by Carrie Brock
“It makes sense. Nicole mentioned a report this morning.”
Jonathon thought for a moment. “So she did. Each year Nick prepares a detailed account with breeding schedules, prices we should ask, supplies, and what she wants to do with the profit left over after our living expenses. She'd planned to purchase new breeding stock with the profit from those horses that were killed. She said this morning she's changing her report.”
“If we make that fact known, perhaps we can catch the blackguard in the act.”
“By damned, that's an excellent idea!”
Blake frowned. Whoever had orchestrated this fiasco thus far had maintained the upper hand. Blake had seen the doubt in Nicole's eyes when she looked at him. The guilty party would pay for every moment of pain he had caused her. The prospect appealed to him immensely.
“I planned to dine alone with my aunt and several close friends tonight. Perhaps you can set our plan into action this evening?”
Jonathon grinned. “With pleasure. Would you join me for a brandy first?”
Chapter 19
. . .
A soft knock at the door brought Nicki out of a light sleep. She glanced beside her. Josey had not yet come to bed, and the candle beside her had scarcely burned down. Another knock sounded, louder this time. Nicki threw the covers aside and slipped from the bed. Shivering in her thin nightrail, she hurried to open the door.
Mina burst into the room, then jerked the knob from Nicki's hand as she pushed the door shut. Facing Nicki, her cheeks flushed pink and her blue eyes flashed with excitement.
“Mina, whyever did you knock?” Nicki pushed the hair out of her eyes and stifled a yawn.
“One never knows when or where you might be entertaining the Earl of Diamond these days.”
“Mina!”
Laughing, Mina took Nicki's hand and pulled her to the bed. “Come on, you're freezing.”
Nicki climbed back into bed without complaint. She tugged the covers over her lap while Mina sat on top of the comforter. “Mina, whatever has gotten into you?”
“I have something to tell you.” Capturing a decorative pillow in her arms, she hugged it tightly. “Do not worry, we have plenty of time. Josey is playing cards with Angelica, Papa, and Grampa Giles. When I left they had gotten through one hand and Grampa accused Josey of cheating and making up new rules.”
“You seem very excited.”
Mina squeezed the pillow until Nicki feared the stuffing might spring loose. “It has nothing to do with our endeavor. Simms hovered outside Papa's study throughout the evening. I almost believe he was guarding the door.”
At that bit of news, Nicki experienced a jolt of alarm. “You do not suppose he is on to us and is watching out for Shelby?”
“If he is, we shall simply have to deal with him when the time comes.”
“You are right. Now tell me what happened.”
Mina's blue eyes sparkled. “I did as you asked and kept my ears perked for any unusual conversations. I also periodically checked Papa's study, but as I said Simms was ever nearby. On one occasion I noticed several gentlemen entering the breakfast room, which was odd since it was well after the evening meal. They shut the door behind them.”
“I believe that constitutes suspicious behavior. Did you learn anything?”
“I stood close to the door, but could hear nothing with all the noise from the ballroom. When I was certain the hall was clear I leaned down to listen at the keyhole. They were most definitely arguing, but I could make out little of what they said. What I did hear seemed to be something about an inheritance and a necklace, but nothing close to our interests.”
Nicki released her breath, disappointed. “No, it certainly does not sound like our culprit.”
“When I realized I was eavesdropping on an argument that had nothing to do with us, I went to get up and stepped on the hem of my gown. I tried to save myself from falling, but my hand slipped from the doorframe and I sprawled full length on the floor. The door opened and one of the men stepped over me and assisted me to my feet. Oh, Nicki, I wished the floor would open up and gulp me down!”
Gasping, Nicki gripped the coverlet tightly. “Whatever did you say to him?”
Mina's eyes widened in remembered horror. “I thanked him. What else could I say? Then I looked up and nearly fainted dead away. It was Charles Armitage.”
Befuddled, Nicki pondered Mina's words. “Did he accuse you of spying?”
“Heavens no! He asked me to dance.”
“Mina, you must have addled your brains when you fell. You are beginning to sound like me.”
Throwing her head back, Mina laughed. Nicki had never known her to show such excitement. “I'm sorry. We danced and then he asked me to accompany him to the balcony for a bit of fresh air. He's very charming and ever so handsome.”
“Sister, I think you are smitten!”
“I vowed not to fall in love before my Season, but he is like no one I have ever known.” Mina pressed the corner of the pillow to her lips, then dropped it to her lap with a frown. “Am I mad?”
Nicki thought of her feelings for Blake and heard her own words echo in her sister's speech. “I am certain of it, but tell me everything. Did he kiss you?”
Mina gasped. “Heavens no! He was a perfect gentleman.”
“Kissing is very nice. You can only hope he will not prove to be too much the perfect gentleman.”
“Your earl has destroyed any inhibitions you might have had,” Mina said in disgust.
“Did he hold your hand?”
She ducked her head shyly. “Yes, and then he said my hair was like the underside of a raven's wing. But that is not what I came here to tell you. Charles spoke of his childhood. He said that his father was Barrett Dylan's cousin, and they visited Blake's home several times. He and Blake were the same age and they got on very well. The last time they visited was just after Charles' seventh birthday. The Countess of Diamond had disappeared two years earlier and the house had fallen into permanent mourning.”
“Blake's mother disappeared?”
Mina nodded. “When Charles asked Blake what had happened to her he became very upset and admitted he didn't know. It seems his father never told him and he was too afraid to ask. So Charles went to his parents and asked them what had happened to Blake's mother. He wanted to find out so that he could tell Blake, but the earl overheard and threw Charles' family out of the house. They never returned, but he never forgot his cousin's pain.”
Nicki recalled her words to Blake in the garden earlier that day and felt as though she was falling through space, spinning out of control. She had threatened to leave him. Dear God, she had said he would not deserve to know what happened to her. “What have I done?”
“You? The story has nothing to do with you. I merely thought you would like to know something about Blake. I know how close-mouthed you said he is.”
Tears filled Nicki's eyes, then spilled over. “Yes, he is. And small wonder.”
“Nicki, I didn't mean to upset you.”
“I said something to Blake this morning—something horrible. I have to make it right.” Nicki threw the covers aside and scrambled from the bed. Her fingers fumbled clumsily as she tugged on her riding boots and reached for a cloak.
“Nicki, what has gotten into you? You cannot go out at this time of night!”
Nicki paused at the window and glanced back to her sister still perched on the bed. “Please, Mina, make certain Josey does not come up for at least another hour. I have to see Blake. I have to tell him—I have to tell him I did not mean something I said. Will you?”
Mina stood and tossed aside the mangled pillow. “Of course I will, but are you certain you should be doing this?”
“I cannot allow him to fall asleep this night with my words filling his mind. I must take them back. Wish me luck, sister!”
“Good luck, then—I think.”
. . .
Nicki stepped easily across the narrow overhang, her though
ts dwelling stubbornly on Mina's words. After two years, Blake had still been tortured over his mother's disappearance. What kind of man had his father been that Blake had dared not ask what became of his mother?
The agony of her mother's death remained a powerful memory, but she had gone through the loss and grief, and with time the pain had gradually eased. How could Blake go through the grieving process when he did not know whether his mother still lived or had died?
She knew from experience the extent of a child's imagination. Nicki inwardly cringed at the thought of the small Blake wanting his mother, not knowing where she was or why she had left him. An understanding of the man came to her at the insight into the boy.
Blake had told her she did not know the darkness in his soul. She had just been offered a small peek, and she knew now she could never turn from him until she had shared all his demons. As unsuccessful as she had been with her own, perhaps she would do better vanquishing his.
Nicki shook herself. She had been standing at the edge of the overhang daydreaming when she should have been making haste. She reached out and grasped the branch she used for leverage and stepped onto the lower limb.
A crack. Almost like the snap of a whip over the carriage horses. Nicki started at the unexpected sound. The upper limb she hung on to dropped sharply and swung outward. She flailed for a moment, then lost her balance. And fell.
The hood of her cloak caught on the branch; the tie tightened about her neck like a hangman's noose.
Desperately, she clawed at the strings, gasping for air. When that didn't work, Nicki forced herself to calm and stop struggling. Looking up, she could see that she hung only a foot or so beneath the lower branch. To reach the branch, she must turn loose of the ties at her throat.
With one quick movement, Nicki grabbed for the branch. But the tips of her fingers scraped off the bottom of the limb. She could not reach up far enough to grab hold. The attempt caused the laces to tighten about her neck even more.
Sparks shot before her eyes. She felt total darkness descending on her. In one last desperate act, she grabbed the hood of her cloak and dragged herself up far enough to reach over the limb with one hand. With her other hand, she loosened the strings of her cloak and finally gulped air into her tortured lungs. Her arms trembled. Nicki called out, but the only noise she could utter was a hoarse croak.
With all her remaining strength, she lifted her body toward the limb. The muscles of her arms screamed in protest and the bark bit into her palms. She could go no further. She sagged, defeated.
Had a person ever survived a drop of thirty feet? Her fingers slipped slightly, and she could not summon the strength to renew her hold.
Nicki thought desperately of Blake. Their last words had been said in anger. And Angelica—she should not have been so unkind to her stepmother. She hoped God listened to last minute prayers, because she had a lot to answer for and very little time in which to atone.
“Nicki!”
Teddy. Tears slipped from the outer edges of her eyes to tunnel into her hair and she heard him scramble up the tree. He clasped her wrists and hoisted her up onto the branch. Nicki scooted along the limb to the tree trunk before she dared relax. Teddy followed more awkwardly. He had never liked climbing much, but he had overcome his fears to save her life. She tried to smile, but could not halt the flow of tears or form words.
“I saw you from my window. My God, I was sure you would've fallen before I could get to you.”
Nicki reached out to touch his cheek. “Th-thank you.”
“Nicki, are you alright?” Blake's voice called out from below.
“Blake!” Nicki rasped, then touched her hand to her throat, though the pain seemed to be more in the inside than the out.
Almost out of breath, he maneuvered himself up from below to a sturdy branch just beneath; high enough that they were face to face. “Quick thinking, Bartholomew.”
Teddy nodded curtly, his skin glowing ghastly pale in the semi-darkness. “Luck was with us. Are you hurt, Nick?”
“My—throat . . . ”
Blake reached out to move her hair aside. Her heart leapt at his gentle touch against the sensitive skin of her throat. “Your nightrail protected you for the most part. You might have broken your neck, young lady. From this point on I am putting an end to these dangerous escapades of yours.”
With a glance up at the jagged edges of the broken limb, Nicki fought the unruliness of her emotions. She had nearly died, yet one touch from the earl made her forget everything but the feelings he invoked. “Please . . . do not worry so. Just a silly accident. I did not realize you were here.”
He followed the direction of her gaze, his own unreadable. Nicki studied him, hoping to detect any emotion he might unwittingly reveal, but his silver gaze dropped to her face revealing no clues. “Let us get you back into the house.”
“No! I must talk to you, Blake. Teddy, I promise I am perfectly fit. See, I can speak much better. Would you please leave us alone?”
Looking as if he would like nothing more than to argue, Teddy finally gave a loud sigh. “You should be in bed. When I think of what might've happened . . . ”
She reached out to take his free hand. “But it did not, Teddy, thanks to you, my guardian angel.”
“If I were truly your guardian angel, you would've had no reason to be out here endangering your safety in the middle of the night.”
“I can take over from here, Bartholomew.” Blake spoke quietly, but firmly.
Teddy slid backward on the branch. When he reached the overhang, he turned back. “Try to watch out for her a little better in the future, Dylan. This world would be a frightful place without her in it.”
“I intend exactly that.”
Nicki watched as Teddy slipped through her bedroom window, then pulled the glass down to leave several inches of space. Now that she was alone with Blake, she could not recall the words she intended to use.
She had to try. “Blake . . . ”
He leaned close, and his mouth covered hers with such ferocity that Nicki swallowed her words and quickly forgot them. The intensity of his emotions flamed in that kiss. Whether he wittingly revealed them or reacted to them blindly, Nicki did not care. She released her hold on the branch and pressed into his warmth, clutching at his shoulders as she had the tree only moments before. In response, his arms tightened around her and pulled her to him as though he could meld her into a part of himself. A heat flared within her, rising to reveal itself a worthy match for Blake's passion. She exalted in the satiny heat of his mouth, the mingling of their breaths.
He drew back to stare into her face, his breathing harsh. “When I saw you hanging from that branch I thought I had been dealt the killing blow and you were dead. Damn you, I never want to feel like this again! I swore I would never care so much!”
Instead of cringing from his rage, Nicki reached out to touch her palm to the muscle flinching in his jaw. “What I said in the garden earlier today, that I would leave you if you misbehaved . . . It was wrong of me to say it. I love you, Blake Dylan, and I swear to you I will never leave you of my own free will. If you want rid of me, you will have to kill me. I mean that.”
His gaze searched her face, harsh, unbelieving—hopeful. “What do you know of love, little Nicole?”
“I know that you have become a vital part of me. Without you I could not go on. Is that love?”
Blake laughed harshly. “Is it? What do I know of love?”
Nicki pressed her lips to his forehead. “I can teach you what I know. Love is protecting someone at any cost, overlooking their faults, exalting in their strengths. It is joy and laughter, but it is also pain and loss. You know that perhaps better than I.”
His shoulders sagged and he dropped his head onto Nicki's shoulder. “When I saw you hanging there—it turned me cold inside. I thought I had lost the only person I cared about. Again.”
Tears streamed from Nicki's eyes as she wrapped her arms about him and hung on wi
th all her strength.
“But you did not. I am safe and sound.”
His hands tightened on her waist. “She left me. I loved my mother more than anything and she went away.”
“I know,” she whispered, stroking the thickness of his black hair. “Sometimes, no matter how much we care we are unable to hold on.”
“Why did my father not tell me? He should have told me she was ill. At least I would have known it was nothing I did.”
Nicki's heart cried with him. She understood—only too well. He wiped at his face until she captured his hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “People are all too human, Blake. Because of the depth of our love we can expect too much.”
His tears had gone, and so had the mask he so carefully maintained. Pain radiated from him. “All these years, I thought she left because of me. My father's silence confirmed my belief. He would not speak of her, would not allow her name to be mentioned. Until recently, I thought he was a man of stone, that he cared for no one.”
“But you know differently now?”
He took her hands lightly, staring at their entwined fingers. “My Aunt Sophia gave me a box several days ago that belonged to my father. I remembered it because the only likeness of my mother allowed in the house stood next to this box on my father's dressing table.” He paused, as though remembering. Nicki waited, not wanting to break the slender tie that bound them in this moment. “Inside were letters. On the top were correspondences between my father and a Runner he had used to keep tabs on me in America. It must have been difficult with the war going on, but somehow the mighty Earl of Diamond managed.”
“So now you know how much he loved you.”
“I suppose he must have. I only wish he could have told me.”
Nicki sighed. “The wicked tricks time plays upon us. We think we have so much time, that there will always be another moment. But then the moment is gone and we realize we have not said all we wanted to say.”
“You understand better than I.” Blake sighed. “If only I had known you years ago.”
“But you have me now.”