Silk and Scandal
Page 5
But then, a kernel of anger bore through the pain. Why should it matter what he thought? If he were stupid enough to believe such of her, she would not allow him to make her feel…make her feel broken.
Cold, hard anger bloomed inside her. Carefully, methodically, she folded the chemise before her. “I do not wish to see him. Tell him I am indisposed.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, my lady.”
Nicola continued folding the chemise as the maid departed. What was he about? Why was he here now? Well, she didn’t care. She would pack, and then she would leave, and he would concern her no more.
The door to her bedchamber burst open, slamming against the chair placed too close to it with a discordant bang. Startled, she whipped around.
Thomas strode through and shut the door in the face of her protesting maid, locking it before turning to face her. She could only stare at him, at the disordered blond strands of his hair, the haphazard fit of his clothes. His gaze took in her own disheveled appearance, the spray of clothes about the room.
Returning to her, a scowl darkened his features. “What are you about, Nic?”
His voice freed her from her stasis. Deliberately, she looked down at the garment in her hand, the image of him in her door burning in her mind. “You shouldn’t be here, Thomas. A barrister and politician in a young lady’s bedchamber, one that he’s not wed or related to? Why, think of the scandal.”
He took no notice of her bitter words. “What are you doing?”
Lifting the chemise, she shook it slightly. “I should think it would be obvious.”
Exhaling forcefully, he ran his hand through his hair. “Fine. Why are you packing, Nic?”
“Why do you think?” Most precisely, she folded the chemise again. “I am leaving England.”
The blood drained from his face. She felt some measure of satisfaction at that.
“What?”
“It’s a most elegant solution, don’t you think?” Placing the chemise in the case before her, she smiled. It felt brittle. “Remove the source of scandal from your shores, and all shall forget.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You can’t leave.”
“Why can’t I?” Her cheeks hurt from holding her smile. “I have done what I always do. I have created scandal and disdain, and I have broken your life. Now, I am off to create scandal anew with nary a thought for you.”
Lines cut deep into his face, bracketing his mouth, scoring his brow. “Nic. I didn’t mean it.”
Hastily, she looked from him. He could see right through her, right to the pain she tried to hide. Damn him. Damn him for knowing her so well.
“Of course you didn’t.” Panic began again a frantic skitter. “But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Infamy and mayhem, wherever I go. How can that be of any use to a barrister, to a member of parliament?”
“Nic.” He strode forward, stopping only when she threw him a warning look. “Nic, I am sorry. I should never have said those things. I had this idea, this vision of my life. I was going to be a barrister and then a member of parliament. I’d be content because I’d made Lord Harry and Lady Millicent proud, did right by their memory. But this past week, I have never been more content. More happy. Hell, I’ve been downright ecstatic, and that’s because of you. You, with your laughter and your arguments and the way you look at me, as if I make you happy.” He took another step forward, and another, until he was close enough to touch. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t care if there was scandal in your past, or even if it’s in our future. I just want you.”
Jaw set, she stared at him. Well, wasn’t that just a pretty speech. “Bully for you.” She started to pack once more.
He captured her hands. “Nic, I won’t let you leave.”
“No!” Ripping her hands from his, she shoved him from her. Fury became a terrible roar inside her, one that blinded her to his shock. “You do not have a say in this. I have decided to leave, and I will do so. I will not have a man who calls me a scandal and accuses me of not c-caring and—and—”
As if a gate had opened, the emotion of years crashed over her. Every time someone had whispered about her, every time she’d endured the furtive glances and the barely concealed disdain. Her father turning from her, ignoring the tales spoken of his daughter. Thomas, writing to her no more. It all screamed inside her, demanding to be let free. She didn’t want to let it out, tried to contain it, but she couldn’t…. She couldn’t.
A great wave racked her, broke her to nothing as pain and anger and sorrow and fear exploded. Alone, she was all alone in the world, and none would ever look past her bravado and her facade to see she was so alone….
Arms encircled her, pulled her into a solid chest that spoke lies of comfort and protection. She fought. Of course she did. She knew his comfort was false, that in the end she would have to stand on her own and face the scrupulously polite crowd, as she always did. No one rescued her. Ever.
But the arms would not let her go, and the comfort did not waver.
Eventually, she felt a hand soothing her hair. “Nic. My beloved Nic. What has been done to you?” The shoulder against her cheek shuddered. “What have I done to you?”
Slowly, the storm quieted, and once it had, she spoke her greatest fear. “Don’t hate me, Thomas. Please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it.”
“Nic, no.” Horror, dismay, filled his voice. “Oh God, never. Do you hear me, Nic? I could never hate you.”
“But…. The scandal….”
“There will be no scandal. None. Lord Draper reprimanded me, but that was all. Do you hear me? There will be no scandal.”
Confused, she looked up. Deep lines scored his face, and his eyes were filled with such sorrow, such concern.
Hesitantly, she raised her hand. His whole face softened, and he turned to kiss her palm. Gently, she smoothed his features as tears dried on her skin, as he turned into her touch.
He meant it. He meant all of it.
She felt different. She felt…free.
After a time, she said, “How will there be no scandal?”
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Because I told Lord Draper the Earl of Kerr would not look favorably upon the spread of vicious rumors about his granddaughter and her fiancé. I said I was willing to accept any punishment he saw fit, but he was not to speak a word about what he saw in my chamber.” He grimaced. “I’ve never invoked your grandfather’s name before. It’s quite powerful, isn’t it?”
She took a breath, though it was still somewhat of a shudder. “So you are still employed?”
“Yes.” He exhaled. “I overreacted this afternoon, Nic. I shall never say such things to you again. Ever.”
A small happiness bloomed inside her. “Ever?”
He nodded solemnly. “Never ever.”
Small became great. How was it she could go from despair to its opposite in such a small amount—“Fiancé?”
A dullish sort of red flushed his skin. “Er, yes.”
“That is what you told Lord Draper? That we were affianced?”
“Yes.” His arms tightened. “We would be good together, Nic. We’ve known each other so long, and I know most of that has been apart, but you must admit during this last week we…. Well, I have never been happier. If you wanted, you could clerk for me. I could have briefs couriered to you at home, and I know you would form marvelous opinions on any political work I might have. I think it would work out quite well. You won’t be bored. Not with the law to occupy you.”
“And you.”
A light seemed to start within him. “Me?”
She nodded. “You are quite the incentive.”
The light became bright, almost blinding. “As you are. For me. I think you’re—Well, you’re just—” Somewhat clumsily, he shoved a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell, I’m buggering this up, aren’t I?”
Happiness bubbled through her. “Not yet. But maybe it is you should ask me something?”
“Right.
Yes. Of course.” Taking her hand, he dropped before her.
Joy too big to contain filling her, she gazed down upon him. She had never thought she would see this. Thomas Cartwright, her dearest and best of friends, kneeling before her.
He took breath. “Lady Nicola Fitzgibbons. Nic. I love you with all that is inside me. I want, more than anything in this world or the next, to spend my life with you. Would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
Emotion choked her, so as she couldn’t speak, so that he began to look worried. Frantically, she tugged him up, nodding and nodding as she placed her lips upon his. Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.
Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers.
Finally, finally, she could speak. “I love you, Thomas.”
Eyes still closed, he smiled. And she, unable to resist, destroyed the shape of it with her kiss.
Epilogue
Vienna, Austria, 5 September 1846
Nic,
Are you certain your father is in Austria? I’m having the devil’s own time finding him.
Thomas
***
London, England, 1 November 1846
Dearest Thomas,
Last I heard, he was in Vienna. I still don’t know why you’ve insisted on traveling all the way to Austria simply to ask him for permission to marry me. We could have had the deed completed before he returned, all with a minimum of fuss. Come home. I refuse to spend Christmas without you.
Love,
Nic
PS Please note the proper way to address a letter to your fiancée.
***
Vienna, Austria, 15 November 1846
Dear Nic,
There is no way your father is here. He’s definitely moved on. Bugger it. I’m coming home. I’ll see you soon, probably before this letter reaches you.
I miss you.
Love,
Thomas
PS I can take a hint, especially one that’s more like a demand.
***
Lincoln’s Inn, London, 6 June 1847
Dear Nic, light of my life, love of my heart,
This session will definitely run late. I apologize profusely, but I will miss your ladies’ dinner party. I am all that is devastation.
I shall be in my chambers after the session finishes. I still need to run over the McLaren brief.
Wish your friends well from me.
Love always,
Thomas.
Your husband.
Who loves you.
And is not avoiding your party at all.
***
St. Georges Square, London, 6 June 1847
Dearest Thomas,
You are fooling no one.
Love,
Nic
PS There will be repercussions, I hope you realize.
PPS You’d better be at the political party I organized for you. I won’t host another in your absence, you know.
***
Lincoln’s Inn, London, 12 October 1847
Nic,
Did you get the brief? I need your remarks before three of the clock.
Love,
Thomas
***
St. Georges Square, London, 12 October 1847
Dearest Thomas,
I’m almost done. You’ll have it before three.
Love,
Nic
***
St. Georges Square, London, 21 March 1848
Thomas,
Perhaps you should come home. I think I may be in labor.
***
Lincoln’s Inn, London, 21 March 1848
I’m on my way. Don’t worry, all will be well. I’ll call—
Christ.
I’ll be home soon, Nic. I love you.
~About the Author ~
Cassandra grew up daydreaming, inventing fantastical worlds and marvelous adventures. Once she learned to read (First phrase – To the Beach. True story), she was never without a book, reading of other people’s fantastical worlds and marvelous adventures.
Fairy tales, Famous Fives, fantasies and fancies; horror stories, gumshoe detectives, science fiction; Cassandra read it all. Then she discovered Romance and a true passion was born.
So, once upon a time, after making a slight detour into the world of finance, Cassandra tried her hand at writing. After a brief foray into horror, she couldn’t discount her true passion. She started to write Romance and fell deep.
The love affair exists to this very day.
Cassandra lives in Adelaide, South Australia.
You can visit Cassandra at:
http://www.cassandradean.com
Enslaved
I was to teach a slave.
Marcus, a gladiator in my father’s ludus, was compelled to my presence to learn of Rome’s gods, her legends. When first he came, fear consumed me - fear of this silent, resentful slave who burned with his anger.
Time, though, changes much. Marcus softened and I grew unafraid. As we became closer, I grew more than merely unafraid – I grew to love him. Never did I think we would be separated.
I was wrong.
Rough Diamond
The Diamond Series - Book 1
Owner of the Diamond Saloon and Theater, Alice Reynolds is astounded when a fancy Englishman offers to buy her saloon. She won’t be selling the Diamond to anyone, let alone a man with a pretty, empty-headed grin…but then, she reckons that grin just might be a lie, and a man of intelligence and cunning resides beneath.
Rupert Llewellyn has another purpose for offering to buy the pretty widow’s saloon. However, he never banked on her knowing eyes making him weak at the knees, or how his deception would burn upon his soul.
Each determined to outwit the other, they tantalize and tease until passion explodes. But can their desire bridge the lies told and trust broken?