A Rival Heir (25 page)

They were interrupted by the nursery maid bringing Walter for a visit, and no more was said on the subject. But Emily's eyes flashed when he left her with her son some time later, and he wondered if she could possibly be right.

Chapter Eighteen

Nell found that her aunt's mood had not improved significantly the next morning when they met at the breakfast table. The older woman stared balefully at her companion and demanded, "What did you say to Westwick to induce him to settle a fortune on you?"

"Now, aunt, you know I would never discuss such a thing with Lord Westwick."

"But you've been spending time with him, haven't you, behind my back?"

"I believe I told you that without an explanation as to why I should repudiate him, I would not hold myself to obey your command on the subject."

Rosemarie snorted. "And had you known that he had broken his promise to me, would you then have been willing to cut him?"

Nell considered for a moment. "Well, it has always been clear to me that he is, in general, a kind and generous man, aunt. I would have been hard pressed to change that opinion, for one act, however reprehensible, in the distant past."

"No loyalty, that's your problem. His one reprehensible act was against me, your own aunt. That should weigh most heavily with you."

Nell nodded. "Perhaps it would have, had you explained. But you chose not to."

"I value my privacy."

"You certainly didn't seem to value your privacy at the assembly rooms last night."

Her aunt grunted. "Last night was my revenge on Westwick."

"It will certainly make his position in Bath difficult."

"As it should be. He has never had to suffer for his behavior."

"Oh, I doubt that, Aunt Longstreet. I imagine Lord Westwick has suffered a great deal for his decision. He's that kind of man, one who could not break an important societal rule without suffering the consequences. But he would do so quietly, not allowing his pain to be inflicted on others."

"Bah! You make him sound like a saint, Helen. Let me assure you he is not. He placed me in a distressing position, and my father only made matters more difficult."

"I understand that. What I'm saying is that Lord Westwick has perhaps tried to be a better person because of his mistakes as a young man."

"You only think that because he is settling a great deal of money on you."

Nell laughed. "You may be right. Aunt, are you aware that grandfather, when he was dying, made me promise to stay with you always?"

Her aunt set down knife and fork and stared at her niece. "Are you telling me that the only reason you've stayed with me is because of a promise to my father?"

"Of course not. I'm asking you if you knew of that promise. I would very much like to have an answer to my question."

Rosemarie regained her knife and fork and asked, "Why?"

"It's important to me."

"Hmmm. He may have said something of the sort, that you would stay with me. But it never occurred to me that you would go anywhere else."

"You didn't expect me to marry?"

"Of course not. How were you to meet anyone, and without a dowry, who would ally themselves with you?"

Nell sighed. "But, aunt, don't you see how unfair that was to me?"

"Nonsense. You were being given a home and a family."

Nell decided no further attempt at bringing her aunt to an understanding was worth the effort. "Tell me, aunt. Do you consider me to be bound by my promise to your father?"

"Why wouldn't you be?" her aunt demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I have always considered myself bound," Nell said thoughtfully. "Though I must admit that I did not make the promise entirely freely. I made it because your father was dying and demanded it of me. I did it to ease his mind, and because he had taken me in, even though I believe it was you who had truly accomplished that feat."

"My father, myself, what difference did it make? A bit self-serving to quibble about it at this late date."

"So, you expect me to spend the rest of your life with you, even if you decide to marry Lord Westwick?"

"Whether or not I marry Westwick has nothing to do with you."

"Does it not? You picture the three of us living together at Longstreet Manor?"

"I don't picture anything, missy. You made a promise and you must abide by it."

"I see."

Nell continued eating her breakfast, her mind awhirl with thoughts, arguments and speculations. But she was determined to know her own mind before she brought any of these ideas out into the light of day. Perhaps, after all, they would not be tested.

* * * *

The afternoon had turned blustery by the time Nell made her way across Queen Square toward Milsom Street. In her basket she carried two library books and a swatch of fabric her aunt wanted thread to match.

No one except Emily had come to call the whole day, which both surprised and disappointed Nell. Emily herself had been bursting with the news of her husband's secret mission and if she knew of the various other developments in Nell's life, she did not let on. The two had chatted comfortably about all manner of things, but Sir Hugh's name had not come up. Emily had, however, renewed her offer to have Nell come to live with them, and Nell had, as before, thanked her and said that it was impossible.

As she hurried along now, the wind tugging at her skirts, she thought of stopping to order another dress from Madame de Vigne but could not quite bring herself do so. Though so much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, there was little evidence of change. Was her life to go on much as before, except that she would have a bigger allowance? Was she bound to Aunt Longstreet until the older woman died? And would that really matter?

* * * *

Sir Hugh saw Nell just as she was about to enter the circulating library. When he signaled that he wished her to wait for him, she looked as though she might slip into the building instead. As he came up to her he exclaimed, "I was on my way to Queen Square, Nell! I would have a word with you in private if I might."

"I have a few errands to accomplish, if you wish to accompany me," she suggested, lowering her gaze. "The library first."

"Of course."

He followed her into the building and up the stairs to the very place where he had first seen her, caught between his overbearing godmother and the long-suffering librarian. He had tried to deflect attention onto himself, thinking the poor young woman would be incapable of handling the situation. But he had found Nell more than capable of standing up to her aunt.

The librarian smiled at her now, calling them both by name, and offering any service of which he might be capable. Nell assured him she had nothing more than a pair of books to return.

"I have put aside for you another novel by the lady who wrote
Mansfield Park
," he whispered when Nell leaned forward to hand him the books. "I knew you would be pleased."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Bentley. How kind." Nell smiled conspiratorially and slipped the volumes into her basket. "I shall be certain to return them as soon as I am finished."

"Take your time, take your time," he begged her. "With so much as there is to do in Bath, I know one's reading time is limited."

Hugh was not surprised by the admiring gleam in the librarian's eyes. He could only hope it had no more influence on Nell than the brisk breeze which met them on their descent back into Milsom Street.

"More errands?" he asked, a quizzical tone to his voice.

"Just one more. I wish to match some thread for my aunt."

"Stokers, then," he suggested and placed her hand on his arm. She looked up at him with such a sweet, tentative expression on her face that he ached to kiss her right there in the street. Instead, he said gruffly, "I take it Miss Longstreet is not unduly impressed by your change in circumstances."

"Oh, no. She expects we will go on much as we have, I believe."

Hugh's brow drew down. "And what do you expect?"

"I hardly know. Aunt Longstreet will not even tell me what she plans to do about Lord Westwick’s offer."

"Do you think she'll have him?"

"No. I think she will prefer to go on as we have."

Hugh was thunderstruck. "But, Nell, you cannot mean you will stay with her."

His companion sighed. "I believe I told you about my promise to my grandfather."

"She means to hold you to it, does she?"

Nell nodded, but she had turned her head away so that Hugh could not see her eyes.

"And you intend to make the best of that, as you have of everything else in your life?" he demanded.

"Did you hear Emily's news, about her husband?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Nell. This is important. Miss Longstreet can't hold you to a promise you made to her father on his deathbed."

"I doubt there is a more sacred promise than one made to a dying person," she returned. "It is surely as compelling as a promise of marriage, such as Lord Westwick made to her."

"And, in this case, just as despicably held to." His eyes flashed. "You read her letters, Nell. The earl attempted to get her to free him of his promise, and she would not do it, though it must have been perfectly obvious to her--and perhaps to her family--that he had changed his mind."

"Yes." Nell regarded him steadily for a moment. "Sir Hugh, you mustn't fret on my behalf. I shall be perfectly content to stay at Longstreet Manor."

"Nonsense! You... you should be thinking of marriage."

"Should I?" She paused on the pavement before Stokers and smiled pertly at him. "And who should I be thinking of marrying?"

"Me!" What a muff he was making of this, declaring himself in the middle of the street in Bath. But her face softened and she sighed. "Thank you. I would that it were possible."

"Well, it is possible," he insisted. "I know I should have spoken before, Nell, but I wanted to see this matter of my godmother and Lord Westwick cleared up first, and now everything has crashed in at once. You mustn't think that the change in your circumstances has anything to do with my offer, for it hasn't."

"Of course not," she agreed, readily enough. "But there is no change in one very important aspect of my circumstances. So, we will speak no more of the matter."

With this, she pushed open the door of Stokers' store and entered. A very annoying bell tinkled raucously for some moments as Hugh tried to gather his thoughts together. She had turned him down. Was her promise merely an excuse?

Nell headed directly to the display of threads, pulling a swatch of fabric from her basket. Hugh hadn't realized how many variations of color there would be, with spools lined up in two drawers. Nell bent to consider a section where blue and green threads proliferated. Hugh came to stand behind her.

"If Miss Longstreet were to free you from your promise...," he began.

"She won't." Nell placed the swatch of cloth beside one of the spools, but the thread was too dark.

"Nell, it isn't fair of her to hold you to it."

"No. Aunt Longstreet is not always fair."

"Then you will have to break your promise."

She regarded him with solemn eyes. "I can't do that, Hugh."

"But you must!"

She smiled sadly but did not answer. Picking up another spool of thread, she compared it to her fabric, and set it down again.

"Your grandfather did not envision the change in your circumstances. He didn't even know for certain of your... well, you understand," he said, glancing around the shop to see if anyone was within earshot. There was no one else in the shop at all except the shopkeeper, who was busy refolding some untidy bolts of cloth at the far end of the room. "Nell, he would have wished you to have a life of your own."

"No, he wouldn't. He was just as self-absorbed and uncaring as Aunt Longstreet."

Hugh grimaced. "Yes, I remember. Well, then he had no business extracting such a promise from you."

"Perhaps not, but he did. I can't change that, Hugh." She picked up another spool of thread, matched it and said, "This one will do."

When she had paid for her purchase and dropped it into her basket, they turned their footsteps in the direction of Queen Square. Hugh tried once again. "Nell, no one would hold it against you if you broke such a disagreeable and unfair promise. In fact, no one would even know."

"You would know, and I would know, and Aunt Longstreet would know. Even Emily would know. You're the most important people in my life, and you would all know that I hadn't kept a promise merely because it was inconvenient for me."

"Inconvenient! Heaven help us, it is a great deal more than inconvenient. And, Nell, you have seen what Lord Westwick did in the same circumstances. His own happiness was more important to him than his honor."

"No, the happiness of his beloved was more important to him, Hugh. If it had been merely his own happiness, I do not think he would have broken his promise."

"And isn't my happiness important to you?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

"I... I don't think... It's not the same."

"Isn't it? You don't truly believe in my love for you, do you, Nell?"

"I... Of course I do. It is just..."

"Then it is your own love for me which you don't trust."

"No!" Nell's cheeks flushed hotly. "We're not like Lord Westwick and his lady. We're not the stuff of legends. At least, I am not, Hugh! You must see that. I'm just an ordinary girl, someone who has been companion to her aunt for years and is given to daydreaming and flights of fancy. I feel as though I've made you up, invented you. Nothing like this could really happen to a simple country lady like myself. I will leave Bath and you will go on with your life as though I had never been."

"Impossible." He brushed a thumb along the line of her jaw, bemused. "You didn't make me up, my love, you merely made me fall in love with you. How could I not have? All your strength and good humor in the face of adversity. All your enthusiasm and excitement about the simplest treats. You are the most remarkable woman I've ever met--practical and whimsical, generous and competent. I love you dearly, Nell."