It held a place of honor in a small alcove and a bouquet of fresh, sweet-scented lilies from the estate’s greenhouses sat on a small shelf below the huge gilt-framed portrait.
Nell noted the flowers, but it was the figure in the portrait that caught her attention and held her frozen to the spot.
The subject was a young woman, wearing a gown of sapphire blue with hair of gold and sky blue eyes. She was the loveliest female Nell had ever seen in her life and she could not tear her gaze away from that heart-shaped face and dainty form that would not have shamed a fairy princess.
Elizabeth noticed her interest and coming to stand beside her, said softly, “Lady Catherine, Julian’s first wife. Isn’t she just a perfect pocket-sized Venus? She was so lovely. Her death was such a tragedy.”
“Lovely, indeed,” Nell said in an empty voice. It was one thing to have a faceless rival, another to know that the woman who had taken her husband’s heart to the grave with her had been an incomparable beauty. Nell’s looks were not to be lightly dismissed, but she believed herself to be no more than passably pretty. Not for her that glorious mane of brilliant golden hair, and she suddenly hated her tawny locks, neither gold nor brown, but something in between. And as for eyes…Who would ever care for sea green ones when they’d stared into big eyes the color of a summer sky? And that rosy Cupid’s bow mouth…Torturing herself, she studied Lady Catherine’s perfect form. Not for Lady Catherine a tall, slim, boyish figure, no, Lady Catherine was everything she was not—perfect!
Lady Diana joined them and, staring at the portrait, sighed. “Her death was so sad, so terrible—a carriage accident, I believe. She was so young and so very beautiful. My late lord said that something died within Julian when she did. He was so worried about him he said he feared that Julian would throw himself into the grave with her.” Her fingers caressed one of the petals of the lilies. “I see that Julian still has fresh flowers set before her. I wonder if he will ever…”
A pinch from Elizabeth reminded Lady Diana who was standing beside her and, laughing nervously, Lady Diana put her arm through Nell’s. Patting Nell on the hand, she said, “I never knew her. She was already dead when I married Julian’s father and what I know about her I learned from him. I know that Julian was devastated by her death, but now he has you and I am sure will be happy again.”
Nell doubted it.
And that night when Julian came to her, she repulsed his advances for the first time. Lady Catherine’s beautiful face lodged in her brain, she turned away from him and said in a low voice, “I am sorry, my lord, but I am not feeling well tonight.”
Sprawled beside her on the big bed, Julian had already noticed that she seemed unusually quiet this evening and studying her face, he noted the shadows in the lovely eyes and the paleness of her complexion. “A headache, perhaps?” he asked, taking her hand in his.
Nell looked away from his handsome face and gently disentangled her hand from his. “Only a little one.”
He studied her profile, conscious of her withdrawal. And the uneasiness that something was very wrong between them grew. “Have I offended you in some manner?” he asked slowly, his green eyes intent.
Her gaze flew to his. “Oh, n-n-no!” she exclaimed. She forced a smile. “I am just a little tired and out of sorts lately.”
Julian accepted her words and dropping a chaste kiss on her forehead walked back to his own bedchamber. The door barely shut behind him before Nell buried her nose into the pillow and burst into tears. She was the most miserable wretch alive and she wished she was dead.
Julian did not sleep well that night. Only a fool would not have realized that Nell was unhappy and he was not a fool. Lying sleepless in his bed, he scoured his mind trying to put his finger on the moment that she’d begun to change, when he’d experienced those first twinges that there was something wrong between them. Not exactly wrong, he decided, but different. He could not recall an incident, a word, or an action, no matter how small, that could have brought about the changes he sensed in her. Tonight had brought it home, though, that his instincts were not at fault. Without having ever won her, he had the terrifying feeling that he was losing her. He smiled bitterly. First Catherine and now Nell. Of course, he’d never wanted to win Catherine.
Both times he’d married under pressure from outside forces, neither time had it been because he’d wanted a wife. With Catherine, despite his misgivings, he’d married to please his father. And just look, he thought savagely, how that had turned out! They’d both been miserable, the death of his unborn child adding to his misery. Although he’d vowed never to wed again, Nell’s catapulting into his life had turned his world upside down and once again he’d married for all the wrong reasons, if noble ones. But with Nell he’d been…He’d been, he admitted wryly, eager, hopeful…And now, for reasons he could not explain, Nell was drawing away from him, putting him at a distance. What the hell was he to do? He would not again endure the angry fits and starts, the tears, the recriminations, the screaming arguments that had characterized his first marriage.
Comparing Nell to Catherine was unfair, he admitted—the two women were as different as chalk and cheese. With Catherine he’d never, that he could recall, experienced the pleasure, the delight that Nell gave him. Never.
Annoyed with himself, feeling that he’d been lunging at shadows where there were none, he punched his pillow and tried to get comfortable. Tonight was unimportant, he told himself. Nell had a headache and there was nothing in that to fill him with such disquiet. There was nothing in her gentle rejection to make him think that the ground had shifted beneath his feet. But she was…pulling away from him. He could feel it and was powerless to stop it. At least, so far, he reminded himself darkly, she has not started bursting into tears at the sight of me and blaming me for every ill in her life.
The holidays came and went and although Nell missed her family fiercely, she accepted the fact that Julian and Lady Catherine and Elizabeth were now her new family and she could be happy or she could be sad. She chose to be happy.
January began gray and dreary. Nell was surprised by the lack of snow and the temperate climate, but she longed for spring. After several weeks of rain, as January drew to a close, she felt like a caged animal. Oh, how she wanted to escape the confines of the house. She was not alone in this feeling—even Lady Diana and Elizabeth were moping around. Then, to everyone’s joy, the rain stopped and the sun began to shine. Three days later the roads had begun to dry and the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky. Eager to escape the house, in the afternoon, the ladies, accompanied by two grooms, set out on a gentle ride. Julian was away in Dawlish on business.
Nell was riding a restive black mare, the other two women each riding a gentle hack that suited their abilities. The grooms followed sedately behind them.
The day was fine, cool in the shade, but comfortable, almost warm in the sunlight. After weeks locked inside the house, it was wonderful, Nell thought, to be outside and on horseback again. Stifling the urge to let her mare out into a full gallop, she managed to enjoy the plodding pace that Diana chose.
The countryside was not at its best—many trees leafless and barren-looking, and there were muddy, boggy patches in the road that had to be avoided, but still, it was pleasant. Nell had not yet had much of a chance to explore and she looked about herself with interest, liking the glimpses of rolling terrain she spied through the various wooded areas. Fields, orchards and pastures lay beyond the trees, deep thickets of forests surrounding them, and she vowed that in the spring she’d spend hours and hours in the saddle acquainting herself with the area.
When Diana declared that she’d ridden enough, Nell sighed. Though they’d ridden several miles, her mare was barely warmed up and, unable to control the impulse, she turned to look at Diana. “If you don’t mind, before we head back, I’m going to let my horse stretch her legs.”
Ignoring Diana’s shriek of dismay, Nell gave the mare her head and with a snort and a half-rear, the
mare raced away like the wind, leaving the others behind. Feeling the powerful body surging under her, her face slapped by the streaming mane, Nell let the moment engulf her. It seemed magical as they flew past trees, fences and pastures, the mare actually taking flight as she jumped over the muddy patches in the road. Nell loved every moment of it and she wished she could ride and keep on riding forever. For a little while her melancholy vanished and she forgot her cares. Forgot the portrait of a beautiful woman hanging above a bouquet of lilies and a husband whose heart would never be hers.
Exhilarated and flushed, eventually Nell slowed the mare. Snorting and prancing the horse let her know that another few miles wouldn’t come amiss, but laughing and patting the sleek neck, Nell turned her around and began to ride back to rejoin the others.
The mare traveled at a good pace but they did not cover much ground before one of the grooms, Hodges, riding at a mad gallop, came into view. “Oh, my lady! What a fright you gave Lady Diana,” he cried when they met and pulled their horses to a stop. “She is convinced that your horse ran away with you.”
“I was eight the last time a horse ran away with me,” Nell said lightly. Patting the sweaty neck, she added, “And this little mare is far too good-mannered to try such a thing.”
Nell ran her gaze over the groom and his mount. She knew Hodges from the stables and knew his reputation for being a neck-or-nothing rider and the neat bay gelding he was astride looked like he’d give the mare a good run. “How far back are they?” she asked thoughtfully.
“A couple of miles.”
A mischievous smile lit her face. “Then shall we see which of us has the better horse?”
A light touch of her heels and the mare shot away. With a gleeful shout, the young groom followed.
The mare had a small advantage, Hodges was heavier and Nell had caught him by surprise, but within moments, as they careened down the road, the bay’s head was at the mare’s flank. They swung around a curve, lined by the forest, the bay fighting to take the lead when three does, eyes bulging from their heads, exploded out of the woods in front of them. Nell desperately yanked on the reins trying to avoid a collision. The mare stumbled and the last thing Nell remembered was flying over her head.
She woke lying on the ground, her head cradled against a very broad masculine chest. Nearby she could hear Diana weeping and the young groom trying to explain what had happened. Blearily Nell glanced around and sighed with relief when she spied the mare contentedly cropping grass not six feet away, the bay beside her.
Her head ached and she knew that she’d have some impressive bruises to show for her spill. She struggled to sit up.
“No, lie still,” commanded a man’s voice, “and let me see how badly hurt you are. And for God’s sake, don’t wiggle and make things worse—Julian would have my hide if I let anything happen to you.”
She jerked her head up. A stranger held her, but she knew him. “Cousin Charles,” she said faintly.
He smiled. “Yes, it is indeed wicked Cousin Charles at your service, your ladyship.”
Chapter 11
It was as well, Nell thought, as she lay staring up at Charles Weston that Julian had warned her that he and his cousin could pass for twins. The man looking down at her reminded her forcibly of her husband, yet there were differences. Both were harsh-featured, but Julian was by far the handsomer of the two. They shared other similar features: their coloring, their eyes, the formidable chin and nose and the general shape of their faces. She suspected that someone who did not know either man very well could mistake them for each other, something she did not. There was an expression in Charles’s eyes that troubled her…The lack of expression, she realized. Charles Weston’s eyes were as cold and unforgiving as the North Sea in December with none of the warmth and humor that her husband’s gaze possessed.
Weston smiled at her and she noted that the smile did not reach his eyes. She didn’t think that she liked him and she certainly did not like the intimacy of their position. Struggling in his arms, Nell attempted to sit up, but he held her in an iron grip.
“Be still. That was a spectacular spill that you took. Give yourself a moment,” he said.
Startled, she asked, “You saw me fall?”
“Indeed, I did. I drove up behind you a split second before you went flying over the mare’s head. Now, let me take a look and see how much damage you’ve done.” Despite Nell’s protest, he removed her dashing emerald green hat with its saucy yellow feather and tossed it carelessly on the ground. With surprisingly gentle fingers he probed Nell’s head, grunting when Nell winced and cried out as his fingers touched an area near her temple. Moving even more gently he examined the area. His examination finished, he flashed her a singularly attractive smile and said, “You’ll live, my lady. You’ll have some bruising, but the skin is not even broken. A day or two of rest and you’ll be good as new.”
“Thank you,” Nell muttered, “but I could have told you that myself.”
Hearing Nell’s voice, Lady Diana rushed over. “Oh, Nell, tell me that you are not dead!” she begged, her pretty face full of anxiety. She dabbed a scrap of lace to the corners of her eyes. “Julian will kill me if something happened to you while you were in my care.” A sob broke from her. “Why, oh, why did we decide on this wretched ride?”
“Mother, hush!” said Elizabeth, sending Nell an apologetic look. “It is no one’s fault. It was an accident and as you can see Lady Wyndham is certainly not dead.”
“Are you sure?” Lady Diana asked doubtfully, her big velvet-brown eyes fixed on Nell’s wan face.
Nell smiled at her. “I am fine. I will, no doubt, be sore and bruised, but it is nothing to fret over.” She glanced at Weston. “May I get up now?”
He studied her features a moment longer, then shrugged and rose to his feet. “Whatever my lady wishes.” Reaching down he easily pulled Nell to her feet.
Her head ached and the world spun when Nell stood upright. She swayed and her bad leg crumpled beneath her; Lady Diana shrieked a warning and a pair of powerful arms swept Nell off her feet.
“I think,” said Weston, holding Nell against his chest, “that you are not as fit as you think.”
Her stomach roiling and her leg aching like fire, Nell’s head drooped on his broad shoulder. “Perhaps, you are right,” she admitted.
“What is to be done?” Lady Diana cried, wringing her hands and looking around helplessly. “How will we get her home? She cannot ride and Wyndham Manor is miles from here.”
“I think you forget, my lady,” said Weston dryly, “that Stonegate is only a few miles away; I shall take Lady Wyndham there in my curricle.”
Lady Diana grabbed frantically at his arm. Alarm in her voice, she wailed, “Charles, are you mad? Julian will not like it at all.”
Weston laughed. Not a very nice laugh, Nell thought. “Since when have I cared a farthing for what my esteemed cousin likes or does not like?”
Lady Diana moaned and disappeared into her scrap of lace.
Agreeing that Julian would not want to find her a guest of his cousin Charles, and paying no mind to her whirling head, Nell muttered, “It won’t be necessary, Mr. Weston, for you to go to all that trouble. If you will set me down, I am sure that in a few moments I will be fine.”
Ignoring her, Weston turned on his heels and said over his shoulder to Elizabeth, “Miss Forest, I beg you do something with your mother before I ring her pretty neck.” He looked down at Nell who was struggling to escape his firm grasp. “And, you, my lady, quit wiggling around or I’ll dump you on the ground for being such an ungrateful baggage.”
Nell looked into his cold green eyes and immediately ceased her struggles. He meant it. Docile as a lamb, she allowed him to place her on the seat of the curricle.
Climbing into the curricle, Weston picked up the reins. Looking at the two grooms, shifting from foot to foot, he commanded, “One of you return to Wyndham Manor and inform your master of the accident. Assure him that his lady
has not suffered any lasting harm, but that I have taken her to Stonegate to be tended by my stepmother until he can arrive with a suitable carriage to bring her home.” Turning his attention to Lady Diana and Elizabeth, he added, “You and your remaining servant shall accompany us to Stonegate to await my dear cousin.” He flashed a wintry smile. “You shall be Lady Wyndham’s protection from my nefarious attentions. After all, everyone knows that I dare not be alone with any respectable woman without making an attempt to ruin her.”
Clinging to the seat of the curricle, as Weston set his horses at a spanking trot, Nell fought to keep from disgracing herself by retching over the side of the vehicle. The fall had shaken her more than she had realized, certainly it had played havoc with her bad leg, and she tried to be grateful for Weston’s assitance. It was difficult—knowing the estrangement between the families, she would have preferred just about anyone other than Charles Weston to have happened upon the scene.
Followed by Lady Diana, Elizabeth and the remaining groom, they traveled only a couple of miles along the road before turning off at the impressive stone gate that Nell assumed gave the estate its name. Another half mile of winding, forest-edged road and the curricle swept into a wide circular driveway. Pulling the horse to a stop before an elegant, three-story stone house of indeterminate age, Weston jumped down from the curricle. Walking around to the other side of the vehicle, he plucked Nell from her seat and effortlessly carried her up the three broad steps and strode across the stone terrace toward a pair of massive dark wooden doors with huge black iron hinges.
Leaving their groom to handle the horses, Lady Diana and Elizabeth followed right behind Weston. Three feet before they reached the doors, one of the doors swung open and a tall, cadaverous gentleman garbed in splendid black livery stood to the side, holding the door wide for Weston’s entrance.
Scandal Becomes Her Page 17