A Visit From Sir Nicholas (37 page)

"You have plenty of money."

"It's irreplaceable."

"Ah well. Rather a pity then." She studied the blue underglazed jar. "I believe I started after Christopher was born. I don't remember exactly what prompted me to throw my first vase, but I do remember the intense sense of satisfaction and, well, relief, I would say. The heft of the object in my hand. The release of letting it fly. And the enormously satisfying crash as it shattered against the wall. Precisely why I prefer vases, you see."

"I'm afraid I don't." He directed his words to her but kept a careful watch on the pottery.

"Glasses, especially crystal, are light and rather inadequate to the task." She shook her head. "Not like a good vase."

"Ginger jar," he corrected and chose his words carefully. "What, pray tell, is prompting you now?"

"Ah yes, the matter at hand." She narrowed her gaze. "Do you have something you want to tell me?" Not if he wished to save his jar from certain destruction. "I don't think so."

"No?" She raised a brow. "Nothing at all?"

"No?" It was more a question than an answer.

"About Miss Godwin?"

"Teddy?" His heart sank. How much did she know, or did she merely suspect? "Why would you think—

"

"Come now, Nicholas." She glared at him. "I saw her leave. Not more than ten minutes ago. I refuse to be placed in this position again, knowingly or unknowingly. I will not stand for it." He stared at her for a long moment. Relief washed through him, and he grinned. "You're jealous."

"I most certainly—" She huffed. "Yes, apparently I am jealous." His grin widened. "How delightful."

"It's not the least bit delightful," she snapped. "It's maddening. I have never been jealous a day in my life."

"Charles never made you jealous?"

"No." She heaved a frustrated sigh. "Never. I would have been possibly, if I had known of his
activities
, but as I didn't…" Her eyes narrowed. "What is your relationship with Miss Godwin?"

"As I told you the last time you were jealous, Teddy is a very old and very dear friend. Indeed, she helped me with the order from Fortnum and Mason. She has a gift for that sort of thing." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the desk. A jealous Elizabeth was rather intriguing and most amusing. "I daresay I couldn't have done it without her."

She studied him with obvious suspicion. "And she stayed here all the while you were at my house and afterwards?"

"Not at all. If you must know, we met this morning. She guided me in selecting items for the tea and was most instrumental in convincing Fortnum and Mason to put the order together at once." He met her gaze.

"Her charming persuasiveness coupled with a great deal of my money is why your tea was such a success." He raised a brow. "It was a success, wasn't it?"

"Rousing," she muttered. "Why then was she here this evening?"

"My, you are jealous." He chuckled. "It's most appealing."

"It's not the least bit—"

"Teddy stopped by on her way to the theater to see if all had gone well." It was the truth as far as it went and, for now, he saw no need to tell her anything else. "Nothing more than that." Elizabeth considered him for a long, silent moment, then sighed. "I feel like something of a fool." She set the ginger jar down. "Again."

"Jealousy, brought on by jumping to conclusions, will do that."

She shook her head. "Even so, it's a part of myself I am unfamiliar with, and I do not like it."

"I, however, find your jealousy and your foolishness rather charming."

"I should send Miss Godwin a note of thanks," she murmured. "And my apologies as well."

"No need to apologize," he said quickly. He could not conceive of anything more dangerous than a true friendship springing up between Elizabeth and Teddy. No, it was in the best interest of all involved to keep these two women as far apart as possible. "She has no idea of your erroneous conclusions. Besides, it would simply embarrass her."

"I suppose. But a note of thanks—"

"Would be most appropriate. Now then." It was past time to get the subject off Teddy and onto something far more important. "About this jealously problem of yours—"

"I do not have a problem with jealousy." A reluctant smile lifted the corner of her lips. "My problem is you."

He resisted the urge to move toward her. "Oh?"

"Yes, well you see." She clasped her hands together and glanced around the room, her gaze falling anywhere except on him. "That is to say…"

"Yes?"

"I have given this matter a great deal of thought. Due consideration, that is." He nodded. "Goon."

"And I have decided, well"—she drew a deep breath and met his gaze—"I will marry you, Nicholas."

"Will you?" he said slowly.

They were the words he wanted to hear. The words he'd waited for. Why then wasn't he overjoyed?

"Yes, I will." She nodded firmly.

"Why?" At once he realized there was something here that he'd missed. Something that nagged at the back of his mind.

"Why?" Her eyes widened. "What do you mean, why? You've given me any number of reasons why I should marry you. For one thing, you control my finances."

"Ah yes, of course." He forced a light note to his voice that belied the sinking sensation in his stomach.

"You want me for your money. Not very flattering."

"That's not it, Nicholas," she said quickly. "And you well know it."

"No, I didn't think it was. What I do think"— even as he said the words he couldn't believe he was saying them—"is that, at the moment at least, marriage between the two of us might well be a mistake."

"What?" Shock rang in her voice.

"I'm not entirely sure marriage right now would be the wisest course."

"Why on earth not? It's what you've wanted all along."

"Yes it is and I still want it."

"Then—"

"You jumped far too quickly to the conclusion that there was something between Teddy and myself."

"That's what this is all about? Most men would be flattered." Her voice rose. "Besides, why wouldn't I be jealous, Nicholas? She is a lovely, desirable woman, and you—"

"Yes?"

"You are," she drew a deep breath, "everything a woman could ever want."

"Thank you. Nonetheless, I don't think you should enter into marriage with a man you don't trust."

"Nonsense, Nicholas. I might not have trusted you initially. You did break my heart after all, and that's not something a woman forgets easily, but you have more than proved to me the kind of man you are."

"Did I break your heart?" he said quietly.

"It's taken me a decade to admit it, but yes, you did. Regardless, I am certain you are now a man I can trust with, with," she lifted her chin, "with the rest of my life."

"Can you? You say you've never known jealousy, yet you assumed the worst when you saw another woman leave my door."

"Obviously because I cannot bear the thought of you with someone else. Did I mention you should be flattered?"

He shook his head slowly. "I'll not pay for another man's sins."

"What?" She shook her head in confusion. "Whose sins?"

"A few moments ago, when you thought there was something more than friendship between Teddy and myself, you said you would not be put in that position again."

"I see." She nodded. "And rightfully so. You can scarcely blame me for that."

"I don't." He chose his words with care. "When I told you that I had been faithful to you in my heart all these years, as trite as it may have sounded, it was the truth. I have never loved another woman."

"You…" Her voice caught. "I never imagined—"

"When we met again a few weeks ago," his gaze met hers, "I asked you if you were at peace. You didn't answer."

She scoffed. "Because it was a silly question."

"Because you aren't at peace. Not with Charles."

"Charles is dead." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Dead and buried and gone."

"And you never had the chance to confront him. To resolve things between the two of you. He shared his life secretly with another woman for more than half of your marriage. You can't tell me that you don't have any number of questions about that relationship."

"Oh, I suppose I do. It would be only natural to have a certain amount of curiosity—"

"As much as you claim to have forgiven him, you said it yourself: He is an unfinished chapter in your life." She shook her head. "Even so—"

"He betrayed you."

"I know that," she snapped. "And you broke—"

"Damn it all, Elizabeth. I did what I thought was best for
your
life and
your
future and
your
happiness, and I am bloody well tired of apologizing for it. It was the biggest mistake of my life and the noblest thing I've ever done. I did what I did in the manner I did to assure you would marry the man I thought, the man everyone thought, the man
you
thought, was right, indeed,
meant for you
. To assure your happiness."

"Well, you were wrong!"

"Only in hindsight. The years may have proved my actions in error, but given the same circumstances I would do precisely the same thing again.
For you
. And the mistakes made ten years ago were not mine alone!"

"Charles wasn't—"

"I'm not talking about Charles, I'm talking about you."

She gasped. "Me? Surely you aren't saying that I—"

"Oh, but I am. You could have argued with me. You could have refused to accept my edict. You could have fought with me, for me,
for us
. Damn it all, Elizabeth, you could have followed me!"

"Don't be ridiculous! There was no conceivable way that I… I didn't know… I wasn't sure…" She paused, and he could see the memory of their parting flit across her eyes. She squared her shoulders. "I was very young."

"We were both very young, but I loved you enough to give you up."

"And I was as big a fool as you to have allowed you to do so! Is that what you want to hear?"

"I don't know." A weary note sounded in his voice.

"What do you want me to do, Nicholas? To close this chapter? Shall I go to his grave and yell at the top of my lungs? Shall I find a spiritualist to contact his ghost?" She searched for the right words. "If I have forgiven him it's because I had no choice. If I have justified his actions it's because I didn't know what else to do to make it all make sense."

She turned away and paced the room. "Until his death I thought our life together was perfect. I had never noticed that it was not a
grand passion
, but I was content. I thought he was content. Until your return, I didn't realize that content was not enough. I didn't realize that I had, in all likelihood, married the man who should never have been more than a dear friend and allowed the friend who was very possibly
my
grand passion to walk out of my life."

"I would never betray you," he said simply.

"I know, and yet I am…" She fell silent for a long moment.

Nicholas wished he'd held his tongue. Taken her acceptance of his proposal and ignored the rest. But while he was willing to spend the remainder of his days atoning for his mistakes, he would not pay for Charles's. He wanted Elizabeth more than he wanted life itself, but not at this cost. And he feared through the years to come it might well destroy them both.

"I am afraid." She met his gaze. "I am afraid of admitting that I have loved you always. Of admitting my life thus far has been," she uttered an odd, short laugh, "a grand mistake." His stomach twisted. He was an idiot. She was willing to marry him. And she loved him. Nothing else really mattered. "Elizabeth."

She ignored him. "I think now I survived Charles's infidelity, even his death because, while I did love him dearly, he was never half of my soul." She drew a deep breath. "You are."

"Elizabeth." He started toward her.

"Please don't." She held out a hand to ward him off. "When I stormed over here I never considered any of what we've just discussed. But you're right: I trusted Charles implicitly and he betrayed that trust. However, even in those few days when I knew about his mistress, before his death, I was never jealous."

"It would have been understandable."

"But I wasn't. Yet every time you so much as look at another woman I think the worst when you have given me no reason to do so. And either I care for you more than I have ever thought possible or you're absolutely right. I am holding you responsible for Charles's failures." She turned and started toward the door, then swiveled back. "In truth, I think I might well blame you for everything."

"What?" His brows drew together.

Sparks flashed from her green eyes. "If you hadn't been so bloody self-sacrificing. If you had listened to your heart instead of everyone else—"

"Including you," he said pointedly.

"Oh, believe me, I count myself in that number," she snapped. "And I am probably as big a fool as you. But if you hadn't taken it upon yourself to make a decision that would affect both our lives without so much as a by-your-leave—"

"I was being noble!"

She snorted in disdain.

"And this is not all on my head." He narrowed his eyes. "If you hadn't been so concerned with convincing the world that you were nothing more than pretty and frivolous and empty-headed, perhaps Charles would have realized that you were not the right match for him in the first place. That you and he were not
meant to be
. Maybe, if you'd had the courage to be who you truly were with anyone other than myself, you would have had the courage to admit your feelings and stop me from walking out of your life!"

"You scarcely walked. You fled!"

"Fleeing certainly has a great deal of appeal at the moment!"

"On that, Sir Nicholas, we agree!" She turned on her heel and stalked toward the door, then turned back. "Christmas Eve and the Effington ball are the day after tomorrow. You needn't bother to escort me, I shall be at Effington House most of the day with the children."

"As you wish," he said curtly.

"I shall expect your decision as to the management of my finances then as well."