Twenty minutes later, he sat immersed in a tub of hot, steamy water as his thoughts continued to spin in a tangled whirl. He had mentioned an annulment last night, but now that he had time to reflect, he decided that marriage to Ashleigh might have certain benefits after all. Now that he understood her true nature, he was no longer susceptible to her clever manipulations. He could banish her to one of his other, lesser estates, far away from London and Sethe Manor and never have to see her deceitful face or hear her lying, traitorous voice again. In addition, a wife stashed conveniently in the country and the title of Duchess of Sethe no longer up for grabs, would also serve to keep the other money-hungry, title-chasing vipers at bay.
Yes, he decided, he would stay married, but the child she carried would never inherit the Sethe title and all that came with it, he thought with bitter fury. It made him furious to think that he had begun to care for the child growing in Ashleigh's womb, to envision its future with a father's hopes and dreams. He snorted in disgust. He would leave everything to Brendon. He knew that his younger brother had little interest in the title, but he would rot in hell before he let some other man's bastard benefit from the wealth and power that had been a part of the Sethe family for generations.
When Nicholas eventually rose from the cooling bathwater, his mind was clear. Summoning his valet, he prepared himself for an evening out. He intended to stop by Alex's residence and see if his friend had any plans for the evening. If he were free, perhaps he could convince him to spend part of the evening at one of the exclusive London brothels that catered solely to gentlemen of their class. He’d been celibate for far too long. He needed a woman, a woman who made no false pretenses about who, or what, she was.
Attired in his customary black evening attire, Nicholas descended the stairs a short time later, nodded in passing to Thomas, and then entered the awaiting coach.
When he arrived at the Warrene residence, he was pleased to learn that Alex was at home. While a footman was sent to inform the earl of his presence, Nicholas waited patiently in Alex's study. He poured himself a glass of brandy, but after one sip he set the glass aside, the unpleasant effects of his recent hangover still fresh in his mind. He sat down moodily in one of the large wingback chairs before the fireplace and stared at the glowing embers.
“Nick, what are you doing here?” Alex asked, as he strolled casually into the room a few minutes later. “I thought you had just returned to Sethe.”
“I did, and now I am back.” His tone was flat.
“Is everything alright?”
Nicholas was in no mood to discuss the events leading up to his impromptu return to London, so he deliberately steered the conversation in another direction. “I thought you might like to accompany me to Madame Renee's this evening, unless of course you have other plans.”
Alex was clearly surprised by the suggestion and regarded him with curious eyes.
“Is something…”
“Do you want to join me or not,” Nicholas asked abruptly as he rose from the chair, cutting off Alex’s question.
Alex hesitated, studying him for a moment before he spoke. “Sorry Nick, but I was thinking of trying my luck at White's tonight. Why don't you join me? I know several gentlemen who would be more than willing to attempt to lighten our pockets,” he suggested, his tone persuasive.
Nicholas considered the alternate suggestion, not unaware that Alex was intentionally attempting to divert him from his purpose, most likely due to his affection for Ashleigh. He doubted Alex would be so considerate of his wife’s feelings if he had the slightest notion of her true nature, however. He could enlighten him of course, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss Ashleigh’s betrayal, not yet anyhow. “Why not,” he said, rising from his seat before the fire. He could stop by Madame Renee’s later, with or without Alex. “Let’s go.”
When they entered the lobby of White's, some twenty minutes later, they were greeted warmly by several friends and acquaintances. It was still early, but the place was already crowded. After procuring drinks from a passing attendant, Nick and Alex gradually made their way over to the gaming area, spotting two empty seats at one of the card tables.
Sitting down, Nicholas realized that he was seated directly across from Albert Denniegh, heir to the Marquis of Penworthe and groaned internally. Albert was well known for his addiction to strong spirits and Nicholas grimaced when he observed that the irritating young fop was already well into his cups.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” he greeted loudly, his words slurring together slightly. “Haven’t yet had the opportunity to offer my congratulations on your recent nuptials.”
“And now you have,” Nicholas responded coolly. The news of his sudden and unexpected wedding to the Earl of Dexter’s granddaughter had apparently been the talk of the ton since word of the shocking event had reached London, but this was the first time he’d ventured out in public since the ceremony. Those who knew him well would know immediately by his tone that he had no desire to discuss it. Unfortunately, Albert, slack jawed from the exorbitant amount of alcohol he’d already consumed, was clearly too far gone to notice.
“I expect congratulations of a different sort are in order as well, considering the haste of your wedding,” Albert drawled jeeringly. His glassy-eyed gaze didn't take in the sudden tightening of Nicolas’ features or the chilling look that entered his frigid blue eyes, and he plunged on recklessly and without thought. “Knowing your reputation with the ladies, I’d wager the newest member of the Sethe family will be making his or her arrival well-before the nine-month mark,” he said, lifting his glass in a mock salute.
The other men at the table sat in horrified silence, obviously expecting Nicholas to put an immediate end to Denniegh's pathetic existence.
Alex laid a restraining hand upon his arm as he started to rise from his seat, clearly thinking to keep him from pounding Denniegh into a bloody pulp, but he needn’t have bothered, for he suddenly dropped back into his chair in stunned surprise, his attention diverted by what, or who rather, he had just seen over Denniegh's left shoulder.
Alex watched in fascinated bewilderment, as did the other four men at the table, as his expression turned murderous, though it was no longer directed at Albert. Instantly the other men at the table, including the slightly sobered Denniegh, shoved back their chairs and rose from the table with various muttered excuses, seeking to distance themselves from his obvious fury.
Nicholas was barely aware of the swift departure of his tablemates. His attention was completely riveted upon a dark-haired man standing across the room, the same man whom he had seen embracing his wife in the garden the evening before. He was almost sure of it.
Alex followed the line of Nick's gaze across the room and then turned back to him curiously. “Having trouble with the new in-laws already Nick?”
“What?” Nicholas asked sharply, momentarily distracted by Alex's bizarre question.
“What gives old man? I can understand why you would want to end Denniegh’s miserable life, but why the hell are you looking at Ashleigh's uncle as if you’d like to kill him too?” Alex asked, his expression bewildered.
“What the devil are you talking about?” Nicholas demanded, baffled by Alex's question.
“Ashford,” Alex said, wrinkling his brow as he gazed at Nicholas in confusion. “You were just looking at Ashleigh’s uncle like you wanted to murder him.”
“Uncle?”
“For God's sake Nick,” Alex muttered, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Yes, Ashleigh's uncle. James Thornton, the Earl of Ashford, the man you were just staring daggers at.”
James. “Ashleigh's uncle, are you sure?” He was familiar with the Ashford name, though he’d never met the man in person.
“Of course I'm sure. He was a friend of my father’s.” If possible, Alex’s expression grew even more perplexed. “If you didn't know who he was, why the blazes were you looking at him like that?” he demanded.
Nicholas felt as if the breath h
ad been knocked from his body. His mind was suddenly spinning out of control, the silent roaring in his ears nearly deafening. Ashleigh's pleas reverberated throughout his head, over and over again. Please, what have I done? I don't understand. You're frightening me. I love you. He remembered every brutal, heartless word he had said to her. He remembered the tears as they’d slid in silent glistening rivulets down her pale cheeks. He had wrongly and unjustly accused her in his mind and then very nearly violated the delightful, vivacious creature who carried his child in the cruelest way possible. His child! He knew she would never forgive him; dear lord, he would never forgive himself.
Rising to his feet, Nicholas swayed drunkenly for a moment, before turning to Alex. “I have to go,” he uttered hoarsely.
Nicholas sat in silent agony throughout the seemingly endless ride back to his townhouse, consumed with loathing and self-hatred. How could he have been so blind, so stupid? Ashleigh wasn't like the other women he’d known, she never had been and she never would be, he knew that now and perhaps he always had, despite his constant efforts to deny it. He recalled the night he’d taken her virginity in the library. It had been a profound experience. She had given him her innocence without hesitation or restraint. She had given everything, held nothing back and demanded nothing in return, yet he had heartlessly cast her aside. Dear God, how many times had he hurt her? Too many to count, he realized with sickening clarity.
When his carriage finally rolled to a stop before his elegant brick home, Nicholas stepped down and made his way up the sweeping stone steps. As soon as he entered the front hall, he knew something was wrong. The house was deathly quiet and one of the footmen from Sethe Manor was standing in the large foyer. A sense of impending doom hovered in the air and Nicholas felt his chest constrict in fear.
“Chester has brought a message from your grandmother, Your Grace,” Thomas informed him needlessly, holding out a creamy white envelope.
Nicholas reached out and took the envelope from his outstretched hand, and then turned and walked swiftly into his study, closing the door behind him. He stood for several long moments, staring down at the pristine white envelope that bore his grandmother's refined penmanship. Taking a deep breath, he broke open the wax seal and unfolded the single sheet of thin white parchment that rested within. Anxiously he scanned his grandmother's words, reading the note twice before the bleached paper slipped from his fingers and fluttered to the carpet.
“Have my horse saddled at once,” Nicholas shouted as he exited his study and ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time in his haste to reach his bedchamber. He took just enough time to change into his riding clothes before he was rushing back down the stairs and out the front door. His horse had just been brought around and Nicholas wasted no time leaping into the saddle. Within seconds he was away.
At first she wasn’t sure what woke her. It wasn’t morning, for her bedchamber was still shrouded in darkness, lit only by the moon’s faint glow and the dim firelight from the hearth. Then she heard it, the sound that must have roused her from her sleep. It was low, steady breathing, almost but not quite a snore, coming from the side of the bed. The maid who’d come to sit with her must have fallen asleep she realized. Turning her head, Ashleigh looked to the chair that had been pulled close to her bedside and froze. Nicholas, looking rumpled and disheveled, sat within the depths of the high-backed armchair, his head resting against the shallow corner as he slumbered.
How long had he been there? And why had he returned? Had he somehow discovered the truth about the note and her uncle, or had he come only because of Madeline’s summons? Question after question flitted through her mind. She stared at his face, so tranquil in slumber, so different from the last time she’d seen it. She watched him for a long time as he slept, pondering her future, their future. When he opened his eyes, would they be filled with remorse, or would they still reflect only bitterness and contempt? Either way, it hardly mattered. If he did not yet know the truth, he would learn it soon enough, but even so, she knew that it would not change anything, for she didn’t need his contrition, she needed his love.
With her emotions in turmoil, she continued to watch him for several more minutes. Even tousled and unkempt, he was glorious to behold. She didn’t hate him for what he’d done. She didn’t think that she could ever hate him. And of course, she could forgive him, in fact, she already had. But she understood now, finally, that a future with Nicholas could never be. He had been hurt too deeply. He would never allow himself to love her, she could see that now. As much as it saddened her, she knew that it was time to let go of her dreams, for honestly, how many more fractures could her heart withstand before it shattered completely?
Finally, turning her head, she closed her eyes and sought to come to terms with the crushing weight of her grief. Not long after, Nicholas stirred, but Ashleigh deliberately kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady and even. She wasn’t ready to face him. Her emotions were still too raw.
Sitting up, Nicholas immediately glanced toward the bed and saw that Ashleigh still slept. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but apparently he had been unable to fight the heavy pull of his lids in the dark, quiet room. Now, looking at Ashleigh, knowing his child still had a tenacious hold on life, he should have felt relieved, and he did, but what he felt more than anything was the excruciating anguish of just how much he had lost. By his own hand, he had cost himself the most precious gift he had ever been given. Ashleigh with her kindness, her recklessness, her beauty and intelligence, and her pure forgiving heart, was the most incredible woman he had ever known, but he had allowed his past to blind him to the truth. He’d hurt her so many times, and yet time and again she had absolved him of his sins. And why? Because she loved him. She had always loved him. He knew that now, now that it was too late, now that he’d lost her forever because of his own idiocy. He didn’t deserve her, he never had and he never would. And now he had to live with that realization for the rest of his miserable life. That was what he deserved.
Pushing himself forward to the edge of the chair, he looked down upon the only woman he had ever loved, for he recognized now that his feelings for Melissa had been nothing at all compared to what he felt for Ashleigh. He hadn’t even known what love was until Ashleigh had entered his life. “I’m so sorry,” he began, knowing she didn’t hear him, but needing to say the words, “for everything that I have ever done to hurt you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, but I was too blinded by my own stubbornness and stupidity to recognize it.” Slowly he shook his head from side to side. “You deserved so much better, and for that, I will never forgive myself.” Rising from the chair, he stood looking down upon her for several seconds, his pain nearly unbearable. Dragging in a ragged breath, he reached out to touch her hair, but then pulled his hand away, afraid that he would wake her. “I love you Ashleigh, more than you will ever know,” he said quietly. Then he turned to walk away.
His voice was whisper soft, but Ashleigh heard every word. No, please don’t do this to me; don’t give me hope, she thought as fear washed over her in a powerful wave. She felt as if an enormous weight was pressing upon her chest as she heard him turn to leave, and she struggled to draw air into her lungs. Let him go, the rational part of her cried, it’s too late, but her traitorous heart refused to listen. Opening her eyes, she turned toward him. His back was to her as he moved toward the door.
“Nicholas, don’t go.”
Nicholas froze, his hand outstretched toward the brass doorknob. For a moment he didn’t move, but then slowly he turned back toward the bed.
As he turned, Ashleigh was stunned to see the track of a lone tear upon his face, a single glistening path that ran the length of his left cheek.
Their eyes met, and for a moment Nicholas could hardly breathe. “Ashleigh…I…”
“I love you too,” she said simply, though her eyes spoke volumes.
Dazed, Nicholas could only stare into her beautiful green eyes in disbelief. Walking s
lowly to the side of the bed, he dropped to his knees before her.
Lifting her hand, Ashleigh placed it lightly against his cheek, her eyes never leaving his. As she watched in wonder, another tear slipped from the corner of his eye. With the pad of her thumb, she softly brushed it away.
Chapter 24
Despite her confinement, and the vile-tasting medicine she choked down six times a day, the days following Nicholas’ return were by far the happiest days of Ashleigh’s life. Nicholas spent as much time with her as he could, and with her newly devoted husband at her side, her mandatory bed rest was actually far from torturous. Though she still had the occasional moment when she wondered if she was dreaming, Nicholas was always quick to assure her that she wasn’t, and to tell her how much he loved her. It was as close to heaven as she had ever been.
Having just bathed, Ashleigh slipped a clean nightdress over her head and then made her way back to bed. She glanced at the bottle on her nightstand, grimacing slightly as she slid under the covers, for it was almost time to take another dose of the foul concoction. She would gladly do it however, for she hadn’t had any more of the frightening contractions since Dr. Ainsley’s first visit. He’d been back to check on her twice since then, and seemed relatively confident that her pregnancy was no longer in immediate jeopardy.
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