Scandalous Love (26 page)

"You will force
me—again?"

"Yes."

"Don't you remember
what happened the last time?"

Her words hung in the
air. Nicole instantly regretted them. Nicholas stared at her. "Are you
threatening me, Nicole?"

For the first time in
her life she was afraid of her father, but she held her ground. "Don't do
this to me!"

"I will not let you
run away," Nicholas said fiercely. "Not this time."

"You will have to
tie me up and carry me to the altar!"

"If you wish to
create the scandal, so be it."

Nicole sucked in her
breath. Jane cried out at her husband in protest. For Nicole it was just too
much. There was no changing his mind. With a small sob she fled the room.

Nicole was in a panic.
Her father and the Duke of Clayborough were the two most powerful men she knew.
If the two of them had decided that she was to wed Hadrian, then it would
happen. She had caught her father by surprise the last time by running away at
the last moment. In truth, she was ashamed of what she had done—but she had had
no choice. She would never regret running away from Percy Hempstead. Yet she
had never fought against that marriage the way she would fight against this
one. And this time her father was forewarned. Nicole shuddered. He had meant it
when he had said he would not let her run away—he had implied he would tie her
up and carry her to the altar if need be! He was so set upon her marrying
Hadrian that nothing was going to change his mind.

She paced her room in a
frenzy. Once her father had been her greatest ally, her best friend. How could
he do something like this? How could he force her to marry against her will? It
was as if she were chattel. As if she were a slave—to be sold to another human
being at whim. Although other women were given no choice in marriage, although
other women did not even expect to be given a choice, Nicole had not been
raised like other women. She had always had a shocking degree of freedom.
Nicholas had not raised her to be a mindless and dainty porcelain doll set upon
a pedestal. She had not been raised to be an ornamental wife and nothing more.
He had approved of her knowledge of farming and breeding and mathematics,
he had approved of her
unconventional education; indeed, he had always been interested in her opinion
on matters ranging from Dragmore to politics. And he hadn't cared less about
how she dressed when she was at Dragmore with the family. He had thought her
breeches most sensible for riding. He had certainly agreed with her that
painting watercolors when one had no talent and singing when one had no voice
were silly and useless pursuits, much to Nicole's relief. He had been proud of
her unusual achievements and her intellect.

Yet now, now he did not
care how she felt. He was marrying her off despite her deepest protests. He was
making a decision about her and her life, changing it completely, against her
will. He was no longer her greatest friend and ally. He was set against her.
Hadrian had come between them—Hadrian had done this.

Thinking about the Duke
and what he had done enraged her. Nicole's temper exploded. How dare he
interfere in her life! How dare he ruin her relationship with her father!

There was a soft rapping
upon her door. Nicole recognized her mother's knock and stiffened. She did not
ask her to enter. Jane had taken her father's side against her, and Nicole
could not be forgiving.

Jane entered anyway.
Nicole turned her back on her. "Do not be mad at me, or at your
father," she said gently. "We love you so much. We only want the best
for you."

"If you really
loved me you would not force me to marry him."

"In time you will
feel differently, and understand what we have done."

"I doubt it."

Jane hesitated, still
speaking to her daughter's back. "We are going to John's. I will tell him
that you are ill."

"Why? I am not
sick—just mad!"

"It's better that
you do not go," Jane responded calmly. "Nicholas told me that the
Duke was on John's guest list.

I doubt that he would be
there, but if he should be, I think it best you do not meet until your temper
has abated."

He was the last person
Nicole wanted to see. "I heartily agree," she gritted.

Her mother left the
room. A few moments later, Nicole went to the window and saw the Dragmore coach
rolling down the drive and onto the street. She stared after it

The first thing that
Nicole saw when she stepped into the red salon at John Lindley's home was the
Duke of Clayborough. The second thing she saw was Stacy Worthington.

She had decided to come.
Why should she sulk in her room? Maybe he would think she was avoiding him. He
was the last person she was avoiding. In fact, she had a few things she would
love to tell him.

But she had not counted
on this scenario.

She took a sherry from a
tray being passed around by a servant and sipped it quickly. Her heart was
beating erratically. Stacy Worthington was flirting with Hadrian. Nicole could
not take her eyes off of them.

She laughed at
everything he said. She pressed close to his side, gazing up at his face with a
look of rapture. She appeared to devour his few words. She clung to him.

Not that Nicole cared.
She
did not care.
She did not care that yesterday she had been in Hadrian's
arms, that today he had proposed, and that they were supposedly engaged. If he
wanted to make a fool of himself with another woman—a slender, beautiful
woman—that was fine with her. In fact, maybe he would decide to make Stacy his
wife! Nothing could suit her more!

Who was she kidding?

Nicole was upset, more
upset than she had been all day. She realized she was staring at them, and
finishing the sherry in a very unladylike manner, she turned away. Misery
etched itself onto her heart.

She looked around the
crowded salon, wishing she had not come. She ignored her parents. She saw Regina
laughing with Martha and her husband, and was glad to see that her best friend
was present. She smiled at them from across the room. Then she became aware of
how she was standing alone in the midst of all the chatting clusters of people.
Suddenly she felt awkward, and she would have loved to join one of the groups,
but she did not know anybody. She was aware, too, that the two ladies besides
her were looking at her, although they were attempting to be discreet.

Nicole's stomach
clenched, and for a moment she forgot about the Duke and Stacy. She had been
out of the social whirl for years and she had only arrived in London recently,
so she told herself that it was not surprising that these ladies would be
interested in her. Yet whom was she fooling? She was still considered something
of an oddity and an eccentric despite all the years that had passed since the
scandal. Would it never change? Would she always be an outsider?

She weaved her way
toward the Serles and Regina. She was very careful not to even glance at the
Duke. But the moment he spotted her she was aware of it. She could feel him
looking at her.

"Martha,"
Nicole said, with no small amount of relief.

Martha hugged her while
her husband pecked her cheek. He excused himself to leave them alone to their
gossip.

"Nicole,"
Regina said once he was gone, "if I were you, I would go and talk to the
Duke. That little witch Stacy Worthington has her eye on him—and if you're not
careful she'll get him, too!"

Nicole looked at her
sister frigidly. Thankfully Regina had not yet learned of the arrangements made
between the Duke and her father. "I do not care."

"He came
alone," Martha said. "But Stacy is definitely after him."

"Good. She can have
him." Nicole took another glass of sherry from a passing tray. Ladies
never had more than one drink, but she wasn't a lady, was she? She recalled
lying in Hadrian's arms upon his library floor yesterday and felt heat rise in
her cheeks. She knew he was staring at her. Perhaps he was remembering, too.
Unable to control herself, she turned to look at him. Their glances locked.

Stacy was trying to talk
to him, but he did not appear to be listening. Nicole thought about how he had
imperiously decided her fate. About how
he thought
he was going to
become her husband. About everything he had done. She gave him a very angry
glance. He nodded politely. It was then that Stacy noticed where his attention
was, and Nicole was satisfied to see her become a livid pink. Nicole turned
away.

"You can lie
through your teeth all day, Nicole, but I know how you feel," Martha
whispered.

Nicole saw that Regina
was about to speak, and she gave her a quelling look. Regina smiled somewhat
smugly. Just then two gentlemen paused beside them, politely greeting Martha.
Introductions were made all around, and Nicole realized with a start that Lord
Glaser was interested in her. "How are you tonight, Lady Shelton?"
Glaser asked.

Nicole replied politely
after recovering her senses. It had been a long time since a man had sought her
out in society. What had changed? She had not been out since the charity
picnic, excluding Elizabeth's wake and funeral. Was she suddenly considered
acceptable because the Duke had extended his protection to her? No one, of
course, knew of their engagement yet. And no one ever would, she thought
resolutely.

She caught Glaser
casting a glance at her person—the kind of look that Hadrian had sent her way a
hundred times. He quickly redressed his gaze, but Nicole was uncomfortable. She
didn't like to think it, but Hadrian's avid interest had never bothered her.

"I must say, I am
pleased you are here tonight, Lady Shelton. You brighten up things
considerably."

She had no choice but to
thank him.

"Will you be
staying in London for the rest of the season?"

"I doubt it,"
Nicole said awkwardly. He was interested in her, and she didn't know whether to
laugh or cry.

"You must
stay," Glaser said.

"I haven't decided
yet," Nicole said. She saw that Hadrian was watching them. She had never
been a flirt, and in truth, she didn't know how to be one. But she was suddenly
overwhelmed with the urge to try, even though she had always been scornful of
women who would stoop so low in order to make their beaux jealous.

She smiled at Lord
Glaser and looked him directly in the eye. "But, perhaps you can persuade
me." The moment the words were out, she knew they were too suggestive to
be coy. Martha looked horrified. Glaser was briefly stunned.

"I mean," she
blushed. "I mean, I am enjoying myself so, and ... oh, excuse me!"

She broke free of the
group, pushing through the crowd. She hadn't meant to be suggestive like that,
she hadn't meant it at all. She had only meant to flirt! But flirting was for
fools like Stacy Worthington! And now she was the one who had acted like a
fool!

Outside the salon the
corridor was empty, but she did not stop until she came to the powder room.
Fortunately it was empty and she hurried in, locking the door behind her.

Oh, what a faux pas!
She turned to regard herself in the
mirror and saw that she was still red with embarrassment. Could she have
possibly made a worse blunder?

Nicole swallowed and wet
a washcloth and moistened her face. When she was composed she left the powder
room, resolving to avoid Lord Glaser for the rest of the evening. She stepped
outside, and there he was, waiting for her.

He was a handsome man
and he was smiling. Nicole was frozen. "You should not have run
away," he said.

"My lord," she
said, "forgive me my slip of the tongue. I did not mean it the way it
sounded."

"Of course you did
not," he smiled again. She could not tell if he believed her or not. He
touched her gloved wrist lightly. "There is a ball Friday night at the
Abbots'. Would you care to accompany me?"

She was stunned at the
invitation. But she was not given a chance to answer.

"She will not
accompany you, Glaser," the Duke of Clayborough said. "And if you
don't take your hand off of her arm, I will remove it myself."

He had come up behind
them silently. Nicole jumped. Glaser was puzzled. "I beg your pardon, but
did I hear you correctly?"

"You heard me
correctly."

Nicole stared at
Hadrian. His handsome face looked as if it was carved in stone. Yet his eyes
were blazing as he gazed pointedly at Glaser's palm, resting so lightly upon
her arm. Glaser's grip tightened. "I am not allowed to invite the most beautiful
woman in London out? See here, you may be a Duke, you may outrank me, but that
does not give you special rights."

"I have every
right. My future wife will not be going with you to the Abbots' ball."

Glaser suddenly dropped
his hand. "I had no idea, Your Grace," he said quickly.