Busbee, Shirlee

by Lady Vixen

  But he was able to ignore such prickings with a certain amount of ease by reminding himself how he would feel if New Orleans fell to the British. To a point the attitude of most Englishmen toward the war in America reinforced his own conviction that, for the most part, they couldn't care less what happened on the other side of the ocean. Somewhat to his astonishment he had discovered that the greater part of the populace was indifferent to, even uninformed of, the war in America.

  The majority of the British population had been more concerned with and caught up in the terrible war with Napoleon to waste much thought on the trifling affair with those hotheaded Colonials. The knowledge that most everyone viewed the war as merely a domestic scrabble —one that Britain would promptly settle—only added to Christopher's determination to see that precisely the opposite happened.

  His grandfather had not helped matters when Christopher, out of perverse curiosity, brought up the subject, and Simon, looking startled, asked, "Are we at war with America?"

  Casting his eyes heavenward in exasperation Christopher snapped, "Yes, and have been for two years!"

  Simon, uncomfortable, muttered, "Well, I knew something was going on over there," which just about summed up the general attitude of everyone in England.

  By the middle of August Christopher was almost ready to concede defeat. He had been in England nearly five months, he had surmises aplenty, rumors by the roomful, and gossip, Jesus Christ, the gossip, he thought angrily. But no goddamn proof! That thought reverberated through his brain daily like a cannon, and he knew he was ripe for mischief or murder—which it might be wasn't important, either would relieve his growing sense of futility.

  CHAPTER 26

  Over the months Nicole convinced herself that whatever attraction had once existed between her and Christopher was well and truly dead. She could now meet him socially without any loss of composure, and if her heart still jumped in her breast when their eyes met unexpectedly, she told herself that eventually even that would fade.

  To a large degree Robert Saxon was responsible for this apparent change. He was witty and urbane, and enough like Christopher to capture her interest, and he was a welcome departure from her young and ardent suitors. He was tantalizing and aloof, yet managed adroitly to let Nicole know that she was the object of his desire.

  Nicole enjoyed Robert's company. He could make her laugh at his outrageous remarks, and yet, by the glitter deep in those sea-green eyes, he made her blood run just a little swifter, and she found herself dreamily wondering what it would be like to have him kiss her.

  If she found Robert attractive, she deliberately kept Edward at arm's length. She had no intention of falling for his specious charm, but nor did she wish to enrage him. Too well she remembered his petty revenges from childhood. But Edward seemed impervious to her hints, and without creating an ugly scene, she had to submit to his wooing. She found it a chore, more than once having to bite back an exclamation of disbelief at Edward's blatant flattery. She found him a little too charming, a little too gracious, and too obviously smitten for her to think him sincere. He was also extremely vain and inclined to preen himself unashamedly. He thought himself very dashing and brave, making certain that Nicole learned that his malacca cane was actually a cleverly constructed sword cane, and rather pompously intimating that she had nothing to fear when he was in attendance. Nicole was hard pressed not to burst out laughing—did he think Lord Saxon or Lady Darby would let her go anywhere there was the least chance that she would be in danger? Somehow strolling through Hyde Park with all the members of the ton bowing and scraping politely, she thought it seemed a ridiculous place for one to sport a sword cane. But then Edward was a trifle ridiculous. After she kept Edward at bay, bored with his posturings and banal conversation, it was no wonder she turned with relief to the mature and exciting courtship of Robert Saxon.

  With Robert she was not on her guard, she could be easy with him, and she found herself looking forward to those moments when they could steal away from Regina's watchful eye. There was a promise in his gaze that made Nicole very aware that she was a woman and that Robert Saxon was an extremely attractive and fascinating gentleman.

  Fascinating and brazen too, she thought with amusement one night at Vauxhall Gardens, when he very deftly whisked her out from under Mrs. Eggleston's and Lady Darby's presence and down one of the many winding paths that offered privacy and seclusion.

  She was looking particularly lovely this evening in a white, gauzy gown, her hair worn in a cloud of soft curls around her smooth, milky shoulders. Her hand rested lightly on Robert's hard-muscled arm, and the topaz eyes were bright with laughter as she said gaily, "You are acting most outrageously! Behaving, I must say, most improperly—you know Lady Darby is going to be furious with us?"

  "As long as you find no fault with my actions, that is all that matters to me," Robert replied. The moonlight intensified the handsome silver streaks in his dark hair, and dressed this evening in a dark coat with jewel buttons, he was looking most distinguished.

  "Oh, I don't mind," Nicole answered truthfully. "Sometimes I feel so hemmed in, I could scream with the silliness of it all. I don't see why we can't even go for a walk without a chaperon! It's perfectly ludicrous!"

  Nicole was used to freedom, freedom that would have astonished those who knew her now, and the stiff conventions of England's upper ten thousand frequently made her resentful. She disliked intensely the constant supervision of either Lady Darby, Mrs. Eggleston, or her maid if no one else were available. She could not even walk through Hyde Park by herself or go to the library or to her dressmaker's without some sort of escort, and when she thought of the careless freedom of the days of the La Belle Garce, her indignation sometimes became almost uncontrollable.

  Some of what she was feeling showed in the expressive face, and Robert, his eyes resting on her tempestuous features, felt his heart tighten, and without thinking, he swiftly drew Nicole into his arms. Staring down into her startled face, he said lightly, "Chaperons are definitely needed for young women as beautiful as you are, my dear. And they never let you out of their sight because they fear this will happen." And deliberately he kissed her on the mouth.

  It was a questing kiss and did not assault her senses as Christopher's kisses did, but it was very pleasurable after all.

  A shy smile on her lips when he released her, she asked demurely, "And what is so terrible about that?"

  Robert had thought he could control himself, but the soft yielding sweetness of Nicole's mouth was his undoing, and muttering, "Because it leads to this!" he swept her into a passionate embrace, his lips compelling hers to part, allowing him to drink hungrily of the honey within.

  Nicole returned his embrace unstintingly, her bruised heart healing and reviving under Robert's heady kisses. He kissed her a long time, and at last, his eyes nearly black with passion, a leaping tenderness gleaming in their depths, he released her momentarily. He stared at the lovely young face before him and, his breathing jerky, muttered thickly, "I love you, Nicole! I adore you, my dearest darling!" Sweeping her once more against his tall frame, he covered her face with passionate kisses, finding her mouth at last in a long urgent taking of her lips. It was thus that Regina found them.

  First shocked and then furious, she stared unbelievingly at the locked figures a second before bursting out in an angry tone, "Have you gone mad, Robert? What is the meaning of this?"

  The two figures parted, admittedly slowly, and Nicole, bemused by the knowledge that someone as handsome and polished as Robert Saxon could love her, looked blankly at Regina, while Robert, a pleased smile on his mouth, started forward and said soothingly, "I know, my dear aunt, that this is extremely unorthodox, but Nicole and I—"

  Regina, her face thunderous, snapped, "I'll have a word with you in a minute! Nicole, you return immediately to Lord Saxon and Mrs. Eggleston! You I'll talk to as soon as we reach Cavendish Square. You are a disappointment to me, miss, I can tell you that! Now go!"

&
nbsp; Reality came flooding back abruptly, but her chin set mutinously, Nicole was prepared to do battle, until Robert said, "Go, my dear. It is better that Lady Darby and I discuss this between us."

  Sending Lady Darby a speaking glance, she complied and disappeared quickly down the path. She was barely lost to sight, when Robert, turning to face his aunt, said coolly, "Was it necessary to speak to my affianced wife in that tone?"

  Astonishment threw Regina off stride, and she repeated in a stupified voice, "Your affianced wife?"

  "Yes. I have not spoken to my father yet, as I should have, but there can be no possible objection," Robert explained impatiently. "And if you wish, I will wait until after I have spoken to him before formally approaching Nicole, but it seems rather a ridiculous state of affairs. I mean to marry her and I'm fairly confident that she will accept me."

  "You are mistaken!" Regina said icily, drawing herself up proudly. "There is a prior understanding between Christopher and Nicole—your father has already given his approval for the match." It was an outright lie, but Regina never let such trifles stand in her way. She had made up her mind that Nicole and Christopher should marry, and nothing would deter her.

  Robert's face darkened with chagrin and rage. "I don't believe it!" he burst out furiously. "Why, that young whelp hasn't come near her a half dozen times this entire summer. I have been the one constantly at her side, not he! It is to me that she looks, not him!"

  Regina merely looked bored. "My dear nephew, that has nothing to do with it! If you chose to make a cake of yourself over a chit younger than your own daughter, that is your affair, but put Nicole Ashford out of your mind, for she is not for you. She will wed Christopher, you mark my words."

  Dislike glittered in his eyes and his mouth thinned in a tight, ugly smile as Robert bowed stiffly, "We will see, my dearest aunt, we will see."

  Regina watched him as he strode angrily away. Robert, she could see, was going to be difficult. It was such a pity, she thought unemotionally, that his fancy had to alight on Nicole. But then she shrugged her shoulders dismissingly, a setback would do him a world of good. But if her plans were not to suffer a setback, she must tackle Simon immediately. He must be convinced to go along with her mendacious story. She hoped he would not prove too awkward.

  Simon did not prove awkward at all, although he did give Regina a momentary fright. She was coolly polite to Nicole for the remainder of the evening, and as the constraint between them was obvious and as Robert had left their party so unexpectedly, it was not a difficult matter for Mrs. Eggleston and Lord Saxon to grasp the fact that something had occurred.

  At Cavendish Square Nicole was sent summarily to her room by Regina, apparently in disgrace, and then as the three older members of the party settled in the blue salon for a few minutes of conversation before retiring, Regina divulged all—including her mendacious story.

  There was a gasp of dismay from Mrs. Eggleston at Nicole's wanton behavior, and her mouth a round O of surprise, she heard the remainder of Regina's tale. Frowning a little, she inquired timidly, "Have you countenanced the match, Simon?"

  "Of course he hasn't!" snapped Regina. "I made that up!"

  "Oh!"

  After his sister finished speaking Simon said nothing; he merely regarded the amber-hued brandy in his glass for several moments. Finally he lifted his eyes and from under those scowling black brows stared fixedly at her. "Ever stop to think that the chit might prefer Robert to Christopher?" he asked quietly.

  Appalled, Regina gaped at him. "Simon! You cannot mean you would rather see Nicole married to Robert! I don't mean to hurt, and I know he is your son, but you cannot deny he led his first wife a dreadful dance. I often think she died just to escape him!"

  Simon nodded. He was under no illusions about his youngest son but felt he had to say some word in his defense. "Robert didn't want to marry that pale-faced little thing, but I insisted upon it. It was," he said with a painful smile, "an excellent match. I forced him into it, thinking I was doing it for the best." His face suddenly sad and haunted, he glanced at Mrs. Eggleston. "You would have thought I'd have learned better, considering I had done the same thing myself."

  Mrs. Eggleston smiled mistily at him. "Don't let it distress you, my dear, it is in the past."

  Regina watched them, torn—retreat and let them work things out or stay and fight for Nicole, even if the little baggage didn't want her to? Fighting won, simply because any fool could see that it was only a matter of time until Letitia and Simon worked out their own future, something, she acknowledged with a faint pang of regret, that they could do without her help, whereas Nicole . . .

  "That's all very well and good!" she said briskly. "But it still doesn't make Robert a proper husband for Nicole."

  "Hmm, no, it don't. But I'll not have that young filly forced into marriage with my grandson, simply because we three think it a capital idea. If she wants Robert, I won't stand in her way," Simon said heavily.

  Regina could have shaken him. Of all times for Simon to turn romantic! People of their station had been marrying without love for centuries, and here he was objecting just as if she were intent upon thrusting the girl into marriage with a man half in the grave and repulsive as a toad, instead of a fine healthy animal like Christopher.

  "Very well," she said coldly. "If you are not willing to help, there is nothing I can do." Then her icy front melted instantly, and she wailed, "But, Simon, Nicole doesn't want Robert, she only thinks she does! Even Letty believes that Nicole and Christopher are in love, but too stupid and proud to admit it!"

  Simon glanced at Mrs. Eggleston. "That true, Letty?"

  Mrs. Eggleston nervously pleated her pale blue satin gown. She wouldn't look at him as she said softly, "I believe so. We were once as they, and let our pride blind us."

  Simon paled, for it was the nearest they had ever come to discussing their own abortive love affair. But first things first, he thought determinedly. "I'll compromise. I will not deny, nor confirm to Robert that there is an agreement between Nicole and Christopher, and I will withhold my consent for the time being for a match between Robert and Nicole."

  It was the most Regina could hope for and with it she had to be content. At least, she thought comfortingly, Simon would not, for the moment, allow an engagement between Robert and Nicole to take place.

  ***

  Christopher's day started simply—a morning's fencing at Angelo's. Christopher had spent several hours over the months boxing at Gentleman Jackson's salon at Number 13 Old Bond Street, but while he enjoyed the gloves, his real love was the sword. He was frequently found at Angelo's with a rapier in his strong hand as he worked off some of his pent-up energy.

  This particular morning he had stopped in with Captain Buckley and Lieutenant Kettlescope for an hour or two with the foils. Perhaps a dozen or so gentlemen were in the studio, several watching the little Frenchman Angelo as he revealed the intricacies of a rather involved parry.

  There was an exchange of greetings, and Christopher and Captain Buckley walked to the changing rooms. Lieutenant Kettlescope, a slender young man with sleepy blue eyes, decided suddenly that he really didn't feel like exerting himself after all and ambled to a seat in the box window that overlooked a courtyard.

  Captain Buckley cast a merry smile at Christopher. "Anthony, I fear, is truly a lazy fellow. I wonder how he manages to fulfill his duties when on board ship?"

  Christopher merely shrugged, not in the mood for idle conversation. He was still struggling with his conscience over using Buckley and Kettlescope for his own ends, and he sometimes found it difficult to respond to their careless, lighthearted conversation. Today was no different, but some of his moroseness vanished when they met in the arena a few minutes later.

  Christopher was already a formidable opponent, an accomplished swordsman few would care to meet in a real contest of skill. Captain Buckley, a few years Christopher's senior, was no novice himself, but shorter, just under six feet, and more compactly built;
what he lacked in height, he made up for in fury.

  They bowed mockingly at each other, then the tips of their buttoned foils kissed briefly, and "En garde!" During the next half hour they filled the air with the whistle and clash of expertly handled steel blades.

  Captain Buckley, breathing heavily and powerless against Christopher's blade, eventually called a halt. "Damn you, Chris, why don't you ever lower your bloody guard? I thought I had you with that flanconade, but you were too fast for me—blast it!"

  The two of them were at the moment the only ones using the wooden-floored fencing arena, and they noticed that all the gentlemen, including Angelo and some others, were gathered near the front of the building, laughing and exchanging jests.

  Captain Buckley, never one to be behind the times, immediately strode toward the group and demanded good-naturedly, "What is so interesting that you are all clucking like a gaggle of geese over a crust of bread?"

  "It is Daventry! He has the drollest story about Brummell and the regent. Come listen!"

  Christopher, not overly interested in the latest conflict between Prinny and his greatest of dandies, remained standing where he was. He paid little attention to the story being told; his gaze wandered over the group—and suddenly fell on Robert.

  Robert was lounging at the edge of the circle, evidently having accompanied the gossipy Daventry, for Christopher was certain his uncle had not been there earlier. Apparently Robert was also uninterested in the current story, for as their eyes met he sauntered slowly toward Christopher.

  It was an accident that Robert was here at Angelo's this morning. Past the age of wild, youthful spirits, he seldom felt the need to exhaust himself in any such activities. But he was an excellent swordsman and had watched intently the last few minutes of Christopher's exchange with Buckley.

  Robert's pursuit of Nicole had made him willing to let his feud with Christopher wait for a more opportune moment, but last night's exchange with Regina had pointed out rather painfully to him that Christopher could still thwart his plans. The thought that Nicole was to be Christopher's wife woke all his sleeping rage. Seeing the object of his hatred standing negligently before him, so much nearer Nicole's age than his, so tall and handsome, he experienced a terrible burst of fury. He mastered it, but his eyes were hostile. "You handled that foil rather well . . . for someone so obviously untrained," Robert sneered, his jealousy driving him half mad.