Lord Nick's Folly (13 page)

He took a long swallow of tea, and Nympha did as well to ease the sudden dryness in her throat.

"Perhaps we should be on our way. I promised to show you a bit of Sherwood Forest. Do you want to pause on the way home, or go tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow Mrs. Rankin is to come. If there is something to see, we had best do it on our way home."

How odd it seemed to call Coxmoor Hall home, yet it would be if she inherited and married a man who would live with her there. She would make a few alterations.

He rose. "You will want to change the wall hangings, I am persuaded. Red is not a good color for you. I think blue would do well there." It was as though he could read her mind. Perhaps it was a logical extension of their conversation. But she found it disconcerting to realize he could sense into her thoughts like that. She left the table with her mind in a whirl.

Since he had handed out all the sketches with scant information returned. Nick decided they might as well return to Coxmoor Hall. He informed Thursby of his intention to pause in the forest. He wished to show Miss Herbert the major oak beneath which it was thought that Robin Hood met with his merry men.

They set off at a good clip. Nick eased back on the rear-facing seat, able to study his passenger without any demur. She remained silent, apparently absorbed in her thoughts.

"Can they be purchased for a penny?" He was surprised to realize that he wanted her to focus on him. He had never considered himself to be a vain creature, but the idea of an appealing young woman so able to ignore him stung.

Startled, she shifted her attention to him. "I scarce think they are worth that much. I was mulling over what I recalled of the Robin Hood legend. Do you suppose he really lived, that he really fought as they say, and that he finally married his Marian?"

"You would like to believe in a happy ending?" He crossed one leg over the other while continuing to observe Nympha closely. She was an entrancing young woman, and why had he not seen it before?

"I think most unmarried young women like to believe such is possible." She folded her hands in her lap, but he got an impression that she wished to do something else. He'd like to know what.

"What happens when you gain your inheritance?"

"We have already discussed that, my lord. Who can say what the future holds for certain? My aunt may live many more years, and I could meet with an accident."

"Be careful as to your choice of husband and you should have no problem." What in the world possessed him to offer her advice that would be better coming from her mother? Even her father had that privilege. Why should she pay the slightest attention to what he, Lord Nicholas Stanhope, had to say?

"As I said before, perhaps I may trot him past you for approval." She dropped her gaze to where her hands folded demurely in her lap, but not before Nick spotted the teasing glimmer in her delightful blue eyes.

Her eyes truly were a remarkable blue. He had seen lapis lazuli that color, a rich tone with flecks of gold in their depths. He wondered if she had ever worn the gem. It was not a highly valued stone such as a diamond, but not common, either. Of a sudden he had a wish to present her with a necklace of lapis, with ear bobs to match. They would become her well, and with perhaps a gown of white and blue to show off her blond tresses.

He must be losing his mind. He did not go about mentally dressing a young woman. More than often it was the opposite!

The coach rolled to a halt. Nick could see a thickly wooded area, with oaks, beeches, and silver birches in abundance. The woods, with patches of ferns here and there, was almost enough to make him a believer in the legend.

A path wound through the woods. Nick decided to let Nympha walk for a ways. It certainly ought to put her in the mood for her masquerade and costume.

He stepped from the coach, turning about to face the door. "Come, I'll help you." He worried that she was not totally recovered from that thump on her head.

When she appeared—her scarlet cloak flaring about her slim form—he reached to pick her out. Only once he had her in his grasp, he knew the most peculiar urge not to let her go. She became oddly tense as well, as though she knew his reaction and perhaps felt the same.

With more reluctance than he could believe, he set her on her feet, then offered his arm. "The path will be uneven. You had best take my arm, lest you fall. We do not want another accident."

"If it was an accident."

"Why would you think it wasn't? Surely Milburn would have nothing against you." Unless he had seen her near the links on the day he argued with the stranger. No, it was far more likely that Milburn would decide to court her when he realized she was to inherit that vast estate with wealth one usually dreams about. Was that not what had prompted the lace fan?

"I cannot believe that a skilled tennis player would hit a ball that went so far astray." She sounded annoyed.

"As to that, I fear I have had balls go every which way. We cannot accuse him of any crime on such slim evidence." He could not accuse the man, not without proof of wrongdoing.

She remained silent as they strolled along the path that led into the woods. Ahead of them stood a magnificent oak with wide-spreading branches. It was a massive size, and likely hundreds of years old.

Her surprise at the sight before her was a delight to see.

"What a magical place." Nympha stared at the huge oak, her eyes widening at the significance. "They truly think this to be the very oak under which Robin Hood met his men?"

"So they say." He thought her enraptured face utterly bewitching.

"I never thought much of it one way or another. It seems as though I have always been too busy with practical matters to daydream—helping Mother and all. Tabitha would like this—she adores Gothic tales. Since Robin Hood fought the sheriff and the king, freeing his friends, capturing the heart of a beautiful maiden—so they say— it is certainly that. It is a very romantic spot."

Nympha considered the gentleman at her side. He had shown every consideration for her, helping her, teasing her out of her serious reflections. Seeking his help seemed a natural thing to do.

Did he guess how his touch affected her? Could he read her mind with such ease as he had shown before, and know that she was a bit in love with him? She hoped not. She lifted her gaze to his face, wondering what he thought.

She had been kissed but once, and that lightly. Never had she been alone with a gentleman like this—and now she was. Would he risk kissing her? Truly kissing her?

Perhaps he also wondered about her, possibly kissing her. There in the deep silence of the wood, amid the silver birch and oak and masses of arching ferns, he bent his head, and his lips captured hers in the most delicate, delicious kiss she had ever imagined.

She ought to protest; certainly she ought to break away. This was highly improper. She had been taught better; a true gentleman did not dally with a young lady of quality. Her family might not be of the
ton,
but they were still eminently respectable gentry.

He lifted his head a moment to gaze down at her.

Thereupon she became lost in the second kiss. His touch melted her, and she could think of nothing better in this world than to be here with him, in the heart of this magical forest. Sensations whirled within her, creating a swift eddy that threatened to do away with all thought.

Reality set in somewhat like that thump on her head. Perhaps Lord Nicholas had decided that if she was going to inherit vast wealth and property she might make an acceptable spouse? Even though respectable, she knew she was not of his status in society. But from all she had read and heard, money did soothe the conscience, ease the pain of wedding into a family of lower circumstances—if indeed he thought of marriage!

She abruptly pulled away from him—quite as she should have the instant he drew her toward him. What a pity she hadn't taken one of the maids along. It would have prevented this from happening. Or was Lord Nicholas the type who would get his way no matter what? In that respect she hardly knew him well enough to know.

"Thank you for letting me see the tree and a bit of the forest. It was most, er, illuminating." She spun around and stumbled on a root that protruded, her eyes blinded by sudden moisture. He rushed to set her on her feet again, and she carefully removed his hand from her arm.

"Nympha, forgive me if I took unwanted liberties. I did not get the impression that my kiss was unwelcome."

She cast him a glance that she hoped told him nothing. "As to that, you must be aware you are handsome and possess a great deal of address. I have no more immunity against your charm than any other young woman, I suppose."

He sighed, most likely with annoyance at her provincial attitude to a kiss. But he escorted her to the coach with a polite reserve she found chilling.

Once seated in the coach, she regarded him with a brave face that she hoped concealed her bashful heart. Silence was her best refuge.

Nick studied the young woman who perched so uneasily on the seat across from him. Blast it all, what had possessed him to kiss her, and like that?

A gentleman did not overwhelm an innocent, and she certainly was all of that. It was her very innocence that had caught at him, tempted him. He would forever associate the scent of lavender with her; he knew that.

But what would happen now? He doubted she would go to her great-aunt to reveal what had occurred in the forest. The thing was, what would she say?

He found himself hating the thought of putting up at the Mansfield Inn. He had enjoyed staying with her surprising great-aunt. And, he reminded himself, he also needed to keep an eye on Nympha, not to mention Milburn.

It was possible to say she was in no danger, but what about Milburn? Would he pursue a young woman of undoubted innocence to capture her future fortune?

The coach rumbled into the stable yard. Within minutes the steps were let down, and Miss Herbert moved forward to accept the hand of the groom in assisting her from the coach.

So it was to be like that, was it? Nick left the coach, following her into the house.

With an inward grin, he touched her arm before she went up the stairs. "Thank you for accompanying me on my errands. You proved very helpful. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Her wide-eyed stare of surprise was his reward.

"Any luck, Lord Nicholas?" Mrs. Coxmoor inquired as she joined them in the entry hall.

"I think so. At least I have hopes."

Chapter Eight

What did he mean he had hopes? The man was a walking enigma.

Nympha proceeded up the stairs in a thoughtful mood. It had been a disturbing excursion—not so much around the little town of Mansfield. It was the highly illuminating stop at Sherwood Forest that disordered her calm. His kiss had shaken her, still sent tremors through her at the very memory of it.

It was a pity there were so many contradictions spinning through her mind. While Lord Nicholas might have sufficient funds at the moment, was there ever a man on earth who had enough money? That green folly of his, the golf links, must be costly to say nothing of building a house.

And what about Mr. Milburn? She had no knowledge of his finances, but she'd wager he would gaze kindly on a young woman of wealth. If she was to inherit, as Lord Nicholas seemed to believe she would, what then?

She changed from her simple cream dress to the equally simple blue silk, over which she draped the stylish lace shawl. Once satisfied with her appearance, she returned to meet her great-aunt in the drawing room. Dinner would be soon, and Nympha wondered if both Lord Nicholas and Mr. Milburn would be present. She fiddled with her reticule and the lace fan.

"My dear, I trust you had a pleasant day." Without waiting for an answer, Great-Aunt Letitia continued with a surprising request. "Mrs. Rankin comes early in the morning. She has two assistants, so she ought to be able to have a dress or two ready for you soon. After she has taken your measurements, I wish you to join me in the library." She paused for a moment. "I have decided you are to inherit all I have—save for a few small bequests." She beamed an approving smile on her grandniece.

"I scarce know what to say. I am overwhelmed." Nympha's right hand sought her throat; then she clasped both hands before her lest they flutter. She detested fluttering females. So Lord Nicholas had been correct in surmising that she was to be an heiress.

"I will send off a letter to your parents to request that you remain with me here. There is much for you to learn about the properties you are to inherit. I believe your first lesson will be in the morning—when you join me in the library." Seeing Nympha's expression, she added, "It will not be so onerous, I promise. In particular I would not have you ignorant of the workings of the various mills. I wish you to know who is trustworthy."

"Indeed, ma'am, that should be necessary to understand," Nympha replied while she tried to absorb all the many implications of her inheritance. It was vast, complex, and she wouldn't be going home for a long time if what her great-aunt said held true. Nympha couldn't imagine her parents denying her the legacy.

"I have found the businesses all quite fascinating," her great-aunt continued with a distant gleam in her eyes. "At first, after my husband died, they expected me to sell, or at the very least turn over the management of all the properties to a supervisor. It was considered unthinkable that I—a mere woman—could begin to comprehend the workings of a business. I outsmarted them all. My husband had taught me much; I learned the rest."

"That is incredible." Nympha was utterly awed by the woman who sat so composedly on the sofa. "It is a wonder that one of those men did not try to have you declared incompetent."

"They might have tried. But I managed the transfer well, and soon they came to know that I meant business. The coal mine I leave to my manager, coal not being particularly interesting to me. It is the lace making that fascinates me. When you marry, if I am still around, I will teach your husband. I believe Lord Nicholas is curious about the mills and manufactories. Perhaps I will invite him to join us—in the event he desires to invest in such enterprises."