by Moore, Mary
She jumped on Nicole’s bed, crying, “Wake up, Nicky! You have an admirer.”
Nicole, still half-asleep, listened as Chelsea described the beautiful flowers, exclaiming at the unusual shade.
“Chelsea, do quit,” Nicole mumbled. “Let me sleep a few moments more.”
Nicole rarely stayed abed once awake, so Chelsea sensed the gift had no significance. She could not have known that her usually practical sister wished only to relive the previous day’s adventure, pleasure and…uncertainty.
“But I have brought you the card, Nick. Perhaps it is a love letter,” she said, making kissing noises with her mouth.
At Chelsea’s continued prodding Nicole finally gave in, saying, “Very well, read it to me, imp.”
Chelsea clapped in glee and hastily broke the wax seal in her eagerness to open the card. “‘Dearest Lady Nicole,’” she began. “‘I pray you will accept my meager thanks for a splendid evening with you and your family as well as your unexpected show of support yesterday…’”
Nicole interrupted her sister by abruptly sitting straight up in bed, saying, “What?” She could not explain the fluttering of her heart when she heard Chelsea read Lord Devlin’s words. Oh, how she wished she could read the note herself, keep it a secret in her heart, to savor the words. She was afraid her impetuous prayer had given him a dislike of her. She slowly returned to Chelsea’s words.
“‘…I hope you will join me for a drive in the park this afternoon. I should like to pick you up at three o’clock as we are both wishful of missing the crush of the fashionable hour. My man will await an answer.’” Chelsea sighed in a lovelorn manner. “Oh, Nicky, he salutes you as ‘Your Devoted Servant’ and…wait…there is a postscript.”
Nicole did not wish to feed Chelsea’s imagination by asking her not to read the rest, so she silently prayed it said nothing outlandish. She had already been frightened that Chelsea would ask what yesterday was about, but it seemed she was too excited to notice.
“The postscript says,” her dramatic sister continued, “‘I hope you enjoy the roses. I went into the shop, closed my eyes and waited until the right fragrance struck me.’” Chelsea scrunched her nose in question. “What on earth can he mean by that?”
Nicole blushed at the remembrance of their evening on the terrace, but felt a great deal of satisfaction that he had not made fun of their exercise that night. “Chelsea, run down and tell Lord Devlin’s servant I shall be ready at three o’clock.”
“Nicole?” Chelsea’s voice reached through her fog.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why do you not tell Lord Devlin you cannot see? He seems awfully nice to me, and you wouldn’t need Toby with you all the time.”
Nicole took a moment to formulate her reply. How could she explain feelings she did not always understand herself? She did not wish Chelsea to fear rejection, yet she was setting the example for that exact thing. Chelsea could not seem to understand the concept of normalcy as yet.
“Darling, I do not like to put someone to so much trouble. Toby already knows how to help me.” She felt God’s quiet conviction, and for the first time in her life, she was afraid to listen to it. “It is as we talked about before we left home. I do not want to put people to extra trouble while I am here.”
“But he already likes you, goose! He would not…”
“Chelsea, it is just better for now. Why don’t you run down and tell Lord Devlin’s man that I shall be ready.”
Chelsea’s exuberance could not long be subdued, so she kissed Nicole’s cheek and ran from the room. Rising from bed, she knew she must remember to restrain her imaginative sister in her belief that a love was blooming between her and Devlin. But in her heart, she could imagine.
Nicole was ready at the appointed time, despite frantic last-minute changes. She was happier than she wanted to admit when Devlin arrived to take her for the drive.
They proceeded to the almost empty park, and Lord Devlin suggested they walk for a while. Nicole hated that her lack of sight prohibited a long leisurely stroll. It could only happen if she were brazenly forward to Lord Devlin by leaning on his arm all afternoon. They were not at that level of friendship yet! Instead she asked if he could find somewhere for them to sit and talk. He led her to an isolated bench shaded by a large weeping cherry a fair distance from the path.
They immediately relaxed into an easy banter after Nicole thanked him profusely for the wonderful roses. It was not long before they returned to the topic of Lord Devlin’s speech the day before, and it was that which led to her frustrated outburst.
“I believe you take delight in deliberately misunderstanding me!”
Her fury only made him laugh. “Nicole, there is no need to become so heated. It is not something you and I may resolve. Therefore, it is not a matter of such importance as this.”
“That is where you are wrong, my lord.”
“We are back to ‘my lord’ again,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.
Nicole continued as if she had not heard him. “It is an integral component of the plan you presented, and almost as important as the pension payments themselves. And I believe with God, all things are possible.” Nicole was passionate to make him understand.
“But, my dear, we do not agree. I believe poaching to be a crime whether caused by need or by malice. I have no wish to include this debate in what is already an unpopular bill.” He hesitated a moment and said, “And did we not put it into your God’s hands only yesterday?”
She was so pleased he had not made fun of their prayer the day before, but her passion for the subject made her overly animated. “How can such an intelligent man be so bird-witted?” The minute the words came out of her mouth she realized her faux pas in addressing him so and apologized immediately. “I told you, did I not, that I am the despair of my mother!”
Once again he could only laugh and say, “You are quickly becoming the despair of me!”
She then became serious. “I wish to tell you a story, my lord.” Her voice had calmed to a serene level, and he waited silently. She spoke again. “But I must beg your pardon. I have no desire to quarrel with you, I promise. Are we friends again?”
“Sweetheart, you are not likely to lose my friendship because you raise your voice or because you disagree with me. I hope I have more loyalty than that! Once again I question the bumpkins who surround you if they have given up after a single disagreement!”
“Very well,” she said, a little relieved. “My father found an ex-soldier lying in the woods near Beaufort. He was injured and only barely alive. He brought the man to our home, and my mother and I took on the task of nursing him. His condition was grave. He had been shot, you see, in the chest.” Her eyes were looking back in time, and she sounded as if it had only happened yesterday. “Michael…Dr. Perry removed the bullet, but the poor man had lost so much blood that he died only two days later.”
Nicole had paused, but with an air of sadness went on with her story. “He had just returned from fighting a month before. He had gone to his home and learned that his wife had died and his two children were being passed from family to family in the neighborhood. Overwrought over the death of his wife, but needing to care for his children, he sought work. There is no need to tell you jobs are scarcer than ever.”
Nicole waited for some response from Lord Devlin, but as none came, she continued, “He had performed odd jobs and had been able to keep his children fed for a short while, but his income and his hope dwindled when he and his little ones went two days without food. He crossed through the woods hoping to find work on a neighboring estate. When he was on his way home, he found a dead rabbit lying on the ground and he took it, thinking only of his family.”
She closed her eyes a moment to fight back her emotions, but soon gained a semblance of control. “It seems the owner of the estate felt he was losing too much game to poachers, so had set the dead rabbit as a trap. Mr. Richards was unfortunate enough to be in the wro
ng place at the wrong time. He was shot by the gamekeeper and left to die—all perfectly legal because poaching is a capital offense.” Nicole could only think that God’s tears overflowed at man’s cruelty to man.
Lord Devlin took her hands into his own and felt the icy coldness in them. “I am sorry, Nicole,” he said. “I hope you know me well enough to know I believe no one should take the law into their own hands. Mr. Richards should have had a trial with the local magistrate and received whatever punishment was decided upon there.”
“No!” Nicole burst out. “Please try to imagine watching your own children starve.” She stopped and squeezed the hand still holding hers. “Can you not see a major difference in a man so desperate he takes an animal already dead than a man poaching to sell the skins for gain?”
“Of course I can, Nicole. However, I see a difference in motivation, not in crime. I am sorry, but I still believe criminal behavior should be categorically wrong. Who may prove a man’s motivation? Who may determine a man’s inner reasoning? I hate to even say this, my dear, but who is to say Mr. Richards told you the truth? No, do not attack me. I ask you to use the same reasoning ability you ask of me.”
Nicole was struck by his words for a moment. How could he be so very determined for justice at all costs, yet not know the loving God who teaches that kind of truth? He had been so condescending in the carriage ride home yesterday. She did not care about that, but she wondered if somehow God had not gotten a foothold into Lord Devlin early in life to make him so passionate toward others.
“Nicole, I do understand what you say, that is why my proposal is so important to me. If it passes, I hope it will lead to the end of poaching. I am not naive enough to believe it will disappear completely, but it will make it easier to prosecute the criminals, knowing that is what they are.”
She sensed his emotion as he spoke to her gently, and she could tell that he, too, had come to the realization that they must agree to disagree.
“My lord, I daresay you have never spent such a dull afternoon. I shall allow you to return me to my home so you may still have time to be back before the fashionable hour. I hope you will do so with a more companionable lady.”
He teased her. “I am quite reconciled, my sweet. Once I make a commitment, I accept the weight of it. I should never show the least sign of impatience. How do you suppose I came to be the outrageous flirt you often call me?”
Nicole giggled at him, and he tweaked her chin. She was coming to love his endearments, knowing they were most improper. Then she found herself wanting too much for him to leave his hand on her jaw.
“Did you inherit your compassion for your fellow man through the works of your father?” he asked. Nicole was quiet for a long moment, and he berated himself for bringing up the painful subject. They both spoke at the same time.
“I am sorry. I should not have trespassed…”
“My father was…”
“Manners dictate that I defer to you, my lady, but I do not wish to distress you again, so let us speak of other matters.”
“It is quite all right, I promise you, my lord. I am afraid I still miss him very much, so I sometimes get emotional when I speak of him. You will think me a watering pot! But it does not mean I do not wish to speak of him, I assure you. Indeed, there are times when I absolutely need to talk about him, yet my mother and Chelsea are not inclined to do so. Therefore, if you truly wish it, I would be happy to tell you about him.”
“I admit to being curious. It seems to have been an unusually strong bond. And to own the truth, I hope it will tell me more about your uniqueness which I can explain in no other way!”
“You exaggerate, my lord!” Nicole smiled. “I am not uncommon in the least, and you think to turn me up sweet by talking about him. Very well, I will add to your vanity by allowing outright that your ploy has worked on me.”
She leaned back against the wooden bench slabs and her impish manner left her. “I do not believe you are as inexperienced in such familial ties as you proclaim. You speak of your grandmother in quite the same affectionate manner as I do of my father. It is all the same type of love, and it pleases me to see a man with such respect for his family. It is a very attractive quality, my lord.” She blushed; she must guard her wretched tongue.
“I am never prepared for your compliments, Nicole! They are not at all frippery or superficial. I believe I shall have to make my mental list into a written one. It will be titled ‘Ways to Please Lady Nicole Beaumont,’ and I shall keep it on hand at all times when my ego needs a boost!”
“You are talking nonsense, my lord.” Nicole blushed again at the thought that he might seriously wish to discover what pleased her.
“How quickly things can change. I have been set down! We will turn the conversation back to your father and I will refrain from interruptions.”
Quietly she began to talk, and he had to lean down to hear her. “As I told you once before, I believe my father would have had a great fondness for you. In addition to being a man of great morals and loyalty, he also enjoyed laughter and teased me often. I have spoken to you of his nature before, so I am not sure exactly what you wish to know.”
Devlin hesitated, knowing part of his curiosity could cause her pain. He had experienced such a disappointing relationship with his own father that he wished to hear about one so special. “I should like to know about your relationship with him.”
Nicole did not hesitate, as she knew she would not be able to talk at all if she allowed her emotions to run amok. “We had a very special regard for each other. I wish that Chelsea had been older before he died so she, too, could have felt his extraordinary love. His devotion to God and his fellow man was inspiring. I believe he was much esteemed in return.
“When I was old enough, he made sure he instilled in me a true compassion for others by helping to meet their needs. It worked very well—too well, in fact. I am afraid I have even come to see the division of our classes as a bad thing. The rich get no less sick than the poor, and charity needs to be more giving of self and time than a few alms on Sunday morning.” Very thoughtfully she added, “He would have loved your speech yesterday.”
She began to chew on her lower lip, trying to put her next thought into words.
“When he became ill, we thought it was influenza. I never dreamed he would succumb to it. Mama kept Chelsea away from the sickroom, as she was so young. Since I had been helping with the sick in the parish she let me nurse him.”
“We had the most fascinating conversations. I think it was only due to the fact that he was confined to his bed. Usually we were so busy, we had no time for lengthy discussions. But during those last few weeks, we had a chance to talk of many things.”
A tear slid slowly down Nicole’s cheek, but she would finish. “He seemed to feel the need to release the burdens he suffered, verbally. He knew he was forgiven by God, but he seemed to seek an inner peace. I reminded him of the tremendous good he had done, but I believe he felt it keenly that we should be without him.”
“When he died, I thought I should pine away into nothing. He had taught me to rely on God’s strength, and that is what brought me through.”
She finally smiled; she had made it through the hardest part.
“Your strength and presence of mind during a trial is very…moving. Nicole, I think you should like my grandmother very much. It is almost as if she were sitting before me, telling me of her faith.” He went on hurriedly, “Your father sounds like a very special man to me. I appreciate your candidness and willingness to talk about him.” As he was now sure a discussion of the afterlife might ensue, he arose and pulled her up with him.
Walking back to the carriage, he teased her. “As London’s most accomplished flirt, I cannot possibly allow you to be low upon our return. I must keep up appearances, you know.” He handed her into his vehicle and directed his coachman to her home.
“In order to keep my reputation with the ladies intact, I must ask you to put arguments over p
oachers and sad recollections from your mind. Indeed, I shall be quite selfish and remind you of the pleasure we look forward to on the morrow when we attend the theater.”
Nicole laughed at him. “I believe I have discovered the secret to your success, sir. You make sure to leave us laughing!”
He also laughed. “No, you quite mistake the matter, my dear. It is rather the trick of discovering the lady’s innermost longings, then offering them to her. Other ladies do not hesitate to inform me of what pleases them. You, however, are as tight lipped as any foreign spy. Once you revealed your weakness for music, I immediately gained the upper hand!”
“I will keep that in mind, my lord.”
Nicole was introspective on the drive home. She wanted to replay the conversation between them that afternoon over and over in her head. He had talked to her, and listened to her, as an equal. Though he had not changed his mind, he had allowed her to have opinions of her own and had not treated her as a vapid female. Even her father had seldom had the time for such debate as had passed between her and Devlin that day, and she was intoxicated by it—there was no other word for it.
Nicole had told Toby she wanted to find out Lord Devlin’s mettle, what he was made of. Over the past two days, his character had been made crystal clear, and she could no longer deny the racing of her pulse and the beating of her heart when she thought of him.
It had been an absolutely perfect day.
Chapter Six
Lord Devlin sent a note the next morning saying that he had invited an old family friend, General Overton, to join them at the opera. He also mentioned that Lord and Lady Hampton, his personal friends, would be in his box. They would take separate carriages so as not to crush the ladies.
Nicole was excited about attending the opera with Devlin. She admitted to herself that she thought about him way too often. He had shown her so many facets of his character, but only small glimpses.
