Promise Me (23 page)

Alarm changed to irritation. “Trinity O’Connell?”

“
Oh, you’ve met him?”

“
Briefly.”

“
Well splendid. You know, Louise is a dear friend who’s just recently returned from America, and I’m certain you’ll find her western stories interesting.”

“
Yes, I’m sure,” Nicolas quipped then tempered his tone. “I’m pleased you’ve renewed an old acquaintance, my love.”

But why invite O’Connell?

“
It’s unfortunate timing though,” he added. “But I suppose I could postpone the announcement.”

“
What announcement?”

“
Do you recall I mentioned earlier that I’d spoken with Miss Sheridan?”

“
During the mud slinging, you mean?” she prompted with an impish grin.

Nicolas sighed. “Believe it or not, Gran, that part of the afternoon wasn’t planned.”

“
I should hope not.”

“
What I didn’t tell you...” The temperature in the room suddenly rose uncomfortably, and he loosened his cravat. “You see, Miss Sheridan and I...”

Grandmother Margaret waited expectantly.

“
Well...” Nicolas adjusted his cuffed sleeves one at a time. “We made an agreement of sorts.”

“
Before or after the altercation?”

“
After.” He frowned. “I think.”

“
What kind of agreement?”

“
She agreed to become my fiancée.”

Her ladyship stared.

“
Gran, are you ill? Do you need a sherry?”

“
No, I...it’s just...well I thought you said...” She gathered her composure within seconds. “Nicky, did you say Miss Sheridan agreed to become your wife?”

“
No, I said she agreed to become my fiancée.”

“
I fail to see the difference, dear.”

“
One is the intended. The other has become a certainty to which no honorable gentleman can rid himself.”

Her eyes misted. “Did your grandfather teach you that particular lesson?”

“
No. Life taught me,” Nicolas replied. “Gran, if I gave you the impression that Grandfather Bart did not adore you, I apologize. Nothing could be farther from the truth. To my knowledge, he never expressed regret at his marriage. In fact, I truly believe the only time he ever smiled was when he looked at you.”

The sadness in her eyes deepened. “Nicky, the tragedy of losing your parents at such a young age has caused you to fear love. You must learn to trust your heart again.”

“
My heart has nothing to do with this betrothal.”

She sighed. “How long will it last?”

“
A few weeks.”

“
Until after Edwin’s adoption?”

He nodded.

“
I see. What then? What’s to become of Miss Sheridan?”

“
I would imagine she’ll be relieved.”

“
I’m not sure you understand my question, dearest. By losing another fiancé, she risks damaging her reputation beyond repair.”

He frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“
And when that Crandle woman hears the news, God only knows what filth she’ll write about the girl.” She touched his forearm. “You’ve spoken to Lord Greyson?”

“
Yes, and he left the decision with his daughter.”

“
That is indeed unexpected. And Miss Sheridan offered no objection?”

“
She did at first, but then I explained that after everything is settled with Edwin, she can break the engagement any way she likes.”

“
That might be difficult.”

“
I fail to see how,” Nicolas insisted.

“
Well of course you do,” his grandmother retorted. “You, like most gentlemen, cannot see what is beneath your very nose.”

“
I beg your pardon?”

“
Never mind. At this point, an explanation would merely confuse you.”

Nicolas could not have been more bewildered. “Gran, after Edwin’s adoption is complete, Miss Sheridan can say she made a mistake about this betrothal, and that it’s far too soon after Adrian’s death. Or she can offer no explanation at all. Either way, we’ll both move on. It’s that simple.”

“
Is it?”

“
Why wouldn’t it be?”

“
My dear, dear Nicolas.” Grandmother Margaret shook her head. “Life rarely follows a set plan. My mother used to say that just when you resign yourself to a particular fate, the Good Father smiles down on you and changes everything.” She reached up and ever so gently pinched his cheek. “I can only pray that He is smiling down on you now, because you clearly need all the help you can get.”

An odd sensation washed over Nicolas. His gut instinct, something he’d paid careful attention to beginning at a very early age, warned that this agreement with Leah Sheridan might cause him more trouble than he bargained for.

Chapter Fifteen

While the servants filled expensive blue and gold china bowls with Soup a’ la Reine and topped off glasses with pale sherry, Irma casually studied the other guests sitting at the dinner table.

The Earl of Greyson, a handsome gent with barely a hint of gray to his dark hair, sat across from her. A savvy conversationalist, his views on foreign affairs impressed Irma the most as they didn’t fit the standard English mold.

Down the table from his lordship sat Katrina Sheridan and Rebecca Ashburn. The two well-mannered girls were obviously good friends.

The opposite end of the oblong table belonged to the master of the manor. When Margaret had introduced Chase, his shocked expression had amused Irma, but he quickly recovered. He made sure he chatted with each of his guests from time to time. He even smiled at Irma.

Once.

Heavy with child, Anne Ashburn sat on the duke’s left. Lovely features with hair the color of rich mahogany, the lady displayed a pleasant personality as well, and Irma liked her. More so when she teased her prickly cousin.

Trinity sat across from Lady Ashburn. The next seat down belonged to the fair-haired beauty Chase couldn’t keep his eyes off for more than five seconds. Several of Irma’s sources had mentioned Leah Sheridan’s exceptional looks, and Trinity confirmed this, but it appeared the earl’s oldest daughter possessed two qualities even more rare.

Grace and modesty.

Miss Sheridan did not flaunt her beauty nor did she use provocative clothing to accentuate her curves, like most ladies of her tender age. She likely didn’t have to resort to such pathetic trickery to render a gentleman helpless. Her smile could do that. It resembled her father’s. Genuine. And, like her father, she displayed a fair amount of commonsense. Another pleasant surprise.

Irma finished her soup, and before long the servants replaced the bowls with platters of roast quail with grapes, crown roast of lamb, salmon a’ la Genevese, potato rissoles, and Yorkshire pudding.

During a lull in the conversation, her attention shifted to Lord Greyson. “Your daughters are lovely, my lord. You must be quite proud.”

“
Indeed I am, Lady Westwood, but I had very little to do with their beauty. Both favor my late wife, Olivia. My eldest took her green eyes while my youngest has her mother’s defiant chin.”

“
A small amount of defiance is healthy.”

Katrina raised her head.

Irma winked at the girl before adding, “A rebellious nature often serves a lady well.”

“
What you are cleverly promoting, madam,” Chase admonished in a casual tone, “is insubordination. But perhaps you are speaking from experience.” He set aside his napkin. “Tell us, Lady Westwood. Were you a rebellious female in your youth?”

Putting aside her fondness for the occasional cigar and her preference to ride astride, Irma replied, “Not in the least.”

“
Don’t let her fool you, your Grace,” Trinity said. “She had, and still has, a rebellious nature. By the way, Miss Sheridan, that’s a lovely dress you’re wearing. The color suits your eyes perfectly.”

“
Thank you, Mister O’Connell.”

Chase glared at them.

Fuse lit.

“
Your Grace,” Irma said. “Surely you’re not one of those gentlemen who thinks a wife should cower and bend to her lord’s every command?”

“
Certainly not, my lady, but perhaps I spoke out of turn. As my dear grandmother often reminds me, I lack expertise in this area.”

“
You are skillfully dodging the question,” Irma accused. “Subtle differences in a marriage add spice, but perhaps you believe a wife should not voice her opinions.”

“
If she shows proper respect, she can say whatever she pleases. But any union, whether it be marriage or a business venture, needs a certain amount of discipline to maintain harmony.”

“
So you intend to discipline your future wife?”

Everyone’s attention gravitated toward the duke.

“
If the need arises,” he replied nonplussed.

“
And who, pray tell, disciplines you?”

“
That’s an unfair question, Granny,” Trinity reprimanded.

“
On the contrary, Mister O’Connell,” Margaret Chase argued. “The question is quite valid.”

“
I agree,” Miss Sheridan declared.

“
As do I,” Lady Ashburn chimed in. She offered Irma a warm smile. “Bravo, Lady Westwood.”

“
This is not your battle, Annie,” Chase scolded. “I happen to know Viscount Ashburn runs a strict household, and you comply with his every wish.”

“
Yes, but I do so because it pleases me to please my dear husband.”

“
Well then, madam, that makes you the head of your household, does it not?”

“
Not at all. The title properly belongs to Hugh.”

“
You mean...you
allow
him the title?”

“
Sounds like an empty one to me,” Trinity remarked.

Lady Ashburn glared at him before her attention shifted back to the duke. “Ask Hugh if he’s miserable in this marriage or deliriously happy.”

“
Very well, but will you be present when I do?”

“
Does it matter?”

“
It should,” Trinity quipped.

“
His Grace does not need rescuing, Mister O’Connell,” Miss Sheridan noted.

“
Are you sure about that?”

She almost smiled. “And I was just beginning to like you.”

“
Were you?” Trinity drawled with a grin. “Well now, that makes me real happy, Miss Sheridan.”

A scowl creased the duke’s brow.

Excellent timing, boy.

While Chase’s hostility centered mainly on Trinity, he clearly took offense to Miss Sheridan’s endearing remark.

Irma smiled beneath her folded napkin. Trinity had a true gift for flirting with ease, but it was a miracle he’d never had a shotgun leveled at his chest. Should she warn him that a powder keg waited at the end of this fuse?

Lord Greyson set his sherry aside. “Ladies, I fear you’ve misunderstood the duke’s reasoning.”

“
Thank you, my lord.”

“
I beg to disagree,” Lady Chase declared. “Lord Greyson, you cannot be of the same opinion as my misguided grandson. I daresay you never once disciplined your wife.”

“
I never saw the need to, my lady.”

The duke smiled.

Trinity grinned.

Lady Chase’s blue eyes flashed annoyance. “The very idea of any gentleman thinking he can put me in my place has my dignity bristling.”

“
Bravo, Aunt Margaret.”

“
Grandmother, are you confessing to our guests that you often disobeyed Grandfather?”

“
Nicolas, when I wed Bartholomew I wasn’t a child who needed an occasional toss over the master’s knee. I complied with his lordship’s wishes to a certain extent, but I never changed my opinions simply because he wished it.”

“
I find that hard to believe, Gran.”

“
Then let me ask you this. Did your grandfather ever storm out of this manor, muttering beneath his breath?”

“
Yes. Quite often, in fact.”

Her ladyship smiled. “That was my doing.”

“
And I thought it was just his sour nature.”

Disjointed laughter floated about the dining room.

Lord Greyson relented. “Lady Chase argues a good point, and I agree with Lady Westwood that complete compliance in any marriage is detrimental to its success. Without the occasional difference of opinion, husbands and wives would bore one another to tears.”

“
Without a doubt,” Irma agreed. “But the duke has failed to answer my last question. Pray tell us, your Grace. Who disciplines you?”

He accepted the challenge. “I do, madam.”

“
Bravo, Chase.”

“
Thank you, O’Connell.”

“
What do you two rogues know?” Irma retorted.

“
I know marriage does not define a man,” Chase replied.

“
No,” his cousin agreed. “It
re
-fines him.”