Sweet Bravado (24 page)

Viscount Ardsmore was sought out by his many acquaintances whom he presented to Nicole with his casual but impeccable charm.
It was a pleasure to sail under cover of his gallant protection, though she didn’t realize how many thought the Viscount was
to be envied because of the lovely picture his wife portrayed. Nicole felt a stirring of hope for their future. She looked
at her husband with unconcealed admiration, and he responded with a warm smile that stopped her heart. People noted the handsome
couple with delight. Valentin continued to stay at her side joining in the small talk and seeing to her comfort. It was much
later when Valentin ventured to leave her for the card room. Shortly thereafter Danforth appeared to keep her company. Whatever
slights there were, Nicole remained oblivious to them, for there was enough friendliness to soften the snubs of a few crusty
dowagers.

One slight contretemps with Lady Raymond almost became unpleasant, but Nicole felt she handled the situation rather smoothly
when all things were considered. Lady Raymond was the only person to mention Nicole’s recent appearance with the dancers on
the night of Valentin’s arrival in Brussels. Using the guise of old age to mask her spite, the dowager flung her outrageous
question to Nicole in a voice loud enough to be heard by others nearby.

“Ah, Lady Ardsmore, our accomplished ballerina,” she crowed. “Society has not had the pleasure of your company these many
days. I feared we had lost you for good. I hope we may expect the delight of further performances from you in the future,
my dear.”

“How kind of you to remember my small efforts, Lady Raymond.” Nicole smiled blandly dissembling her chagrin
as best she could. “I fear my poor talents are too meager to be taken seriously.”

“Au contraire,”
the dowager would not give up her sport at Nicole’s expense. “You are too humble. I am sure many of the
ton
were quite impressed with your talents.”

Nicole refused to be mocked further by the nasty crone. “Do you really think I showed promise?” Nicole questioned with false
sweetness.

“Oh, indeed I do. You must continue your efforts to entertain, my dear.”

“Well, it is no small matter when a lady of your undisputed taste gives her approval to one’s efforts. You may be sure I shall
place your name at the head of the list when next I entertain.” With that remark, Nicole walked off having routed her adversary.

Upon returning home, Valentin commented lightly on how well they had scraped through the evening and bid Nicole goodnight.
She had hoped he would make some slight gesture in her direction, but Valentin stayed away. Several other engagements were
attended by the two of them, but no further progress was made in their personal relationship. At the end of an evening he
would wish her goodnight and withdraw to his chamber.

When Valentin attended a bachelor dinner for a friend one evening, Nicole, who had no engagement of her own, retired early.
Nevertheless, sleep escaped her. Unconsciously she was waiting for the familiar sound of Valentin’s Hessians down the corridor.
When it did come, she was surprised by the faltering footsteps—it was not the swift stride she had become accustomed to hearing.
Slipping cautiously from bed, Nicole hastened to the door, opening it a crack, and looking out she saw her husband engaged
in retrieving his sword from the floor. Spying her as he straightened, he bowed mockingly, “Ah, my beautiful
wife, sorry, I did not mean to awaken you. Very clumsy of me to drop this.” His speech was slurred.

“You are foxed,” she commented.

“Mmmh, so it would appear. There were many toasts to old Martin. Poor old Martin! What a fool,” he sneered moving close to
her. “I told him so. Love‘em—leave‘em. Less trouble that way. But he would not listen. Claimed she was an angel. Ha!” He took
hold of her long dark curls. “Looks are deceiving. Aren’t they, my dear?”

She ignored his remark. “Let me help you to your room.”

“Good idea.” He smiled mischievously. “Perhaps I can entice you into my bed. Is there a magic charm that might work?”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” she chided. Encircling his waist with her arm, Nicole led him to his room.

“Oh, madame.” The valet came forward to meet them. “I will assist his lordship.”

“No, I want my wife to help me. You may go, Jenkins!” Valentin waved his hand emphatically.

“But, my lord…”

“It is all right, Jenkins, I will manage.” Nicole dismissed him.

Valentin collapsed into a chair. “Woman, remove my boots.”

Smiling to herself, she obliged by kneeling at his feet and yanking at one and then the other boot.

“That is where you belong.” He studied her upturned face. “At my feet.”

“You are absurd,” she laughed.

Swiftly bending over her and grasping her painfully by the shoulders, he forced her to remain on her knees.

“Val, let me go,” she pleaded.

“What if I don’t?”

Nicole struggled to free herself, but his grip grew tighter.

“You are hurting me!”

“Perhaps if I beat you,” he threatened, “you would not defy me. Maybe it is not too late.” He no longer appeared drunk, just
menacing.

“Take your hands off me!” Immediately he did so, and she stood up.

“I forgot.” He stood up, too. “You cannot stand to have me touch you. Can you?” He seemed to have tired of the game and, removing
his jacket, turned from her.

“I… I did not say that,” she murmured.

“No? I seem td recall words to that effect on more than one occasion.” Valentin unbuttoned his shirt revealing his muscular
chest.

“You do not understand,” she said breathlessly staring at him.

“Are you trying to tell me that I am not abhorrent to you?” He stepped toward her.

“Of course you are not! It is just that you… I, well, we always seem to antagonize each other,” she explained lamely.

“Yes, so it seems. I wonder why?” he mused stroking his chin.

“You see what I mean? You already have that gleam in your eye.”

Valentin paused, surveying her loveliness. “Forgive me. You’re right.” Then he added thoughtfully, “Do you think there is
a chance we might be able to change?”

“I… I don’t know,” her voice was almost inaudible.

“I suppose we could try,” he suggested.

“I would like that,” Nicole whispered fervently. “But how…”

“Like this,” Valentin reached out drawing her against
his golden chest. Then lifting her chin he kissed her lips gently. Releasing her lips and looking down into her darkened eyes,
he whispered, “If love has escaped us, desire has not, Nicole.”

She stiffened in his arms as he sought her lips more aggressively, molding her body to his, and conquering her will to resist.
She loved him! And if desire was all he could give her she would take it. Pride be damned! With a sob she allowed herself
to be lowered to the bed and felt his lean hard body upon hers, inflaming her with his passion. Deftly and expertly Valentin
aroused her ardor until the moment of climax consumed them both.

Arrogantly, he looked at her before drawing away. Clearly he was the victor, she the vanquished, but it did not matter. Tonight
Valentin had been hers and that was what she wanted more than anything else. If only someday he would come to love her.

A kind of tranquility settled over the Ardsmore residence after that evening. Each was content to let the situation rest where
it was for the moment. No great demands were placed on either party. Both remained cautious, carefully watching the reactions
of the other. The tensions which lay beneath the surface could shatter the fragile harmony that was developing between them.
Because of this, their lovemaking was infrequent, but rapturous. It was only as they came spiraling down to earth out of the
clouds back to reality that Nicole grew bewildered, for a triumphant mocking look would appear on Valentin’s face before he
relinquished his claim upon her body as its master. What did it mean? she wondered.

This shaky reconciliation continued until late one afternoon in May when their peace was abruptly ended. Nicole heard the
voice of her husband in the outer corridor
and the sound of voices warned her that he was not alone. The door opened and he entered looking a little harried.

“Nicole, my love,” he addressed her, “see who is newly arrived in Brussels.”

It was Cecily, looking flushed and happy, in the company of a pleasant faced young man who wore the same scarlet regimentals
as Valentin.

Nicole rose from her seat at once and went up to the couple, extending her hand to Cecily. “How nice to see you again, Cecily.”

“Dear Nicole,” Cecily gushed. “Allow me to present my husband, John Tilford, to you. John, this is my cousin Valentin’s wife,
Nicole.”

“Your servant, ma’am,” he smiled charmingly and kissed Nicole’s proffered hand. “The Viscount certainly has done himself proud,
I must say.” He regarded her appreciatively.

Nicole felt a slight blush warm her cheeks as she cast a furtive glance toward Valentin.

“Old Tilford and I cut many a caper in our Oxford days together,” Valentin explained. “There was more than one occasion when
we were forced to rusticate after some particularly vile escapade, eh Telly?” The Viscount gave Tilford’s shoulder a comradely
squeeze.

“Oh, Val, I do wish you would refrain from that obnoxious nickname,” Cecily protested.

“Come, Cecily,” Valentin chided amiably, “with all due respect I cannot promise that I will cry off,‘Telly,’ but I do swear
to forget my pet name for you,‘Peaches’.”

Cecily flushed hotly. “Monster! Am I never to live that down?”

“Peaches?” Tilford questioned. “How did you come by that particular name, my dear?”

Cecily looked even more uncomfortable. “Oh, la, John,
you know how Val is always funning.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“There was a fellow at school we called‘Peaches’, Val. Remember? Always running to the headmaster with a tale on some poor
bloke.” John stopped when he realized Cecily was turning even redder.

“Nicole,” Valentin intervened, “I have asked John and Cecily to stay with us. The housing accommodations in Brussels are shabby
in the extreme, and since we have rooms that are unused, I assured Cecily that you would insist on their joining us here.”
He looked meaningfully into her eyes, and she knew what he expected of her.

Nicole picked up her cue at once and spoke with forced enthusiasm. “Of course, Val, I would not think of allowing Cecily and
her husband to take up residence anywhere else.” She hoped Valentin was satisfied with her response.

“You are too kind, Nicole, but I would not dream of imposing…”

“Nonsense,” Nicole cut off further polite amenities. “Come with me, Cecily, and we will locate the housekeeper and see to
the rooms at once.” Nocole nodded to the men. “I am sure you will excuse us while we see to the rooms.”

Cecily was not the only family member to make an unexpected appearance in Brussels. Perry Harcourt arrived unceremoniously
shortly after the Tilfords. He wore a uniform and proudly announced himself a member of the Carbridge Cavalry Brigade.

“Hell and damnation!” Valentin roared. “What do you mean by this rash act? Are the Harcourts to risk extinction?”

“Egad, Val, don’t be angry with me. I could not sit back and take no part in this exciting contest. Why, man,
everyone is in it now—Whembley, Struthers, Addington —they are all here too. It is sure to be the grandest battle in history.
You would not have me sit at home, a coward out of harm’s way, would you?” Perry coaxed.

“Indeed I would, sir. This must be seen to at once. I will have you sent turnabout to England on the first return packet leaving
Ostend,” Valentin retorted with great heat.

“You will not do it, Val! I will not have you order me about like… like… a…”

“Hush, Perry,” Nicole interrupted. “Val, let us have peace.” She placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Your brother has just
arrived and not a word of welcome.” The blue eyes were piercing her own with burning anger, but she did not relent. “Perry,
my dear,” she said turning to him, “come give me a kiss hello. How glad I am to see you again.” Nicole held out her arms to
him.

“And me, too,” Cecily chimed in. “La, but you are a handsome sight in those regimentals… I… er… mean you look, well, simply
marvelous!” She ended with a defiant toss of her head in the Viscount’s direction.

Even Madame Lafitte sought to check the flow of the Viscount’s anger by calling for a place to be laid for Perry that he might
join them at dinner.

Seeing himself outflanked in the present skirmish, Valentin relented and held out his hand to Perry. “It is not that the sight
of you displeases me, for I am always glad to welcome you, Perry.” And giving him a hardy grin, he clasped the younger man
about the shoulders in a veritable bear hug of brotherly greeting. “And how goes our illustrious parent, Lady Eleanore?”

“Famously, just famously.” Perry gratefully accepted the change of topic, realizing, however, that his brother would still
have at him about his commission at a later time.

That night after Nicole had just retired, her husband entered the room. She watched him with glowing eyes as he came to her.

“You look surprised, my love,” he said ruefully as he untied his robe.

“I was not expecting to see you tonight.”

“Were you not?” he mused with raised eyebrows. “And why not?”

“I was afraid that encounter with Perry had put you out of temper.”

Valentin frowned. “As a matter of fact it does rankle. Why did you intervene between my brother and me?”

“Someone had to come to his defense,” she said rather defiantly.

“Are you suggesting my brother needs to be defended against me, and you are the one to do it?” he asked mockingly.

Nicole bit her lip, regretting the subject already, but she decided to ignore his flippant question and try to reason with
him. “You must allow him to grow up, Val.”

“Must I?” There was a challenge in his voice. “What for? So that he can get himself killed? He is my heir.” When she did not
reply, he continued, “I have no other.” Once more he hesitated before adding meaningfully, “Unless you and I have a child
of our own.” Her downcast eyes flew to his face as he slid into bed beside her.