Lady Vixen (58 page)

Deciding
she had been gone long enough from Cavendish Square, she turned and was about
to tell Galena that they would be going home now, when Robert's voice stopped
her.

"By
all that's holy! Nicole!" There was no mistaking the pleasure, nor the
delight in his tone, and with a smile Nicole looked up at him as he expertly
guided his gig to her side.

"Hello,
Robert. How are you this morning?" Nicole returned easily, aware that this
was the first time they had met without Regina's watchful eye on them since the
night he had kissed her.

Robert
was very conscious of it too, and without hesitation he said, "Come for a
ride with me? You can have your servant meet us at the south gate. And while my
aunt may not approve of
my
escort, she can find nothing improper in a
ride through Hyde Park."

Nicole
agreed readily, a surge of rebellion against Regina and Lord Saxon making her
determined to exert her own independence. Seated beside Robert a moment later,
she laughed, "You know, we shall both be without honor as far as Lady
Darby is concerned."

A
warm light was in his strange sea-colored eyes, and Robert retorted, "And
what do we care? It is a beautiful day and we are together—that is all that
matters."

There
was a time such frankness would have pleased Nicole, but not this morning, not
knowing she could never return his affections. Suddenly sensible that riding
with Robert might not have been the wisest move, especially since she might
have to repulse his advances, she wished she had not accepted so eagerly his
invitation. A slight note of reserve in her words, she replied, "Yes, it
is indeed a lovely day and it was very kind of you to offer me a ride."

Robert
caught the note of reticence in her voice and his first flush of exultation
vanished. Frowning, he asked bluntly, "Would you rather
not
ride
with me?"

Nicole
swallowed uncomfortably, very conscious that in the past she had led Robert to
believe she did not find his attentions disagreeable. And now she was faced
with the unpleasant proposition of trying to make him understand that while she
liked him and enjoyed his company, he would never mean any more to her than
just a friend.

Robert
was quick to sense her constraint, but putting it down to another reason,
before she could compose a reply, he asked harshly, "Is it true then? You
are to marry Christopher?"

Nicole's
complexion went white and her eyes were two huge topaz jewels in her face as
she whispered, "Marry Christopher?"

Looking
ahead at his horse's ears, he said savagely, "Oh, yes, haven't they
informed you yet? My dear aunt made certain I knew, that night at Vauxhall
Gardens!"

For
several seconds Nicole was speechless, divided between a wave of blind fury and
a surge of exquisite hope. Fury won out, unfortunately, and grasping Robert's
arm tightly, her face stormy with temper, she demanded, "What are you
talking about? Christopher is the last man I would marry! How dare they say
that I will wed him! I know nothing—no one has said a word to me!"

Robert
shot her a calculating look, his eyes lingering on the angrily heaving bosom
and the wrathful slant to the full mouth. Relaxing slightly, eminently pleased
and reassured by her reaction, he drawled, "So it would appear." His
gaze sharpening with curiosity, he asked, "You had no inkling? No hint
that my aunt and, I must assume, my father had already worked out a marriage
agreement with Christopher?"

Her
jaw tensing, Nicole snapped, "Absolutely not! Why they must be insane to
think that I would . . . And Christopher, why he barely tolerates the sight of
me!"

"Oh,
I wouldn't say that," Robert muttered dryly. "Last night at Almack's
he seemed to do more than tolerate you!"

Nicole
dismissed his statement with a vehement shake of her head. "Christopher is
capable of pretending whatever emotion he feels is necessary at the moment.
Don't
you
be fooled by him!"

"Very
well, my dear. But what are you going to do? Regina says the marriage is all
arranged."

"We'll
just see about that!" Nicole spat furiously. "Take me to Galena. I
intend to discover what has been going on behind my back immediately! Your aunt
and your father will explain to me precisely what they have planned, and I
shall enjoy informing them that they can just
un
plan it!"

Robert
shrugged his shoulders and complied without further comment. He didn't envy
Regina and Simon the coming interview, and some of the tight ball of rage that
had been his companion these past weeks lessened. Nicole had been too angry,
too surprised not to be telling the truth. Obviously she had known nothing of
what Regina had claimed, and just as obviously, she wanted no part of marriage
with his nephew. Feeling more sanguine than he had in weeks, he watched with
satisfaction as she and Galena set off in the direction of Cavendish Square.

Nicole
literally marched along the street, so angry she paid no attention to Galena's
plaintive pleas for her to slow down. Angrier than she could ever recall being
in her life, she swept up the stone steps of the house, and after flashing
Twickham a fiery glance of sheer fury, she snapped, "Where is Lord Saxon?
I wish to see him at once!"

Slightly
taken aback by this glittering-eyed young virago, Twickham fumbled for a reply
and finally said, "Lord Saxon has taken Mrs. Eggleston to meet with the
Bishop." And unable to contain himself, his lofty, haughty exterior
melting instantly, he beamed, "Miss, they are to be married—on
Sunday!"

For
a moment Nicole didn't quite believe him; then some of her anger fading before
the rush of delight that spread through her body, she repeated in a stupefied
tone, "Lord Saxon is marrying Mrs. Eggleston?"

Nodding
vigorously, Twickham fairly burbled, "Oh, yes, miss! It is so romantic! He
proposed to her not more than an hour ago and she accepted. I can tell you,
that I couldn't be more pleased." Then hastily recalling himself, he said
in a more stilted voice, "They have gone to see about a special license
and Lady Darby is at the engraver's hoping to find a suitable announcement to
send to their many friends." Then forgetting himself again, he said
earnestly, "It will be a small wedding, you know. There is absolutely no
time to prepare for more than just a few friends and relatives."

Slightly
dumbfounded, Nicole nodded in unspoken agreement and like one in a trance
slowly walked up the stairs to her rooms. Mrs. Eggleston and Lord Saxon
married! It came as no surprise and yet in another way she was almost numb with
astonishment. To think of someone of their age falling in love and marrying was
somewhat difficult, but the more she considered the idea the more logical it
became. What could be more reasonable than Lord Saxon wishing to claim his
long-lost love as his bride? What did age have to do with love? At least their
future loomed bright and beckoning before them, she thought with a small sigh,
and with an angry start she remembered why she had come home in such a furious
rush.

Momentarily
thwarted from venting her furious objections about marriage to Christopher by
their absence, she paced her room. How dare they! And Christopher! Just wait
until she saw him! Just wait! Suddenly, her eyes narrowing, she stopped her
indignant pacing. Lord Saxon and Lady Darby might be out of her reach at the
moment, but by heaven, Christopher wasn't!

Her
mind made up in an instant, she rang once again for her cloak, and not stopping
to consider the wisdom of her actions, she ignored Twickham's startled protest
and flew out the front door.

With
her chin set stubbornly, and hot, angry, irrational thoughts clouding her
brain, she set out for Christopher's lodgings on Ryder Street with a
belligerent stride. The perfidy of which he was capable enraged her beyond
belief. To think that while treating her to his sneering comments, and after
ignoring her for months and acting as if she were some money-grubbing little
tart, he should have agreed to marry her was like tinder to flame, and Nicole
was in a rage by the time she reached Ryder Street.

It
was a flabbergasted Higgins who opened the door and admitted her into
Christopher's rooms.

"Why,
Miss Nicole, whatever are you doing here? You should not be here! Especially
unescorted—is no one with you? No maid? No servant?"

Nicole
threw down her reticule on a large overstuffed leather chair. "I want to
see Christopher! And I want to see him now! What I have to say to him is
private, and I am sick and tired of being escorted everywhere I go!" Her
eyes kindling with further injustice, she continued heatedly, "I am
perfectly capable of finding my way about the city, as you well know! Now,
where is Christopher?"

Quite
truthfully Higgins answered, "I have no idea. He left this morning to call
upon his grandfather, and from there he gave no indication where he would be
going. He did say not to have dinner prepared for him, so I do not expect him
back until late this evening."

Balked,
but still furious, she faced Higgins, and in a voice that quivered with outrage
she demanded, "What do you know about this absurd notion that Christopher
is to marry me?"

Higgins's
rather round eyes went even rounder, his face wore an expression of the utmost
astonishment, and he gaped at her. "You and Christopher are to
marry?" he finally asked, a note of undisguised pleasure in his tone.

Nicole
flashed him a look filled with scorn. "Absolutely not! But Robert Saxon
told me this morning that a marriage agreement between Christopher and I had
already been settled, and I mean to make it clear that under no circumstances
would I consent to such a match!"

Dimly,
somewhere beyond her flaming temper, Nicole was aware she was guilty of cutting
off her nose to spite her face, but at the moment she was in the grip of such
scarlet, unthinking rage that it mattered little to her.

"Well?
Do you know anything?" she snapped at the staggered Higgins.

Higgins
rapidly recovered himself, and at the mention of Robert's name a displeased
frown wrinkled his forehead. "Robert Saxon told you this tale?"

And
Nicole, forgetting that she was Miss Nicole Ashford, the heiress, and that
Higgins was nothing more than a valet, found herself answering automatically,
"Yes. I met him this morning by accident in Hyde Park, and he told me that
Lady Darby had informed him some time ago that the match was all settled, that
Lord Saxon had given his permission."

Higgins
cast her a look of mingled disappointment and disgust. "And you believed
him?" he inquired caustically.

A
flicker of doubt in her eyes, the first hint of uncertainty in her voice,
Nicole replied, "Why shouldn't I? Why would he lie about something like
that? He is Christopher's uncle you know, not some gossipy scoundrel!"

Higgins
eyed her thoughtfully, suddenly very pleased at the way events were turning
out. For a moment he had been inclined to believe that Christopher had not
confided in him about his marital arrangements, but the instant Robert's name
had entered the conversation, he knew otherwise. He decided in that moment that
it was time he enlightened Nick about several things. Telling her about her
mother was going to be a bit difficult, but it had to be done. After all, he
reminded himself silently, Annabelle had been dead now for about seven years,
and Nick had only been a child when she had lost her mother, so time should
have blunted her emotions somewhat.

Adopting
the authoritative manner of the first mate aboard
La Belle Garce,
Higgins
ordered Nicole to sit down and to stop prowling about the room like a
half-scalded cat. After a silent contest of wills, with something resembling a
snort, Nicole sat down, her body rigid against the comfortable padding of the
small sofa in Christopher's sitting room. With the light of battle still
flaming in the topaz eyes, she said stiffly, "Why should I disbelieve
Robert Saxon? He has been all that is kindness to me—something that I can't say
about Christopher!"

Higgins
sat opposite her, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, the elbows at right
angles to his wiry frame. Leaning forward, a stern glint in the usually merry
brown eyes, he started almost gently, "Now I'm going to tell you something
I don't think you know. You're not going to like it, and I can't say as I'll
blame you. It happened a long time ago, and maybe once you know about it you
won't be so eager to speak so highly of Robert Saxon. Or, I might add, think so
badly of Christopher."

Nicole
couldn't help looking skeptical, yet respect for the little man across from her
kept her silent. She trusted Higgins. He had never lied to her, had always
treated her fairly and justly. And so she waited for what Higgins would tell
her, positive he would tell her no lies, and yet when he began, when he first
mentioned her mother, her mother and Robert, she recoiled and fought against
his unemotional declaration that her mother and the man she herself had
considered marrying had been adulterous lovers. It left an ugly burning taste
in her mouth, but after a grim painful struggle within herself she accepted
Higgins's word.

She
had to. It explained the suddenness and single-mindedness of Robert's pursuit,
that queer glitter that frequently entered the sea-green eyes, and the
intensity of that passionate declaration at Vauxhall Gardens. Feeling slightly
sick to know she must have been a substitute for the illicit desire he had held
for her mother, she fixed her eyes unhappily on Higgins's sympathetic face. In
a tight little voice she said, "Go on. I suppose it gets worse?"