Innocence Lost (14 page)

Megan thought again of Nicholas and began to scan the crowded room. Most of the men in attendance wore masks or dominoes with their costumes. Was he behind one of those disguises? Perhaps he had yet to arrive. Oh, she hoped so. She wanted to dance with him, even if it would anger Julian. Or maybe he'd decided not to attend. She gripped the sides of her gown, her heart aching. Perhaps he decided to wash his hands of her for good. No.
No!
That couldn't happen. She would always love Nicholas, and no other could take his place in her heart. Even time wouldn't lessen the love she felt, just like it hadn't for Evie.

As the first notes of the quadrille sounded, Lord Michael Farrell guided her onto the dance floor. Why did she ever agree to tonight? She didn't want to be here if Nicholas wasn't. She missed a step. Lord Farrell smiled to let her know it didn't matter, but her cheeks burned with mortification. Everyone was watching. She had to dismiss all thoughts of Nicholas in order to concentrate on the dance steps. Even if it killed her.

The second dance was a gavotte, and she found it belonged to Jeremy Longwell. She frowned at Julian. He didn't have to accept the rogue's offer. As Jeremy took her arm, she looked for signs of Evie in the crowd. She did not want to upset her friend. The blasted song droned on. Megan concentrated on the steps, biting her lip when she nearly faltered.
Concentrate, Megan.
Finally, the dance ended, and Jeremy escorted her back to Julian with obvious reluctance.

"Are you able to dance another?” Julian asked when they were alone.

She saw the Duke of Huntington watching them. “I think I'll rest after the next one.” After all, how could she refuse a dance with their host?

"Excellent,” Julian replied, looking pleased. Very pleased. She had a sinking suspicion, but no time to ponder on it. The Duke of Huntington was approaching.

"My lady, may I have this dance?"

She smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.” As the duke led her to the dance floor, she glanced over her shoulder. Julian wore his scheming expression—the one that she had learned over the years meant trouble.

So preoccupied was she by trying to figure out what Julian was up to, she almost didn't hear what the duke was saying. “Why haven't I met you before now, my lady?"

"This is my first season, Your Grace."

He chuckled. “Actually, I was thinking of the parks and shops that, for years, Victoria has had me escort her to. Surely this isn't your first visit to London?"

Her cheeks heated. Did he think her unconventional? She wondered how he would react if he knew she would rather race through the meadow on the back of a horse than shop in the finest London stores. “No, I've visited many times. But I love the country and do not venture here very often. I am most uncomfortable around a myriad of people, as you may have already guessed, Your Grace."

"Then I shall turn everyone but you out this very minute."

She almost choked in surprise, then realized he was jesting. “That would be most unfair.” She tried to sound stern.

He grinned. “Not for me."

She grinned back, some of her nervousness diminishing. She rather liked His Grace. He produced none of the heart-pounding, toe-curling emotions Nicholas did, but he was very nice. Nicholas. She glanced around the room. Where could he be?

"What do you enjoy doing in the country?” he asked, moving them around another waltzing couple.

"I love to ride—"

"You like horses?"

She nodded. “Very much."

"Then I must invite you to see mine. There are many different breeds, but all are the most exquisite of their kind.” He pulled her a bit closer, his face turning serious. “You could say that when I see an exquisite creature, I make certain it becomes my own."

It took several seconds for his meaning to sink in. Megan sucked in a breath and moved back a fraction. His brows rose. She could tell the duke wasn't used to a lady's reluctance. “Your sister seems very nice, Your Grace. I think we shall become good friends."

He smiled. “Torie said the exact same thing about you,” he said as the last notes of the waltz hung in the air.

As he escorted her back to her brother, she noticed quite a few gentlemen lined up behind Julian. They weren't all waiting to dance with her, were they? She rather hoped not. She fiddled with her fan, trying to think of some plausible excuse for leaving. Would Julian believe she had a headache?

"Would you like a rest, Moppet?"

Not caring if Prinny himself was next in line, she nodded. “Yes. My feet are about to fall off."

"Would you care for some refreshment, my lady?"

She glanced at the duke. “Why, yes, Your Grace, that would be wonderful."

Seeing a smile on her brother's face as the duke departed, she sighed. He was up to something, all right. She saw Evie a short distance away talking to Victoria, and recalled Julian was friends with Lord Fielding. “Jules, exactly what happened between Lord Fielding and Evelyn Thornton?"

"How on earth did you learn about that?” He held up his hands. “Never mind, I don't want to know,” he said with a small chuckle.

"I cannot recall much since I was at sea,” he continued, “but I think that their fathers had arranged the marriage without Jeremy's knowledge. When she told him, he was furious and decreed that the agreement was void since both fathers had died before she was of age. He further maintained that since no contract existed with her current guardian's signature, he wasn't obligated to marry her.” He paused and cocked his brow. “The girl really should be grateful, though. Jeremy would make a terrible husband."

That was a blatant hint if ever she heard one. “Don't worry, brother dear, he will never be in consideration."

"Good. There are others much more suitable.” He glanced at the Duke of Huntington as he spoke.

Nicholas cursed as he stumbled in the darkness. He waded through the bushes, groaning when his shoe landed in a mud hole, and sneaked closer to the window. He smacked his shin against the stone ledge and bit back a howl. No one could know what he was up to. After giving his throbbing shin a good rub, he glanced into the bustling ballroom. The musicians plucked away at their instruments and dancers in colorful costumes swished and twirled around the floor. He scanned the faces, hoping to find her. Maybe she wore a mask?

A couple exited the house. The girl giggled as the man whispered in her ear. Nicholas moved further into the bush. The moon cast enough light to reveal his location. He couldn't allow someone to see him. The pair walked down the path to the garden, oblivious of their surroundings. He released his breath and turned back to the window.

Where the deuce was she?

The musicians struck up a waltz and he saw Megan. One of Lord Marshley's punches to the gut would not have been as strong as what hit him at that moment. God, how he wanted to march into the house, grab her hand, and take her away. Certainly take her from all the admiring eyes glued to her.

He watched Huntington lead her to the dance floor. He gnashed his teeth. Did the bastard have to hold her so close? She said something Huntington found amusing and Nicholas had to glance away. His heart thundered in his chest and he had a hard time drawing breath. God, why couldn't that be him dancing with her? Of course, Julian had a great deal to do with that. But what of Megan? He watched her smile and he gripped a piece of brick. Had she already forgotten him?

Nicholas wanted to leave, but he couldn't. He had to stay and watch her. Thankfully, one of his footmen had a cousin who worked for Kenbrook and could inform him of every invitation Julian accepted. Nicholas pulled up his collar against the chilly air and continued to watch her. This would be a long night, he thought. One of many to come.

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On the carriage ride back to the townhouse, Megan gazed out into the darkness. Nicholas hadn't shown up. Her stomach clenched and she closed her eyes. Why did he stay away? Did he care nothing for her? Oh, why did she have to love him so?

Julian took her hands. “Did you have a good time tonight?"

"I had a grand time, Jules.” She pulled her hands free.

"Then why are you so melancholy? Didn't the Duke of Huntington pay you enough attention?” he jeered.

She felt her cheeks bloom with color and nudged her brother's knee. “Julian, will you not tease me, please?"

"You know I can't resist, dear heart. But there is nary a finer man in all of England than Daniel Claiborne."

"He seems very nice,” she agreed quietly.

From the corner of her eye, she watched her brother purse his lips and lean back against the seat. He folded his arms over his broad chest. “But he's not Nicholas Bradshaw."

Her eyes filled with tears. No, he wasn't. Her one true love would forever be Nicholas. “This isn't easy for me, Jules, but I am trying."

Julian cupped her cheek. “I know it isn't, sweet,” he said as a tear slid from her eye and rolled down his hand. Then he pulled her close.

Although she loved her brother to distraction, she wished he wouldn't smother her so. She'd even grown to dislike his pet name for her. He treated her like a child and she detested that. He also hated Nicholas. Their mutual hatred must be the reason Nicholas stayed away. She squeezed her eyes shut. Or he had figured out she wasn't right for him after all. Had he given up on her?

The next two weeks were much the same for Megan. Invitation after invitation poured in and she attended the various galas with numb endurance.

Julian declared that she was “The Preeminent One of the Season,” yet still insisted Daniel Claiborne was the best choice for her. Although she held a great fondness for Daniel, she didn't feel a massive flood of joy grip her whenever he was near, the way she did with Nicholas. With Nicholas, magic filled the air. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her made her forget the world existed. She would never have that with anyone else.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to force her mind to think of something else. The miserable cur had forgotten her. She hadn't seen or heard from him in almost three weeks, since she was attacked at the dock. How would she ever get over him?

She opened her eyes and looked out the front parlor windows to find Upper Brook Street congested, as usual. Many came to the townhouse to see her, but Julian allowed only a few to speak to her. He was able to keep most of the suitors from her presence, but he couldn't check the traffic.

Turning from the windows, she sighed. How she longed to ride one of her horses instead of going mad with boredom.

"Pardon me, my lady, but Lord Julian would like to see you in the study,” Wentworth announced from the doorway.

"You wanted to see me, Julian?” Megan asked as she entered the room.

"Yes. And I have some wonderful news, dear sister,” he said.

"What is it?” she asked, unable to remember the last time she saw her brother so happy.

"First of all, the
Sweet Siren
will depart tomorrow to fetch our parents. They're probably on their way back, but I'll send the ship anyway."

"Oh, Julian, that's wonderful.” She rounded the desk and threw her arms around his neck.

"But that's not all of the good news, sweetling,” he announced when she released him. He lifted a large stack of papers from the desk. “I hold in my hands many offers for your hand in marriage, dear sister. It's time you made your choice."

Megan's stomach pooled down to her toes. Her knees went weak. She was going to swoon. She never swooned. Her breath came forth in choppy gasps. She turned and wrapped her arms around her middle to warm her suddenly chilled body. She couldn't marry someone. Unless that someone was Nicholas.

Julian's hand settled on her shoulder. “Wouldn't you even like to know who has proposed?” he asked. He chuckled. “Actually, it would be easier to name the few who haven't."

She gazed into the murkiness of the barren fireplace, eyes unfocused, and remembered Nicholas loving her. She saw the fervency in his eyes as he declared she would always be his, she saw his concern when the carriage nearly crashed, and she saw him hold her to his heart after the incident by the dock. Then she saw his complete absence from her life for the last three weeks.

She turned to her brother and held out her hands for the papers. She read the first one and shook her head. She refused the next as well. She read and refused dozens. Most of them, she barely remembered. Some, not at all.

She came finally to the last offer. She read it, then hastily looked at her brother. “Did you ask him to do this?"

She'd heard many rumors that the Duke of Huntington had no wish to marry yet. That was why she'd felt so comfortable around the man. She had thought it safe.

"Of course not. Daniel acted alone. The man is captivated by you, darling. Promise me you'll give his offer some serious consideration."

She sighed. “I promise.” Although she didn't love Daniel, she held a great fondness for him. She supposed if she had to marry someone other than Nicholas, it would be the Duke of Huntington, Daniel Claiborne.

Megan fled the study before she burst into tears. How could she possibly consider marriage to anyone other than Nicholas?

She didn't sleep that night. By the time the sun rose, she had decided she needed to see Nicholas one last time before she made such a life-altering decision. She needed to hear the reason for his sudden absence from her life. She had to know if Julian was right about him. Just as she'd conjured up enough nerve to see Nicholas, she found Julian had other arrangements. At breakfast, he announced that the Duke of Huntington wished them to visit his country estate and view his prized horses.

"How long does he wish us to stay?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Inside, she trembled. How would she get the chance to talk to Nicholas being that far away?

"I'm not sure. My guess would be a week. You'll love it, Moppet. It's almost as beautiful as our estate, and he has more horses.” He raised his brows. “Did he, perchance, mention them to you?"

"Yes, I believe he did,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm. “How far must we travel?"