Scandalous Love (13 page)

She gasped, not at his
query, but at the accuracy of his suspicions. "How conceited you are! I
have not followed you to London!" she lied, for she could never, ever
admit that she had been lured to London by him.

"I do not believe
you."

"That is your
problem, not mine."

"No," he said
slowly, "there you are wrong. It most definitely is
our
problem."

Nicole stood very still.
She did not understand his meaning, not until his gaze slipped to her low
decolletage, and then she drew in her breath sharply. Dangerous desire swept
through her. It was a long moment before he spoke, their gazes locked. "I
know you never come to London, Nicole. I know you have come because of
me."

"You are arrogant,
impossibly so," she retorted.

"And you are a
liar."

"No!" she
cried, trembling.

"Then why did you
come to town when you never come—not since the scandal?"

Of course he would know
about her fall from grace, just as everyone did, but that he should so openly
allude to it distressed her. How sweet it had been to pretend that he had not
known, or, even better, that he had not cared.

"Well? Can't you
find a convenient excuse?"

Her cheeks flushed as
she was reminded of the need to defend herself and lie to him. "I came to
London last year—and that's the truth! Regina always begs me to come, just as
she begged me now."

He took another step
toward her. His smile was cold. "And to think that I thought you were an
excellent actress."

Nicole backed away.
"I am not acting."

"No? At this moment
you are a terrible actress." He had taken another step closer, and again
Nicole had moved backwards. "What's wrong, Nicole? Are you afraid of
me?" he challenged.

Nicole instantly stood
her ground. "Don't delude yourself!"

His smile was grim.
"I didn't think so. You aren't afraid of me, are you? I know your game,
Nicole. I am not a fool."

"I don't know what
you are talking about."

He laughed, the sound
disparaging. "Now this is acting!"

Nicole dug in her heels,
furious with his mockery. "Think what you will. But I have no idea what
you are raving on about!"

"You are stalking
me, are you not, darling?"

"You
are
seriously
deluded," she cried.

"Many women,"
he told her harshly, "have tried what you are trying. And none have
succeeded in enticing me from Elizabeth. Do you understand?"

His words were like a
slap in the face. She drew herself up, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I do
not seek to entice you away from your precious Elizabeth!" she hissed.
"And I suggest you return to her before she comes looking for you and
finds you so intimately alone with another!"

"Elizabeth is at
home."

"Warming your
bed?" Nicole mocked.

He was stunned, but only
for an instant. "The way you would like to?"

Nicole gasped. Her face
flushed, but hopefully it was too dark for him to see. "That is the last
place I would ever want to be."

"Really? Need I
remind you of our past meetings?"

"Need I remind you
that it was your behavior that was abominable?" she cried.

"I suppose it is
first-rate for a lady to strike a man with her riding crop, not to mention ride
about the countryside dressed as a boy."

Nicole drew herself up.
"I'm leaving. I don't have to stand here and listen to your insults."

He caught her arm as she
strode past him, whipping her around. She did not even try to pull away,
knowing it would be useless. His face was too close to hers and she could not
take even the shallowest of breaths. "Leave London."

"You cannot order
me to leave the city!"

"You will not
succeed in your endeavor, Nicole."

She jerked her arm free.
"I am not trying to entice you away from Elizabeth! I have no interest in
a philandering, immoral cad like yourself!"

"No?" He
caught her chin in one large hand, and before she knew it his lips were very
close to her own. "Really?"

"Don't do this!
What do you seek to gain?"

They stared at each
other. His jaw was clenched tightly. His fingers hurt her face. She waited for
his kiss, expecting it, wanting it, afraid of it, and him. Suddenly he released
her.

"It's what
you
seek
to gain!" Be said, his eyes blazing. "If you do not leave London,
Nicole, I shall!"

"Good," she
shouted back. "Good! Then go! Because you are not going to give me orders
as if I were your precious Elizabeth!"

He stared at her, so
furiously angry that he was shaking. For an instant Nicole was certain that he
was going to strike her—or drag her into his embrace and ravish her. But the
instant passed, and before she could blink he was striding across the patio,
away from her. He flung open the doors and then slammed them shut.

Nicole sank down onto
the hard stone bench in the corner of the patio, trembling violently. She did
not see the stars overhead, she could not see anything but him. Then she
covered her face with her hands, which still shook. What was happening? Why, oh
why, had she ever had to lay eyes on the Duke of Clayborough?

Unable to fight her
despondency, Nicole gripped the windowsill and stared outside into the bright,
clear October sunshine. She heard footsteps behind her, but did not move,
recognizing them as her sister's.

"Nicole, I am going
driving in Hyde Park with friends. Charlie Ratcliffe has a new automobile.
There's room for one more, why don't you join us?"

Nicole did not turn, not
wanting Regina to see her face and ply her with probing questions. Although
Regina had the innocent look of an angel, she was very clever, and she
certainly knew Nicole as well as anyone, well enough to guess that something
was seriously amiss. "I don't think so. I am going horseback riding this
afternoon," Nicole said, although she had no such intentions.

Regina hesitated, then
told her she would see her later and skipped out. Nicole sighed and turned away
from the window, wandering aimlessly about the bright green morning room.
Alone, she was haunted by the Duke's image, his words, their encounter. It was
like being possessed by the devil, and how she hated it, how she hated him.

Aldric appeared.
"My Lady, the Viscountess Serle is here."

"Don't bother
announcing me, Aldric," Martha said, walking in. She took one look at her
friend and turned to the butler. "Bring us tea, please, Aldric."

When he had left, Martha
came forward to sit by Nicole on the couch. "I have never seen you like
this, Nicole, but somehow I had a terrible feeling that you would be down and
out today. You must put him out of your mind. You must!"

"I cannot. Believe
me, if I could, I would, but I cannot."

"There are other
men in London, many other men. Please, let me introduce you to some of
them."

"Oh, Martha, do not
bother. My reputation precedes me."

"You can change
your reputation, Nicole, if you try!" Martha said with temper.

"Perhaps I do not
want to," she snapped back. Then she grabbed Martha's hand. "I am
sorry, it is not you I am angry at."

"I know."

"Coming to London
was a mistake, a big mistake. I am going home."

Martha looked at her for
a long moment. "Running away? Like a coward?"

Nicole flushed.

"Will you let him
chase you away?"

Nicole bit her lip.
Martha did not know what had happened last night, but she did. Not only had he
presumed to order her to leave London, he had actually challenged her by doing
so. And he had dared to suggest that she was afraid of him! If she suddenly
left, the Duke would think that he had succeeded in chasing her from town. He
would also conclude that she was indeed a coward, and afraid of him. And
apparently nothing was going to change his ridiculous assumption that she had
come to London to
entice
him away from his precious Elizabeth anyway.
She stiffened. That was a ridiculous assumption, wasn't it?

Had she secretly hoped
to win him from his betrothed? What other possible explanation could there be
for her behavior in chasing him to London?

Nicole trembled,
dismayed with herself. She had never been more confused in her life. She would
rather let him think the worst, which he was intent upon doing anyway, than let
him win their private battle. And never would she admit, not to him or to
herself, that she could have possibly harbored such foolish motivations in
coming to London. "You are right. I must stay a little longer, then."

"Good! But you must
not pine. This afternoon I am playing tennis at the club with several other
ladies. We are missing a sixth. You are coming with us. It will be fun."

"I don't—"

"Nicole, you like
tennis! You must get out and about and at least appear to have a good time, so
he does not think you are pining for him."

"You are very
clever, Martha," Nicole said, smiling reluctantly. "All right, I
shall come."

They arrived at the
Club-Near-the-Strand early that afternoon. Nicole rode with Martha in her
carriage, and entered as Martha's guest. The attendant at the door obviously
knew Martha, for he greeted her by name, checking her off of his list. Inside,
they proceeded to find for themselves racquets and balls, then strolled
outdoors to join the rest of their party.

Tennis was very popular
these days, especially with young ladies. All of the courts were in play,
except for the three that had been reserved for their group, and all of the
players were women except for one pair of young men.

The rest of their party
was already there, awaiting them. Five women sat around a table with a pitcher
of lemonade, all clad in white shirtwaists and navy blue skirts, their racquets
by their chairs. As Nicole and Martha approached, Martha murmured, "Oh,
dear!"

Nicole missed a stride
when she saw Elizabeth Martindale among the group. "You did not tell me
she would be here!" And not only was the Duke's fiancee present, but
sitting beside her was Stacy Worthington.

"I did not know. I
am sorry, Nicole."

The ladies ceased their
conversation abruptly as Nicole and Martha came to the table.
"Hello," Martha said. "I thought we needed a sixth, and I
brought Lady Shelton, but I see I have erred."

"So we can
see," Stacy said. Her glance was contemptuous. "I brought my cousin,
Elizabeth, to make the sixth." There was no mistaking her message that
Nicole would not be welcome to play with them.

"I am sure we can
work something out, Stacy," Martha said politely, although her eyes were
daggers as she looked at the brunette.

"That's all
right," Nicole said quickly, trying very hard not to stare at Elizabeth,
for this was the first time that she was seeing her up close. The perfect
little blonde sat quietly amidst the obviously hostile group. "I am tired
anyway. I will just take your carriage and go home and send the driver back for
you."

Martha gave her a look.

Nicole did not want to
argue, and she gave Martha a look as well. Normally she would fight someone
like Stacy, but Elizabeth's presence effectively quelled her natural
inclinations.

"Perhaps that would
be best," another girl said, a slender redhead wearing thin gold-framed
spectacles. She glanced nervously at Nicole.

"I for one do not
want to share my court time," Stacy said.

"Stacy!"
Elizabeth reproved. She stood. "I do not believe we have met." Her
smile was friendly. "I am Elizabeth Martindale, Lady Shelton."

Nicole was motionless
for a long moment, staring at the proffered hand. Finally she remembered her
manners and took it. "How do you do?"

"Thank you. Lady
Shelton, I do not mind sitting out and watching. Really, I don't. You can play
in my place. Actually, I am not overly fond of the sport."

Nicole's jaw tightened.
The blonde's warm smile never slipped, and her blue eyes appeared genuinely
friendly. Very coldly, Nicole said, "That is quite all right, Lady
Martindale. You need not give up your court time for me."

"I really don't
mind," Elizabeth said, only to be jabbed by her cousin, Stacy.

"If she wants to,
let her go home," Stacy said.

Elizabeth pursed her
bow-shaped mouth. "Stacy, we have enough time that all can play even if I
choose to do so." She turned again to Nicole. "We can share court
time, if you wish, but I warn you, I do tire easily." Her smile reached
out to Nicole again, making her very uncomfortable.

"All right,"
Nicole heard herself say stiffly. "You may play first, though." She
could not form a smile, could not even try.

All the girls took to
the courts they had reserved while Nicole sat alone at the courtside table,
trying to watch but still upset by Elizabeth Martindale's presence. The Duke of
Clayborough's betrothed seemed to be a nice person. Nicole could not get over
her apparent friendliness. But it had to be insincere, didn't it?

Nicole found herself
ignoring all the players, except for Elizabeth, from whom she could not keep
her gaze. She did indeed seem to tire easily, having no stamina or strength at
all. She was the worst player on the courts, in fact, she could barely hit the
ball. Was she, then, the kind of woman the Duke preferred? Some pale thin
blonde? A woman too delicate even to play a passable game of tennis? A woman
who had guileless blue eyes and an ever-ready smile? Nicole hated to admit it,
but of all the girls she had just met, Elizabeth actually seemed all right. She
was the only one who had tried to be friendly to her; even Martha's friends
Julie and Abigail had looked at her cautiously and had not attempted to speak
with her. Nicole knew that Martha felt badly for having talked her into coming.

Not even ten minutes
later, Elizabeth walked oil or the court, panting and perspiring and quite red
in the face. "I told you I tire easily," she gasped, sinking down
beside Nicole.

As much as Nicole
disliked her, she quickly poured her a lemonade. "Are you all right?"

Unable to speak,
Elizabeth fanned herself with a magazine left at the table, nodding. She drank
thirstily. Finally she said, "Thank you. I just need to rest. I should not
have come. I have not been feeling quite the thing these days."

"You probably have
a touch of the flu," Nicole replied, twirling her racquet uncomfortably.

"I don't think
so," Elizabeth said ruefully.

Nicole left her to join
the others. For a while she played with Matilda, but it was a poor match,
Matilda not even able to sustain a short volley. Stacy came over. "Let's
you and I play," she said, rather snidely. "Matilda and Martha are
more evenly matched."

Nicole agreed, making
sure Stacy did not see her expression, which had darkened with determination.
Stacy was the best player on the court and her intention was obvious; Nicole
was certain the other girl hoped to trounce her. The girls moved to opposite
sides of the court and began to volley. Nicole played often with her brothers
at a public court not far from Lessing and she was a good player. Now she hit
the ball easily to Stacy, who returned it just as easily to her. Gradually, both
girls began hitting the ball harder and harder. Suddenly Stacy drove the ball
furiously at Nicole, who managed to return it even more furiously, causing
Stacy to miss it on the run.

Both girls were panting,
eyeing each other with determination and dislike, and the play began in
earnest.

Whack! Stacy hit the
ball. Wham! Nicole returned it. Back and forth the girls volleyed, as hard as
they could. Again Stacy missed, this time running right into the fence, unable
to stop. By now the other ladies had paused and gathered to watch, with
Elizabeth coming to stand at the fence as well. Stacy was panting; Nicole was
not even breathless.

"Had enough?"
Nicole asked sweetly.

"What they say is
true," Stacy spat between great gulps of air. "You are no
gentlewoman, you do not even play tennis like a lady!" With that, she
stalked off of the court.

Nicole turned red with
embarrassment and with anger, for Stacy had been trying to best her just as
hard as she herself had been trying to win. The other ladies turned away, except
for Martha and Elizabeth. Martha's mouth was pursed. Slowly Nicole walked over
to them.

"Please forgive
Stacy," Elizabeth said, touching Nicole's arm.

Nicole pulled her arm
away.

"She is not usually
so rude; I don't know what has come over her." Elizabeth's look was
beseeching.

Nicole did not answer,
and Elizabeth turned away.

"This was a
mistake," Nicole said to Martha.

"I forgot that
witch Stacy would be here, Nicole, and I am sorry, but you must consider that
she is awful to everyone who is not in her charmed circle. Just because she is
Northumberland's niece, she thinks the sun rises and sets at her whim. If she
were not here, the other girls would have been more friendly, I am sure of
it."

"Your friends were
dismayed by my presence."

"That's not true,
Julie and Abigail are just quiet and shy. Give them another chance, I promise
you, you will see that they are very nice ladies."