“I don’t have to stand here and take this,” Flora said through clenched teeth.
“Good point,” Ian said. He looked over at Nica, held out one arm and smiled. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” Nica replied, returning the smile. She took his arm and the two of them walked away without a backward glance.
As soon as Nica and Ian vanished into the crowd, Mrs. Cartwell approached Flora from behind and lightly tapped her elbow. Flora spun around and glared until she realized who she was looking at. She managed, barely, to wipe the glare away, but she was too angry to attempt a smile. “Do come with me, Miss Layton. I have something I’d like to show you.”
“Actually, I was just going to look for a friend, Mrs. Cartwell,” Flora said. “Perhaps later?”
“I think not. You will come with me, immediately, or I will say what I have to say to you, here and now. I’ve no objection to making this even more public than you’ve already made it, Miss Layton,” Mrs. Cartwell said, her voice quiet and cold, her eyes twin chips of ice. “It’s up to you.”
“Of course, Mrs. Cartwell,” Flora replied, attempting to sound gracious. Inwardly she was torn between fear and fury. She had nothing near to the kind of power needed to take on someone of Mrs. Cartwell’s rank, and she knew it.
Flora allowed Mrs. Cartwell to guide her out of the ballroom, unable to come up with a single excuse for her behavior. If she could claim to be engaged to Ian, that might change things. But Mrs. Cartwell was the type to go straight to Ian to confirm such a claim and she really didn’t need to embarrass herself further.
Once they were out of sight of the rest of the guests, Mrs. Cartwell dropped her hand from Flora’s elbow and picked up her pace, striding briskly up the hall to the foyer. She gestured to her butler who quickly left them alone, then she turned to face the younger woman.
“I do not need to point out to you which lines you crossed, Miss Layton,” she said coldly. “Do I?”
“No Ma’am,” Flora replied.
“You were taught well enough how to behave in other people’s homes, yet you chose not to abide by those rules. Since you entered my home without an invitation, I can only assume your intent was to sabotage the success of my ball.” Flora shook her head back and forth in alarm at that, but Mrs. Cartwell ignored her and continued speaking. “You will leave my home, Flora Layton, and you will never, ever, step foot in this house or on the grounds again. Furthermore, if I hear even a whisper of this sort of behavior coming from you again, even the smallest rumor of it, I will have you permanently black listed from all good society.”
Flora’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she gasped in shock. Mrs. Cartwell smiled serenely, pleased with Flora’s reaction.
“Very good,” Mrs. Cartwell said, clapping her hands together. “Good evening, Miss Layton.” She turned and went back to the ballroom without another glance, leaving Flora alone in the foyer to let herself out.
This isn’t fair, she thought as she sat in the back of her carriage ten minutes later. Not fair at all. She was supposed to marry Ian Fadden, live in Fadden Townhouse, and rule over Fadden Fields as mistress. That was her destiny, one she’d fought and struggled and plotted and planned for since she was twelve years old. There’d been only three females close enough in age and power to be suitable for Ian to wed, and she’d made certain the other two were taken out of the running years ago. It was all set. All that was left was for Ian to ask the damn question.
Oh, he didn’t love her, but that was fine as she didn’t love him, either. She barely even liked him, truth be told. But she adored his money, his power and his status. That was enough for her. Ian’s sense of responsibility would force him to marry her, and that was enough for him. It had been, anyway, before yesterday.
Flora watched the dark streets go by outside her window and remembered the expression on Ian’s face as he’d spoken to the beautiful brunette at his side. He’d never looked at her like that. But what did it mean? Was he in love with the other woman? And if he was in love, would that be enough to make him turn his back on his self-imposed duty?
Flora didn’t know the answer to that because she didn’t know anything about love. What she did know was that she wasn’t going to sit still and let someone else waltz in and snatch up her prize. No way. That meant she had to get rid of Miss Nica Vinia. And Bree too, while she was at it. But how?
***
Ian guided Nica out of the ballroom, across the front hall and out a side door to a lush, cool garden. The moment the fresh air hit her face Nica closed her eyes and tilted her head back and breathed deeply. Ian watched her worriedly. During the confrontation with Flora, Nica had appeared perfectly calm and unruffled. But as soon as they’d walked away she’d begun to grow more and more pale with nearly every step.
“Thank you, Ian, for bringing me out here,” she said when she opened her eyes again. “It’s just what I needed.”
“I’m sorry about Flora,” he began, but Nica shook her head.
“There is no need for you to apologize for her behavior. Besides, I’ve come up against worse, believe it or not.”
“You’re very pale all of a sudden. Are you unwell?”
“I have a headache,” she admitted. “It’s a bad one I’m afraid.”
“Let’s get you home then, before it gets any worse.”
“I don’t want to interrupt Bree’s evening. She’s having such a good time.”
“I know, but your health comes first and I’m sure Bree will agree.”
The pounding in Nica’s head chose that moment to double. When she was sure she could speak without being ill, she raised her head slowly. “As much as I wish I could stay, I really must leave. If you could help me to the carriage, your driver can take me back to Fadden House while you stay here with Bree.”
“Come on,” Ian said, deciding not to argue with her further. Nica took his arm and he led her slowly back inside. He passed the ballroom doors and headed for a carved wooden bench in the foyer. Nica sat down and raised her hands to her temples, rubbing them gently in a circular motion with her eyes closed.
“Is there a problem Mr. Fadden?” Mrs. Cartwell asked, hurrying toward them.
“I’m afraid Miss Vinia has developed a severe headache, Mrs. Cartwell. I need to collect Bree and take her home.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Cartwell said and turned toward her butler. “Arnold, be so good as to send someone to fetch Miss Fadden, and summon Mr. Fadden’s carriage.
“At once, Madam,” the butler replied, then left at a brisk walk.
Mrs. Cartwell sat down on the bench next to Nica and placed her palm on the younger woman’s forehead. She immediately winced and removed her hand. She’d wanted to determine if Nica really had a headache, or if she just wanted to leave. That brief touch had provided her with the answer.
“Perhaps you should stay here, Miss Vinia,” she said, shocked by the intensity of the pain she’d sensed. “You are quite welcome, I assure you.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Cartwell,” Nica said, placing one hand lightly over the other woman’s. She knew that Mrs. Cartwell had touched her for a reason, and she touched her back now to assure her that she was sincere. “You’ve been a gracious hostess, and you have a beautiful home. I will not forget my first ball, nor will I forget how kind you’ve been. I’ve no wish to offend you, but I prefer to return to Fadden House where my things are.”
“I am not in the least bit offended,” Mrs. Cartwell replied, patting Nica’s hand gently. She turned to Ian. “You be sure to let me know how your guest is doing, Ian Fadden. And don’t hesitate to call on a healer if you think she needs one. I can ask my healer to come check on her if you like.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cartwell, that’s very kind of you,” Ian said. “I will call our healer if Miss Vinia grows any worse, you have my word.”
“Ian?” Bree asked as she hurried up the hall toward them. “Nica! What’s the matter?”
“Just a headache,
” Nica said.
“It’s a severe headache,” Mrs. Cartwell corrected.
“I’m sorry, Bree, but I’m afraid I need to leave,” Nica said, her voice barely above a whisper because it hurt to talk now. “I hate to interrupt your evening.”
“Don’t be silly, Nica,” Bree said at once, earning a nod of approval from Mrs. Cartwell that she didn’t notice. She turned around and spotted the butler who’d just returned to his post, and asked him to call for their wraps. Then she turned back to Nica, frowning at her worriedly. “Maybe we should call a healer.”
“No, thank you, that’s not necessary,” Nica objected, still whispering.
“Nica, I’ve known you a long time and I’ve never seen you have a headache before. Not once.”
“I’m just tired, Bree,” Nica said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
“Of course you’re tired,” Bree replied briskly. “I’m a terrible hostess. You just spent two weeks on passenger liners and what do I do? I drag you out shopping all morning and then to a ball at night without giving you more than one night’s sleep.”
“I’m very glad I came to this ball, Bree,” Nica said. “Let’s argue about this tomorrow, all right?”
“All right,” Bree said, accepting Nica’s wrap from a maid and leaning down to place it carefully around Nica’s shoulders.
“Your carriage is waiting, Mr. Fadden,” the butler said.
“Thank you,” Ian said. He reached for Nica’s hands and helped her to her feet.
“Thank you so much for a wonderful evening, Mrs. Cartwell,” Bree said. “We’re sorry to have to leave so early.”
“Nonsense, child,” Mrs. Cartwell said with a wave of her hand. “It was my pleasure to have you. Now you help Miss Vinia home and into bed, and send me a note tomorrow when you get a chance to let me know how she is.”
“I will Mrs. Cartwell,” Bree promised. She moved to Nica’s other side and put her arm around her, then they were out the door and into the carriage.
“Was she insulted by Miss Layton’s behavior?” Mr. Cartwell asked his wife as he joined her in the doorway where she stood watching the carriage drive away.
“Not a bit,” Mrs. Cartwell replied. “She slapped Flora down like the annoying insect she is without turning a hair. It was truly memorable to watch.”
“Then why is she leaving?”
“She truly has a severe headache. I don’t know how she’s even lucid it’s so bad, but she managed to thank us for inviting her, and she was sincere, too.”
“I’m not surprised, she’s a very sincere young woman,” he said. “Come now, my dear, we still have guests to tend to.”
***
Bree left Nica’s room, closing the door quietly behind her. She was startled to see Ian pacing the hall, waiting for her. “Ian?”
“How is she?”
“Sleeping,” Bree replied. Ian’s relief was palpable.
“Would you like to have a drink with me?”
“Yes, that sounds good,” Bree said. They went downstairs to his study and he poured a glass of wine for Bree and, needing something a bit stronger, brandy for himself. They settled in the chairs before the fireplace and sipped their drinks.
“I’m sorry we had to cut the evening short, Bree,” Ian said, breaking the silence.
“I’m not,” Bree said. “I’m sorry Nica has such a horrible headache, but I didn’t mind coming home early.”
“But you were having such a good time,” Ian said, confused. “I know you were.”
“Yes, I was,” Bree said, smiling. “But I was kind of looking for someone who didn’t show up.”
“Oh yes?” Ian asked, instantly alert though he remained relaxed. “And who would that be?”
“His name is Quill Thomas,” Bree said, her smile lighting up her face. “Evan Hearken introduced us yesterday at the restaurant after lunch. He was really nice, Ian. They said they were attending the ball tonight, but I didn’t see either of them.”
“What does this Quill Thomas look like, Bree?” Ian asked, his hand tightening dangerously on the glass he was holding.
Her smile widened, too excited for the chance to talk about the man to notice her brother’s reaction. “He’s about your height, I think. Not as broad shouldered as you. He has blonde hair and brown eyes, and the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen.”
Ian’s hand relaxed on the glass as he raised it and took a healthy swallow of brandy. “Well, maybe you’ll run into him at another ball.”
“I hope so,” Bree said wistfully.
“Bree, I have to leave in the morning,” he said, changing the subject.
“I thought your rotation didn’t start until the end of the week.”
“Lucille Cole fell ill, so the rest of us have to pick up the slack until she recovers,” Ian explained.
Bree frowned. “How many estates are you doing?”
“With the extras, twenty six,” he admitted reluctantly.
“That’s too many!” Bree exclaimed. Ian frowned and she bowed her head contritely and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, Ian, but it’s too many and you know it. You’ll kill yourself.”
“No, I won’t,” Ian replied.
“Are the others doing twenty-six?”
“We each do what we can, Bree, you know that. I’m stronger than the others, so I do more.”
“It’s not fair, Ian. I bet Robert Dowsen only does half what you do.”
“Dowsen is doing fourteen, which is four more than he’s ever done before. He asked for six because he feels guilty that he does the smallest number. The rest of us refused to let him have that many.”
Bree’s eyes widened. “Then he’ll kill himself.”
“No, he won’t,” Ian replied, shaking his head. “With six more, he would, but he’ll be okay with fourteen with the new rules.”
“Rules?”
“The deterioration is so bad now that we Sylvans voted not to help anyone who refuses to be reasonable. Expectations have to be lowered or we will end up killing ourselves. If that happens, then no one will get any help.”
“What will the Druid Council say?”
“They approved it, of course.”
“Wow, that was easy, huh?”
“Nobody can tell a Druid what he, or she, can or cannot do with their power so long as they don’t harm anyone, Bree,” Ian said. “That includes the Druid Council. If a Sylvan chooses not to heal someone’s crops, that’s his or her prerogative. It’s just that simple. The only reason we submitted the matter to them was to make it official so that the younger Sylvans who haven’t quite got the backbone to refuse when estate owners make demands will have something to fall back on.”
“That’s a relief, but it doesn’t change the fact that you just recovered your strength, Ian,” Bree said. “Please, pace yourself this time. Don’t let anyone talk you into just one more acre, all right?”
“Don’t worry, Bree, I’ll be careful.”
“I’ll miss you, big brother.”
“I won’t be gone all summer,” Ian said. “I’ll need to come into town occasionally to meet with the other Sylvans. But I won’t stay long, and I’ll try not to interfere with you and Nica.”
“Nica?” she asked with a grin.
“Yes, Nica,” he said. “We agreed that I’m Ian and she’s Nica.”
“Well, that’s a start,” Bree said, earning a puzzled look that she blithely ignored. “You don’t have to worry about interfering with us, Ian. Honest. I’m sure Nica will agree.”
“Thanks, Sis. By the way, there’s a stack of invitations in my desk that you can go through tomorrow. I’ve already let the Westleys know you plan to attend tomorrow night, but if you decide not to go, send a note letting them know. And don’t forget to respond to those you want to attend.”
“Thanks, Ian, I won’t forget,” Bree said, trying hard not to roll her eyes. She was twenty three years old, but Ian still treated like she was a teenager. She knew the
rules of their society as well as he did, even if she didn’t have his experience. Which reminded her. “Since we’re on the subject of balls, I heard a rumor tonight that Flora showed up and made a scene with you and Nica. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is,” Ian said with a long drawn out sigh.
“Was she nasty to Nica?” Bree asked, her eyes narrowing.
“She was,” Ian said, smiling. “But don’t worry. Nica put her in her place so fast Flora barely knew what happened. It was kind of amazing to watch.”
“There’s a lot more to Nica than people realize,” Bree said proudly. Then she frowned. “You said Flora didn’t get an invitation, so why was she even there?”
Nica's Legacy (Hearts of ICARUS Book 1) Page 10