Читать книгу Blackwood's Lady - Gail Whitiker, Gail Whitiker - Страница 7

Animals? David glanced at Nicola sharply as a memory of her father’s earlier words about the mighty buck suddenly sprang to mind. ‘I take it you are referring to…pets.’

Nicola paused for a moment. Was she? In truth, Alistair was as endearing as the two black puppies, so she was not telling him a complete falsehood. And Guinevere was extremely well behaved…for a falcon.

She smiled with what she hoped was conviction. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

‘Then rest assured I have no objection to your keeping pets,’ David said as the vision of the mighty buck was replaced by that of a small, fluffy lap-dog. ‘In fact, I have several dogs of my own.’

Nicola’s smile faded. ‘Foxhounds?’

‘Sheepdogs, actually. Big, lumbering brutes, but as gentle as kittens. Have you a dog of your own, perhaps, that you would like to bring to Ridley Hall?’

‘I recently acquired two puppies,’ Nicola told him, avoiding, for a moment, any reference to the other members of the menagerie, ‘which I believe to be about six weeks old.’

‘And you would prefer not to leave them here.’

‘I confess, I have grown rather attached to them.’

‘Then by all means bring them along. They will make admirable company for my own. What breed are they?’

‘Spaniels.’

David began to smile. ‘Didn’t get them from old Lord Hartley by chance, did you?’

Nicola shook her head sadly. ‘I found them down by the river. I was…too late to save the rest of the litter.’

‘Too late to—’ Abruptly, David broke off as he realized what she was saying. ‘Oh, I see. Not purebred, then.’

Nicola raised wide green eyes to his face. ‘No, they are not, but surely that is no reason for doing away with them in such a cruel and heartless manner.’

‘It would be to a man like Hartley.’

Nicola flinched at Blackwood’s offhand reply. ‘Would it be reason enough for you, my lord?’

David hesitated, sensing the need to tread carefully with his new fiancée on what was obviously a very delicate subject. ‘I have never been one for the indiscriminate taking of life, Nicola, but I can understand the rationale behind a man taking certain precautions to ensure the purity of the line.’

‘Then I suggest he should have taken more care in the breeding of the dog in the first place,’ Nicola said heatedly, well aware that animal husbandry was an inappropriate subject for a gently reared lady to be discussing.

It seemed that Lord Blackwood was in complete agreement. ‘Well, I think that is enough said about the subject. You are welcome to bring the dogs along, Nicola, whatever their…parentage. Now, shall we call your father in and give him the good news?’

There was a slight reserve to his tone and, realizing that it would serve no useful purpose to protest further, Nicola graciously acquiesced. She did not wish to anger David over someone else’s shortcomings, nor did she see that there was anything to be gained by doing so. It was enough that he was agreeable to her bringing her puppies along. And so, with a smile upon her face, Nicola rose with David to greet her father and to share their happy news with him.

It was not until some time later, as Nicola watched her fiancé disappear down the drive in his gleaming black and gold carriage, that she had time to think back over the events of the past hour and to marvel at how significantly her life had changed. She was now the fiancée of the Marquis of Blackwood. Quite an achievement in a society where matches were made solely for the betterment of financial or social standing.

But what kind of life had she committed herself to? Nicola wondered silently. She was not in love with David, nor he with her. But her father approved of the match, and she respected Lord Blackwood for the man she knew him to be. Was that not reason enough to accept his offer?

Not really, Nicola admitted to herself on a sigh. And she wouldn’t have, had it not been for that brief and totally unexpected moment of softening, when David had spoken to her with humility in his voice and just a trace of wistfulness in his eye. Almost as though he regretted that theirs would not be a marriage of two hearts.

That was what had changed her mind about Lord Blackwood, and made her look at him differently. Maybe he did care about the importance of feelings between two people, Nicola decided charitably. Maybe he wasn’t the staid, reserved aristocrat that most people accused him of being. Maybe it was simply that no one had ever taught the very upright Lord Blackwood how to laugh.

The announcement of the engagement of the Marquis of Blackwood to the Lady Nicola Wyndham duly appeared in The Times the following week, and, as Sir Giles had predicted, there arose from the marriageable ladies of the ton—or, rather, from their mamas—a sigh of disappointment that could be heard from one end of London to the other. From one drawing room in the country, however, there was only the sound of delighted laughter as the good news was received and celebrated.

‘Well, my dear, you have certainly achieved the match of the season!’ Glynnis, Lady Dorchester, told her niece in a tone of supreme satisfaction. ‘And I, for one, could not be happier. I had begun to despair of Blackwood ever settling down. Lord knows, he has been as slippery as an eel these past few years. But, without even trying, you have caught him in your net and brought him home. Well done, my dear, well done!’

‘Thank you, Aunt Glynn, although I don’t know that he is any the less elusive now,’ Nicola told her aunt with a smile. ‘He merely slipped in long enough to propose before slipping right out again. I have not seen him this sennight.’

‘Well, that is not such a bad thing,’ said Lady Dorchester complacently. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know.’

‘Perhaps, but it would have been nice had Lord Blackwood stayed around long enough to give me something to grow fond of,’ Nicola observed dryly. ‘I can hardly miss a man I know nothing about.’

Lady Dorchester glanced at her niece shrewdly. ‘I take it this is not a love match, then?’

‘Oh, dear, no, far from it.’ Nicola laughed as she recalled the wording of the marquis’s proposal. ‘Lord Blackwood was very straightforward when it came to telling me exactly what he expected in the future marchioness.’

‘And that is?’

‘A sensible woman not prone to giddiness, frivolity or…unacceptable behaviour I believe was how he phrased it. He also assured me that he would be a good husband and father, and that I would want for nothing.’

‘Admirable sentiments, to my way of thinking.’

‘And Papa believes it to be an advantageous match.’

‘And so it is, my dear!’ Lady Dorchester agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Lord Blackwood is one of the wealthiest men in London, not to mention one of the most handsome. I admit, he may not be as light-hearted as some of the gentlemen his age, but then, he has always been something of a serious lad, and he grew even more so after his dear mother died. He never really took to his father’s second wife, you see. Rumour has it that he blamed her for his father’s death.’

‘Oh, dear, I had no idea,’ Nicola said, biting her lip. ‘But I know so little of Lord Blackwood.’

‘Which is hardly surprising, given your extended absence from Town,’ Lady Dorchester said. ‘However, we cannot overlook the fact that you have been extremely fortunate, Nicki. And I feel sure that once Lord Blackwood is happily married you will see a considerable change in his disposition. So, when and where is the wedding to take place?’

‘I’m not sure. Lord Blackwood mentioned having the ceremony at the family chapel at Ridley Hall, but I rather had my heart set on St Andrew’s, where Mama and Papa were married. Unfortunately, he had to return to London before we were able to come to a decision.’

‘Well, no doubt you shall be able to settle it the next time he comes to Wyndham. Now, we must start making plans for your betrothal ball. And I will not take no for an answer,’ Lady Dorchester said firmly, as Nicola went to object. ‘Your father and I have already discussed it, and he has assured me of his complete cooperation. That is why we are going to hold the ball at Wyndham rather than here at Doring Cross. Given the number of people I intend to invite, Doring would hardly be large enough.’

‘But it is such a lot of work, Aunt,’ Nicola said guiltily.

‘I am well aware of that, my dear, but, in truth, I am looking forward to it. I was not fortunate enough to have children of my own, and if I cannot do something like this for my own daughter, at least let me do it for my sister’s child. I know this is what Elizabeth would have wanted for you.’

It was probably the best argument she could have employed, and thus appealed to, Nicola could not find it in her heart to say no. ‘Well, if you are sure, but—oh, upon my word! Champagne?’ she exclaimed as the door to the drawing room opened and the butler came in with a silver tray.

‘Well, of course. It isn’t every day my favourite niece becomes engaged to the Marquis of Blackwood, and I think such a momentous occasion warrants a special celebration. Besides, I have had precious little else to celebrate these last few months.’

Nicola’s green eyes softened and, impulsively, she leaned forward to kiss her aunt’s smooth, unlined cheek. ‘Dear Aunt Glynn. You really should start moving about in Society again. Uncle Bart has been gone these three years, and you are far too lovely to shut yourself away. I know that you could find another husband if you only set your mind to it.’

‘In all honesty, I am not sure that I wish to, Nicki.’ Lady Dorchester’s expression grew suddenly wistful. ‘Your uncle and I were together for over fourteen years, and, frankly, I am not sure that I could adjust to having a new gentleman under foot—if I could even find one who would have me. A younger man will be looking for a woman to give him sons, whereas an older man will be looking for a pretty young thing to parade about Town on his arm. And at six-and-thirty I am neither one nor the other. I seem to fall into that…grey area in between.’

‘Fiddlesticks. You are far too young and lovely to think of yourself as part of any grey area,’ Nicola scolded her aunt affectionately. ‘And I know that any number of gentlemen would tell you so, if you were but willing to listen.’

Lady Dorchester patted her niece’s hand. ‘You are a dear child, Nicola. And I would be lying if I said there were not certain things I miss about being married, especially to a man one is truly in love with.’ Her eyes crinkled around the edges. ‘The Duchess of Basilworth is forever telling me that I should take a chèr ami.’

Nicola gasped, and then started to laugh. ‘Never!’

‘Oh, yes. And she is quite serious.’

‘No doubt she is. The duchess has been known to make some outrageous statements. But would you really consider doing such a thing, Aunt?’

Lady Dorchester looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook her head. ‘I think not. As exciting as the idea may be, one seldom finds happiness with such a man. They are usually either married, or considered too much a rake or roué to be so, and I, for one, have no desire to throw my heart away on someone I can neither have nor trust. Oh, dear, have I embarrassed you?’ Lady Dorchester asked, noticing the sudden rosy hue in her niece’s cheeks.

‘Not at all.’ Nicola was quick to assure her. ‘I was merely thinking about something I overheard at Lady Rumbolt’s soirée the other evening.’

‘Dear me, it must have been something very interesting to make you blush so.’

‘Yes, it was.’

Lady Dorchester waited expectantly, then prompted, ‘Well?’

Nicola bit her lip. ‘I am not at all sure it is an appropriate topic for me to be discussing.’

‘Why don’t you tell me and allow me to make that decision?’

Nicola laughed self-consciously, then said, ‘Very well. Is it true, Aunt, that…a married lady should not mind if her husband goes elsewhere for…well, that is, for his—?’

‘Thank you, Nicola; I think I can figure the rest of it out,’ Lady Dorchester said abruptly, even as her blue eyes began to sparkle. ‘My word, that was quite a conversation you overheard. However, I will give you the benefit of my opinion, by saying that, yes, a wife should most definitely mind if her husband looks elsewhere for his…pleasures. Love between a man and his wife can be a wonderful thing, Nicola. And, if you are fortunate enough to really love your husband, the thought of his going elsewhere will cause you more misery than you can imagine. Unfortunately, all too often, women look upon…certain aspects of marriage as an unpleasant task, a duty that must be borne stoically and in silence, refusing to believe that, with a little effort on their part, they could actually come to enjoy it. And I’ll wager you’ll not hear that whispered in the drawing rooms of Society,’ she added dryly.

Nicola looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Then such feelings can exist within a marriage, if one but makes the effort.’

‘Oh, yes, indeed. Mark my words, Nicki: if you want a happy marriage, make the effort to please your husband,’ Lady Dorchester urged her. ‘I give you my promise, it will be well worth it in the long run. For both of you!’

In London, David attended to the business of his upcoming nuptials with the same efficiency that he employed in matters concerning the running of his estates. He spent an afternoon with his secretary, dictating letters and issuing instructions, and generally whittling down the pile of correspondence which had accumulated during his brief absence. The pink, highly scented letters from his mistress he burned without reading. He had warned Yvette time without number not to address correspondence to his home, but she had not paid him the slightest heed.

Probably because it was not intellect the darling Yvette was renowned for.

Fortunately, his desire for the pretty ballet dancer had long since begun to wane—as had his interest in any kind of casual encounter—so it was not with a deep feeling of regret that David left her cosy little house that night, after bidding her a final adieu. In spite of the tears, he had no doubt that she would recover quickly from her grief. In fact, he fully expected that she would have a new gentleman in her bed by this time tomorrow night.

From there, he headed to St James’s to enjoy a few quiet hours at his club. He was not at all surprised to find his uncle already reposed in a comfortable chair by the fire, a glass of port in one hand, a copy of The Gentleman’s Quarterly in the other.

‘Evening, Uncle Giles.’

Sir Giles looked up, and his face brightened considerably. ‘David, my boy, thank God you’re back. Place has been as quiet as a tomb without you.’ The baronet folded his paper and signalled to the waiter for another glass. ‘So, tell me, how did Lady Nicola react to your proposal? Did she say yes right off?’

David settled back into the comfortable leather armchair next to his uncle, and crossed one ankle over the other. ‘Not exactly. As it turned out, she had a few questions of her own.’

‘Did she indeed? Brave girl. I doubt many others would have had the courage to quiz you about anything other than how soon you would start showering them with the fabulous Blackwood diamonds.’

David chuckled softly. ‘I admit, I was slightly taken aback when she asked me why I wanted to marry her.’

‘The devil! And what did you tell her?’

‘That I was looking for a sensible woman, and that in return she would want for nothing.’

‘Did she think that an appropriate reply?’

‘She must have. She agreed to marry me.’

Sir Giles studied his nephew thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if she will not be quite as biddable as you think, David.’

Briefly reminded of the flash of determination in Nicola’s eyes when she had asked about bringing along her river-salvaged pups, David couldn’t help but wonder himself. What would she have said, he wondered, had he refused to allow her to keep the mongrels?

But then, recalling the look of pleasure on her face when he had sat down beside her, and the way her eyes had fluttered closed when he had kissed her cheek, he wondered whether the other was all that important. While he wasn’t looking for an argumentative wife, neither did he wish to spend his life with a whey-faced young miss who would bow to his every whim. A certain amount of spirit was admirable. A certain amount.

‘No, all things considered, I think Nicola and I shall suit,’ David said, surprised at how content the statement made him feel. ‘Time I gave up this bachelor existence anyway.’

Sir Giles’s lips twitched. ‘All of it?’

‘All of it. I have given Yvette her congé in the form of a flashy ruby bracelet—’

‘Which no doubt helped to ease the pain of parting.’

David laughed. ‘No doubt. And I sent a note round to Belle, advising her of my intentions to marry.’

‘Ah, yes, the fair Arabella.’ Sir Giles hesitated, wishing to phrase his question diplomatically. ‘Do you think she will be disturbed by the news?’

‘I see no reason why she should be. Belle was kind enough to act as my hostess when I required one, and I was grateful for her efforts, but I hardly think she will feel put out when she learns that she is to be displaced by the woman I rightfully intend to marry!’

‘So, Blackwood is finally planning to wed, eh?’ the rotund Lady Fayne commented as she accepted a cup of tea from her hostess. ‘About time too, if you ask me.’

Lady Mortimer sniffed disparagingly. ‘Should have married years ago. Doesn’t do to keep so many young ladies holding out hopes. Know anything about the gel?’

Arabella Braithwaite stirred a small spoonful of sugar into her tea and then sat back against the richly upholstered cushions of the gold damask settee, her lovely features arranged in a mask of amiability. ‘Not really, other than that she spends a good deal of time in the country.’

‘Lovely girl, though,’ Mrs Harper-Burton put in kindly. ‘I recall seeing her at Almack’s years ago. They made almost as much fuss over her come-out as they did yours, Belle.’

‘Still, the announcement must have come as something of a shock,’ the Duchess of Basilworth said loftily. She smiled at the beautifully gowned woman across from her with a modicum of pity. ‘I suppose you will have to resign yourself to playing a much smaller part in Lord Blackwood’s life from now on. He will hardly need you acting as his hostess when he has a wife of his own.’

‘Perhaps, but just because Lord Blackwood has a wife does not mean I shall no longer have occasion to see him, Your Grace,’ Arabella said sweetly. ‘We are cousins after all, and no doubt his wife will appreciate my being there to help smooth her transition back into London Society. I understand that she has been keeping a very low profile since putting off her blacks.’

‘Oh, Belle, how generous of you,’ Mrs Harper-Burton said. ‘I thought you might have been…well, resentful of another woman taking your place.’

‘Taking her place. Really, Clara!’ the Duchess of Basilworth snapped. ‘How can Arabella be resentful of someone taking a place which was never hers to begin with?’

‘Indeed,’ Arabella said lightly. ‘I merely came to Lord Blackwood’s aid at a dinner party, and, much to my surprise, he asked for my help at his next one. I really just…slipped into the role.’

‘Well, you are just going to have to slip right back out of it again,’ the Duchess said smugly. ‘I am sure the future Lady Blackwood will not be looking for assistance in domestic matters. I understand she is a sensible young woman. No doubt she will be able to hire a competent staff to attend to such matters.’

Arabella’s smile never faltered. ‘Yes, I am sure she will. More tea, anyone?’

The conversation moved off into other areas and the topic of Lord Blackwood’s upcoming nuptials was forgotten. But as soon as the ladies took their leave and Arabella was left alone the scowl which had appeared on her face upon receiving her cousin’s note abruptly reappeared, wiping out all traces of her earlier complacency.

How could David spring the news on her like that! He had never even made mention of the fact that he was thinking of getting married, and here he was, engaged to some country chit, without so much as a private word to her beforehand. Did he care nothing for her feelings?

Arabella stood up and began to pace the room with the fury of a caged tigress. It was simply too galling! True, there had never been anything of a romantic nature between them, but Arabella had always hoped that, given time, their relationship might develop into something…warmer. But that wasn’t likely to happen now. Because David was replacing her with a wife. His politely worded letter, thanking her for everything she had done, and assuring her that they would continue to see each other on a social basis, did nothing to lessen her humiliation. She had not just imagined the pity in the Duchess of Basilworth’s beady eyes this afternoon. It had been there, as plain as day. The old biddy had been laughing at her; enjoying her fall from grace, as it were.

Well, David wasn’t married yet, Arabella reminded herself, and, until he was, she intended to make very sure that she did not slip quietly into the background. Her cousin was a stickler for propriety, and he would expect his wife, as the future marchioness, to behave in a no less honourable fashion—the way Arabella herself had taken pains to behave every time she had been in his company. Duty meant everything to David and, given that Arabella had heard some very interesting stories about the late Countess of Wyndham, and about the daughter who was rumoured to have inherited some of the mother’s more eccentric qualities, Arabella decided that she would be well advised to stay close to the proceedings. If Nicola Wyndham put a foot wrong, Arabella wanted to be there to point it out.

She wasn’t going to lose David without a fight. And she intended to make very sure that the ladies all laughed on the other side of their faces before this was over!