Christina sighed. “All right, I do admit he is acting rather strangely, but I wouldn’t call it disturbing, nor do I mind the change. Perhaps he is beginning to heal from all that has happened to him. I believe having his nephew in his life has made him see that life is too important to hide from.”
Helen shook her head, causing her ringlets to bob like dangled sausages about her head. “I do not believe it is his nephew that has wrought this change, Christina. I believe it is because of you.”
Christina studied her friend’s grave countenance. “Helen, I don’t think. . .”
“I believe the earl has developed affections for you of a most romantic nature!” Helen blurted.
If only it were so, Christina thought. But she knew better. “Perhaps he’s beginning to realize he cannot keep himself shut off from the world. I’m sure it is for his nephew’s sake that he is coming about.”
Helen started to argue the point when the biggest gossip in Malbury, Mrs. Blaylock, caught sight of them as she stepped out of one of the little shops along the way. She was dressed in her usual colorful, flamboyant style, today wearing a taffeta dress of green and pink stripes. Upon her head she wore an elaborate turban of the same fabric with a bright peacock feather sprouting up in the front.
“Oh, dear,” Christina whispered to Helen. “She’s headed this way as if she’s on a mission.”
“Perhaps it’s to tell us where in all of England you can actually purchase that particular green and pink striped fabric. Do you think she has it specially made?” Helen whispered back.
“Hmm,” was all Christina could reply, for Mrs. Blaylock had already reached them.
“Why, good morning, Mrs. Blaylock! God has surely favored us with a beautiful sunny day, has He not?” Christina sang out with her usual cheery smile, as both she and Helen bobbed a quick curtsy.
“Indeed He has,” Mrs. Blaylock returned, although her smile was more calculating than pleasant. “It has also been an informative one.”
By the way the woman looked at her, Christina had a sinking feeling that her information had something to do with her going to Kenswick Hall every day. “Well, that’s wonderful, Mrs. Blaylock. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really have to be—”
“Yes, indeed. When I saw his lordship, I couldn’t understand what he was doing in town, but now that I’ve run into you, why it all makes perfect sense,” she interrupted, her peacock feather bobbing up and down as she talked.
Christina was so shocked at hearing Lord Thornton was strolling about Malbury that the insinuation flew right past her. “You’re joking! Are you sure it was he?” she exclaimed.
“Come, come, Miss Wakelin. There’s no need for pretense. We are friends and neighbors after all.”
This time there was no misunderstanding.
And this woman was no friend.
“I can assure you, Mrs. Blaylock, I had no idea that Lord Thornton would be in town, but I’ll admit I am happily surprised. Since losing his father and brother, he has let sadness overwhelm him,” she said coolly to the busybody. “So I’m sure you’ll agree it is indeed a blessing from God to see his heartbreak mending enough for him to be able to face society once again.”
Christina should have known a mild set-down would not deter her. “Or perhaps it is because you have spent so much time with him, that he is making a fast recovery.”
“Indeed, I know that cannot be correct. I’ve spent time only with his nephew and rarely with Lord Thornton.”
“And then only with me as her chaperone!” Helen interjected in a surprising show of boldness. Usually her friend ran from confrontations.
Mrs. Blaylock, while not looking fully convinced, knew she would not get the information she wanted to hear. “It never entered my mind that you would have been without a chaperone,” the gossiper said with mock innocence.
“We really should get that book your father wanted before the noon hour, Christina,” Helen broke in, and Christina quickly seized the lifeline her friend had thrown her.
“You are right. Good day, Madam. I trust we’ll see you at church on Sunday?”
“As always,” the woman replied as she swept past them, leaving a wake of oversweet perfume.
As they continued on into town, Helen voiced her concern. “I do not like this, Christina. She could hurt your reputation with her speculations about you and the earl!”
“Nonsense, Helen. Anything that woman says is of no consequence, and everyone in Malbury knows it.” Christina didn’t know what it mattered anyway. She never had a single offer for her hand, and there seemed to be no prospects looming over the horizon. If she were doomed to be an old maid, she’d rather be an interesting one!
They spent about ten minutes in the bookstore and purchased the book her father had asked for. Just as they stepped out of the store, Jane Phillips and her mother joined them. While Jane was a sweet, friendly girl, her mother was quite the opposite, especially since her husband had been knighted. This elevated station, in Mrs. Phillips’s mind, put them above their country neighbors, and she never let anyone forget about it.
They greeted Jane and Mrs. Phillips, and before they could say another word, Mrs. Phillips said, “I don’t suppose you ladies have heard the news?”
“You’ll never guess who has been seen riding through town!” Jane blurted.
“Don’t gush, Dear. It’s so unbecoming,” her mother scolded.
Jane, standing in front of her mother, rolled her eyes in exasperation, as Christina answered, “Yes, we have heard Lord Thornton was seen about town this morning.”
For a moment Mrs. Phillips just stared at Christina blankly. “My word, I did not know that particular bit of news. No, no, Dear. Something much more exciting.”
“It was the Duke of Northingshire. Oh, we saw his grand black coach with a stunningly painted ducal crest on either side. And most amazing of all was that it was seen going toward Kenswick Hall!”
“I hear his grace has beautiful estates in both England and Scotland,” Helen commented, and Christina had no doubt it was true. Helen was so fascinated with the nobles that she hoarded every word printed or said about them. She probably knew more about these strangers than she did about the members of her own family!
“Of course he has extensive estates, my dear. He is one of the wealthiest dukes in all of England,” Mrs. Phillips added, not to be outdone. She then turned her gaze to Christina. “I hear you have become acquainted with Lord Thornton recently. Perhaps you might know the nature of his grace’s visit.”
“I have only assisted with the earl’s nephew and his nanny. I would not know anything about a visit from the Duke of Northingshire,” Christina replied, silently adding, and I bet Lord Thornton doesn’t know either!
Mrs. Phillips smiled haughtily. “Of course you wouldn’t know, Dear. Though his standing with the ton is not on the best terms at the moment, he is after all still the Earl of Kenswick.”
Christina exchanged a look with Jane, who mouthed the words “So sorry.” She smiled at her friend and looked back at Mrs. Phillips. “On that you are correct, Madam.” She held up the package she carried. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we must get this book to my father.”
“Yes, and we must find out how long the duke will be in residence at Kenswick so we might issue an invitation to join us for a small dinner party.” She smiled fondly at her daughter. “There is so little society here in Malbury and certainly no peers from whom Jane can choose a husband.”
Embarrassment lit Jane’s face as she said a quick good-bye and hurried her mother on into town.
Christina immediately turned to Helen. “The poor earl! He has no idea the Duke of Northingshire is coming to visit!”
“Never mind that,” Helen interjected. “I still cannot get over the fact the duke is here in our little town. Oh, Christina, I have heard he is the most handsome man in all of England! Everyone has been speculating all year that he’ll choose a bride soon.”
“Helen! We have a much
bigger problem!” Christina said. She didn’t know of the duke’s relationship with Lord Thornton, but if it were a bad one, she didn’t want his visit to undo everything she had managed to accomplish.
Helen’s eyes lit up. “Perhaps we should go to Kenswick Hall now. Oh, Christina, to think of being in the same room with such an exciting man just makes my heart all aflutter,” she gushed, clutching her hands to her heart.
Christina laughed. “Come, come, Helen. We are talking about a duke who probably thinks too much of himself and wouldn’t even notice us if we stood right in front of him. All noblemen are very much alike in that respect.”
“Lord Thornton has surely noticed you, Christina. I will admit he was a little scary at first, but he has proven to be quite the amusing gentleman in the last week.”
Christina relented. “Well, perhaps not all of them are stuffed shirts,” she said with a giggle. “But nearly all the rest are!”
Helen sighed. “And perhaps the Duke of Northingshire is one of the exceptions to the rule as Lord Thornton is.”
It would seem there would be no talking her out of it. Helen was bound and determined to admire the duke, just as she had been bound and determined to like Nicholas Thornton, the Earl of Kenswick. Perhaps a little visit to the hall to make sure all was right would have a double benefit—she could find out if the duke’s visit had upset Lord Thornton, and Helen could see for herself what kind of man the duke was, thus curing all attractions.
“Why don’t we stop by Kenswick Hall and find out for ourselves,” she told her friend, making up her mind it was the right thing to do.
Helen squealed with delight. “Oh, I am so excited I feel I might burst with happiness!”
“Just make sure you do your bursting after we depart, Helen. I would not have you embarrass yourself in front of the duke,” Christina teased.
❧
“The Duke of Northingshire is here to see you, my lord,” Pierce announced from the study doorway. So rattled by the news was Nicholas that he unconsciously crumpled the paper he’d been making sketches on for his next carving.
When he didn’t answer, Pierce cleared his throat and offered, “Would you like me to make excuses, my lord?”
“No!” Nicholas burst out without thinking. But as he said it, he knew that he meant it. North, as he called him, had been his best friend since their days at Eton. Months ago, in his bitterness, he shunned his friend’s offer to help and in doing so thought he’d severed their bond.
Could this mean North had forgiven him?
“Send him in here, Pierce.” And then as an afterthought, “Please have a pot of tea brought in also.”
Pierce bowed. “Very good, Sir.”
A minute later, Trevor Kent, the Duke of Northingshire, stepped into the room. North had such a commanding presence about him that even when he walked into a crowded room, a hush would fall and all eyes would turn to him. He was quite a favorite with the ladies, Nicholas knew. With his light blond hair and strong features, he’d heard him likened to Michelangelo’s David.
Nicholas, however, knew him to be the faithful friend he’d turned his back on when he’d only been trying to help. They’d always been honest with one another, but when North had advised him against breaking his engagement and to curb his wild ways, Nicholas had blown up at him. He told North to stay out of his business and his life, that he didn’t need his friendship any longer.
What a fool he’d been. He was so eaten up with self-hatred and bitterness, he’d allowed himself to lose his best friend.
Nicholas stood slowly. Swallowing nervously, not knowing what to say, he finally spoke formally. “It is good to see you, Your Grace.”
North grinned. “Well, I must say you are looking better than I imagined. From the accounts of my servants, you’ve been moping around this empty monstrosity of a house feeling quite sorry for yourself.” He drew his gaze to Nicholas’s well-cut coat and neatly tied cravat. “I rather expected to see you dressed in sack cloth and ashes, instead of a suit of fine clothes.”
All the tension drained out of Nicholas as he smiled and came around his desk to greet his friend. “If you had come a month ago, that is exactly what you would have found.” The men clasped hands in a firm, hearty shake. “But I am glad you have come, old friend. I was afraid I had lost your friendship forever.”
With his other hand, North gripped his shoulder. “I’ll admit to being a little angry at you but when I had time to think on all you’d been through, I knew you just needed time.” He stepped back and looked down at Nicholas’s leg. “How’s that wound healing, by the way? I’m amazed that you walk with barely a limp, considering the doctors had wanted to cut it off!”
Nicholas smoothed a hand down his thigh where the war wound still gave him trouble. “It is better at some times than others,” he explained. “But like all the unpleasant events that have happened to me over the last year and a half, I’m learning to live with it.”
Moving to the side, he gestured to a couple of chairs in the room. “Please, have a seat. Our tea should arrive in a moment.”
North lifted a brow. “Tea? I must say, it’s good to see you are not still drinking yourself silly.”
Nicholas grimaced. “I gave that up months ago when I moved into Kenswick. Even in my bitter state, I could see that drinking was only making it worse. So I had decided to shut myself away from the world and wallow in my guilt and grief until. . .” He let his voice drift off.
But North wasn’t about to let it go. “Until. . .?”
“Well, until my nephew was given to my care.”
“Ah!” North sat back in the cushioned chair, folding his arms on his chest. “So the Wild Rogue of London has finally been tamed by domesticity! I would have thought you’d have shipped the little fellow off to a relative or something. Certainly not try to raise him yourself.”
“Well, that is exactly what I wanted to do, except my only living relative, Aunt Wilhelmina, is abroad at the moment. I had no choice but to hire a nan—” He stopped when he saw the grin that creased the big man’s face. “Of course. I should have known you had something to do with it.”
“Mrs. Sanborne was the nanny for my elder sister’s children until they were old enough for a governess and tutor,” he explained with a shrug. “I had asked several people about Malbury to keep me informed if you needed anything. When I heard a Miss Wakelin was scouring the shire looking for a nanny, I immediately sent Mrs. Sanborne to her.”
Nicholas shook his head in amazement. “You mean you’ve been looking out for me, even after all I said to you?”
North sat up in his chair, his light blue eyes very serious. “You are my friend, Nicholas. Nothing, not even a few ill-spoken words, will change that.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nicholas could only stammer, “I. . .thank you.”
North sat back again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s been awhile, old friend, but I can still read you like a book. When you stumbled on your words earlier, you were not going to say your nephew, were you?” He shook a finger at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to mention a woman’s name.”
“And you are grasping for straws!”
“Oh, no.” North studied his friend’s face thoroughly, giving Nicholas the feeling he could read his mind. “There is something about you that’s different, and it could only be two things—either religion or a woman.”
Nicholas threw back his head and laughed, just as a maid entered with the tea and proceeded to pour them a cup. He waited until she left the room before he responded. “In my case, those two things go hand in hand.” When North gave him a questioning look, he took a sip of his hot tea and said, “She’s the vicar’s daughter.”
Ten
“The what?” he sputtered. Nicholas thought for a moment North was going to choke on his tea.
Suddenly, the earl was no longer hesitant of telling his friend about Christina. He needed to talk to somebody about it. “M
iss Wakelin, the lady to whom you sent Mrs. Sanborne, is the true reason I have begun living life once again.”
North patted his mouth with his napkin. “Nicholas, there was a time when you would not even look a young lady’s way unless she was no less than the daughter of a viscount!” He paused a moment, as if measuring his next words. “That is the main reason you became engaged to Katherine.”
Nicholas nodded. “I know, but I think differently now. She has changed me.” He stood and started pacing about the room as he searched for the words to explain. “She is different from any woman I have ever known. She is funny and kind, yet determined. She doesn’t simper and talk about silly things like so many other ladies, and she speaks without guile, in a straightforward manner that I find refreshing.” He threw up his hands. “She has won over the whole staff here at Kenswick Hall, practically has them eating out of her hand, yet she isn’t manipulative, she’s just. . .herself,” he said, unable to find the appropriate words.
“This is unbelievable,” North said, and Nicholas whirled around ready to do battle over those words. But when he saw the look of amused yet puzzled incredulity on his friend’s face, he came over and sat back down.
“Why is it so hard to believe?” he asked calmly as he picked up his cup again.
“You are in love with her!”
Nicholas balked at the use of the “L” word. “I never said that.”
North shook his head. “You didn’t have to. It was in your face, your words, as you spoke of her.” He paused for a moment, his gaze intently on Nicholas. “Love is so rare, Nick, that when you find it, you have to acknowledge it.”
Nicholas let North’s words penetrate his heart. Did he love Christina? He was certainly fond of her, so much so he seemed to crave her company all the time. But still, with all that had happened to him, he needed to sort through his feelings before he could make such an acknowledgment to himself.
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