Lady Vixen (64 page)

Feeling
as if she were being sent away like a bothersome child, Nicole bristled and the
topaz eyes shimmered angrily. "Don't order me about!" she said
between gritted teeth. "If you will remember,
that
is precisely
what I suggested a moment ago!"

"So
it is. Why don't you do it then? Or is it that I have mistaken the situation?
That this is actually a lovers' quarrel?" he purred menacingly, and it
dawned on Nicole that despite his careless manner, he was furious. And
dangerous. With a shudder of foreboding she saw the look he sent Edward, and
she flew across the room to clutch Christopher's arm. Almost dragging him, she
forced him to follow her outside. A step away from the pavilion she said in a
fierce undertone, "My cousin is annoying, but he did me no harm! I've
grown up with him, Christopher, and I can handle him. What you saw in there is
typical of how all our arguments ended as children." Then her face
pensive, she added honestly, "Although Edward usually found some way to
pay me back."

Examining
his nails in the silver light, Christopher asked expressionlessly, "Shall
I kill him for you?"

Startled,
Nicole looked into his face. "Would you?" she asked without thinking,
and her mouth growing dry, she read her answer in the gold tiger's eyes.
Swallowing with difficulty, she said, "I don't want him hurt, Christopher.
He is foolish, I can barely stand him, but don't harm him."

His
gaze rested coolly on her face as he said tightly, "You realize that if he
persists in his offer to marry you, if he goes to Simon with the tale of
tonight, you may very well find yourself shackled to him? My God!" he burst
out angrily. "If anyone else had stumbled across that little scene you
would be before Simon at this moment, a ruined woman, and there would be no
choice but to give you to Edward!"

Shaken
by the unexpected possibility, Nicole looked away from the naked anger in his
face. "I hadn't thought of that," she mumbled, studying her satin
slippers. "But no one else
did
find us," she said at last,
looking again at Christopher. Beseechingly, she laid a hand on his arm.
"Let me go to the house and tell Simon myself. And if you were to help
Edward—"

"Simon
may believe you, but how are you going to keep your cousin's mouth shut? How
are you going to make certain you are not the conversation in every club along
Pall Mall? That you are not shunned and refused to be acknowledged by polite
society?" Christopher demanded angrily. Grasping Nicole's shoulders, he
shook her. "Don't you realize he can ruin you?"

"What
do you care?" she shot back defensively, confused by his concern and giddy
with the nearness of his hard, warm body.

Christopher
slanted her a derisive glance, and setting her from him, he bit out savagely,
"God knows!" Running a hand through the thick black hair, he
muttered, "Go to the house, and don't say a word to anyone. Leave Edward
to me—and take that look off your face, I'm not going to hurt him. Just scare
the sweet hell out of him!"

Nicole
wasted no further time in conversation and glided like a wraith into the
darkness. His face blank, Christopher watched until she disappeared, and then
with a swift movement he turned and stepped back inside the pavilion.

Edward
had recovered a certain amount of his composure and was standing warily by one
of the tables when Christopher reentered. As soon as Christopher came in, he
babbled, "I know it was wrong, but, Saxon, I love her! I mean to marry
her! I shall do the honorable thing by her, believe me!"

The
gold eyes were mere slits in the dark, dangerous face. Christopher snarled
softly, "You will
not,
my friend, not if you want to live! You will
leave and you will say absolutely nothing about what transpired here tonight.
For some reason your cousin wishes to protect you, but let me tell you this, if
it weren't for Nicole, you'd be a dead man! Now get out of my sight and keep
your mouth shut! And, Markham, if I hear one whisper, one hint, one word of
what went on tonight, I will kill you, make no mistake of that! I may anyway,
so stay away from me!"

Bravery
not being one of his strong points, Edward wilted and scuttled like a
frightened rabbit from the pavilion, overwhelmingly thankful to escape with his
life, not caring at the moment if he had lost in his attempt to marry the
heiress.

Unfortunately
that mood did not stay with him, and by the time he had reached the safety of
his rooms and had drunk several glasses of brandy, he had convinced himself
that Nicole's interference on his behalf had been because she did, in fact,
hide a
tendre
for him, and that Christopher's ugly threats had been just
that—threats. Why, he couldn't hurt me, Edward thought scornfully, absently caressing
the sword cane that was ordinarily by his side but which he had not worn today
because dress had been more formal than usual. Ah, my beauty, he cooed to
himself, if you had been with me tonight, Saxon would not have been so arrogant
and brave. We would have seen to that! Having convinced himself that
Christopher Saxon was an overbearing bully whom he could take care of anytime
he choose, and that his suit with Nicole was prospering, Edward planned to go
on just as if nothing had happened.

Christopher
remained at the pavilion for several minutes after Edward had disappeared,
struggling with a primitive urge to follow him and break every bone in his
body. How dare he lay a hand on her, he thought furiously. And yet when he
remembered how ludicrous Edward had looked bent over double, and how fierce and
ready to defend her honor Nicole had been, a quiver of amusement shook him.
Vixen! Edward probably would have suffered less at his hands than hers! He
would only have killed him, while Nicole would have maimed him for life!
Chuckling to himself, Christopher leaned carelessly against the doorjamb of the
pavilion and stared down the path that Edward had used to make good his escape.

As
fate would have it, Robert and Lord Lindley's friend Lieutenant Jennings-Smythe,
having escaped to smoke a cigar, were wandering toward the pavilion by one of
the several paths that ended there, and most disastrously Christopher was
unaware of their approach. His profile was presented to them; with the lower
half of his face in shadows and the moon intensifying the blackness of his
hair, highlighting the heavy eyebrows and the flaring nostrils, the resemblance
to Captain Saber was unmistakable.

Christopher
didn't hear their approach, lost as he was in his own thoughts, and Jennings-Smythe
had several seconds of unobstructed viewing of his lean profile.
Jennings-Smythe could not believe his eyes and was so startled he blurted,
"Captain Saber! Your nephew is a damned American privateer!"

Christopher,
hearing voices, but just far enough away not to understand what was being said,
looked in their direction and smothered a curse of exasperation. It had been to
avoid Jennings-Smythe that he had been in the gardens in the first place, well
aware that sooner or later, he might recognize him. So far Christopher had been
adept at evading face-to-face confrontations and generally managed to keep a
room full of people between them. It appeared, though, that his luck had just
run out. Straightening, he lounged away from the pavilion and leisurely
strolled up to them as they stood in the center of the path.

"Taking
the night air?" he inquired lightly. Suddenly uncertain when he looked at
Christopher's aristocratic features, Jennings-Smythe mumbled some trite remark.

And
Christopher wasted little time in removing himself. He returned a polite
comment and then with deceptive indolence began to walk to the house.

Frowning,
he slipped into a small deserted room in the back of the house. He would have
to work out an alternative plan just in case Jennings-Smythe did recognize him,
he decided thoughtfully. As long as someone, either he or Higgins, was there to
meet the ship at the end of September and was able to get that memorandum to
Jason in New Orleans, that was the important thing. If he were arrested,
Higgins would have to take it to America. And if he, Christopher, weren't
clever or adroit enough to convince everyone that Jennings-Smythe was entirely
mistaken, well, then he would deserve to hang, he told himself cynically, never
doubting his own ability to avert disaster. His thinking was correct as far as
it went, but what he hadn't taken into consideration was the fact that
Jennings-Smythe had inadvertently betrayed him to Robert.

Robert
had watched that scene with undisguised interest, certain at last that he had
stumbled across something that would bring about Christopher's ultimate
downfall. He remained silent until Christopher had disappeared, and then
looking at Jennings-Smythe, he asked idly, "You say my nephew is a
privateer? This Captain Saber? Why didn't you say something to him?"

The
thought that Captain Saber and Baron Saxon's grandson could possibly be the
same man was so preposterous that Jennings-Smythe was feeling extremely silly,
and he said apologetically, "I must have been mistaken and I feel a
perfect fool. It was just a trick of the light, you know, for now that I've
seen him full face, I realize that there is nothing more than a superficial
resemblance."

If
it had been anyone but Robert Saxon, Jennings-Smythe's explanation would have
sufficed, but Robert was hungry for anything that would discredit Christopher,
even a lie. In his own rooms that night Robert reviewed what he had learned,
and for the first time in months he felt a flash of triumph.

He
would have preferred to begin investigating the truth of what Jennings-Smythe
had said immediately, but everything was already arranged for the removal to
Brighton, and there was not enough time in the morning to pay a visit to the
Admiralty Office—not if he wished to escort Nicole and his aunt to Brighton.
Certainly he had no intention of allowing Edward to be their sole protector for
the journey, not when it was glaringly apparent that Edward had covetous eyes
for Nicole!

Robert
had waited this long for his revenge, and he was willing to wait just a little
longer—primarily because at this particular moment it was more important to
Robert to retrieve himself with Nicole—to discover what had gone wrong between
them, to have her smile warmly at him once again.
That
was much more
imperative than for him to remain in London ferreting out possibly
discreditable information about his nephew. There would be time for that! Soon
enough it would be worth his while to pay a call at the Admiralty Office and
discover what was known about this Captain Saber!

"Le coeur a
ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point."

The Heart has it
reasons that reason knows nothing of.

—French Proverb

Brighton
was not a happy place for Nicole. It had been here that her parents and brother
had drowned, and when she and Regina had driven past the handsome Ashford manor
one day, she couldn't suppress the shudder of pain that shook her as she
remembered that day. Regina had suggested she might like to wander through the
house to see if the Markhams had done any alterations or damages during their
guardianship, but she shook her head violently. She didn't think she could bear
to go through that house, especially not to step out onto that balcony where
she had sat that terrible day watching wide-eyed with terror as the gleaming
white sloop had plunged into the sea.

Time
had deadened her pain, but she could not help associating Brighton with
unhappiness. She missed the new Lady Saxon dreadfully, although Regina was
kindness itself, evidently having forgiven her the lapse with Robert. But
Regina was no substitute for Lady Saxon's sweet, understanding manner nor Lord
Saxon's sarcastic gruffness, and the house seemed dull and empty without the
newlyweds.

There
were certain advantages to Brighton, she admitted to herself. For one thing,
she could hear the crash of the ocean just beyond the seawall, and with Galena
in attendance Nicole found a certain solace in walking along the edge of the
ocean, the sea breeze ruffling her hair and kissing her pale cheeks with color.
There was a more relaxed air in Brighton, despite all the members of the
ton
from London who crowded into the small city this time of year, and Nicole
found herself with somewhat more freedom and with fewer restrictions. Perhaps,
she thought wryly, I have at last grown used to this life and now will fade
into a vapid existence, no longer straining against the restraints of polite
society.

As
she sat in her room one mid-September afternoon, her mind wandered to Robert
and the rather strange situation that existed between them. She tolerated his company
much as she did Edward's but her cool manner seemed in no way to disturb Robert
as it did Edward. Edward continued his pursuit of her, but he was more inclined
to reveal his true character these days, having finally realized that his
ardent display the night of the wedding had done him no good, and that Nicole
was not a bit taken in by his loverlike air. Consequently whenever Nicole
refused his invitations to dance, or sought the company of others rather than
converse with him privately, he tended to pout and show his displeasure, but
with Robert it was an entirely different matter.

Robert
took all of her snubs with good grace, smiling quizzically at her, his eyes
gently asking why she had changed toward him. But she could not tell him that
she no longer trusted him, or that she could never forget that he had been her
mother's lover and, worse, that he had so brutally betrayed Christopher. Robert
never pressed her, but like Edward he never abandoned his more refined and
disarming wooing.