"And find herself confined to her room or worse."
"Surely not."
Elizabeth glided down the stairs. Nicola sighed and wished she was that graceful. She followed her sister into the music room. Elizabeth curtsied. "Good morning."
Tristan placed several sheets of music on the pianoforte. "Morning. Found these pieces. They will do for our lessons. First some country dances and then a cotillion and you will be ready for the ball."
Michael rose from his chair. He bowed to Tristan. "My lady, I believe this dance is mine."
"Let me consult my card." Tristan pitched his voice high. "La my lord, you have the right of matters."
Elizabeth giggled. Her hands hit the keys causing a discordant sound. Nicola and Margaret laughed.
Niall clapped his hands. "Young ladies, attend your lessons."
Elizabeth began to play. Nicola watched Tristan and Michael move through the steps of the dance. Niall offered her his hand. "Now we will try."
Her knowledge of yoga had accustomed her to learning patterned movements and she found following the steps to be less difficult than she had feared. When the first dance ended, Michael strode to the piano. "Miss Elizabeth, join Tristan. By your age, young ladies of the ton are well schooled in social manners."
"Denmere should be here," Tristan said. "He is by far the lightest of the Deacons on his feet."
"Deacons?" Nicola asked.
Niall laughed. "A name given to the four of us."
Margaret bounced to her feet. "We heard about the pigs. What else did you do?"
Michael laughed. "Some things not fit for a lady's ears."
"Put pepper in the Latin Master's snuff," Tristan said.
"Turned green smoking behind the stables," Niall said.
"Sometimes I wish I had been born a boy," Margaret said. "Girls are not allowed to have fun."
Tristan took her hand. "A day will come when you'll be glad you're not a boy. Go see if you can find Drew. Tell him we have need of him for the cotillion."
"He planned to visit his tenants today," Michael said. "Drew is much too duty bound and must oversee every inch of his estates."
"So should you all," Nicola said. "Papa said that was the only way to be sure you were not cheated. He taught me how to keep his books for that reason."
Tristan laughed. "My dear Miss Gordon, I believe you are the perfect wife for my friend. I pray he comes to see you as you are."
Nicola looked away. Cairnton had expressed one of her desires. Had the Earl created a view of her she could never fit?
"Come," Niall said. "No time to waste. Music."
* * * *
When Drew stepped from his study, the music and the sound of Nicola's laughter caused him to crumple the letter in his hand. He tried to push the shards of envy away. She laughed with his friends; she talked to them. With him she was stiff and formal. Would her flirtatious ways continue after they had wed? He knew none of his friends would step over the line, but there were many men in London who would see wooing his wife as a challenge. Her laughter became his mother's. He stiffened his spine and left the house to find Sarad. The letter from Mr. Grey contained the news that Fergus Crawford had arrived in London and searched for the Gordon sisters.
When Drew entered the stables, Sarad straightened. "Do you wish your horse, my lord?"
Drew nodded. "I'll take care of him. This afternoon, I'd like you to present yourself in my study so you can explain what you've done to the ledgers."
"I would be most honored, my lord. Mr. Gordon trained me as his factor for the time when he left India. He didn't trust Crawford and wished to break the partnership. Alas, his death came too soon and in a bad manner."
"What do you mean?"
"We had just left Calcutta to journey north when we were set upon by thugs. Sahib Gordon was sorely wounded."
Drew frowned. "Were they hired by Mr. Gordon's partner? Tell me about him."
The young man's eyes widened. "Much evil. Many demons."
Drew leaned against a stall. Even Crawford's name frightened Nicola's servant. The change in the young man's speech told that story.
"He came to house. Miss Nicola very frightened. He wanted to force her to marry him. She planned to run away when man from England come and say she is to marry you."
Drew thought about the terse words he had just read. "Why does he want the girls?"
"Miss Nicola knows about gems and is good at finding those with value. All have much money. He is greedy but for Miss Margaret, I fear. Crawford likes young girls. In Calcutta, he has a house where he keeps them."
"I see." Drew reached for his saddle. He would keep the news of the man's arrival a secret. In four days, Nicola and her sisters would be safe.
"Why you want to know about the evil one?" Sarad's voice rose to a high pitch.
Drew didn't answer. He saddled his house and rode from the stables. When he reached the first tenant he planned to visit, he discovered he no longer had the letter. Had he dropped it in the stables?
* * * *
At the end of the cotillion, Nicola stopped to catch her breath. She looked toward the door. Sarad stood in the hall and waved frantically. "My lords, Captain, I will return soon. There is something I must see to."
"Mayhaps we should continue our lesson after dinner. Your grandmother can persuade Denmere to join us and we will be able to practice a four couple cotillion."
Nicola wanted to rub her aching feet. She slipped into the hall. "Sarad, what is wrong?"
"He...he come."
"Who?"
Sarad handed her a crumpled piece of paper. "Evil one."
As Nicola read the note from Mr. Grey, she knew why Sarad was frightened. Cousin Fergus had arrived in London and claimed he was the rightful guardian of Nicola and her sisters. What if he discovered them before the wedding on Sunday? She couldn't bear to think what that might mean. She knew so little about England and she didn't know how to arrange an escape. There was naught to do but pray and wed the Earl. Then she had to leave Denmere before he consumed her spirit.
"Thank you, Sarad."
"Nica, where are you?" Elizabeth called. "Have you forgotten we must go to the village and fetch our gowns?"
"I'll be right there." Nicola turned to Sarad. "Do not let your mother or the girls know Cousin Fergus is near. Once I'm married, the Earl will protect us." She hurried to join Margaret and Elizabeth. Why had the Earl hidden this news from her?
* * * *
Drew leaned against the wall in Baron Rasher's ballroom. His gaze focused on his betrothed as she moved through the figures of a country dance. The candles in the chandeliers cast light and shadow in changing patterns. The heavy scent of a multitude of roses cloyed and the music from the six-piece orchestra sounded too loud for the room.
Miss Gordon's dress shimmered. Her smile caused Drew's shoulders to tense. She joined hands with Devonley. Drew felt as alert as a duelist waiting for the count.
Good lord, he thought. 'Twas nothing more than a dance. Yet, he didn't like the way the young Viscount's gaze focused on the neckline of Nicola's dress. He recalled his reaction when she'd come down the stairs at Denmere. He had wanted to wrap her in a cloak and forbid her to leave the house. Why had Aldora allowed her to wear such a daring gown? When they were married, he would personally select her clothes. He wouldn't permit her to wear gowns designed to draw a man's attention the way his mother had.
The music ended. A mad rush for the dining room began. Nicola walked away from Devonley. Drew nodded. At least she had remembered her promise to sit with him for the repast. He threaded his way through the mass of people to reach her side. Miss Rasher pulled Nicola into one of the window alcoves. Drew approached near enough to hear what was being said.
"I won't listen to you," Nicola said.
Miss Rasher laughed. "Don't think you will be a success in London. 'Tis because you are with the Earl and his friends who think they must dance attendance on you. You will never be a diamond like I wil
l."
"Why would I want to be a diamond? They are hard and cold. Besides, I have no wish to go to London."
"What? Not go for the Season? Clearly you have no idea what your station will mean. But then, a merchant's daughter will have no standing with the ton, not even with the Earl's and the Dowager's clever plan of passing you off as her granddaughter. I'll see everyone hears the truth."
Nicola straightened her shoulders. "I don't know why you are saying these things. Could you be envious?"
"Hah! Everyone knows the Earl marries you because his pockets are to let. I will never have to buy a husband the way you are."
"There's no reason for your jealousy. I want no part of the ton. There is more to life than balls and gossip."
"Oh la, you are so provincial." The blonde laughed. "I see the Earl has failed to give you a betrothal ring. That shows how little he thinks of you." She turned and stepped from the alcove.
Drew started forward and stopped. Indeed, Miss Rasher was right. How could he have forgotten to buy her a ring?
"But he has given me a ring." A flush colored Nicola's cheeks. "You see, 'twas too large and I couldn't wear it until the Earl has the band cut to size."
"How very convenient. I don't believe you." Cynthia Rasher brushed past Drew and hurried toward the doors.
"There you are," Drew said. "Tristan, Michael and Niall are dancing attendance on your grandmother and the buffet. If we don't go now, there will be little food left."
She looked up at him. "How much of her nonsense did you hear?"
"About the ring, I have been remiss." He reached for her hand. Though she had defended him, he believed she had chosen to soothe her own pride.
"It does not matter."
"I fear it does. Miss Rasher will spread her poison."
She looked up at him. "Her words will harm nothing more than my pride. Those you count as friends will know she speaks from jealousy. She thought to charm your friends and in that, she failed. We both know this is no love match. There is no reason to bow to convention."
He straightened. "There is every need." He saw Tristan across the ballroom. Gratified for his friend's presence, he led Nicola to the dining room. If he had been alone with her, he would have taken her into his arms and he wouldn't have stopped with a single kiss.
Chapter 10
As Drew left the house and strode toward the stables, he yawned. Though he would rather be abed, the trip to Oxford had to be made. He inhaled a breath of the crisp air, and caught a hint of the coming spring. The sun lifted above the horizon and he paused to savor the moment. The pink-stained clouds and the slow transformation of the lake from ebony to blue had never failed to bring pleasure. Denmere was his and he would do what he must to see the estates restored and the lands productive.
Just as the land belonged to him, so did Nicola Gordon. Eagerness to reach Oxford and to purchase the rings that would mark her as his filled him. Though last night she'd reminded him theirs was no love match, his failure to give her a betrothal ring marked him as no better than a flat. He hadn't meant to give the impression he trifled with her. Miss Rasher's taunts had made his transgression in the eyes of society quite clear.
Why had no one reminded him? Aunt Aldora, his friend, Mr. Grey? Why should they? He knew the rules that governed society. The fault was his.
The shrill cry of a horse propelled him across the yard and into the stable. "Who goes there?" he shouted. He heard a cry and the rustling of straw. Just inside the wide doors, he saw Niall's black tied outside one of the stalls. An overturned bucket and some rags lying on the ground puzzled him. Drew approached the gelding. In the light entering through the open doors, he saw gashes on the horse's legs.
Who, he wondered and bent to examine the extent of the injuries. Niall wouldn't have left the black unattended. Nor would Jem or either of the newly hired grooms. He straightened.
"Margaret!" he bellowed.
The gelding snorted and sidled away. Drew stroked the silky coat to calm the beast. Once the horse settled, he strode down the length of the stable, pausing to check for the culprit in the stalls on either side of the aisle. Straw crackled beneath his boots. Horses nickered and bumped against the wooden walls.
"Margaret, you will present yourself at once. You were warned to leave the black alone. You have willfully disobeyed me. Come out and face your punishment." He spoke in low and measured tones, keeping a tenuous hold on his anger toward the wayward child.
"This is no prank like the one you played in the schoolroom. If Niall's mount is injured beyond healing, you will find yourself removed from Denmere and placed in a boarding school for young ladies where they will deal with your hellion ways."
He heard rustling in the pile of straw at the rear of the stable. With long strides, he moved toward it.
"Margaret, come out. If I must search, it will go worse for you. You will be confined to your room until your hair turns gray and only be allowed out on Sundays for church. I forbade you to ride Niall's black. I am sure your sister did the same. Though Niall found your pleas amusing, he won't find the injury a joke. What if the horse must be destroyed?"
A dark figure hurtled toward him. "I didn't mean to cause harm. The black is the most beautiful horse I've ever seen. I only wanted to ride faster than the wind."
He captured and held the struggling child against his chest. "This is what happens when you surrender to your impulses." As anger again threatened to burst through the imposed bonds, he inhaled. "Like a thief, you took what wasn't yours. Like a weasel, you crept from the house to do what was forbidden. You must learn to control this kind of actions before you destroy yourself."
She shuddered and went still. "I truly didn't mean to hurt the Captain's horse. I didn't mean to steal. I am most sorry. Don't send me away. Cousin Fergus will find me and do the dreadful things he whispered when no one could hear."
Her body shook. Drew felt her fear as though it was his own. "Go to the house. When I return from Oxford, we will end this matter and set your punishment."
Without looking back, she ran to the house. He groaned. To have this happen on the eve of his wedding might prove to be a disaster. How could he punish Margaret without causing another point of contention between his betrothed and himself? If Nicola took exception to her sister's punishment, he would have to tell her Crawford had arrived in London and even now searched for the three girls.
He shook his head. He didn't want Nicola to come to the marriage because she feared another man. He ran his fingers through his hair. What could he expect from her other than money and an heir? He couldn't ask for or believe in her love.
Pushing troubled thoughts away, he strode to the door of the room where Jem sat. "Ramsey's black has been injured."
The burly man opened the door. "I be right there, my lord. How be this happen?"
"Do not ask."
"The young one then," Jem said. "She has the touch but she be small and feckless." He fastened his breeches and followed Drew to the black. There, he knelt and examined the horse's legs. "I be fetching my ointments."
Drew saddled his gray gelding and backed the horse from the stall. "I'll be back this afternoon. Tell Niall I'll handle the matter of my ward then."
He mounted and rode the horse down the oak-lined lane. As he headed for Oxford, his thoughts turned to Nicola. How could he expect her to care for him when he'd done nothing to make her feel he wanted her company?
* * * *
Nicola completed the final ansana of her morning routine. She rose and stripped off the dhoti and shirt she always wore. After washing, she put on her dressing gown and walked to the window. Sunlight sparkled on the lake. The height of the sun told her she had slept later than she had planned.
"Oh, Miss, I have your tea." The round-faced woman chosen by Mrs. Bowed to replace Agnes Smythe backed into the room.
"Thank you, Peggy. I'll pour for myself."
The maid crossed to the wardrobe and took out a simple dress of azure Cambric mus
lin. "His lordship rode off early this morning. Cook said he didn't wait to break his fast."
Nicola put the cup on the tray. Why had he gone this time? Would he return before tomorrow when they were expected to stand in church and speak their vows? She nibbled on her lower lip.
If he didn't return, what would she do? Cousin Fergus was in London. Before long, he would discover where she andher sisters were. She inhaled to control the shudders that coursed her body. Though she wanted to return to Calcutta, she didn't desire to make the trip with Cousin Fergus' fangs embedded deep in her flesh. That would mean disaster for her sisters and worse for herself.
After she dressed, she stepped into the sitting room. Neither of her sisters was there, but on Saturday and Sunday, there were no lessons to be done. She smiled and pictured Margaret in the kitchen arguing with Cook over the amount and kind of spices to be used in each dish being prepared for the morrow. Surely Elizabeth flitted from the ballroom to the Great Parlor where the wedding buffet would be served.
As she stepped into the hall, she thought about Drew's latest absence from Denmere. Were his actions any different from her decision to leave the morning after the wedding?
Of course they were. He'd run away because he didn't want to marry her. She planned to leave because her dream of love would go unfulfilled. Tears welled in her eyes. She brushed them away with a wish to have the love she'd seen between her parents.
Instead of heading to the stairs, she opened the door of her grandmother's sitting room. The scent of lavender had replaced the musty aroma present when she and her sisters had arrived in Denmere. Deep rose draperies hung at the windows. The sofa and chairs had been covered with rose and gold brocade. A deep blue carpet covered the floor.
"Good morning, Grandmother."
The Dowager turned. "La child, you are the very image of your mother, though her nature was more like Margaret's." She reached for the teapot and filled a second cup. "Why are you so downcast? Tomorrow is your wedding day."
Nicola kissed her grandmother's cheek. "He has gone again. What have I done to make him flee my company? What if he doesn't return?"
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