Until You (26 page)

If it had been anyone other than Brendon, Nicholas would have returned the punishing blow along with several others, rather than allowing someone who’d just hit him and spoken to him in such a way walk away unscathed.  However, Nicholas knew that he could never strike his younger brother in anger, no matter what the reason.  Despite his anger he loved Brendon and always would.
 
Therefore, he merely rubbed his now aching jaw and watched in frustration as he walked away.  Mercifully the terrace was otherwise deserted, and thanks to the darkness that shrouded them, no one inside the house appeared to have witnessed their confrontation.

When Isabelle demanded to know what had caused the altercation between he and his brother, Nicholas merely gave her a withering glance before leaving her standing alone on the terrace, staring after him in mute outrage.

Seeking a moment of solitude to compose herself, Ashleigh slipped from the ballroom and walked down a short, deserted hallway.  Several closed doors were spaced along each side of the long hall and cautiously she opened the first one and peered inside.  Luckily the room was empty, so she stepped across the threshold, closing the door quietly behind her.  When she turned, she realized that she was in a small sitting room lit only by the dim light of the moon.  Crossing her arms over her chest, she walked over to the window and gazed out into the dark night. 

Pressing her forehead against the cool pane of glass, the scene she had witnessed on the terrace replayed itself over and over in her mind.  What a fool she had been, to have ever let herself believe that Nicholas would fall in love with her, as she had with him.  She was just one amongst an endless number of women who threw themselves at him on a regular basis.  What had ever made her think that he would see her any differently?  He would never love any of them, just as he would never love her.  She felt cold inside, and so alone.  No, she thought, as her hand drifted downward to rest against her still flat stomach, not entirely alone.

Ashleigh heard the sound of the door opening but didn’t turn around; assuming Brendon had followed her to assure himself that she was alright.  He was so sweet, and such a good friend.  When she felt his presence directly behind her, she turned and threw herself into his arms.  “Oh Brendon,” she said softly, as she laid her cheek against his chest.  She felt him tense, and bewildered by his odd reaction she pulled back and looked up into his face.  Her horrified gaze took in rigid masculine features, lips drawn in a tight grim line and two ice-cold sapphire-blue eyes.  It wasn’t Brendon who held her in his arms, it was Nicholas.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, apparently you were expecting my brother,” he remarked, his tone laced with derision.

Ashleigh wanted nothing more at that moment than to wipe that derisive look from his arrogant face and before either of them realized her intent, she pushed herself away from him and then cracked her hand against his cheek with a stinging force.

Nicholas was caught off guard by the blow and his head snapped to the side from the sheer force of it.  Twice that evening he had been the recipient of a blow to his face, first from his brother and now from Ashleigh and his fury was steadily mounting.  Angrily he reached out and dragged her up against his tall, muscular frame, trapping her arms between their bodies when she would have slapped him again.  “Are you sure
this
isn’t what you really want?”
 
He bent his head and captured her trembling lips with his own.

Ashleigh recognized the kiss for what it was; a kiss intended to insult and demean her, and so she fought against him, struggling in his arms, refusing to yield to his superior strength.  Finally, he tangled his hand in her hair and forced her head backward, before plunging his tongue into her mouth with an almost ravenous intensity.  Still she refused to yield, but Nicholas would not relent.  He deepened the kiss, robbing her of her breath and her strength.  He kissed her until she was limp and whimpering with longing.  He kissed her until she could no longer fight the raging needs of her own treacherous body.  Without conscious effort, Ashleigh twined her arms around his neck and then lost herself to the mindless passion that once again overwhelmed her good sense. 

Nicholas felt her sudden response, and for an instant he gentled his assault.  But all too soon he came to his senses.  Jerking his head up, he thrust her away from him.  She fell back and landed on the nearby settee with a jarring force.  
Damn her!
 
How was it that she always managed to make him forget himself.
 
He couldn’t allow it to happen again.
 
“Always so eager and willing my dear.  Are all of your suitors so lucky, or would you still have me believe that you only play the whore for me?” he queried harshly.

As his cruel words penetrated her befuddled brain, her mind quickly cleared and she gathered the tattered remnants of her pride about her as she got to her feet.  How dare he call her a whore, when he had all but tossed Isabelle
Taryton's
skirts up and taken her right there on the terrace!  She wanted to hurt him, oh how she wanted to hurt him at that moment.  Let him think what he wanted of her.  “We both know that I would be lying if I said that your touch didn't affect me.  However, since your lengthy absence I have discovered that you are not the only man who has the ability to affect me.  You may have been the first, Your Grace, but you certainly weren’t the last.”  The image of Nicholas and Isabelle clasped in each other's arms kept her voice from shaking and her eyes from wavering as she told the bold-faced lie.

Nicholas clenched his fists to prevent himself from grabbing her.  Never in his entire lifetime had he been so furious, but worst of all was the reason for his fury.  The thought of Ashleigh in bed with another man made him feel sick, sick to his core.  To wonder about it was one thing, but for her to admit it was far worse.  Was it Brendon, or had she let someone else touch her?
 
He shouldn’t care, but he did.  Would he never learn?  Mentally cursing himself, he spun on his heel and walked to the opposite side of the room to put a safe distance between them before he lost control of his emotions entirely.  God damn her to hell!

He turned back around in time to see her slip out the door and into the hallway, her emerald and gold skirts brushing against the doorframe just before she disappeared from his sight altogether.

As Ashleigh made her way toward the front of the house, she saw Brendon enter the foyer and quickly rushed to his side.

“Ashleigh, where have you been?  I have been looking everywhere for you.  Are you alright?” he demanded, searching her face.

“Can we go home, Brendon, please?”  Ashleigh choked brokenly, fighting back tears.

“Yes, of course,” he assured her, before turning and requesting a nearby servant to fetch their cloaks and have their carriage brought around to the front of the house.

Although Brendon seemed loathe to leave her by herself for even a moment, he needed to inform his grandmother of their impending departure and see if she wished to accompany them or if she would prefer to wait and return home with Nicholas.  A moment later, as Ashleigh was being bundled into her heavy, sable-lined cloak, Brendon went off in search of the duchess.

While she stood waiting for Brendon to return her thoughts began to whirl frantically, and within minutes she came to a decision.  She was leaving
Sethe
Manor at first light.  The thought of spending even one more day under Nicholas’ roof was out of the question.  She didn't think she could bear to see his cold, sardonic face even once more without causing him serious bodily injury.  Her emotions had been rioting to such an alarming degree of late, she was afraid that whatever control she might possess could now snap at any given moment.  The bloody rotten bastard was lucky she had only slapped him earlier.

Thankfully when Brendon returned to the foyer Madeline was not with him.  She was relieved, for she didn’t know if she could have kept up her brave front during the long carriage ride back to
Sethe
, and she didn’t want to worry Madeline. 

Brendon briefly informed her that he had told his grandmother that she had wished to leave early due to a persistent headache, and had then encouraged the duchess to stay and enjoy herself until Nicholas was ready to depart.  Grateful, she allowed him to lead her outside.

During the carriage ride back to the estate, Brendon tried to coax Ashleigh out of her glum mood, but it did little good.  Her mind was occupied with thoughts of leaving
Sethe
the following morning, and she had already decided where she was going to go.  Her grandfather had a small hunting lodge located several miles to the north of
Sethe
Manor.  Ashleigh had been there on several occasions and knew that it would be the perfect place to await her grandfather's return, a place where no one would come looking for her.

She would leave a note for Madeline, telling her that a servant from
Glenbrooke
had sent word that Martha, her beloved governess, who was currently staying with her sister in a nearby village, had recently taken ill.  She knew that it would look very odd to leave without saying goodbye, but she would claim in her note that the situation was serious and she'd had to leave immediately.  Later, she would send word that Martha’s condition had worsened and that she would be staying to help care for her for until she was well.  She already felt guilty about the upcoming deception, but she didn't see any other alternative.  She would miss Madeline and Brendon tremendously, but she had no choice, she had to distance herself from Nicholas before the situation between them became even worse than it already was.

She would send a note to Tiffany before she left, requesting that her friend send a servant, one who could be trusted to keep her whereabouts a secret, to the lodge the following day with food, clothing and other necessary provisions.  She knew Tiffany would be worried, but she couldn't risk revealing her reason for leaving in the note.  She would have to assure her that she was fine and that she would meet with her later to explain. 

By the time they arrived back at the manor, Ashleigh had her plan all worked out, and first thing in the morning she intended to put it into action.

Madeline and Brendon were just sitting down to breakfast when Annie entered the room with the note she’d found in Ashleigh bedchamber.  As she explained to them, she had discovered the note addressed to the duchess resting atop Ashleigh's pillow when she had taken in Ashleigh’s morning cup of tea.

After taking the envelope from Annie’s outstretched hand, Madeline immediately broke open the wax seal.  “Thank you Annie,” she said, dismissing her.
 
Pulling out the single sheet of paper, she quickly scanned the brief note. 

Brendon, noting his grandmother's look of dismay, reached out to take the note from her hand. 

“Something is wrong,” Madeline said, her voice betraying her obvious worry.  “Despite what she said in the note, I think something else is amiss.  Perhaps I am wrong, and I hope that I am, but I do not think what she said about her governess is the true reason Ashleigh left.”

Brendon looked up and met his grandmother’s anxious gaze.

“What happened last night, Brendon?  Did she say anything to you on the way home?  What on earth would make her want to leave, and so suddenly?”

“Grandmother, please calm down.  I am sure everything is fine; there is no need to upset yourself,” he assured her.  “Perhaps what she said in her note is true.  If not, well mayhap she merely wanted to return to
Glenbrooke
for a time and feared that you might be offended.  I will send one of the servants over to see if she is there, and in the meantime, you needn't worry, I'm sure Ashleigh is fine.” 

As he rose from the table he gave her a reassuring smile, but once he’d left the room, his expression reflected his true concern.

After sending someone to
Glenbrooke
to look for Ashleigh, Brendon went to sit with his grandmother, and did his best to keep her calm.  He had instructed Dalton, one of their most loyal servants, to go to
Glenbrooke
on the pretense of seeking any correspondence from the earl, so as not to alarm anyone about Ashleigh’s disappearance.  However, his real task was to make subtle inquires to ascertain whether or not Ashleigh was there, or if there was any truth to her claim about her ailing governess.  He had been with the
Sethe
family for nearly all of his forty years and Brendon trusted him with the task.

Nearly an hour later, Nicholas entered the salon and bid a subdued good morning to his grandmother and brother.  He had a splitting headache from the abnormally large amount of liquor he had consumed after returning home from the masquerade, and his jaw was throbbing from where Brendon had punched him the night before.
 
He tried not to show his bad-temperedness, but much to his aggravation he saw that Brendon was seated in a large wingback chair near the fireplace, glaring at him in obvious hostility. 

“Nicholas, thank heavens,” Madeline exclaimed, as he entered the room. 

“What's wrong?” Nicholas inquired, surprised to see his grandmother so agitated.