Until You (6 page)

Once Annie had left the room, Ashleigh went over and sat down upon the edge of her bed, her mind replaying everything she had just learned.  Apparently, Nicholas' father, the previous duke, had been quite riotous and unruly during his younger days.  He had run with a wild crowd, and according to what Annie had learned over the years, his parents had been thrilled when he had finally decided to marry and start a family.  Everyone had thought that the beautiful and serene
Lysette
DuVale
would be just the thing to calm young Richard's unruly nature, and early in their marriage it had seemed that she had done just that, but the serenity hadn't lasted long. 

Two years later, Richard's father had died, his mother had retired to her dower lands, and Richard was named the seventh Duke of
Sethe
.  Shortly after taking the reins of the family fortune, the young duke had apparently slipped back into his wild ways, frequently entertaining his raucous group of friends at the estate, and hosting extravagant and decadent affairs that often shocked his sedate young wife, as well as the household servants.  The relationship between the duke and duchess began to disintegrate and after the birth of their two sons, the duke spent less and less time at their country home.

Unexpectedly, when young Nicholas was ten, and his brother four, the duke had returned to the country after an unusually long absence, surprising everyone with his unannounced visit.  Though Annie had been too young to remember it herself, she had heard the story of that fateful time repeatedly.  Evidently, the duke had developed a serious drinking habit, and his personality, previously characterized as wild and unruly, had become mean-spirited and oft times cruel.  During his stay, the servants grew wary of his increasing temper, and the duchess, seeming to live in constant fear of his unpredictable rages, had kept her distance, in addition to keeping the children closeted away in the nursery for much of the time.  And then one day, much to everyone’s surprise and dismay, the duchess had simply vanished.

Rumor had run rampant throughout the staff, but the final consensus had been that the duchess, dreadfully unhappy in her marriage, had run away with another man.  The theory had apparently been substantiated by the duke's drunken ravings about his adulterous wife to any and all who would listen, including his shocked staff.

Then, just as they were all slowly adjusting to the duchess' absence, the duke had unexpectedly taken his own life.  It was a horrible tragedy and had quickly become the scandal of the decade.

Those poor boys, Ashleigh thought to herself.  Like them, she too had lost her parents at a young age, but even so, she could hardly imagine the pain they must have suffered under such horrible circumstances.  And for their mother never to have returned for them, even after the death of her husband, well that was simply heartless and cruel.

Lost in thought, she had completely forgotten the time when her eyes darted anxiously towards the clock set atop the fireplace mantel.  It was eight-o’clock exactly, and dinner at
Sethe
Manor was served promptly at eight, each and every night.  Oh dear!  After her unorthodox meeting with the duke that afternoon, the last thing she wanted was to be late for dinner.

Rising from the bed she rushed to the full length mirror that stood in the corner of the room and took one last look at her appearance.  The light coral color of her gown heightened the peach hue of her cheeks and the snug, square cut bodice accentuated the fullness of her breasts.  The gown was beautiful and much more sophisticated than anything she had ever worn before, and with her hair styled to perfection, thanks to Annie’s capable hands, she knew she had never looked better.  She could only hope that Nicholas Leighton liked what he saw.  Taking a deep calming breath, she turned and hurried from her room.

When she reached the dining room she saw that the duke and his grandmother were already there.  The duke stood at one of the many tall windows lining the east wall, staring out across the front lawns, a drink held casually in one hand, while Madeline stood conferring with one of the footmen.  Ashleigh was standing hesitantly upon the threshold when Madeline looked up and noticed her presence.

“There you are, dearest,” Madeline said, as she politely dismissed the young man to whom she had been speaking and made her way to Ashleigh's side. 

“I'm so sorry that I am late, Madeline,” Ashleigh murmured with an apologetic smile.

“That's quite alright, dear,” she replied, grasping her hand.  Her eyes then swept Ashleigh from top to bottom, her expression pleased.  “You look breathtaking.  I knew this color would look lovely on you.”

“Thank you, Madeline.  You look quite lovely yourself,” she said, taking in Madeline’s elegant watered-silk gown, the color a deep burgundy. 

“Come, let me introduce you to my grandson,” she said with a warm smile as she led her toward the duke, who had remained standing at the window seemingly oblivious to her presence. 

Noting their approach, Nicholas turned his attention to the young woman standing beside his grandmother and very nearly choked on the sip of brandy he'd just taken.  His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked upon the young woman he had encountered earlier that morning.  Swiftly his eyes raked over her body, noting that an elegant silk gown had replaced the shirt and tight breeches.

“Nicholas, I would like you to meet Lady Ashleigh St. John.” 

His grandmother's voice pulled him from his momentary stupor as the young lady sank into a deep and graceful curtsey, affording him an unobstructed view of the tops of her magnificent breasts.  He clenched his jaw in an attempt to maintain control of his rioting emotions.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”  Rising from her curtsey, she eyed the duke with a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she noted his utter state of shock.  She also noticed that his eyes had lingered for a moment upon the expanse of exposed flesh revealed by the cut of her gown, and felt a slight shiver race down her spine.

“Lady St. John,” he replied with a curt nod of his head, his expression now composed, the transformation lightening-swift.  Without another word, he once again shifted his gaze toward the window.  He knew that his behavior was discourteous, but much to his consternation he was completely disconcerted and disinclined to show it.

Ashleigh, stung by the duke’s brusque tone and rude dismissal, was unsure how to respond.
 
Thus she simply remained silent.

Madeline regarded her grandson in surprise, and then glanced curiously back and forth between him and Ashleigh, seeming to note the sudden tension between them, though she clearly had no idea as to its cause.  She looked as if she were about to question Nicholas, and then abruptly changed her mind.
 

“Perhaps we should be seated,” she said somewhat awkwardly, her smile overly bright.  “I believe we have kept Monsieur
LeFeve
waiting long enough.”

Moments later Nicholas had taken his seat at the head of the table, with Madeline seated to his left and Ashleigh St. John on his right.  Glancing to his right from the corner of his eye, he sought to reassure himself that the elegantly clad young woman sitting beside him was indeed the same young vixen he had witnessed riding hell-bent across the grassy flatlands that very morning, and indeed she was.  Good lord, he thought in horror, he had actually considered trying to locate her with the intention of pursuing an amorous liaison, the granddaughter of the Earl of Dexter for Christ's sake.  And now here she was, sitting at his dinner table; it defied belief. 

Ashleigh glanced uncertainly at the duke as the first course was set before them.  His features were taut and his demeanor indicated that he was anything but pleased by her presence.  She could only assume that he was still vexed by their earlier encounter, for she could fathom no other reason for his boorish behavior. 

As the meal progressed, her attempts at conversation were rewarded with only the briefest of answers and her friendly smiles achieved only austere frowns in return.  He conversed amiably with his grandmother however, his tone filled with warmth and affection when it was directed toward Madeline.  Ashleigh could sense that the duchess was perplexed by her grandson’s seeming uncharacteristic behavior, though she refrained from making direct mention of it.  She did make a concerted effort to include her in their conversation however, and she appreciated the gesture.  

After a while, Ashleigh simply sat in relative silence, uneasily shifting the delicious but scarcely touched food around on her plate as the duke continued to direct the majority of his attention to his grandmother.

For Nicholas, ignoring Ashleigh proved far more difficult than he made it seem.
 
Seated only a few feet away from the ravishing young beauty, it was nearly impossible to keep his gaze from drifting in her direction.
 
In addition, whenever his grandmother managed to include her in the conversation, it became increasingly apparent that not only was she beautiful, but she was surprisingly intelligent as well.
 
Under different circumstances he might well have admired the unique combination, but unfortunately with the situation being what it was, he was only too aware that the combination could be exceedingly dangerous as well.
 
Past experience had taught him that lesson quite well and he wasn’t about to forget it.
 
Better to act the part of an ill-mannered boor now, he surmised, and promptly douse that initial spark that had flared between them earlier.

When the last course was finally taken away, Ashleigh was immensely relieved to be able to rise from the dinner table at last.  Unable to endure another moment of the duke’s obvious disdain, she declined Madeline’s invitation to join them in the parlor for an after-dinner drink.
 
Pleading a headache, she bid them each a polite goodnight and then escaped quickly to her chamber.

Watching her go, Nicholas felt a twinge of regret, but he swiftly quashed it.
 
It was for the best.
 

By the time she reached her bedchamber, Ashleigh was both frustrated and confused.  Had her behavior that morning been so horribly offensive to the duke that he could now treat her with only the barest hint of civility?  It seemed so at odds with what she had learned about him.  Madeline had always spoken of him in the most flattering manner and with such obvious affection, and to her he had been nothing but charming and solicitous.  In addition, during the past few days she had gotten the distinct impression that Nicholas Leighton was highly admired and very well-liked by his staff.  Therefore, she could only presume that the manner in which he had behaved at dinner was not an indication of his true personality, but was instead, solely for her benefit.   Nevertheless, even as she bristled at his rather inauspicious behavior, she couldn't deny that she was still drawn to him, at least physically.  She could still picture him in his elegant dinner jacket, snowy white shirt, and finely-tailored trousers, looking entirely too handsome to be believed.  Blasted man, he was like a fairy-tale prince come to life.
 
It was so unfair.

Walking over to the bed, she sat down upon the edge of the mattress and then drew up her legs, leaning back against the tall stack of pillows.
 
Thinking back to their earlier encounter, she replayed it in her mind.  Yes he had been angry, at first anyhow, but even so, she knew she hadn’t mistaken the flare of attraction that had sparked between them.  And when they’d parted, well, he hadn’t seemed angry at all, quite the opposite in fact.  So why then was he so acrimonious now, now that he knew who she was?  Clearly she was missing something.
 
Her thoughts spun.
 
Could it be that their initial attraction to one another was the cause of his present behavior?  Was his incivility a deliberate effort to prevent anything further from developing between them?  Was he
trying
to make her dislike him?
 
She considered that for a minute.  It was an interesting theory, and one that definitely required some additional thought.

When Nicholas entered the master bedchamber later that night he was in a foul temper, and once again, Ashleigh St. John was the cause of it.  Every time he’d looked at her during dinner, he had felt that same intense attraction that he’d experienced that morning.
 
Damnation, even now he couldn’t seem to get her out of his thoughts.
 
It was a good thing he was an expert at concealing his true emotions, for like tonight, in the days ahead the last thing he needed was for the troublesome chit to realize that he was attracted to her.  Despite her beauty and overwhelming appeal, she was still the exact type of woman he needed to avoid at all costs.
 

Woman?
  Hell, she was hardly a woman, he reminded himself, regardless of her lush figure.  She was a seventeen-year-old
girl
, and unconventional she might be, she was still a female and for that reason alone, he had to keep his guard up.  Unfortunately, residing under the same roof as the enticing little baggage was going to be even more unpleasant than he had imagined.  He could return to London, he supposed.
 
He sighed.
 
No dammit
, he refused to be run out of his own home.
 
Frustrated, he paced restlessly across the room.  Bloody hell, why did she have to be so damnably appealing?  It was absolutely maddening.