Lord Nick's Folly (21 page)

"Mr. and Mrs. Popham, Sir Mark and Lady Ollerton, Mr. and Mrs. Endcliff and their daughter, Penelope." A gentleman dressed as a knight stepped forward. "And Sir Giles Arnold."

Penelope Endcliff made a charming shepherdess. Nympha hoped that Lady Anne decided to wear something else tonight. It would be confusing to have more than one shepherdess—although Penelope had soft brown curls of a lighter shade than Lady Anne's.

Foley appeared to announce dinner before much conversation could get underway.

Nympha found herself seated between Sir Giles and Lord Nicholas, with Mr. Milburn seated next to Penelope Endcliff. She was too nervous to eat, yet with Lord Nicholas urging her to sample this and taste that, she discovered she ate a very good meal. Of course she couldn't have said what she ate, but that was all right.

Once dinner finally ended, they all wandered toward the ballroom. Those invited to dinner naturally felt precedence to those who came later. Nympha stifled a strong urge to grin as she observed a bit of preening on the part of Lady Ollerton and Mrs. Popham as the remaining guests began to enter the room.

Great-Aunt Letitia introduced each person as they came forward, taking care to speak clearly so Nympha might recall them later.

The room was well filled when the contingent from Nelthorpe Castle arrived. Lady Jane fancied herself as a shepherdess—another one—complete with crook, with her brother dressed as a knight. Lady Anne followed, pausing to greet someone she knew. When she came to make her curtsy to her hostess, Nympha froze.

It was like peering into the looking glass, right to the blond wig that gleamed beneath the sheer linen veil. Her bosom was fuller, her gown cut lower, and altogether she cut a more dashing figure than Nympha.

What a nasty thing to do!

"How charming, Lady Anne. You might be Nympha's twin." Mrs. Coxmoor gave her a disdainful perusal.

Chapter Twelve

“
How very clever of you, Lady Anne," Nympha said clearly, with far more composure than might be expected of so young a woman. "I am flattered beyond belief that you would wish to copy my costume."

"Indeed, my dear. Mrs. Rankin devised Nympha's costume a week ago," Mrs. Coxmoor said, her voice and manner cool. "You were extremely inventive to match it so precisely—and in such a brief time. Isn't that so, Lord Nicholas?"

"Inventive, indeed." It was his frostiest tone, reserved for depressing toads.

Lady Anne looked as though she would suddenly like to be elsewhere. She glanced back at her parents, presumably to see if they paid the slightest attention to the conversation.

Lord Henry gave his sister a disgusted glance, then turned to Nick. "Told her not to do it. Bribed the sewing woman's helper, silly female." He spoke in an undertone just loud enough for Nick to hear.

The Duke and Duchess of Nelthorpe followed, but seemed to notice nothing amiss with their daughter's costume, or the fact that it was identical to Nympha's.

Nick suspected they rarely paid the slightest attention to their children, and admitted surprise that they had deigned to attend so mundane an affair as a masquerade ball at Coxmoor Hall.

The duchess paused before moving on to offer a cool smile at Mrs. Coxmoor. "It was so thoughtful of you to send me a sample of that latest pattern of lace. You may be certain that I shall inform my friends where it is made. What a beautiful design." Her fluting tones could be heard a fair distance away.

Nick suppressed a grin. Another bit of bribery, perhaps? He shot a knowing look at Mrs. Coxmoor, which she returned with a limpid gaze.

The musicians began playing a sprightly tune. Nick immediately turned to Nympha. "Miss Herbert, I believe this is our dance."

Lady Anne had lingered close by, giving Nick a pert smile, quite as though she hadn't done something stupidly outrageous. If she thought Nick was going to invite her to be his partner, she could think a long time.

Nick led Nympha out to the center of the ballroom floor, bowing to her with old-fashioned courtesy. How Lady Anne thought she might compare to Nympha Herbert was beyond him. It was not merely Nympha's sweetness of expression that had captured his heart. Her voice was pleasing to the ear, her smile dazzled, and her instant concern when trouble brewed appealed to him greatly.

He recalled how she helped him with his golfing project. While she might have wished to see his brother, she had been a good sport about trudging around the links, jotting down figures and the like for him.

How had her figure escaped him then? Had he suffered from temporary blindness? Nympha possessed a sylphlike figure. When he had carried her in his arms, he had relished her slim, yet soft roundness, her inviting curves.

In the candlelight Nympha's porcelain skin had the allure of a rose petal. And hazel eyes couldn't begin to compare with her dazzling blue. When he drew close to her, a light scent of lavender teased his nose. There was little not to adore in his chosen young lady, his goddess.

Mrs. Coxmoor had requested a minuet to begin the ball, so Nick guided Nympha through the various patterns of the dance. The minuet was going out of style, indeed, no longer performed at many balls, but it was a graceful dance, and Miss Herbert performed it with éclat, her eyes flashing with transparent delight when he held her hand just so. If she was upset with Lady Anne's treachery, she hid it well.

What always surprised him was the sensuality that could be conveyed in this dance. It was quite possible to flirt, send tender messages with the eyes, and press the hand in such a way. It served a gentleman far better than romping through a reel.

Miss Herbert possessed a very fine pair of blue eyes, eyes that now cast a flirtatious glance at him, a tempting look. He knew great reluctance to leave her enticing side when the dance concluded. The ball was not so large a group that he would find it impossible to dance with her again—although she looked so delicious in her Maid Marian attire, he was tempted to keep her all to himself. Surely he might beg three dances, and the gossips could simply have a grand time.

Nympha fanned herself when Lord Nicholas escorted her to the side of the room. Never mind that the minuet was supposed to be a stately dance. Whoever said that had never observed Lord Nicholas—or danced with him. She thought she could have melted merely from the heat in one of his searing looks. Why had she never seen this side of him at home? She had merely considered him one of the Stanhope family up at Lanstone Hall, a person she might sit by at a dinner without any expectations. Of course, when she had dined there, she had paid a bit more attention to his older brother. And now all she could do was think of Lord Nicholas. What a fickle creature she must be!

As to what she thought of Lady Anne copying her costume, she seethed with a healthy dose of un-Christian anger. Papa would be shocked, but so was she. It was all very maddening. Surely Lady Anne would not have any trouble devising a costume on her own. What did she have in her devious mind? Many of those in attendance had given her and Lady Anne puzzled looks. Well, as her mother always said, it was better to ignore something like this than to make an issue of it. For all the others knew, it had been planned.

Lord Nicholas walked along with her, nodding to people they had met, while obviously admiring the interesting and amazingly varied costumes. She rather liked the Old King Cole outfit one gentleman wore. A matron had donned a Columbine costume that ill suited her stout form. And Lady Jane wore a confection of a French shepherdess—but without the lamb her sister supposedly took with her in the past.

"My lord," one of the footmen said, offering a folded paper to his lordship, "this arrived a short time ago from Nottingham. Mr. Foley thought perhaps it might be of importance."

Once the servant had left, with an apology to Nympha Lord Nicholas broke the seal on the paper, unfolded it, and began to read. His expression was exceedingly interesting, if one read faces.

"I trust it is not bad news, my lord?" Nympha stood quietly at his side, not seeking another partner. Somehow she thought it better to linger, at least for the moment.

"Well, it is a curious bit of information for us, but perhaps not so good for Milburn. I wonder how he will react? Come with me."

He held out his arm, and she placed her hand on it. Since Nympha brimmed with curiosity, she was not about to be left out of whatever was going to happen next— regardless of what it might be.

Mr. Milburn was dancing with Lady Anne at the moment, flirting smoothly in a practiced manner. Nympha was surprised that the polished Lady Anne would succumb to such obvious flattery. Simple country girl that Nympha was, she could recognize a dumped butter boat when she saw it.

"I believe we shall wait here," Lord Nicholas said, gesturing to the area where the couple was likely to end up at the conclusion of the country dance.

"What has happened?" Nympha didn't think she could wait until the country dance finished to know what was so momentous in the letter from Nottingham.

"Recall the sketches I took to Nottingham? Someone recognized the man." He gave her a meaningful look, then watched Mr. Milburn with a narrow gaze. Nympha decided she would not like to be the recipient of such a look. "I shall explain all to you later, but I think it best if I confront him with my knowledge alone."

At long last, the dance over, the couple promenaded along the side of the ballroom a short distance before Lord Nicholas stepped forward to block their path.

"A word, Milburn, if you please."

With an uncertain glance at Nympha, Mr. Milburn bowed to Lady Anne, excused himself, then walked off with Lord Nicholas, leaving Lady Anne and Nympha Herbert staring after them.

Lady Anne immediately sought her sister.

Once they were somewhat apart from the others, Nick drew forth the missive, unfolded it again, and held it up to show Milburn. "I had a response to my inquiries regarding that sketch. Someone in Nottingham recognized my poor likeness of the fellow who was killed at the seventh green of my links. You ought to have known the chap, dear fellow. It was your cousin—the heir! Yet you made no comment."

Milburn gave Nick a steady look. "And? Other than to tell me for certain that I shall inherit the title and estate, I see no complication. Are you expecting one, perhaps? I must confess that I did not recognize him in your sketch—I saw him so rarely, and he was wearing his hair differently when I last saw him."

"Perhaps you were observed that day at the links when you were arguing with your cousin." Nick flicked the paper against his other hand, frustrated by Milburn's calm demeanor. Egad, the chap was a cool one. Nick felt in his bones that Milburn had done in his cousin. After all, he had everything to gain by his cousin's death, and little to lose—unless someone could identify him. What a pity that Nympha had not observed him trounce his cousin on the head with that golf club. Not that he would wish a gently bred female to witness a murder, but it would cinch the matter of the culprit.

"I did happen to see him that day. He wanted to borrow some money from me—I had to deny him funds," Milburn said without apology. "He wasn't a bad fellow, just improvident. Apparently Miss Herbert saw us together, but that is that. There is no proof one way or the other as to how he was killed or by whom, is there?" Milburn folded his arms before him, looking rather kingly in his borrowed velvet finery, particularly with the fake crown on his head.

"That is partly true," Nick admitted. "We do know how he was killed. But as to who perpetrated the crime, that is the mystery." But hadn't Milburn said he had
not
seen the dead man? What precisely had he said when the death had been brought up? Nick was sorry he hadn't taken notes at the time. It was too late now, and as Milburn said, there was no proof one way or the other.

"I would say that it will remain an unsolved case for you." Milburn's gaze seemed sly and secretly amused.

"Someday I trust there will be a means of proving by whom a crime is committed." Nick crumpled up the paper he had hoped would help solve the crime. Perhaps had he been more skilled he would have found a means of forcing a confession from Milburn. However, he would wager that the man had covered his tracks well, leaving no evidence behind, other than the golf club that was linked to Nick and no one else.

Milburn gave Nick a half smile. He added nothing more to what he had said before he sauntered off to speak to Miss Herbert.

Nick would have given a pound or two to know what he was going to say to her. He forced himself to look about. Spotting Lady Jane not far away he walked to her side to request the next dance. Although it was supposed to be a masquerade ball, he found it relatively easy to identify those he had met, and Mrs. Coxmoor had tipped him off as to which young ladies he might deem agreeable partners.

Not that he would expect Mrs. Coxmoor to invite less than the cream of local society, far from it. By this point he had ascertained that despite her position as the owner of mills and a coal mine, she was not shunned by society as were most people termed cits. Perhaps she was simply too wealthy, or maybe it had to do with her impeccable taste and sweet nature. It also might have something to do with her paying bills promptly, patronizing the local merchants whenever possible, and supporting local causes with generosity.

He had learned that she was a prominent contributor to the relief of the poor in the parish. The vicar, Reverend Bowerbank, had importantly listed her as an employer who was assisting those poor who were without jobs. No less than the Duke of Portland also had an interest in the scheme. Neither did it do any harm that she offered samples of lace to people like the duchess.

No matter, he was grateful for her position as Miss Nympha Herbert's great-aunt. He intended to take advantage of her kind offer for him to remain as long as he pleased.

His present problem was how to converse with Lady Jane and the other young things at the ball until he deemed it time he might invite Nympha to be his partner again.

"Robin Hood—such a mystical, magical hero," Lady Jane said with a sweet smile peeping from beneath her half mask. With her mask, it seemed she shed some of her shyness.