A Visit From Sir Nicholas (Effington Family Book 9)

by Victoria Alexander

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  Chapter 15

  “In truth, I am torn.” Elizabeth sipped her tea, her manner as casual as her tone. As if she were discussing nothing of any significance whatsoever.

  “I’d be rather surprised if you weren’t,” Jules murmured.

  The sisters stood side by side, surveying the ladies gathered in Elizabeth’s parlor, all at the moment seated clustered in chairs or standing together in groups of threes or fours or more. All engaged in the sort of animated conversation, punctuated liberally with delighted laughter and the occasional gasp of disbelief or surprise, that occurs when women who truly like one another are kept apart too long. Sharing the latest news and, more importantly, hearing the latest gossip, both within the family and without, was an opportunity not to be missed. Everyone was here, of course: her mother and her mother’s sisters, Aunts Emma, Jocelyn, and Rebecca. Her father’s sister, Aunt Gillian, a great-aunt or two, and any number of cousins and second cousins. Between the aunts and the various and assorted other relations, it was an impressive showing of Effington females.

  And while not a single lady present had failed to quirk a brow at the simple plates of fruited cakes and sugared biscuits Cook had frantically prepared since Elizabeth had discovered the state of her accounts yesterday afternoon, no one had actually commented aloud on the meager offering either, although she was fairly certain there were more than a few quiet observations and possibly some concern expressed as to her abilities as a hostess as well. The Effington ladies’ Christmas tea was traditionally a lavish affair with a friendly rivalry between relations as to who could produce the most delightful — and impressive — afternoon.

  This year’s tea was decidedly understated. At least, thus far.

  “Do you really think he will come to your aid? Rescue you from social disaster?” Jules studied her sister. “After all, it is already past five.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said without hesitation and noted with a small measure of surprise she truly meant her words. “I presented it as something of a test. A challenge of sorts. Nicholas is a man who can never turn away from a challenge.” And he claims to love me. To have loved me always.

  “Still, he is merely a man. He might well think something like a ladies’ tea,” Jules nodded at the assembly, “to be relatively insignificant and not worth his effort.”

  “Regardless, he wants the family to like him. Half of the family, indeed some might argue the half most difficult to please, is in this very room.”

  “As far as I can recall, the family has liked him since he first came to live with Lord Thornecroft. Most of us anyway, and I have certainly changed my opinion.”

  “Do lower your voice, Jules. I’d prefer not to have the details of my life as the primary topic of discussion among every female in the family.”

  “You may well be too late.” Jules scoffed but lowered her voice nonetheless. “Every woman here is wondering why you have seen fit to offer nothing for tea but biscuits and cakes, and most are speculating on the reasons behind it. Some are certainly questioning the state of your finances, but Mother and her sisters suspect there is something far more interesting than mere money involved.”

  “They would, wouldn’t they?” Elizabeth glanced at her mother. The duchess caught her gaze and smiled pleasantly, but there was an assessing look in her eye. As if she was trying to piece together an intriguing puzzle. Her mother always had liked puzzles.

  Jules’s gaze followed her sister’s. “I daresay she wouldn’t be overly pleased to know you have shared Collingsworth’s bed, although, given Mother’s unusual way of looking at the world and her penchant for romantic tales, I rather suspect she would not be terribly condemning.”

  “I should prefer not to find out, thank you.”

  “Still, Mother’s curiosity, even her opinion, pales in comparison to the question of what you will do about Sir Nicholas. You cannot play this game with him forever.” Jules paused thoughtfully. “Can you?”

  “Of course not. Nor do I wish to.” Precisely what she did wish had been on Elizabeth’s mind constantly since yesterday’s encounter with Nicholas.

  His declaration of love, of course, was paramount in her thoughts. She wasn’t entirely sure if it changed everything or nothing at all. Either way, it produced the most delightful feeling of something rather like joy within her. But it was his observation about her attitude toward Charles and himself that nagged at her.

  Why was it that she had forgiven Charles his infidelity after a scant three years when she still harbored a fair amount of anger with Nicholas for merely discarding her a decade ago? To Nicholas she’d dismissed it as insignificant, but the truth of his words had struck her deeply. After all, it was not as if he had made any promises to her. Not as if they had been betrothed.

  In point of fact, aside from a few kisses and any number of candid conversations, their relationship could well have been called nothing more than friendship. The anger and the resentment she’d harbored against him all these years was not at all proportional to his crime. Indeed, as sins went in this world, Charles’s had been much more heinous. Yet, in the years since the discovery of his mistress and his death she had not only forgiven him but perhaps even understood his indiscretion. She had come to believe, rightly or wrongly, that her husband might well have found something with this unknown woman that he had not found with her. And she’d cared for him too much, possibly, she now thought, in the manner of a dearest friend more than a lover, to even now begrudge him that.

  Yet, while she had worked diligently for a decade to put all thought of Nicholas out of her mind, she had never really succeeded or forgiven him.

  Perhaps it was time to face the reasons why.

  “If you ask me, not that you have but you should,” a firm note sounded in Jules’s voice, “I think you would be the worst kind of fool if you do not snatch him up right now and drag him to the altar.”

  “I don’t wish to marry,” Elizabeth said without thinking.

  “Marriage is beside the point. Do you still want him?”

  Elizabeth sipped her tea. “I believe I’ve already made myself clear on that subject.”

  “For the rest of your days?”

  Did she? Could she consider the rest of her life without him? And hadn’t she already spent far too long without him? She heaved a resigned sigh. “Yes.”

  Jules cast her a smug smile. “In this day and age that is referred to as marriage.”

  “Still and all —”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “With my finances, even with my children, but” — Elizabeth drew a deep breath and met her sister’s gaze directly — “he broke my heart, Jules.”

  “I know.” Jules shrugged. “I’ve known since the very first time we spoke of him.”

  “You could have mentioned it to me,” Elizabeth said wryly.

  “You have denied it far too long. You would not have believed me. So.” Jules paused to sip her tea, her tone deceptively casual. “Do you love him now?”

  “The question isn’t if I love him but when I loved him.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Did I truly love him ten years ago? And if I did, when did I stop? Or did I ever stop? Did I marry Charles all the while loving Nicholas? Do you know what that says about me and my entire life?”

  “Nothing of significance as far as I can see.” Jules stared at her sister. “You might well have married one man when your heart truly belonged to another, yet did Charles ever suspect?”

  “Most certainly not.” Indignation rang in Elizabeth’s voice. “I did not suspect.”

  “Did you do all in your power to be a good wife?”

  “Absolutely. I was an excellent wife.”

  “To my mind, you were a far better wife than Charles was a husband. Lizzie.” Jules leaned closer to her sister. “You would be well advised to put the past firmly in the past. And the best way to do that,” she grinned, “is to snatch Nicholas up right now and drag him to the a
ltar.”

  Elizabeth stared at her sister for a moment, then laughed. “That might well be the perfect solution.”

  “The perfect solution to what?” Mother’s voice sounded beside them.

  Elizabeth braced herself. She and Jules had been too engrossed in their own conversation to note their mother’s approach.

  “Nothing really, Mother,” Jules said smoothly. “It’s just that Lizzie had far more extensive refreshments planned, but for some reason they have not yet arrived from Fortnum and Mason.”

  “Yes, that’s it.” Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Really? They are usually so efficient.” Mother’s voice was thoughtful. “However, that does explain the intense nature of your discussion.”

  “I thought it would,” Jules murmured.

  “We were just saying how I should send someone to inquire at once,” Elizabeth said brightly.

  “Excellent idea, my dear daughters.” Mother smiled pleasantly. “Although I suspect Fortnum and Mason might not deliver any order if an account has been closed.”

  “Oh look, Aunt Jocelyn is waving to me. It’s been forever since we’ve chatted. I really should speak with her.” Jules started toward her aunt.

  Elizabeth grabbed her arm and yanked her sister back to her side, then raised her chin and met the Duchess of Roxborough’s gaze. “Whatever do you mean, Mother?”

  Mother raised a brow.

  Elizabeth blew a resigned breath. “How did you know?”

  “Your brother let something slip to your father, who then insisted on the full story, and he, of course, told me.”

  Elizabeth traded glances with her sister. “What exactly did Jonathon say?”

  “He told us of the clause in Charles’s will giving control of your finances to Sir Nicholas. I must say I am quite disappointed in your late husband.” The duchess shook her head. “Ridiculous to think you could not manage your own affairs.”

  “Thank you, Mother.” Elizabeth should have known this would be her mother’s reaction. Still, it was lovely to hear.

  “I wish you had seen fit to confide in me about all this.”

  “Quite honestly, it was rather humiliating. I preferred to keep it to myself.” Beyond that, Elizabeth wasn’t entirely certain the confession of the revelation of Charles’s last wishes wouldn’t have led to any number of other confessions about her involvement with Nicholas. Confessions that she would prefer not to make to her mother. “Did Jonathon say anything else?”

  “Only that you and Sir Nicholas have been at odds over the management of your funds since his return to England, culminating in irresponsible spending on your part and the closing of your accounts on his.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Is there more?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Nothing of any significance.”

  “He wants to marry her,” Jules said with a grin.

  “Between you and Jonathon it’s a wonder I have any privacy at all,” Elizabeth muttered.

  “Does he? How wonderful.” A delighted smile spread across her mother’s face. “I have always liked Nicholas Collingsworth, you know. Certainly he was overly serious as a youth, rather too intense, I always thought. Now, however, I find him most delightful.”

  Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “I don’t know that I want to marry again.”

  “She takes after her mother,” Aunt Rebecca said in a low voice that nonetheless carried across the room.

  Elizabeth’s gaze slid past the duchess, and she groaned to herself. She’d been so intent on the conversation with her mother that she had failed to notice the silence that had fallen in the parlor. And failed to notice as well that the attention of each and every lady present was on her.

  Her mother’s brows drew together. “I can well see why you might feel that way, dearest. I know I myself was reluctant to wed. I had plans for grand adventures. Indeed, I led your father on a merry chase.” She smiled at the memory. “It was great fun as I recall.” Her expression sobered, and she took her daughter’s hands. “Dearest, you must go on with your life. Charles is gone, and you cannot mourn him forever.”

  Jules scoffed. “She’s not mourning Charles, Mother. She simply doesn’t want to give up the independence his death has afforded her.”

  “That’s certainly understandable,” Aunt Gillian murmured.

  “Not at all, it’s utter nonsense,” Aunt Jocelyn said firmly. “Sir Nicholas has an impressive fortune, will inherit a fine title, and is exceptionally easy to look at, as well. She should marry him at once.”

  “Even so, independence is extraordinarily difficult to come by,” a cousin said from the far side of the room.

  Another relation scoffed. “She would be a fool to let him escape.”

  “Marriage is the preferred state for any female,” someone else added.

  At once the room exploded into animated debate over the relative pros and cons of Elizabeth wedding Sir Nicholas. Not an aunt or cousin failed to have a definite opinion, and not one hesitated to express it. Indeed, the volume of voices in the room rose to an impressive level.

  Jules grinned at her sister.

  “I don’t find this the least bit amusing,” Elizabeth said grimly. “Each and every female here is convinced she knows best how to run my life. Can’t you stop them, Mother?”

  “Not yet, darling, everyone is having such a lovely time of it.” Mother chuckled and scanned the gathering. “Not a single woman here does not believe that she, and she alone, knows what the right course of action is. And there is nothing women, particularly Effington women, like better than expressing their opinions. Why I daresay you have provided them with the best possible Christmas tea. Nothing is as entertaining as deciding what someone else should do with her life.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, I suppose, but —”

  “And I suspect the entertainment has only just begun.” Mother nudged her and nodded toward the door.

  Nicholas stood framed in the doorway studying the ladies with a definite expression of amusement. His gaze caught hers, and his grin widened.

  “I love you now and I loved you then and I am fairly certain I never stopped loving you.”

  Her heart caught, and for the first time, she didn’t ignore the feelings his presence aroused in her.

  Mother leaned toward her, her voice low and for Elizabeth’s ears alone. “Marriage is not always a grand adventure, my darling.” Her mother’s gaze searched hers, as if somehow she knew that Elizabeth’s marriage to Charles had not been as perfect as it had appeared. “But with a man you love, it can be the greatest adventure of all. And well worth any compromise.” She turned her attention back to the door and raised her voice. “Sir Nicholas, how delightful to see you again.”

  Nicholas strode toward them. The room quieted at once, all eyes on the tall, handsome knight crossing the floor toward her. Elizabeth could certainly see why so many of her relations thought she’d be a fool to allow him to get away.

  “Your Grace.” Nicholas took her mother’s hand and raised it to her lips. “You are looking as lovely as ever.”

  “Very good, Sir Nicholas. You and my son have a great deal in common. I suspect the two of you practiced your charming manners together in your youth,” Mother said wryly.

  Nicholas laughed. “Only to make you proud of us, Your Grace.”

  “I am proud, Nicholas.” Mother’s gaze met his. “Of both of you.”

  “That means a great deal to me, ma’am,” Nicholas said softly.

  They smiled at one another for a long moment, as if exchanging secrets Elizabeth wasn’t privy to; or perhaps reaching an accord.

  Her mother raised a brow. “I suspect this is not merely a social visit?”

  “Not entirely.” Nicholas cast Elizabeth a quick, if decidedly smug, smile. Oddly, it didn’t bother her at all. “I must, however, apologize for my tardiness. It was unavoidable.” He turned toward the door and nodded. At once, a parade of waiters entered the parlor, each bearing a tray of
Fortnum and Mason’s best.

  “Oh my,” the duchess murmured.

  “Well done, Sir Nicholas,” Jules said with a grin. “Well done indeed.”

  There were delicate slices of duck encased in pastry, lobster salad, morsels of partridge and truffles in aspic. Trays were piled high with dainty cakes and fanciful biscuits and decadent chocolates. And if that wasn’t enough, there was Bavarian cream and tarts and terribly expensive out-of-season berries.

  “I heard of Lady Langley’s,” he cleared his throat, “dilemma and thought the least I could do was provide whatever assistance I could.”

  Elizabeth quirked a brow. “It was indeed the very least, given that you —”

  “I think it’s delightful and most thoughtful.” Mother beamed at Nicholas, who had the good grace not to look too pleased with himself. “And impressive as well. I would have wagered a great deal that a gentleman would not have had the vaguest idea what to provide for a gathering of ladies.”

  “I cannot take full credit for that, I had excellent assistance as well as unlimited funds. Both of which can accomplish a remarkable amount in a relatively short period of time.” His voice was as polished as his manner. “I would hate for your Christmas tea to be a disappointment.”

  Jules choked back a laugh.

  Her mother cast her a quelling glance, then smiled at Nicholas. “And it is most appreciated.” She nodded at her younger daughter. “I suspect you and I should sample some of what Sir Nicholas has provided before it has all been devoured.” The duchess cast her gaze over the room and sighed. “They are a ravenous group, especially at Christmastime. Indulgence is in the air and we, and admittedly I include myself in that number, are most susceptible to it. After Twelfth Night we shall all have to cinch our corsets a bit tighter. Still,” she grinned in a wicked manner, “excess at this festive time of year is well worth the price.”

  Nicholas chuckled but wisely held his tongue.

  The duchess nodded, and she and Jules moved to join the others.

  Nicholas stepped to Elizabeth’s side and surveyed his handiwork. “Well? Did I pass your test?”