and ran it through her sister’s hair.
Bella giggled. “Wasn’t it wonderful when Nicholas sang the duet with me?”
“He has a pleasant singing voice,” Carrie said begrudgingly, remembering his baritone and the unwelcome thrill it sent through her. Her fingers had fumbled over the keys, until with a quick breath, she’d doggedly continued. She hadn’t played her best, which annoyed her. His attractive demeanor made it difficult for her to keep her distance and remain wary of him, which she planned to do until quite sure of his character. There was that business with the housekeeper. And yet, she didn’t want to think ill of him. She struggled to understand her feelings. “I thought he was most unkind to the butler.” She tugged on a knot in Bella’s long locks.
“Ow! Do you think so? I laughed when he said we might eat cheese and biscuits for dinner. And he was such fun at whist.”
“Mm.”
“Lady Genevieve arrives tomorrow. I do hope you like her,” Bella said. The reflection of her eyes in the mirror searched Carrie’s.
“Of course, I will like her,” Carrie said. It would be so awkward if she didn’t. “It is extremely kind of her to chaperone me for the Season.”
“Yes, but…”
“But what, dearest?”
“You don’t seem very happy, Carrie.”
Not liking the miserable expression on her younger sister’s face, Carrie smiled to reassure her. “I confess to being a little nervous about going to London, that’s all.”
“Why? You are beautiful. Everyone says so.”
She put down the brush. “It all seems so rushed. I don’t know if I’m ready to marry.”
“But we will stay together? If you do find a husband who will let me come, too, I mean?”
“Let’s not think about it now, Bella. I don’t intend to marry just anybody,” she said, her fingers busy plaiting her sister’s thick, wavy hair. Her choice would certainly not be a heartless, dictatorial man who dismissed his staff without a reference. “These things take time.”
Bella looked doubtful. “Might it be that long, though? Marian Foulkes married in her first Season.”
“Yes, I kno
w.” Trying not to gasp at the prospect, she twisted a ribbon around the braid with nervous fingers and tied a bow. “But I shall always put you and Jeremy first,” she said firmly. “There.” She gave Bella’s shoulder a pat.
Bella turned on the stool. “I know you will, Carrie. It makes me feel guilty. That’s why I’m so glad we have Nicholas.”
“Yes. How fortunate we are.” Carrie kissed her sister’s head. “Now, off to bed with you. Or Scotty will be cross.”
When Bella left, Carrie wandered over to the window. She sat on the window seat and gazed down at the garden, shadowy under a crescent moon. The scent of lilacs wafted in on the soft breeze. It was beautiful here. How pleased she was for Bella and Jeremy. They had a comfortable, safe place in which to live. But Nicholas, well, there remained certain things about him that worried her. He became exasperated with other’s failings, and as a bachelor, would surely dislike having the responsibility of them. Would he take enough interest in Bella and Jeremy, who needed so much? Especially Jeremy, who had taken their father’s death so hard? Despite her concerns, she came up to bed tonight feeling a little relieved. He had been patient and amiable with Bella during the card game and charming when he sang a duet with her. Thinking of it made Carrie smile.
Why hadn’t he married? It was years since he’d returned from the war. He was past thirty and must have need of an heir. Might he suffer effects after his wartime experiences, as some men in Yorkshire did? She sighed. It was unlikely she would learn the reason.
With a frown, she untied the ribbons on her dressing gown. Why he remained single was no concern of hers. They would see little of him in London once she was under his sister’s care. He wouldn’t have to concern himself with her at all. Until an offer had been made, at least. With an anxious intake of breath, she removed her slippers, drew back the covers, and climbed into bed.
She snuffed out the candle, pummeled her feather pillows, and lay back, closing her eyes. Nicholas’s face remained in her mind, as clear as if he stood before her. Sometimes, a corner of his mouth would lift in a sort of gentle, ironic twist as if he saw amusement in things others might not see. With an annoyed huff, Carrie turned on her side. He certainly could be appealing when it suited him.
Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2) Page 3