Lady Vixen (51 page)

In
desperation he had taken to visiting at the War Office and the Horse Guards
where he had become a familiar figure, but he hoped not suspiciously so. Idly
he would scan the various offices, wondering if what he wanted was behind a
particular door. It was frustrating work, and worse, his conscience had a way
of stabbing at him unexpectedly.

Though
Christopher had managed rather adroitly to keep his several and varied
companions on two very distinct levels, now and then they overlapped. It was
during those times that he felt the most uncomfortable, for it brought it home
that he was in reality a spy, using all of them for his own ends.

But
he was able to ignore such prickings with a certain amount of ease by reminding
himself how he would feel if New Orleans fell to the British. To a point the
attitude of most Englishmen toward the war in America reinforced his own
conviction that, for the most part, they couldn't care less what happened on
the other side of the ocean. Somewhat to his astonishment he had discovered
that the greater part of the populace was indifferent to, even uninformed of,
the war in America.

The
majority of the British population had been more concerned with and caught up
in the terrible war with Napoleon to waste much thought on the trifling affair
with those hotheaded Colonials. The knowledge that most everyone viewed the war
as merely a domestic scrabble —one that Britain would promptly settle—only
added to Christopher's determination to see that precisely the opposite
happened.

His
grandfather had not helped matters when Christopher, out of perverse curiosity,
brought up the subject, and Simon, looking startled, asked, "Are we at war
with America?"

Casting
his eyes heavenward in exasperation Christopher snapped, "Yes, and have
been for two years!"

Simon,
uncomfortable, muttered, "Well, I knew something was going on over
there," which just about summed up the general attitude of everyone in
England.

By
the middle of August Christopher was almost ready to concede defeat. He had
been in England nearly five months, he had surmises aplenty, rumors by the
roomful, and gossip, Jesus Christ, the gossip, he thought angrily. But no
goddamn
proof!
That thought reverberated through his brain daily like a
cannon, and he knew he was ripe for mischief or murder—which it might be wasn't
important, either would relieve his growing sense of futility.

Over
the months Nicole convinced herself that whatever attraction had once existed
between her and Christopher was well and truly dead. She could now meet him
socially without any loss of composure, and if her heart still jumped in her
breast when their eyes met unexpectedly, she told herself that eventually even
that would fade.

To
a large degree Robert Saxon was responsible for this apparent change. He was
witty and urbane, and enough like Christopher to capture her interest, and he
was a welcome departure from her young and ardent suitors. He was tantalizing
and aloof, yet managed adroitly to let Nicole know that she was the object of
his desire.

Nicole
enjoyed Robert's company. He could make her laugh at his outrageous remarks,
and yet, by the glitter deep in those sea-green eyes, he made her blood run
just a little swifter, and she found herself dreamily wondering what it would
be like to have him kiss her.

If
she found Robert attractive, she deliberately kept Edward at arm's length. She
had no intention of falling for his specious charm, but nor did she wish to
enrage him. Too well she remembered his petty revenges from childhood. But
Edward seemed impervious to her hints, and without creating an ugly scene, she
had to submit to his wooing. She found it a chore, more than once having to
bite back an exclamation of disbelief at Edward's blatant flattery. She found
him a little too charming, a little too gracious, and too obviously smitten for
her to think him sincere. He was also extremely vain and inclined to preen
himself unashamedly. He thought himself very dashing and brave, making certain
that Nicole learned that his malacca cane was actually a cleverly constructed
sword cane, and rather pompously intimating that she had nothing to fear when
he
was in attendance. Nicole was hard pressed not to burst out laughing—did he
think Lord Saxon or Lady Darby would let her go anywhere there was the least
chance that she would be in danger? Somehow strolling through Hyde Park with
all the members of the
ton
bowing and scraping politely, she thought it
seemed a ridiculous place for one to sport a sword cane. But then Edward
was
a trifle ridiculous. After she kept Edward at bay, bored with his
posturings and banal conversation, it was no wonder she turned with relief to
the mature and exciting courtship of Robert Saxon.

With
Robert she was not on her guard, she could be easy with him, and she found
herself looking forward to those moments when they could steal away from
Regina's watchful eye. There was a promise in his gaze that made Nicole very
aware that she was a woman and that Robert Saxon was an extremely attractive
and fascinating gentleman.

Fascinating
and brazen too, she thought with amusement one night at Vauxhall Gardens, when
he very deftly whisked her out from under Mrs. Eggleston's and Lady Darby's
presence and down one of the many winding paths that offered privacy and
seclusion.

She
was looking particularly lovely this evening in a white, gauzy gown, her hair
worn in a cloud of soft curls around her smooth, milky shoulders. Her hand
rested lightly on Robert's hard-muscled arm, and the topaz eyes were bright
with laughter as she said gaily, "You are acting most outrageously! Behaving,
I must say, most improperly—you know Lady Darby is going to be furious with
us?"

"As
long as
you
find no fault with my actions, that is all that matters to
me," Robert replied. The moonlight intensified the handsome silver streaks
in his dark hair, and dressed this evening in a dark coat with jewel buttons,
he was looking most distinguished.

"Oh,
I don't mind," Nicole answered truthfully. "Sometimes I feel so
hemmed in, I could scream with the silliness of it all. I don't see why we
can't even go for a walk without a chaperon! It's perfectly ludicrous!"

Nicole
was used to freedom, freedom that would have astonished those who knew her now,
and the stiff conventions of England's upper ten thousand frequently made her
resentful. She disliked intensely the constant supervision of either Lady
Darby, Mrs. Eggleston, or her maid if no one else were available. She could not
even walk through Hyde Park by herself or go to the library or to her
dressmaker's without some sort of escort, and when she thought of the careless
freedom of the days of the
La Belle Garce,
her indignation sometimes
became almost uncontrollable.

Some
of what she was feeling showed in the expressive face, and Robert, his eyes
resting on her tempestuous features, felt his heart tighten, and without
thinking, he swiftly drew Nicole into his arms. Staring down into her startled
face, he said lightly, "Chaperons are definitely needed for young women as
beautiful as you are, my dear. And they never let you out of their sight
because they fear this will happen." And deliberately he kissed her on the
mouth.

It
was a questing kiss and did not assault her senses as Christopher's kisses did,
but it was very pleasurable after all.

A
shy smile on her lips when he released her, she asked demurely, "And what
is so terrible about that?"

Robert
had thought he could control himself, but the soft yielding sweetness of
Nicole's mouth was his undoing, and muttering, "Because it leads to
this!"
he swept her into a passionate embrace, his lips compelling hers to part,
allowing him to drink hungrily of the honey within.

Nicole
returned his embrace unstintingly, her bruised heart healing and reviving under
Robert's heady kisses. He kissed her a long time, and at last, his eyes nearly
black with passion, a leaping tenderness gleaming in their depths, he released
her momentarily. He stared at the lovely young face before him and, his
breathing jerky, muttered thickly, "I love you, Nicole! I adore you, my
dearest darling!" Sweeping her once more against his tall frame, he
covered her face with passionate kisses, finding her mouth at last in a long
urgent taking of her lips. It was thus that Regina found them.

First
shocked and then furious, she stared unbelievingly at the locked figures a
second before bursting out in an angry tone, "Have you gone mad, Robert?
What is the meaning of this?"

The
two figures parted, admittedly slowly, and Nicole, bemused by the knowledge
that someone as handsome and polished as Robert Saxon could love her, looked
blankly at Regina, while Robert, a pleased smile on his mouth, started forward
and said soothingly, "I know, my dear aunt, that this is extremely
unorthodox, but Nicole and I—"

Regina,
her face thunderous, snapped, "I'll have a word with you in a minute!
Nicole, you return immediately to Lord Saxon and Mrs. Eggleston! You I'll talk
to as soon as we reach Cavendish Square. You are a disappointment to me, miss,
I can tell you that! Now go!"

Reality
came flooding back abruptly, but her chin set mutinously, Nicole was prepared
to do battle, until Robert said, "Go, my dear. It is better that Lady
Darby and I discuss this between us."

Sending
Lady Darby a speaking glance, she complied and disappeared quickly down the
path. She was barely lost to sight, when Robert, turning to face his aunt, said
coolly, "Was it necessary to speak to my affianced wife in that
tone?"

Astonishment
threw Regina off stride, and she repeated in a stupified voice, "Your
affianced wife?"

"Yes.
I have not spoken to my father yet, as I should have, but there can be no possible
objection," Robert explained impatiently. "And if you wish, I will
wait until after I have spoken to him before formally approaching Nicole, but
it seems rather a ridiculous state of affairs. I mean to marry her and I'm
fairly confident that she will accept me."

"You
are mistaken!" Regina said icily, drawing herself up proudly. "There
is a prior understanding between Christopher and Nicole—your father has already
given his approval for the match." It was an outright lie, but Regina
never let such trifles stand in her way. She had made up her mind that Nicole
and Christopher should marry, and nothing would deter her.

Robert's
face darkened with chagrin and rage. "I don't believe it!" he burst
out furiously. "Why, that young whelp hasn't come near her a half dozen
times this entire summer. I have been the one constantly at her side, not he!
It is to me that she looks, not him!"

Regina
merely looked bored. "My dear nephew, that has nothing to do with it! If
you chose to make a cake of yourself over a chit younger than your own
daughter, that is your affair, but put Nicole Ashford out of your mind, for she
is not for you. She will wed Christopher, you mark my words."

Dislike
glittered in his eyes and his mouth thinned in a tight, ugly smile as Robert
bowed stiffly, "We will see, my dearest aunt, we will see."

Regina
watched him as he strode angrily away. Robert, she could see, was going to be
difficult. It was such a pity, she thought unemotionally, that his fancy had to
alight on Nicole. But then she shrugged her shoulders dismissingly, a setback
would do him a world of good. But if
her
plans were not to suffer a
setback, she must tackle Simon immediately. He must be convinced to go along
with her mendacious story. She hoped he would not prove
too
awkward.

Simon
did not prove awkward at all, although he did give Regina a momentary fright.
She was coolly polite to Nicole for the remainder of the evening, and as the
constraint between them was obvious and as Robert had left their party so
unexpectedly, it was not a difficult matter for Mrs. Eggleston and Lord Saxon
to grasp the fact that
something
had occurred.

At
Cavendish Square Nicole was sent summarily to her room by Regina, apparently in
disgrace, and then as the three older members of the party settled in the blue
salon for a few minutes of conversation before retiring, Regina divulged
all—including her mendacious story.

There
was a gasp of dismay from Mrs. Eggleston at Nicole's wanton behavior, and her
mouth a round
O
of surprise, she heard the remainder of Regina's tale.
Frowning a little, she inquired timidly, "Have you countenanced the match,
Simon?"

"Of
course he hasn't!" snapped Regina. "I made that up!"

"Oh!"

After
his sister finished speaking Simon said nothing; he merely regarded the
amber-hued brandy in his glass for several moments. Finally he lifted his eyes
and from under those scowling black brows stared fixedly at her. "Ever
stop to think that the chit might prefer Robert to Christopher?" he asked
quietly.

Appalled,
Regina gaped at him.
"Simon!
You cannot mean you would rather see
Nicole married to
Robert!
I don't mean to hurt, and I know he is your
son, but you cannot deny he led his first wife a dreadful dance. I often think
she died just to escape him!"