Scandalous Love (14 page)

Nicole nodded, and the
two of them walked back to the group, now gathered around the table drinking
lemonade. Elizabeth had pulled Stacy slightly away, and Nicole was shocked to
hear her berating the brunette.

"How could you be
so rude, Stacy? It was truly unbearable. You must offer your apologies to Lady
Shelton at once."

"I? Apologize to
that barbarian? Sometimes you are blind, Elizabeth, you see nothing but good in
everybody!

Haven't you heard about
her? She is an Unacceptable, and nothing will ever change that!"

"You are being very
unkind, very uncharitable, and it is not becoming," Elizabeth rebuked.
Then, seeing Nicole and Martha, she broke off. "Are you leaving already?
Perhaps we should change partners, we still have court time left."

Nicole thought that it
was incredible, this woman had defended her, a stranger, to her cousin, and now
she was seeking, obviously, to salvage the afternoon for no one's benefit
except Nicole's. "I have another engagement, I am afraid."

"Well, perhaps we
will play another time," Elizabeth said. "It was so nice to meet you,
Lady Shelton."

"And you,"
Nicole managed, unable to cut her.

She and Martha left and
were soon ensconced in the Serle carriage in silence. After many minutes,
Martha looked at Nicole. "What are you thinking?"

Nicole bit her lip,
looking up at the roof with despair. "I am thinking that she is not only
pretty, she is nice."

"Elizabeth is very
nice," Martha said quietly. "There is no one who does not like
her."

Nicole turned to stare
out of the carriage without seeing Covent Garden, which they were passing. Is
this why the Duke loved her? "Except me," she said sadly.

Martha had no response.

"Lady Elizabeth
will be down shortly, Your Grace."

The Duke nodded,
glancing once at his eighteen karat pocket watch and pacing restlessly about
the small drawing room. It was unlike Elizabeth to be late, yet another fifteen
minutes passed before she came down, dressed, he saw, not for supper and the
theatre, but in a day gown. "Have you forgotten me?" he asked,
surprised and teasing her somewhat.

Elizabeth sighed, coming
to him. "I am so sorry, Hadrian, I did not forget. I fear I have made a grievous
error."

She sank onto the couch
and he sat beside her. I doubt that," he said. "Are you feeling
ill?"

"I am just
exhausted. I played some tennis this afternoon and it fatigued me terribly. I
should have sent you word then that I must cancel our engagement, but I so
wanted to see you, and I did not want to disappoint you, either. I had hoped
that a nap might restore my spirits, but I have only just awakened and I am
still exhausted."

"Do not worry about
me," the Duke said. "You should not have played tennis, Elizabeth,
and I agree, you should return to bed for the evening."

She touched his hand.
"You are not angry with me?"

"Of course
not." Then his gaze softened. "But was it worth it? Did you enjoy
your outing?"

She looked at him with
dismay. "It was not very pleasant, Hadrian, indeed, I am still
upset!"

"What has upset
you?"

"Two of the ladies
were terribly rude to another one, cutting her dreadfully—and one of them was
Stacy."

"Stacy is not the
kindest person we know."

"I felt just
awfully for Lady Shelton, really I did. And there is no excuse for it! I know
that apparently there was some scandal a few years ago, but that is in the
past, and it is wrong to hold one mistake against someone forever."

The Duke was very still.
"The woman they cut was Nicole Shelton?"

"Yes. Do you know
her?"

He shifted.
She had
not left town.
"Nicholas Shelton is now my neighbor, since I have come
into possession of Chapman Hall. I dined with him and his family just before I
returned to London."

"Well, she was
terribly hurt by the whole incident, I could tell. She is very proud and she
tried to hide it, the dear. I told Stacy just how disappointed I was with
her."

The Duke cleared his
throat. He was not merely uncomfortable with the conversation but with his past
behavior and his innermost thoughts regarding the subject in question. It had
been only the night before that Nicole Shelton had driven him into a nearly
uncontrollable rage. It was only last night that he had been a hair's breadth
from taking her in his arms and doing with her what he willed. It was very
unseemly for him to be discussing Nicole Shelton with his fiancee, considering
all that had happened between them. "Stacy needs to be told off now and
again. If I do not see you tonight, shall we postpone supper until
tomorrow?"
But why hadn't she left London? Did she still think to
seduce him away from Elizabeth?

"That would be
wonderful. Hadrian, from what I understand, Nicole is not very welcome among
the ton. And now that she is back in London, I think it is dreadfully
unfair."

The Duke paused. If he
dared to continue dwelling upon this topic he would have to conclude that he
himself thought it was unfair, too, and worse, he did not approve of Nicole
Shelton being cut today for a scandal long since dead. Nevertheless he did not
want to discuss the matter, not with his fiancee, for to become her defender
would be terribly inappropriate. "Life is rarely fair."

"That is not like
you! I am going to invite her to join our poetry circle, and I will make sure
she is accepted by all."

The Duke grimaced. On
the one hand, what Elizabeth wanted to do was noble and right, but on the
other, he was appalled at the thought of her becoming friends with Nicole
Shelton. "Elizabeth, perhaps you will feel differently tomorrow. From what
I have seen of Lady Shelton, she is a strong woman, and a few nasty gossips
will not bring her down."

"I am determined,
Hadrian," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly. "She needs friends like
me, it is glaringly obvious, and I shall be her friend."

Very, very briefly,
Hadrian closed his eyes. Could this coil possibly get worse? Nicole would not,
could not, accept his fiancee's offer of friendship, could she? And why was she
still in London? Was it because of him?

He should still be
furious with her, but he wasn't. His anger had died last night. In fact, if he
dared be honest with himself, he was very nearly elated that she hadn't left
town.

The Duke had a terrible
sense of impending doom.

Nicole was shocked the
very next day when she received a prettily penned invitation from Elizabeth to
join her poetry circle the following night at the Marquess of Stafford's.
Regina looked at her curiously; the sisters were relaxing with tea and pastries
in the green morning room. "What is it?" she asked.

Nicole reread the
invitation, still unable to believe it was for her. "It is from Elizabeth
Martindale. She has invited me to join a poetry circle."

Regina came to sit
beside her sister. "You should go. How nice of Elizabeth."

Nicole carefully laid
the invitation aside, her heart beating heavily. "Why would she invite
me?" she asked aloud. "She barely knows me." But she couldn't
help thinking of how ironic it was; the one lady in London to offer her
friendship was none other than the fiancee of the man she had harbored a tendresse
for.

"Because she is
very nice. Undoubtedly she knows you are new to town, and is trying to include
you in her set."

"You know her
well?"

"We are friends.
Go, Nicole," Regina urged. "You need to make some friends here."

Nicole bit back a reply.
She could not possibly explain to her sister why she could not join Elizabeth's
poetry circle even if she wanted to, which she surely did not.

Regina suddenly looked
at the wall clock with a gasp. "Oh, I must go and change! Lord Hortense is
taking me
for
a drive this morning! She flew from the room.

Nicole could not even be
distracted by her sister's ongoing infatuation with the miserable Hortense.
Again she looked at the invitation. She knew there was no ulterior motive.
Having met Elizabeth only once, she was certain of that. As Regina had said,
Elizabeth was just being nice.

Abruptly, she crumpled
the letter in her hand.

Why in blazes did she
have to be so sweet? Why couldn't she be a shrew like her cousin, Stacy? And
why in blazes did she have to pick on her, Nicole? Not only didn't she want her
friendship, she didn't need it!

Nicole bit her lip hard.
The terrible truth was that deep inside her heart there was a fragile part of
her that would have loved to respond to the other girl's overtures. But of
course that was impossible. They could never be friends. Not after what had
happened between her and the Duke of Clayborough.

And because, in the
darkest midnight hours, she still dreamed about him.

Quickly, before she
could change her mind, Nicole penned a polite refusal and had it delivered that
afternoon. She assumed that would be the end of it, for certainly Elizabeth
would not continue to seek her out and befriend her. However, she was wrong.

Elizabeth came calling
the following afternoon.

"Please sit,"
Nicole said rather formally.

"Thank you,"
Elizabeth smiled. She was rather breathless, a pale blonde vision in a tailored
silver blue silk suit. "I am so sorry you cannot join us tonight, Lady
Shelton."

"I am afraid I am
already engaged," Nicole lied. She sat across from Elizabeth in a bergere,
both of her hands clutching its smooth wooden arms.

"I hope you don't
think that Stacy will be there, for she is not a part of our group, having no
interest in literature." Elizabeth's eyes held hers.

Nicole was appalled that
Elizabeth might think she was afraid to join the group because of her cousin.
"Stacy is not the reason why I cannot come.

"Good."
Elizabeth smiled. "As Hadrian pointed out, she has a tendency to be
somewhat inelegant at times, and it is not just with you."

Nicole froze.
"Ha—the Duke said that?"

"Oh, I was so
terribly upset with her behavior that day, that when he came to take me to
supper I could talk of nothing else. He approved of my having rebuked Stacy
thoroughly."

Nicole swallowed hard,
her face flaming. Elizabeth had sat with the Duke of Clayborough discussing
her! Oh, how amused he must have been! It was too much! Absolutely too much!

"I have come to
invite you to another affair, this one Saturday afternoon. I am helping
Hadrian's mother, the Dowager Duchess, arrange it. Every year she holds an
American-style picnic, an idea she apparently got from her Bostonian relatives.
The young ladies bring a box lunch, which the gentlemen bid on. The winners, of
course, sup with the ladies whose lunch they bought, and the proceeds go to a
very needy charity—that of the poor orphans in this city." Elizabeth
smiled. "It is always a big success, and a lot of fun. Everyone turns out.
Won't you come?"

Nicole was aghast. If
she put a lunch up for auction no one would buy it! She had not one doubt!
"I am sor—"

Elizabeth was ahead of
her, and she interrupted. "I didn't mean that you should bring a lunch, I
understand why you would not want to. I only meant for you to come and enjoy
the afternoon. In fact, I would be very surprised if your parents were not
planning to attend, and I know Regina will be there."

"My parents,"
Nicole said stiffly, "are returning to Dragmore for the weekend."

"Oh."

Nicole was flushed,
angry. Elizabeth had not intended to insult her by casually assuming she would
not dare to bring a box lunch, but she had. She understood the humiliation
Nicole would reap if she brought a lunch and no one bought it. Nicole's jaw
clenched.

"I did not mean to
upset you," Elizabeth said softly, worriedly. "It really is a good
time, and not everyone is bringing a lunch. Being as I am one of the
organizers, I am not, and you may certainly picnic with me and Hadrian."

"I am not
upset," Nicole said as proudly as possible. "And whatever makes you
think I would not come? With a lunch?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened
briefly before she recovered. "Oh! I am so glad, then, that you shall
participate!"

Nicole smiled grimly,
knowing she had just foolishly committed herself to a course that could only
result in disaster. But she was held in the throes of her own pride, and she
could not back down, not in front of Elizabeth Martindale.

Saturday was a bright
sunny day, an Indian summer day. The sky was cloudless, and the trees in Hyde
Park all shimmered incandescently gold. Some two hundred noble ladies and lords
had gathered for the occasion, all dressed in gay finery, their coaches and
carriages lined up for miles behind them on the horse track that threaded
through the park. Now everyone gathered around a platform that had been constructed
for the festivity, one end of which was piled with picnic baskets all merrily
painted and decorated in ribbons, bows, and lace.

Elizabeth clung to the
Duke's arm, standing near the platform, facing the crowd, her eyes searching
it. "I wonder if she decided not to come after all," she murmured.

"Who?" The
Duke asked, shifting impatiently, unable to help himself from being bored. He
had a weighty legal matter on his mind, and in a few hours he had a meeting at
his home with several lawyers. His question was distracted, and he did not care
about Elizabeth's answer, not, of course, until she responded.

"Nicole
Shelton."

He froze, staring down
at her. He had been relieved when Elizabeth had told him that Nicole had
declined her invitation to read poetry. He had already decided that if Nicole
accepted, he would seek her out and demand to know her intentions. But she had
not accepted, and he had not had to seek her out. "I do not imagine she
would come here," he said stiffly, although the thought of her actually
being present made his pulse race.

"She said she would
come, and she said she would bring a lunch." Elizabeth left off scanning
the crowd. "I did not mean for her to participate in the auction, only to
come and dine with us."

"You invited her to
dine with us?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course. That
was before she said she would bring a lunch. I assumed, so foolishly, that she
would not, and how could I let her dine alone? But she knew I understood that
should she bring a lunch, it would not be very popular, and it could be quite
embarrassing, so she abruptly told me she would bring a lunch. She has so much
pride—I admire her."

Hadrian's jaw clenched.
"You need not admire her," he said, although he suspected he might,
secretly, admire her too, although he was presently unwilling to admit it. He
could also imagine how any gentleman here would love to buy her box and spend
the afternoon with her in the privacy of a copse of trees, regardless of the
scandal in her past. After all, they had eyes in their heads. He found he was
distinctly displeased with the thought of Nicole Shelton sharing a picnic with
some unnamed peer.

"But I do,"
Elizabeth continued. "I wish I was more like her."

"You are perfect as
you are."

"Oh, Hadrian, you
are being overly gallant. I must also confess that I have been worried that no
one will buy her lunch."

"I am sure she has
her admirers."

"Hadrian, you are a
dear, but you are just not current, and how could you be when you are so rarely
in town? I am not criticizing you," she added quickly, "for you know
how proud I am of your skill in matters of business. But our set just does not
forget. Sometimes they can be so cruel."

"I am sure you are
exaggerating," he said, certain that the males present would compete
eagerly for Nicole Shelton's company.

Elizabeth gazed up at
him with a fond smile. "I hope you are right, but I have already taken
care of the matter should it come to pass as I suspect it will. I asked our
cousin Robert to bid on the lunch and he agreed, although he was not exactly
charitable about it."

"Robert," the
Duke echoed, thinking of Stacy's handsome, rakehell brother. He scowled,
certain that it would not be long before Robert would have her flat on her
back. "He is not trustworthy!"

Elizabeth gave him a
curious look, surprised at his fierce expression. "Robert will behave
himself, but I do not see him anywhere. Oh! Hadrian, she's here! She did
come!"

Strangely breathless,
the Duke turned slowly to follow Elizabeth's delighted gaze. Nicole stood with
her sister, somewhat apart from the crowd, her head held high. She was a
striking vision in a peach-striped suit and a straw hat adorned with one
vibrant coral-colored rose. Her gaze met his.

He had forgotten to
breathe, and he took a long, drawn breath. This circumstance was intolerable.
How could he be standing here with his fiancee, whom he was genuinely fond of
while lusting after another woman—one he could not have? This infatuation—this
obsession—had gone on long enough. But how in hell was he going to end it?

Nicole wished she were
anywhere but there. Regina was chatting gaily with two young ladies and their
beaux, leaving Nicole momentarily excluded. She had been trying very hard not
to look at him, but it was impossible.

Her glance stole to him
again, and again she was frozen, for his regard was on her, too.

Nicole quickly looked
away. She was trembling. Why did he have to be so magnificent? Why did she have
to notice? Why did he have to be here, today, to witness what would surely be
her humiliation? And why, why did he have to be betrothed to Elizabeth?

The bidding had begun.
Nicole did not pay attention as one lady's basket, painted blue and white and
tied with a pink ribbon, was sold to some young man for twenty-five pounds.
Dread swamped her.

Even at the last moment,
she should have backed out. It was the height of stupidity for her to have
brought a basket lunch—no one would buy it. She silently damned her pride.

Several more lunches had
been auctioned off, most of them for ten or twenty pounds. Nicole wondered if she
could turn coward and leave now, before her box was put up on the block. She
found herself staring at the Duke again.

For a scant moment, one
that seemed to linger forever, their gazes locked. This time he was the one to
look away, and when he did, it was to say something to Elizabeth. But Elizabeth
had caught her eye and she waved gaily. Nicole did not know if she responded or
not. She only knew that she could not turn tail and flee, not now. With a
resolute sigh, Nicole turned to face the platform again.