Sweet Bravado

by Alicia Meadowes

  “Thank you,” she whispered and pressed a light kiss on his cheek.

  “Nicole?” He reached for her.

  “Yes?”

  Checking himself abruptly, he answered curtly, “Never mind, it was nothing.” And he quickly left the room.

  If only he could tell her how he felt. But no, not yet! He could not stand another rejection as he had in Paris. They might be sleeping together, but there was more to love than that. Nevertheless, things were beginning to look hopeful. She didn’t even protest when he took her this morning after having forced her to submit to him last night. Yet he would have to learn to be patient. Valentin laughed. A patient Harcourt! Well, he could try.

  Nicole was not sorry for her intervention on Perry’s behalf, for later that same afternoon Valentin’s brother burst into the drawing room and swooped Nicole into a bear hug lifting her off her feet. “Nicole!” he yelled, “Val’s relented! I am not to be sent packing!”

  “Oh, Perry, I am pleased.” For more than one reason, she thought ecstatically. Valentin had listened to her and complied with her request.

  “Actually, there was not much else he could do.” Perry swaggered.

  “Perry, never underestimate the power of your brother to make things go his way.”

  “Oh, ho!” he jeered, “so, my dear sister-in-law has finally come to know her husband.”

  “Never you mind,” she replied sternly before returning his smile. Then changing the subject, she invited him to join the ladies for tea. Hastily he remembered another engagement and fled from the scene.

  In Brussels there was the certainty that war must come, and yet everywhere there was the disbelief that it actually would come. It was as if only constant activity could convince the people that life was normal and not about to tumble headlong into chaos.

  Reports of minor skirmishes between Napoleon and the Allies were duly circulated, embellished, distorted, and dissected. Once more Napoleon was assuming the shape of invincibility. Everywhere he passed the countryside defected to him.

  But, of course, there was Wellington who knew how to deal with the Corsican ogre. There was nothing to fear with such as he to command the Allies. Wellington would settle Napoleon once and for all. Would he not?

  So the city of Brussels continued to swell with the influx of men who prepared for war while the ladies filled their days with a flurry of social activities.

  At Lady Barclay’s card party Nicole found herself in the presence of Tessa Von Hoffman, but unlike past encounters, Nicole detected a change in her regard toward Valentin’s former mistress. Noticing the lady’s voluptuous curves, she decided that the woman was over-ripe— an overstatement of the provocative femme fatale who shamelessly drew attention to herself at every opportunity.

  “The men in their uniforms are such a thrilling sight. I vow I never expected to find Brussels so enchanting.” Tessa was rhapsodizing about the current military scene. “What is it about a man in uniform that makes him so irresistible?”

  “I think it must be that men are at their best in war,” Sophie Everly, a romantic featherbrain, chimed in. “All that manly strength and courage marching so valiantly to face death and destruction. It makes me quiver with admiration.”

  “My dear Sophie,” Maria Bellington adjured, “I see nothing to admire in men cutting each other to pieces and spilling their life’s blood in the carnage of war.” The note of censure in her voice attracted the attention of others.

  “Oh, but I did not mean that at all,” Sophie replied abashed.

  “Then just what is it that you think they march to, child?” Maria pursued.

  “I did not think. I only meant they look so grand in their uniforms; as Madame Von Hoffman remarked.”

  “Madame Von Hoffman’s reason for being in Brussels is not the necessity that has brought many of us here. Since she has no one dear she fears to lose on the field of battle, it must make for a perspective somewhat more careless…,” Caroline Revington added with ill-concealed malice. Justin Revington was whispered to be the latest object of the Von Hoffman charm.

  “Oh, but you do me an injustice, Lady Revington,” Tessa returned smugly. “There are many I hold dear among those gallant defenders.”

  What had started as a mere exchange of pleasantries was threatening to become a verbal battle.

  “Can it be half past the hour already?” interposed Laura Plendell with a mind to sidetrack a dangerous conversation. “I do declare my husband gave strict instructions for me to be in attendance when he arrived home this evening. Dear Lady Barclay, I must leave. Such a lovely party.”

  Lady Barclay cast a grateful glance to Lady Plendell for her timely intervention which led the way for the breaking up of the party. Soon all were making their compliments and leaving for home.

  Nicole went to look herself over before the Viscount arrived to escort her home. When she opened the door to the powder room, she was confronted with Tessa Von Hoffman who had just risen from the vanity. Nicole hesitated on the threshold. Although they traveled in the same circle, they were never alone together or spoke to one another. But now Tessa faced her, a challenge in her eyes.

  “Don’t leave on my account, Lady Ardsmore.”

  “I won’t.”

  “No?” Tessa drawled. “But then why should you unless you still see me as a threat.”

  Nicole sat down in front of the vanity ignoring Tessa while the older woman studied the Viscountess’s reflection in the mirror. Then she startled Nicole by asking, “Do you love him very much?”

  Nicole swung to face her. “That is none of your affair!”

  “Yes, you love him. Who would not, eh?”

  “I do not have to listen to this!” Nicole stood up as if to leave, but Tessa’s next words arrested her.

  “Why he prefers you to me I do not understand. I would have remained his mistress even though he married you.”

  “How dare you say these things to me!”

  “Why not? If the chance comes for me to get him back, I will not hesitate to take it.”

  “That you will never do!” Nicole retorted triumphantly. “You’ve lost him to me forever.”

  “You think so?” Tessa taunted.

  “I don’t think so, I know so. I don’t fear you any more, Madame Von Hoffman.” Nicole was surprised at the conviction in her words. “If anything, I feel sorry for you.”

  “Feel sorry for me?” Tessa was flabbergasted.

  “Yes, you’re rather pathetic—having to seek out other women’s husbands—never finding a man who will desire you for himself alone. I really see it now—you are pitiable.”

  “Pitiable! Why you little beast, I could tell you stories…”

  “Not anymore,” Nicole cut her off. “You’ve already done your worst, and you’ve failed. If only you had some pride and would stop chasing after a man who no longer wants you, you would cease being an embarrassment to all of us.” Nicole sat down and turned her back on her adversary, but her knees were shaking.

  Speechless with rage and frustration, Tessa stalked from the room muttering darkly, “We shall see.”

  Still trembling with anger and nerves, Nicole determined that Tessa would never get Valentin in her clutches again, and forgetting her toilette, she raced along the corridor to the staircase, stopping abruptly to witness the scene below.

  Valentin was crossing the deserted hallway to greet Tessa who had just descended the last stair. He was bestowing a charming smile on the lady as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it briefly. “Ah Tessa, looking as lovely as ever, I see.”

  “And you, mon brave, handsome as the devil himself.”

  He bowed slightly in acknowledgment of the compliment. “Come tell me, how are you?”

  “I go on, but I still miss you, Liebchen.” She made as if to encircle his arm, but he stepped away.

  “I do not like to contradict a lady,” he said lightly, “but with all those adoring swains at your feet, how could you miss me?”


  “Well, one must have some diversion, n’est-ce pas?”

  “To be sure,” he responded with a laugh. But noticing Nicole poised at the top of the stairs, Valentin sobered and walked past Tessa. “Ah, there you are, my sweet.” Then remembering the lady, he turned and bowed saying pointedly, “Goodbye, Tessa.”

  “Goodbye, Valentin.” Tessa watched him turn to Nicole, her eyes full of bitter resignation.

  Nicole took Valentin’s outstretched hand as his gaze swept her face looking for her reaction. To his relief she betrayed nothing.

  Smiling she said, “I’m ready, my love.”

  On the way home they spoke little, and Nicole knew that Tessa figured in his thoughts as well as hers. But Nicole no longer considered the older woman a rival. She had passed beyond that stage of jealousy where Tessa was concerned. This afternoon she saw the woman clearly for the first time. And she had observed the Viscount’s casual handling of her, too. Sighing, Nicole snuggled closer to her husband who seemed surprised, yet responded with aplomb by kissing her lightly on the cheek.

  “Behave,” he scolded affectionately, “or those passing soldiers will think I am escorting a chère amie instead of my wife.”

  “Valentin!” she exclaimed indignantly as he began to shake with suppressed laughter. “You are incorrigible.”

  “Am I, love?” He winked at her wickedly.

  “Yes, but I… I like you that way.”

  He stared at her, slowing the horses to a sedate walk before remarking, “You never cease to amaze me, Nicole.”

  “Good, I like to keep you guessing,” she responded playfully.

  He threw back his head laughing and grasped her about the waist with his free hand.

  “Val, watch where you are going.” She squirmed from his encircling arm. “And remember the passing soldiers.”

  He bent his head toward hers and growled next to her ear, “To hell with the soldiers.”

  “No, you are right and we must behave. I acquiesce to your better judgment.”

  “Why, you little minx, when have you ever acquiesced to me?”

  “Right now, my lord,” she answered sweetly.

  She was rewarded with a bark of laughter. How she loved that handsome face with its endearing, flashing smile. Nicole reached up touching his cheek with her fingers, and his hand closed over hers drawing it to his mouth where he placed a kiss on the palm. His eyes blazed down at her, and she melted against him.

  “Ah, ah, my girl.” He shook his head negatively. “Remember your willingness to acquiesce to my better judgment.”

  She blushed. “Very well, my lord, I shall sit here sedately, and watch the handsome soldiers in their splendid uniforms.”

  Valentin eyed her suspiciously until she giggled. “Jade!’ He winked and turned his attention to the horses to hurry them on their way.

  Watching the passing parade, Nicole had to admit to herself in all honesty that she was not entirely opposed to Tessa’s rhapsody about men in uniform. She, too, found them a gallant sight. Her pulses could be stirred by a martial tune as well as the next. And there was something noble and inspiring about a soldier’s willingness to face battle. But her heart stopped when she tried to imagine the man seated beside her on the battlefield. Dear God, what would that be like? She cut off the thought midstream before the horror of it could grasp her fully.

  “Here we are, my love, home at last.” His deep voice intruded on her disturbing thoughts. She gave him a wistful smile, and let him lift her out of the curricle.

  Chapter XV

  Taking a mid-morning stroll, Nicole and Cecily walked along the River Dender to watch the military contingents from the Allied countries gather for parade maneuvers in the Parc de Bruxelles. The sight of so many splendid young men in their colorful uniforms flashing with gold and silver and marching to the stirring martial music was a thrilling occasion for the ladies. It reminded Nicole of the recent conversation at Lady Barclay’s. It was true that men in uniform were inspiring to see. And the military pageantry was an effective antidote to the creeping fear of war.

  “Are they not magnificent?” Cecily claimed breathlessly

  “Indeed they are,” agreed Nicole. “If the music and marching continue much longer, I shall join ranks with the men and march to battle along side of them.”

  “Gracious, Nicole, but you do get carried away. It must be the French blood that causes such emotional tendencies.” Cecily could never resist a sly thrust if the opportunity presented itself.

  Nicole was just about to snap back at her when she noticed a dark gentleman in the crowd whose general bearing seemed familiar. Almost at once he looked up and caught her eye. Beauchamp! What was he doing here? The sight of him was displeasing, and already he was heading in their direction.

  “Cecily, we have spent far too much of the morning here. We shall be late for luncheon if we do not start back at once.” Nicole turned to leave.

  “Oh, pooh! I want to see everything.” Cecily resisted Nicole’s tug on her arm. “Oh look, Nicole. Is that gentleman not seeking to gain your attention?” Cecily nodded toward Beauchamp who was shouldering his way through the crowd.

  Nicole ignored her question and exclaimed, “Cecily, I really must insist. Valentin especially wanted me to be present for luncheon today, and I would not want to disappoint him.” She turned on her heel and headed on the path homeward.

  “Oh very well,” Cecily pouted. “If you must spoil the fun, I suppose I have no choice but to follow. Nevertheless, I feel there is plenty of time, and besides that dark man was trying to reach us, I am sure.”

  “What man was that?” Nicole asked while keeping up the hurried pace she had set for them.

  “The one I just mentioned.” Cecily stopped and pointed behind them.

  “I am sure you are mistaken, Cecily. Now do come along.” Once again Nicole tugged on Cecily’s arm commandeerïng her homeward. It took a measure of self-control to resist a furtive glance over her shoulder to see if Phillippe Beauchamp were following. She could not say why, but the sight of him in the park seemed to hold a menace of some kind.

  Nicole fretted the rest of the afternoon. All she needed was Phillippe to upset her life. A French cousin! Just a few days ago Lady Raymond had suggested to Nicole that her world must be topsy-turvy, living all those years under Napoleon as a French citizen and now to find herself an English Viscountess. Nicole wished to avoid any encounters that might seem suspicious, however innocent.

  Unfortunately her hopes faded the very next morning when Phillippe Beauchamp’s card was presented, and he strolled into the drawing room.

  “You are early for a morning caller, cousin,” Nicole greeted him coldly.

  “I desired to see you en particulier. I have a matter to discuss which must preclude other parties,” Phillippe stated arrogantly.

  “I cannot imagine anything you would have to say to me which must be spoken of in private,” Nicole answered just as arrogantly.

  “Can you not?”

  “What could you possibly be hinting at, Phillippe?”

  “Eh bien, I shall inform you. Lord Crawley… I know the circumstances that led to his death.”

  She sighed unhappily. “I do not know how that concerns you.”

  “Vraiment? Joseph, he was how shall I say… your bon ami…”

  “I find your suggestions insulting in the extreme!”

  “Me, I suggest nothing. I am aware that the Viscount, your husband, has had cause to… question your fidelity, non?”

  “If you think our being related will allow me to stand here and listen to your vile insinuations, you are terribly mistaken, Phillippe. I think you had better leave at once, and do not trouble yourself to retain the connection between us any further. Adieu!” She turned to leave the room.

  “Do not play the grande dame with me, Nicole. You will listen to me or have much cause for regret.”

  Nicole could not walk away. Her guilt over the past held her captive to his threats. “Very well
, Phillippe, get your nasty business over with so I can be rid of your presence.”

  “Doucement, cousine, doucement. You will change your haughty tone when you have heard all I have to say.”

  Nicole did not reply further, but faced him stolidly, awaiting the harm she feared he intended.

  “So now I proceed, eh? You have been very indiscreet, my little one.” She blanched as he went on. “I have here from you a note to Lord Crawley.”

  “A note?”

  “Oui.Written in your own hand. I shall read a most interesting portion to you.‘I will be happy to assist you in this endeavor which must endear you to any true Frenchman!’ “Phillippe lifted his eyes from the note and regarded her smugly.

  “That was an acceptance note concerning the ballet company,” she explained.

  “So you say.”

  “What do you mean?” She was frightened now.

  “This note that you allege concerns the ballet…”

  “It does!”

  “Ah, as I said before,‘so you say’.” He held up his hand as she was about to protest. “But others might see it in a different light, non?”

  She refused to respond to the sneering man standing over her.

  He continued. “It could so easily be interpreted to show your willingness to assist Napoleon Bonaparte.”

  “Bonaparte? What absurdity are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your helping Crawley betray the English.”

  “What?” she asked incredulously.

  Impatiently Phillippe insisted, “Crawley was in the pay of the emperor.”

  “No, I do not believe you!”

  “He was deeply in debt and was quite agreeable to our plan. As an Englishman he had access to places otherwise closed to us, oui? Crawley was able to glean much valuable information for us. Malheureusement, he lost his head and let the Viscount force him into that fatal duel. Imbécile! His hatred cost him his life and us a very useful contact.”

  Nicole shuddered in revulsion.

  “We planned it so carefully, and he ruined everything.” He sighed contemptuously. “So now we must begin again. And you, ma chère, must aid us.”