"I doubt the sheriff or others in power thought that of him. You admire heroes of, er, mystical, magical qualities?" He tilted his head to smile at her, admiring the way she managed her full-skirted shepherdess gown and the crook she carried.
"Oh, certainly, my lord."
He laughed. "In spite of this being a masquerade, it would seem that everyone knows who the rest are."
"A few of the costumes are quite familiar—like Old King Cole. We all know he is the vicar."
"I see. Well, it is a change for him, as a jolly old king, that is." He glanced to the far side of the room to spot the vicar in an animated conversation with the plump matron wearing the Columbine costume.
"Miss Herbert told me that Mrs. Coxmoor had her bedroom newly papered and that the design is utterly heavenly." Lady Jane peered up at him, the eyeholes in her half mask not in the least concealing her curiosity.
"I chanced to be there when the paper was bought and can say it is of the first style. Something like a paper used at Chatsworth and the Brighton Pavilion, I believe."
"I must know—is it red? Her late husband had a great fondness for red," she concluded with a gurgle of laughter.
"No." Nick laughed. "It is Chinese in appearance, with plants, birds, and butterflies in abundance on it. Quite refined, not a bit of red in sight. Do you admire red?"
"No, but I do like Chinese paper. If Mrs. Coxmoor has some, Mama will allow me to order some as well."
Her remark served to reinforce Nick's opinion of Mrs. Coxmoor as one who had admirable taste that others flocked to emulate.
A supper had been promised, and Nick sought Nympha so he might enjoy her company while they ate. He gave Milburn a narrow look when he discovered him fawning over the girl. Pity the fellow didn't learn to read expressions. Nick would swear that Nympha did not admire the gentleman in the least. Her taste was as good as her great-aunt's.
"Miss Herbert, you promised me the supper dance." She had done no such thing, but Nick hoped that she would agree now. At her slow smile, he could almost guess what went on in her mind.
Milburn wandered off. When Nick next saw him, he partnered Lady Anne once again. The lady flirted with him, but then, she seemed to flirt with every partner she had.
"I thank you for this dance. Miss Herbert. I admit to a little falsehood, and hope you would be so kind as not to deny me your hand."
"Never, good sir. How could I when you saved me from Mr. Milburn? He gives me the oddest feeling when he stands close—most uncomfortable, I assure you. When he looks at me in such a manner, I could swear I have an insect crawling on my arm."
Nick shook his head with amusement, but he thought he knew how she felt.
It seemed, however, that they were fated to have Milburn and Lady Anne in their set. He fancied Lady Anne wangled that.
If Nympha had ogled him in the same fashion as the very forward Lady Anne, he would have been more than delighted. He would have whisked her around some dark corner to indulge in a number of kisses and perhaps more. With Lady Anne, he just longed to paddle her— or send her back to her nanny to learn better manners.
"La, my lord, what a prude you are. I vow I thought you had London polish!" she whispered loudly as they met in the pattern of the dance. Her eyes mocked him for his lack of flirtatious ways.
"Oh, but I believe I do. Have you been there?" he inquired with a dulcet tone and bland manner. As a set down, it was admirable. Lady Anne had proclaimed her marvelous come-out in London Society a number of times, and his memory was not so bad that he didn't recall a few of the details. She was behaving like a trollop, and deserved far worse than he had given her.
Sharp anger flashed in her eyes for a few moments before she offered an indifferent smile. It was the sort that made him wonder if his set down had been wise. Was there anything more spiteful than a woman scorned?
When the country dance concluded, he swept Nympha along with him to where an elaborate supper had been set out on a long table. After filling plates for them both, he found her seated at a small table somewhat secluded from the others. Ah, she was a girl after his own heart.
"I fear we were vastly rude to Lady Anne and Mr. Milburn." Nympha's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Why do I have the firm belief that we truly do not care?" he countered.
"You are naughty. And how Lady Anne can allege that you do not have Town Bronze is more than I can imagine. In fact, I should say you not only have Town Bronze, but a very nice country manner as well. I have not missed your kind attentions to my great-aunt, dear sir. There are many lords who would turn up their nose at a woman who not only owns, but supervises, her mills."
"More fools they, in that instance. Anyone who cannot admire such a nice lady is an idiot."
Nympha beamed back at him, thinking she was a most fortunate young woman to be his chosen companion for supper. Beyond that, she didn't dwell.
She scarce knew what food she consumed. The conversation was witty, diverting, quite fascinating. She might never have made a London come-out, but she could listen with the best of them—and she believed that gentlemen enjoyed a good listener. Her father certainly did. Nympha had learned from watching her mother.
They finished the light meal. On their way back to the ballroom they passed Lady Anne. Nympha wasn't sure how it happened, but in some manner, Lady Anne trod on the hem of Nympha's gown, tearing something possibly vital. A sudden touch of cool air on her back near the lacing was not a good omen.
Lady Anne made no sign she noticed anything wrong.
"Excuse me, Lord Nicholas, I fear I
must
make a repair to my gown." Nympha stood as tall and straight as she could, hoping that whatever the damage, it would be less visible that way. She sent him a look of appeal.
"She deliberately stepped on your hem. It was not possible to miss her intention." Nick looked at the back of the gown to see a tantalizing sliver of pale skin on her lower back. "Come, I shall walk behind you close enough so that others cannot see the rip."
"But you can?" Her horror at this simple matter was almost amusing. Lady Anne's intent was not.
"There isn't that much damage. Your maid can likely whip it together in no time." He escorted her from the ballroom along the hall to the bottom of the stairs. He watched while she hurried up to her room.
He was killing time strolling about in the hall, studying the portraits of long-dead ancestors, thinking one of them appeared not only regal, but somewhat familiar, when the footman approached him with a note.
Politely thanking the servant, Nick unfolded the paper and scanned the message. What intriguing nerve! Lady Anne begged him to attend her in the little anteroom off the ballroom. She had something to tell him.
Flicking the note with a finger. Nick paused before one particularly stern portrait to think. Had she wished to apologize for her unseemly conduct she had merely to offer a few words while in the ballroom. It did not require the utmost privacy. The instincts he had learned during his London Season told him this had all the earmarks of a trap, something a bachelor learns fast to avoid.
He thought a bit longer, then summoned the footman stationed near the ballroom door. Nick gave him his instructions and Lady Anne's note. He returned to the bottom of the stairs again to wait for Miss Nympha Herbert of the estimable Herbert family he knew could be traced to the time of William the Conqueror. Compared to that family, Lady Anne Nelthorpe was an upstart.
On the far side of the ballroom, Mr. Jared Milburn received the note from the footman with a puzzled frown. Not bothering to thank the servant for the courtesy or service, he opened the missive and read it. Moments later he sauntered from the ballroom to the door leading to a little anteroom he had noticed earlier. He had thought it an ideal place for a bit of dalliance. It seemed another had the same thought.
When he opened the door, leaving it ajar a tiny bit, he saw a figure standing by a window, her back to him,
the blond braids unmistakable. A sly smile hovered over his mouth. He hastened to her side. Spinning her around, he lost no time in kissing her.
She yielded in a manner that would please any man, clinging to him with abandon.
"What's this!" a voice cried. Milburn sprang from the embrace to see the Duchess of Nelthorpe in the doorway, a note in one hand, her other hand clinging to the doorknob. Behind her a cluster of curious souls peeped in at the scene. There was no way it would go unreported, discussed, and tittered over by every gossip in the county. The Nelthorpes were well-known, but they were not particularly admired.
Lady Anne looked up at him with dismay. He gazed at her with all his considerable charm in evidence. He turned to face her mother, one arm snaking around his now soon-to-be-betrothed wife. It was certain he observed the sum of people pressing in behind the duchess.
"My dear Duchess, I have the felicity to proclaim your daughter as my future wife. She has done me the honor of accepting my offer."
Lady Anne's gasp was lost in her mother's swift evaluation of the circumstances, and an equally fast awareness of the inevitable conclusion. Since Lady Anne was a handful, and had not taken during her London Season, a mother would be quite justified in accepting a reasonable proposition. Mr. Jared Milburn would likely become the very rich Sir Jared according to gossip. Her daughter could have done worse.
"How lovely," the duchess replied. She sailed across the room to bestow an arid kiss on her daughter's cheek. "It is a surprise, but surprises are so lovely. Just lovely." She glanced behind her to note how the scene was being received. "We must go to your father, my dear. He will be so pleased, I know."
If the duchess had hoped for a different suitor for her older daughter's hand she gave not a hint of it now.
In the hallway Nick was rewarded for his patience when Nympha came floating down the stairs into his arms. Well, at least one of them. She cast him a demure look, then tucked one hand in his.
"It took longer than I expected. I truly did not believe you would wait here. How exceedingly kind of you, my lord." She gave a little skip, then walked at his side while they returned to the ballroom.
The first person they encountered was Mrs. Coxmoor.
"What is afoot, dear lady?" Nick inquired.
"You will not believe it. Mr. Milburn asked Lady Anne to marry him and she accepted!" Mrs. Coxmoor had a highly skeptical expression on her face.
"You doubt the announcement? Pray tell, why?" Nick tilted his head, his shock of relief and amusement raging in full force within.
"I saw him accept a note from my footman, James. Within moments Milburn marched from the room to enter the little anteroom just off the entrance. He left the door ajar, but apparently that was not sufficient. I was right behind the duchess when she pushed the door open to discover the pair . . . Lady Anne and Mr. Milburn locked in a torrid embrace!"
"How shocking," Miss Herbert exclaimed with a distinct hint of mirth in her voice.
"Lord Nicholas, you do not seem at all surprised," Mrs. Coxmoor said. "I wonder why? James confided that the note Milburn received had first gone to you, but that after you read it, you informed him it was truly intended for Mr. Milburn. Is that true?"
"Precisely as you were told. When a bachelor is in London, and possesses a title—even one such as mine— he learns rapidly to avoid certain situations. Being closeted with Lady Anne reeked of a trap." He exchanged a look with the older woman before turning to Nympha.
"You thought she was trying to trap you into marriage?" This time the note of alarm in Nympha's voice sounded genuine.
"I am quite certain of it," Nick responded.
"How intriguing." Mrs. Coxmoor walked between them into the ballroom where a goodly amount of talk centered on the choice bit of gossip.
Not every day does the duchess get such a son-in-law for her wayward daughter. Not a few mothers savored the set down for the hoyden who all too often had been cruel to their own daughters.
"Now, we will chat agreeably with the duchess and her family; then you two will dance as though nothing unusual had occurred."
They did precisely that.
Chapter Thirteen
The duchess was all graciousness. In spite of the many whispers and circumspect glances, she carried on as though all was rosy and just as she wished.
Lady Jane was the one who appeared subdued. She edged up to Nympha during a lull in the dancing. "I confess I am perplexed. I was so certain she meant to have Lord Nicholas. And now to find her betrothed to Mr. Milburn is far too much for my poor head to absorb!"
Nympha gave her a cautious smile. "Well, it does take two people to agree—most of the time. Perhaps she found Lord Nicholas had other plans that did not include her?"
"I suspect he did." Lady Jane glanced to where her sister, supported by Mr. Milburn, held court. "I told her that her scheme wouldn't work."
"She had a scheme?"
"There is no harm in telling you now. She thought it would be great fun to have a costume just like yours, then lure Lord Nicholas into a side room to cadge a kiss. At least, that is what she told me."
Lady Anne had plotted far more than a kiss. She had intended to snare the catch of the evening in her net, and she had captured a minnow instead. There was no way Nympha could keep a smile from creeping over her face. She realized that Lady Anne suspected Lord Nicholas would kiss
her—
Nympha. How curiously amusing.
Fortunately, Lady Jane was watching her sister and not Nympha. "I won't miss her. Nor, I fancy, will Mother. Anne has always been the rebel. If there is anything Mother deplores it is a woman who goes against society's decrees. But Anne did catch a husband after all." She fiddled with her shepherdess crook.
Thinking back to all she had learned about Mr. Milburn, Nympha decided they well deserved each other.
The vicar, so colorful as Old King Cole, presented himself as a partner. Nympha gladly accepted his offer, whisking off to the dance floor with gratitude. While she was not unwilling to learn of the plot against Lord Nicholas by the scheming Lady Anne, she did not wish to hear any other gossip from her younger sister.