Lady Vixen (53 page)

Lord
Saxon wasted little time in going around to Ryder Street to see for himself how
his grandson was. Robert, intent upon excusing himself, had brought his father
the news, but after a blistering explosion between them no one had any doubt
that Lord Saxon blamed his son for the accident.

Christopher
was resting fretfully in bed when his grandfather arrived. He was pale from the
loss of blood and his eyes looked heavy and feverish, but seeing the concern in
his grandfather's face, Christopher roused himself and sent the other man a
lazy smile.

"What
a silly thing to have happened!" he said with just the right note of
ruefulness. "I don't know which of us felt more the fool—Robert for not
realizing the button had slipped off his foil or myself for not being more
nimble."

The
light, careless words calmed the fear in his grandfather's breast as they had
been meant to. The last thing Christopher wanted was for Simon to know of
Robert's deliberate attack on him. The knowledge would only distress the older
man, and so he determinedly set about making certain that Simon did believe it
had been a careless accident. Robert he would settle with at a later date.

Regina,
while sparing a thought for Christopher's wound, was almost delighted with the
situation. With today's contretemps any chance of Robert asking for Nicole's
hand was blasted away. Simon would never countenance the suit now! And surely
Nicole's tender heart would be wrenched every time she thought of poor
Christopher lying on his bed of pain?

But
setting her lips in a straight, uncompromising line, she decided thoughtfully
that it wasn't enough to hope that Christopher's illness would touch Nicole.
She, Regina, must see to it that Robert was no longer allowed to run tamely
about, free to court Nicole whenever he pleased.

It
wasn't until Thursday morning, two days later, that the fact that she and
Robert were to have no future private conversations was brought home rather
firmly to Nicole. Robert often took her riding in the park, and at breakfast
she said idly, "I'm so glad today is going to be delightful. I shall enjoy
riding with Robert in the park today."

But
Nicole was somewhat disconcerted when Regina said coolly, "I'm afraid you
will not be riding in the park or anywhere else in Robert's company for some
time to come."

"I
beg your pardon?" Nicole asked blankly. She knew Regina had been
displeased with her conduct that night in Vauxhall Gardens, but after receiving
a thundering scold and having suffered Regina's strictures on her unladylike
principles for the last two days, she had thought the unpleasantness was behind
her.

Regina,
her eyes snapping impatiently, said bluntly, "You both have shown a
deplorable lack of manners, and obviously you are not to be trusted. We have
decided it best if you see less of my nephew."

Nicole's
eyes narrowed and the soft mouth went hard. "You are forbidding me to see
him?" she asked in an ominous tone.

"Oh,
no, my dear!" rushed in Mrs. Eggleston gently. "Do not think so! It
is just that his pursuit of you is most marked, and we feel you should not let
him take up so much of your time. It is not seemly, you know."

Furious,
and seething with rebellion and resentment, Nicole finished her meal; the toast
tasted like sand and the tea like bilge water. If she had felt restricted
before, this morning's conversation had rather forcibly pointed out how very
little freedom a young woman of her station was allowed. Her fingers trembled
with suppressed temper as she set down her cup with a decided snap. Hiding her
anger, she asked woodenly, "Then if I am not to ride in the park, what am
I to do?"

Mrs.
Eggleston smiled at her kindly. "Come now, my dear, have you forgotten
that Lord Lindley mentioned he would come to call this morning?"

Nicole
pulled an unladylike face. She had forgotten, and she wasn't so certain that
she wanted to encourage Lord Lindley's very definite interest in her. But
shortly, when Lord Lindley and an acquaintance were ushered into the morning
room, there was no hint of reservation as she greeted the two young men very
prettily. Mrs. Eggleston, watching fondly, beamed at her, and Nicole could have
stamped her foot with temper.

Usually
Lord Lindley was a shy young man, but this morning he was full of enthusiasm, and
it was all about the retiring gentlemen who had accompanied him. Fairly
burbling, Lord Lindley said, "I do hope you forgive me for bringing
Jennings-Smythe with me. But he has just returned from America and I am doing
my best to make him feel at home in London. He is by way of being a hero you
know." At Nicole's almost-bored look of inquiry, he continued, "It is
true! Why just last year, a notorious privateer, a Captain Saber, attacked his
ship and captured him. It was only by Jennings-Smythe's ingenuity that he was
recently able to escape."

Hiding
the trepidation and sheer fear that coursed through her body, Nicole sent the
reticent young man at Lord Lindley's side a faint smile. Hoping desperately she
had misheard Lord Lindley, she asked stupidly, "Is that true? Did this man
capture you?"

Jennings-Smythe
smiled eagerly, "Oh, yes, Captain Saber of
La Belle Garce
very
nearly sank my ship and we were forced to surrender. I was taken with all the
others to some squalid little island where eventually I managed to escape. It
wasn't a prison I escaped from, merely some smuggler's den."

"Is
that so?" Nicole returned with a blank smile. More frightened than she
cared to admit, she asked carelessly, "Did you see him, this Captain
Saber?"

Jennings-Smythe
frowned, looking somewhat pompous. "Well, only once, but I can assure you
I would recognize him again. He is not a man one forgets."

Smiling
sickly, Nicole made some comment and was inordinately thankful when Regina and
Mrs. Eggleston joined in the conversation, both ladies making much of
Jennings-Smythe.

When
she could at last escape, Nicole hurried to her rooms—her one thought that she
must warn Christopher. Wary of putting too much in writing, she decided it
would be best to tell Christopher in person. Consequently the note she bribed
Mauer to have delivered to his rooms stated only that she must see him at once!

She
had debated over the signature, and fearful that Christopher might not realize
the urgency and importance of her summons, she signed it simply Nick, hoping he
would understand that her request had something to do with Captain Saber.

It
was only then that she realized with a jolt that was half elation and half fear
that if Jennings-Smythe had escaped Grand Terre, Allen might have too! For the
first time she felt a wave of guilty contrition—she had been so caught up in
Christopher, in London, that she had given Allen little thought. That Allen
might be free filled her with joy, that he might be in England was an entirely
different matter.

Oh,
Allen, forgive me, she thought with anguish, but please,
please
be safe
and free somewhere else—anywhere but here in London where you would recognize
Christopher!

Nervous
and restless, she paced her rooms anxiously waiting for his reply. When it came
she was both limp with relief and understandably vexed. Mr. Saxon, she was
informed, was with his manservant in Sussex for an indefinite period of time.

Christopher's
decision to drive to Sussex had not come to him lightly. It was only in London
that he had any hope of discovering any useful information, but London was not
the best place in which to convalesce.

He
had a lively horror of his great-aunt and Mrs. Eggleston descending upon him
with possets, as well as having to suffer his concerned grandfather's calls
nearly every day. His friends, he thought crossly, were more likely to cause a
setback in his recovery than to speed it up. Determined to cheer him, they had
crowded into his rooms, drunk his brandy, laughed and talked and finally passed
out drunk as owls on his bedroom floor. No, London definitely was not the place
for someone who needed several days of quiet and rest.

More
importantly he had decided he had been chasing after a will-o'-the-wisp. It had
been a half-mad dream of his and Jason's to think he could discover anything of
importance. He had known that it was not likely to be successful before he had
even consented to the improbable scheme, but he had been hopeful that somehow,
someway, with a little luck he might be able to overcome the nearly insurmountable
odds. Now even hope was gone, and he had come to the bleak conclusion that he
had wasted enough time in England. There were things he could be doing in New
Orleans, that would accomplish more than he could in England. It was a bitter
decision, but his mind was made up, and if he were to sail back to New Orleans,
he would first have to establish a point from which to depart—hence Sussex.

Christopher's
wound gave him an excellent excuse to leave the city, and no one would think it
strange that he wanted a few days on the coast for peace and quiet. He used the
time to good purpose, despite the pain and discomfort of his arm, letting an
isolated cottage on the beach.

He
decided that once his arm had healed he would try for one last time to discover
the British plans for New Orleans. He leased the cottage until the first of
October, as September thirtieth was one of the dates he and Jason had decided
upon for a rendezvous with the privateer. If he remained unsuccessful by that
date, he would signal the ship and leave empty-handed, except for what rumor
and current news he had.

Feeling
at last that he was taking charge, he stabled his horses and carriage at the
local inn -and actually did relax and rest. The time he and Higgins spent at
the cottage passed swiftly; Christopher grew stronger with each passing hour.
The days were spent idly exploring the coast; he even risked swimming in the
cold ocean water, exercising his wounded arm gently; he rested afternoons on
the rocky outcroppings near the shingle and evenings slept soundly after a day
of fresh, invigorating sea air. The only jarring note came one day when he
discovered, a few miles down the coast from his cottage, a handsome residence
that he recognized instantly as the house Robert let while he stayed in
Brighton.

He
had forgotten that fact, and the house brought back memories of his youth, when
with his grandfather he had come to Brighton in the late summer and had often
visited with Robert's wife and children at that same house. How strange that he
had forgotten it. But then he pushed it to the back of his mind, wanting no
thought of Robert to disturb the peace he had found.

Christopher
had much time for quiet reflection. Lying on the sand, his shoulders propped
against the cliffs that faced the sea, the wind ruffling the dark hair, he
would watch the ever-changing ocean by the hour, sometimes his thoughts far
away, drifting in lazy rhythm like the waves that pounded on the shore. He had
no deep regrets for anything he had done so far in his life, he discovered with
surprise. Oh, perhaps he wished he hadn't been such a silly young ass over
Annabelle or that he had handled Nicole more gently, but even those were no
more than merely passing quirks. His dislike of the role he was playing in
England he dismissed cynically; if it had been truly distasteful to him, he
simply wouldn't have done it, he told himself.

His
thoughts did turn briefly to Nicole, but he was, despite everything, a ruthless
young man, and he had locked her away in the deepest recesses of his mind. She
should be grateful to me, he decided with sardonic amusement; I gave her
adventure and excitement enough to last the rest of her life. When she's
married to some dull and worthy gentleman, surrounded by a pack of brats, she'll
probably remember me with fond nostalgia. Thinking of that, he gave a sudden
harsh shout of mirthless laughter, frightening away a curious gull. And what
did it matter? In little more than a month he would be sailing for home, and
Nicole, well, Nicole would probably be deciding on which of her many suitors to
bestow her hand and lissome body.

An
unexpected vision of that supple body rose before his eyes, and with sheer fury
he felt his body's instant response. Cursing, he leaped to his feet, stripped,
and threw himself into the sea. The water was icy and numbing and his wounded
arm made vigorous swimming awkward, but grimly he propelled himself through the
water until common sense made him swim toward shore. He walked unconcernedly to
where he had been lying and flung himself down on a worn blanket. The plunge in
the sea had effectively banished Nicole from his thoughts, and now as he sat
once more staring out to sea, his mind dwelt on Simon.

Having
decided to leave in September, he wondered with real distress how he was going
to tell his grandfather. He could not sail out to sea without a word, slinking
away like a dog in the night.

He
would have liked to banish the idea of the coming departure just as he had his
unwelcome thoughts of Nicole, but this was something that had to be faced.
Displeased by the trend of his musings, impatiently he threw a pebble into the
foaming surf and wished he could dispose of his troubles as easily.

He
could not say casually, "I've had a nice visit with you, grandfather, but
now I must return to New Orleans." Hardly! No solution presented itself,
and after a while, frustrated and growing angry, he gave it up—-when the time
came he would think of something—he had to!