Until You (13 page)

She watched as Alex blinked in surprise at her unexpected proposition and then looked once again at the cards in his hand.  Casting a suspicious glance at her perfectly composed expression, he hesitated for only a moment before replying in the affirmative. 

“Agreed.” 

Taking a deep breath, Alex fanned his cards out across the table.  Noting Ashleigh's slight frown, his confidence appeared restored and his mouth widened into a sanguine grin.

Striving to keep her features completely blank, Ashleigh laid her own cards down in front of Alex, who stared at them in openmouthed astonishment.

Nicholas, standing unnoticed just inside the doorway, was tempted to laugh at his friend’s look of undisguised shock.  Having wrapped up his meeting, he had exited his study a few minutes before, and searching for Alex had followed the sound of voices to the library.  As neither of them had heard his approach, he had stood silently for a time, observing their playful interaction with growing annoyance.   He’d then watched in surprise as Ashleigh had dealt the cards like a professional card cheat.  If he’d blinked, he would have missed her lightening quick moves as she had expertly stacked the deck. 

He had to admire her skill, for the actions had been almost impossible to detect.  He imagined that most anyone seated directly across from her dazzling beauty wouldn’t have stood a chance against her crafty manipulations, as Alex clearly hadn’t.  When Alex suggested a wager, Nicholas had almost chuckled out loud at his friend's unknowing blunder.  However, his amusement had quickly turned to irritation as he’d listened to Alex's audacious terms.  The only thing that prevented him from making his presence known, and throttling Alex right then and there, was the knowledge that Ashleigh had assuredly dealt herself the winning hand. 

Interested to hear what she would demand of Alex when he lost, Nicholas had held back and listened.  When she made her outrageous challenge, he’d once again struggled to keep from laughing aloud.  A waltz with Lady
Whitlunde
!  Even Alex didn’t deserve such a fate, he thought with sudden benevolence. 

Pushing away from the door, he strolled up behind Ashleigh, just as she laid her cards down on the table.

“If I were you, I would request a new hand, Alex.  This time, one dealt from the top of the deck,” Nicholas drawled sardonically.

Ashleigh tensed when she heard Nicholas’ voice coming from behind her.  How long had he been standing there she wondered?  Still miffed that he had paid so much attention to Lady
Taryton
during brunch, she deliberately ignored him.  She gave Alex an impish grin, devoting all of her attention to the man seated across from her.  “Did I forget to mention that another of our footmen taught me how to cheat?”

“Why you little minx,” Alex declared with mock affront.  “You would have had me twirling Lady
Whitlunde
about the dance floor without the least bit of remorse wouldn't you?”

“My business has been concluded, Alex, I believe you wished to take a ride about the estate,” Nicholas cut in rudely, wishing to put an end to the cozy little scene in front of him.

With a veiled smile upon her lips, Ashleigh rose from her chair and straightened her skirts with a slight shake.  “Thank you for the delightful game, Alex,” Ashleigh said sweetly, noting from the corner of her eye how Nicholas’ jaw tightened as she said Alex’s name with easy familiarity.  “I certainly don’t want to keep you from your ride.”  With that, she moved past the duke without so much as an acknowledgment, but even so, she made sure that he felt the light brush of her skirts as she passed. 

Stepping out of the library, she walked toward the front hall where she was immediately halted by the
Sethe's
butler.  “Excuse me, Lady St. John,” he said courteously.  “This was just delivered for you.”

Ashleigh looked at his outstretched hand and saw that he was holding a thin white envelope.  Eagerly she reached out and took it from his hand, thinking it might be a letter from her grandfather.  However, as she looked down at the front of the envelope, she saw that it was addressed in her friend Tiffany Marlowe’s flowing script, rather than her grandfather's bold print.  It must have been delivered to
Glenbrooke
, and then sent along to her here.  With an excited smile, she thanked him and then rushed upstairs to her bedchamber.

Once she reached the privacy of her room, she sat down upon the window seat that overlooked the rear of the estate.  Eagerly, she tore open the envelope and extracted two thin sheets of cream-colored parchment from within.  After reading the first paragraph she grinned widely, realizing that Tiffany and her father, who had been vacationing in France for the past month, were due home within the next few days.  She had missed Tiffany dreadfully, for they had been the closest of friends since childhood, and could hardly wait to see her.  It would also be a relief to have someone to confide in regarding her feelings about Nicholas Leighton.  With her spirits lifted, she leisurely read through the remainder of Tiffany’s letter.  When she finished, she folded the paper and then walked over and tucked it into the top drawer of her dressing table.  She couldn’t wait to tell Tiffany everything that had happened while she’d been away.  Well, maybe not
everything
, she thought, feeling herself blush.

When Alex prepared to take his leave later that afternoon, Ashleigh made sure she was there to say goodbye.  Despite Nicholas’ presence, or perhaps because of it, Alex took her hand, holding it purposefully as they walked down the front steps to his waiting coach, with Nicholas following doggedly two steps behind.  When they reached the gravel drive, Alex lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a feather light kiss across the tops of her fingers.  A knowing look passed between them as Nicholas stepped forward, a sudden frown turning down the sides of his mouth. 

“I shall be counting the days until we meet again,” Alex claimed, as he released her hand. 

“I look forward to it.”  Ashleigh smiled warmly.  “Have a pleasant journey, Alex.”

“Yes, have a pleasant journey, Alex,” Nicholas seconded, his tone decidedly brusque.

Alex merely grinned in response to his friend’s rather surly goodbye.  “Farewell, Nick.  I will see you in London,” Alex called over his shoulder as he turned and stepped up into the coach. 

When the vehicle pulled away a moment later, Ashleigh raised her hand to wave goodbye, and then turned and deliberately brushed past Nicholas without a word as she made her way back to the house.

As Annie helped her dress for dinner that evening, Ashleigh learned that Nicholas would be leaving for London in a few days.  According to Annie, Nicholas' valet had informed the butler that His Grace would be traveling to London for an extended stay and had requested that preparations be made accordingly.  Ashleigh had a sinking suspicion that he was returning to London for two reasons, first, to distance himself from her, and second, to meet with the seductive Countess of
Dragmore
.  Her spirits plummeted at the thought.

Nicholas was conspicuously absent when she made her entrance into the dining room a short time later and Ashleigh once again suspected that he was deliberately avoiding her.  She did her best to disguise her disappointment as she and Madeline dined alone. 

The thought of Nicholas’ upcoming departure weighed heavily on her mind throughout the evening however, and she desperately wished there was something she could do to forestall his leaving.  How on earth was she supposed to further their relationship if he was determined to distance himself from her?  Surely there must be something she could do.  But what?  Distracted, she struggled to maintain her focus as she conversed with Madeline during the meal, and later as they shared an after dinner drink in the parlor.

After a restless night spent mulling over the duke’s imminent leave-taking, Ashleigh made a decision.  Shortly after rising from her bed, she penned a note to Tiffany and then went in search of the duchess. 

“Of course, dear.  I don’t mind at all,” Madeline assured her, when she informed her that she wanted to visit her friend, asking if she could stay with the Marlowe's at their nearby estate for a few days. 

With Madeline’s consent, Ashleigh summoned one of the
Sethe’s
footmen and asked that her note be sent ahead to the Marlowe’s home so that her friend would receive it the moment she returned.

Throughout the next two days, Ashleigh saw Nicholas only in passing.  Despite Madeline’s urging, he declined to take his meals with them, instead having his meals served to him in his study, insisting that he was occupied with pressing business matters.  However, on the rare occasion they inadvertently happened upon one another, that same unspoken awareness seemed to pass between them.  She felt it, and she was certain that he did too.  Unfortunately, he was clearly determined to resist whatever feelings he had for her.  She couldn’t do the same.  She wouldn’t.  Though she did her best to appear unaffected by his deliberate standoffishness, she was far from impervious.  Though she smiled on the outside, on the inside she was hurt. 

Perhaps it was the ardent nature of her romantic’s heart, or perhaps it was a profoundly innate realization, she didn’t know, but whatever it might be, she believed with all of her heart that if she simply gave up, something precious, something wonderful would be lost to her, to both of them, forever.  With an idealistic faith and a fierce determination that belied her youth, she knew that she couldn’t stop trying to thaw the protective, icy barrier that Nicholas had erected around his heart.

The morning of Nicholas’ departure dawned bright and clear and Ashleigh was up with the rising of the sun.  She dressed that morning with extra care, knowing she needed to look her absolute best.  She chose a dress of pale peach silk with a form-fitting bodice cut low enough to expose the creamy white tops of her breasts while accentuating her narrow waist, and the gown's short puffed sleeves left her arms and the tops of her shoulders bare.  Instead of pinning her hair up, she tied it with a peach ribbon so that it fell down her back in a thick mass of lustrous waves.  She needed no rouge to heighten her color; her cheeks were already rosy with anticipation.  Exiting her room, she made her way to the second floor landing, where she waited, anxiously looking down upon the hall below.  When she saw Nicholas exit the library and head toward the front door, she began her decent down the stairs.

Hearing the faint rustling of silken skirts, Nicholas turned toward the stairs expecting to see his grandmother.  Instead, he saw Ashleigh, as beautiful and breathtaking as ever.  She reminded him of the vibrant color and elegant perfection of a freshly picked rose.  Though experience had taught him that beauty was only skin deep, simply another weapon in a woman’s arsenal, he seemed to keep forgetting that when it came to her.  He felt drawn to her like a moth to a flame, which was exactly why he was leaving.

“Good morning, Lady St. John,” Nicholas said with restrained politeness.

“Good morning, Your Grace.  Were you about to take your leave?”  Ashleigh asked with feigned nonchalance.

“Yes, I am departing for London,” he informed her.  “If you will excuse me,” he said, with a slight nod, “I must be on my way.”  Turning toward the door, he was abruptly arrested by Ashleigh's next words.

Fighting to control her rioting nerves, Ashleigh managed to keep her voice tranquil and light.  “Oh how fortunate, I was just about to request a carriage to take me to the Marlowe’s,” she said with a quick smile directed toward the
Sethe’s
butler, before her eyes swung immediately back toward Nicholas.  “Since you will be traveling in that direction, you can drop me off and save the trouble of outfitting another carriage.”  Without waiting for a response, Ashleigh turned and politely asked the butler to send one of the footmen to her room to fetch her traveling case, and then quickly moved past Nicholas without another word. 

Ashleigh was out the door and down the steps before Nicholas had time to formulate a plausible excuse to deny her request.  Unless he wished to look like an ill-mannered boor in front of his staff, there wasn’t much he could do.  Though his features were calm and composed, he felt anything but.  He had spent the past couple of days avoiding the little vixen and it galled him to be so cleverly maneuvered into spending the next half hour with her now, in the privacy of a closed vehicle no less.  He didn't doubt for a minute that she had planned the entire thing, knowing he would look like a complete ass if he refused to allow her to accompany him.

Grabbing his hat from the butler's outstretched hand; he strode out the front door.  He found Ashleigh patiently waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, a serene smile on her face, a smile that if he wasn’t mistaken, held the slightest hint of triumph.

His jaw clenched, Nicholas gripped Ashleigh's arm and propelled her towards the awaiting coach, past the startled footman, assisting her up the steps and into its shadowed confines himself and then pulling the door shut behind them with a loud thud. 

Ashleigh, landing on the seat in an ungraceful heap, couldn’t quite check the irate glare that crossed her features as she directed her gaze toward the scowling man seated across from her. 
He certainly isn't going to make this easy
, she thought, reaching down to adjust her rumpled skirt.