Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (41 page)

He sat on the edge of her sofa. "I hoped, afterwards, that maybe that scene at Therese's might have helped you cope."

She looked thoughtfully at him for a moment. "I see. You thought it might have made me hate you." She chuckled. "How could it with you playing silly tricks? My biggest problem then was to keep up the appearance of hating you until we were safely away, as that was obviously your purpose. I'm afraid Amy never quite understood. You may receive a frosty reception from her."

"I'll take care that you are close by to defend my honor. We'll know soon. They should be here today."

"Amy and Peter?" she queried in surprise.

"I sent a note to their love nest. They'll come if they can."

"Why, Nicholas?" she asked seriously.

He met her eyes frankly. "I'm surrounding you with friends so that you can make what decisions you must make freely."

He had seen the problem Miss Hurstman had seen. "There's no need for that. I trust you. I suppose," she complained, "you've sent for your brother, too."

He smiled. "No, I spared you that. Thank you for your trust, Eleanor." He rose to his feet and moved away to examine a rather ugly vase. "Perhaps it's that I do not trust myself."

It was as well that Miss Hurstman bustled in at that moment, for Eleanor sensed deeper waters ahead and did not care to explore them yet. Neither, she suspected, did he.

"Ah, excellent," Miss Hurstman said when she saw Eleanor. "I've no reason to gainsay the midwife and the other women here who say you must stay flat on your back, but it seems nonsensical to me. Why, I've seen simple women out in the fields within days of delivery. Nicholas, your groom asked me to tell you your horse has coughed... Well," she said, looking at the door, "that certainly got rid of him. Men. Always fussing about horses."

"But I think a cough in a horse is serious."

"Is it? Perhaps I should offer them my special linctus. Never had much interest in the beasts except that they get me from place to place."

"I used to like riding when I was young," mused Eleanor, "but after father died Lionel sold off the horses we kept in the country."

It was as a result of this that Miss Hurstman waylaid a wary Nicholas later in the day. "Horse all right?"

"Yes, thank you. A false alarm."

"Don't go rushing off, boy. Got something to say, and I don't believe in hints. Fancy you'd like to give Eleanor presents. Well, she'd like a horse, even though she's out of practice at riding. There. Don't say I'm always unhelpful."

On the contrary, Nicholas picked her up and kissed her, leaving her flustered and muttering but with twinkling eyes.

On his return he discovered Eleanor reading a book.

"Waverley," he remarked. "I admit to not being a great admirer of Sir Walter."

"He tells a good story." Eleanor had to fight not to stare at him hungrily. She still couldn't believe that he was back... and might stay. If she let him... "Arabella was quite shocked by one of the books at Lauriston Street. It was in Italian, so I couldn't read it."

"I wonder which one? Ah, yes," he said, eyes lighting with humor. "I think I know."

"Aren't you going to tell me what it's about?"

He grinned. "By no means. It will give you an incentive to learn Italian."

"I think that very shabby," Eleanor protested, secretly delighted by his teasing humor.

"If you have a taste for erotica, I can provide you with some in honest English."

"What is erotica?" asked Eleanor, though she could guess from his tone.

Lord Middlethorpe came in at that moment. He looked so startled that Eleanor blushed and glared at her husband, but he was quite unrepentant.

"Really, Eleanor. Now you've shocked Francis."

Eleanor regrettably gave way to an impulse and hurled Waverley at him. He caught it, straightened the pages and put it on a table. "The spoils of war. Now what are you going to amuse yourself with?"

Eleanor pointedly ignored him. "Francis, we are being very neglectful hosts. Come and tell me what you think of the estate."

Lord Middlethorpe looked doubtfully at Nicholas, but he obeyed Eleanor's command.

Nicholas murmured, "Pistols or swords?"

"Pistols," he said. "I'm a better shot than you."

"But it's such a tedious business," Nicholas complained, "shooting people."

Eleanor and Lord Middlethorpe shared an exasperated smile. They'd get no sense out of him in this mood.

Nicholas grabbed Waverley and dropped to one knee beside the sofa. "Fair lady, must I die because you frowned?" He offered the book like a priest at an altar.

"You are quite mad," said Eleanor severely, snatching the book back while she could. "However, I will not permit Francis to kill you as long as you tell me what erotica is."

"Oh, no," said Nicholas, standing to dust off his knee and casting a wicked glance at his friend. "That is surely his honor."

"My...?" Francis colored. "You should never have mentioned anything so improper."

"Eleanor raised the subject," Nicholas said plaintively. "In fact, I suppose it is all the fault of your aunt, and you sent her to Eleanor..."

At this moment that lady entered and viewed the laughing trio with a jaundiced eye. "What games are you up to now? We had a peaceful house before you two came."

Nicholas took her hand and kissed it, fervently. "We had merely decided that you should tell Eleanor what erotica is."

She gave him a cold glance and snatched her hand back. "If ever there was a husband's duty, that is one. And I am not sure your confidence is not an insult."

Eleanor grinned. "There, Francis. If you won't fight for my honor, fight for Arabella's. After all, she is your aunt."

"Quiet, you bloodthirsty woman," Nicholas commanded. "You," he said to the older woman, "drew her attention to the Amori."

"And you had such a thing lying around for an innocent maiden lady to come upon unawares!"

"I wonder what the 'innocent maiden lady' would do if I took all my choice books and locked them away?"

"Find an ax, break the lock, and then batter your head in," said Miss Hurstman trenchantly. "Dinner is ready, and I think Eleanor should eat in her room. All this silliness will have her in a fever."

Nicholas would have carried her again, but Eleanor insisted on walking.

"I am going to go mad if I don't have some exercise," she complained. Quite deliberately she asked Francis to lend her his arm up to her room.

As they went slowly up the stairs her escort said, "You know, Eleanor, I am your servant in everything. But I hope you'll appreciate the sacrifice when Nicholas murders me."

He was astonished at the naughtiness in the grin she angled at him. "He wouldn't, for I would never forgive him."

"Feeling your oats, aren't you? I warned you once before about Nicholas. He's a clever actor and has tremendous self-control, but you can only push him so far."

Eleanor tossed her head. "He kept up a pretty act for months. He can do so now for a week or so."

Francis wisely held back any comment, but he felt as if he were sitting on a powder keg.

* * *

Miss Hurstman was meanwhile enjoying Nicholas's escort to the dining room. "You men who have a way with women scare me silly," she remarked.

"So I should," he said lightly. "I might choose to set up a flirtation with you."

She snorted. "Popinjay! Can you do it whether you care or not?"

"I spent a long time recently doing just that," he said coolly.

"It's immoral."

"Undoubtedly. It's hardly a practice of mine, either. I have discovered it has a rather unpleasant result." She thought he wasn't going to say more, but then he admitted, "All terms of endearment have gone sour on me."

There was such bleakness in his face that the older woman wished she had some comfort to offer. All she could do was stay true to form. "Now that," she said bracingly, "does give me some satisfaction."

He burst out laughing.

As the three were addressing their dinner a coach drew up and everyone went to the hall to greet Peter and Amy. They were tired, chilled, happy, and just the same as before. Except that Amy lost her smile and raised her chin when she saw her host.

"Well," she said, "we've come, Nicholas, but only because you said it was for Eleanor's sake. Is she well?"

"Very well," he said evenly, "and delivered of a daughter two days ago."

This news broke the ice a little.

"Come and eat," Nicholas said, "and then you can go up to see her."

He shook hands with Peter. This poor man was looking uncomfortable at his wife's hostility and unsure of what attitude he himself should take.

"Did you enjoy France?" asked Nicholas, for this was where the couple had spent their honeymoon. The topic set conversation on the roll for the rest of the meal.

When Amy had finished eating, Nicholas asked Miss Hurstman to take her up to see Eleanor and the baby.

"I long to see it... her, I mean. I have hopes..." Amy went bright red.

"She's increasing," said Peter with complacency, "but she hasn't got over her maidenly modesty yet."

Amy fled.

The men chatted on for a while, and then Peter expressed a desire to admire the infant too. They all trooped up the stairs to Eleanor's room.

Arabel was asleep in her cradle, bottom in the air, cheek as soft as a petal. Amy, Miss Hurstman, and Eleanor were gossiping over tea.

Peter frowned down at the baby. "It's a bit small."

Nicholas chuckled. "Another man who knows nothing of babes. How about you, Amy? Have you any notion how to go on?"

"No. I wish I could hold her, though," she said wistfully.

Competently, Nicholas gathered up the sleeping child and placed it in her nervous arms. The child hardly stirred.

"She's beautiful," said Amy softly. "But Peter's right. She's incredibly tiny."

This pleasant moment was shattered by a crash and a scream. Nicholas, first out the door, found the nursery maid sprawled in the hall wailing. She wailed even louder.

Behind him the baby woke and shrieked. Another maid came running, threw up her hands and wailed in sympathy.

Chaos reigned.

Nicholas looked round helplessly then took control.

"Amy, give the baby to Eleanor. No, Arabel won't break. Just take care of her head; the rest is rubber. Peter, can you send someone for the doctor? Unless I miss my guess, the girl's broken her leg."

He turned to the second maid. "Stop shrieking, girl, or I'll slap you. Go and help with the baby."

Arabel was howling with the pure rage of a frightened and offended newborn. Eleanor was frantically trying to calm her and probably making things worse. Amy and the maid stood by, wringing their hands.

Most of the household was on the scene, and he saw the injured nurse, now quieted to moaning, was carefully carried off to a spare bedroom. Miss Hurstman went with her to help as best she could. The other servants were then sent back to their business, and peace of a sort was restored—except for one baby squalling in unrelieved panic and rage.

"What's the matter with her?" Eleanor wailed. "She won't stop. I don't know what to do."

"Nothing serious is the matter," Nicholas said firmly. "Try to calm down. If you go on this way it'll dry your milk." He gave her a hug, but the baby kept on squawling.

Who could ignore that piercing sound?

He grabbed the baby and held her against his shoulder, talking softly into her ear as he walked about. Gradually the shrieking subsided to little hiccups of distress. Then it started up again, blessedly at lower volume.

"I think she's realized she's wet and hungry," Nicholas said. "I don't know which is most urgent." He turned to the gaping maid. "Can you change her?"

"Yes, sir," she said tearfully, bobbing an anxious curtsy. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't want to do anything without permission, sir."

"Yes, it's all right," he soothed. "Just do the necessary and then bring the baby to my wife."

He shook his head and smiled at Amy, who was looking quite as astonished as the maid. He turned as Francis came back into the nursery. "Why don't you take Amy downstairs and entertain her and Peter for me?"

"Are you sure Arabel's all right?" Eleanor demanded.

"Yes. The girl will bring her in a minute."

"I feel so stupid! Why wouldn't she quiet for me? I've let the nursery maid do everything except feed and cuddle her." She glared at him resentfully. "How is it you know what to do?"

"It's part of my story," he said, but added no more. "I'd better go down and see to our guests. I'll come back later, if I may."

"Am I supposed to say you can't?" Eleanor snapped. "I wish you would stop being so damned reasonable!" To her horror, she broke into tears.

After a moment he came and put comforting arms around her. "Eleanor, I'm just doing my best."