“You’ve changed your mind,” she said.
“Partially.”
“What does that mean? Why have you been avoiding me?” She almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation in which she found herself. “Everyone is walking on eggshells around me. They all seem to know something is going on, but no one wants to speak of it. I don’t know if they’re trying to spare my feelings or if they pity me.”
“No one wants to hurt you.”
“Including you,” she said softly.
He nodded.
“Will you tell me what happened? Was it something I said or did?”
“No, absolutely not. You are not to blame. In fact, I fear that I am.”
He was making no sense. “I don’t understand.”
He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again and looking at her squarely.
“Your husband’s last episode, the one that nearly killed him… God, I hate to say this. It was my fault.”
She could only stare at him. What was he saying?
“I fail to see how you could possibly be to blame for what happened to my husband. He has a medical condition. This is not the first time this illness has caused him to lose consciousness, though I believe it is the most severe attack he has suffered.”
He was still for a moment, his gaze averted. When he looked at her again, his entire posture had stiffened as though he were bracing himself. From what, she wondered. Her condemnation?
“I know about Nicholas’s episodes. I’ve even witnessed one before now,” Kerrick said.
“Then you know about his medical condition. So, you see, you couldn’t possibly be to blame for what happened.”
He shook his head. “On the contrary.” He exhaled sharply and continued. “Nicholas told me that episodes can be brought on when he drinks. He has seen the same thing happen to his father and brother and has had it happen to him.”
“You gave him something to drink?” she asked, frowning.
“Not directly, no. But I am responsible for him drinking. That night, the one on which he collapsed… well, you already know I’d planned to prick Nicholas’s jealousy. To have him reveal himself to you. I thought I was being so clever.”
“You were,” she said. “And I am grateful you did so. That night confirmed to me that he does have feelings for me. At the very least, I know that he does not find me unattractive.”
Lord Kerrick smiled at that. “I doubt very much that anyone would find you so.”
She colored at the compliment and he continued.
“I fear my maneuverings that night drove him over the edge.”
She shook her head. “That is a little extreme. He didn’t hurt me. In fact, quite the opposite,” she said, her blush deepening.
“Yes, but don’t you see? Nicholas admitted to me that he drank that night after he left you. God!” He turned and paced to the far window. Louisa was stunned as the import of his words sank in. “He will never relent. And this latest episode has only strengthened his resolve. The only thing my stupid game accomplished was to drive my best friend to do the very thing that could end up killing him.”
“No,” she said, seeing how distressed he was. “No. This was not your fault. And remember, I did agree to go along with your plan.”
“I drove him to those drinks, Louisa,” he said, his voice bleak. “As surely as if I’d taken the bottle and placed it in his hand myself.”
Anger sprang within her, a many-headed beast. How dare he! Nicholas knew that drinking was the very last thing he should do and he continued to do it anyway. Was he trying to kill himself? Was being in her presence that difficult for him?
She moved to stand before Kerrick. “You are not to blame for this,” she said. “He is. He devised this plan. He married me after leading me to believe he wanted me to carry his heir. His heir. What a joke,” she said with a small, bitter laugh. “Instead, I find that he wants to hand me over to his best friend. Who does he think he is?”
Now it was her turn to pace. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She had to do something. She didn’t know what exactly, not at first, but then it came to her. She stopped and turned back to Lord Kerrick.
“We will get through this,” she said, her voice firm with resolve. “All of us.”
She left an open-mouthed Kerrick standing in the library and marched belowstairs to handle the matter.
* * * * *
After spending a day in his rooms, Nicholas decided to venture downstairs the following afternoon. He’d recovered from his bout of weakness but didn’t relish the idea of making a grand appearance at dinner. If his valet’s reaction upon seeing him yesterday morning was anything to go by, he knew he’d be the subject of stares and avid curiosity from the household staff. He may as well get it out of the way now. Show everyone he wasn’t an invalid.
Not Louisa, though. He would see her at dinner, but for now he would do his best to avoid her. The revelation of the depth of his feelings for her still unsettled him.
He was surprised at how quickly he grew tired again. Sommers, the footmen, and a few maids had already seen him and he knew word would soon spread to the rest of the staff that he was better. After visiting his grandmother, he decided to go to the conservatory to visit his sister-in-law. He couldn’t see Louisa just yet, but he was hoping to learn how she was doing.
He found Catherine poring over a few books that lay open on a small table in the conservatory, a small notebook and pencil at her side. It appeared she was very serious about cataloging all the plants in his grandmother’s collection. Grandmother loved the colors and scents of the exotic plants she’d acquired over the years, but she’d never bothered to learn more about them.
Catherine beamed when she spotted him, reminding him of her sister when he’d woken yesterday morning, and he felt a pang somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.
“I am so happy to see you up and about, my lord,” she said.
He tsked. “Nicholas, remember? We are family now.”
“Of course,” she said with a smile.
A small dimple appeared in her cheek and it occurred to him that he didn’t know if Louisa had a dimple. She’d rarely had occasion to smile in his presence, and he’d been too addled the previous morning to notice.
Full of bubbling enthusiasm for her task, Catherine jumped to her feet and started to give him a tour. She was excited to share the information she’d discovered about a few of the plants, but after a few minutes he had to pretend that pressing estate matters needed his attention. Aside from feeling a little tired from being on his feet so long, the overpowering smell of all the exotic flowers was beginning to make him feel light-headed. For a horrifying moment he feared he was about to suffer another attack and almost ran to the doors that led out to the garden. Once he escaped the overheated space with its overpowering perfume, he began to breathe a little easier. The crisp autumn air cleared his head and profound relief coursed through him when his dizziness faded completely. Annoyed that he was obviously still feeling the aftereffects of his last attack, he made his way around to the front of the house.
He was able to make his way to his study without running into Louisa, and there he closed the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. He felt more than a little foolish. He was actually skulking about his own home in fear of one small, albeit very beautiful, woman. One whom he knew would never intentionally harm anyone, but who had done more than anyone or anything else to destroy his peace of mind.
If he was going to spend the rest of the day hiding in his study, he might as well try to get some work done. His steward had left him a plan outlining proposed improvements and repairs to several tenants’ homes that would need to be completed when spring arrived. That was still several months away, but he couldn’t guarantee his health would hold long enough for him to oversee estate business later. Much had gone unattended by the last two marquesses after they’d fallen ill, one shortly after the other, and he didn’t want the same thi
ng to happen during his tenure.
He opened his eyes, turned toward his desk, and froze. Seated behind his desk was the one person he’d been avoiding. Louisa.
She looked very different from the woman who’d been in his room the morning before. That woman had been warm, inviting, and far too tempting. The woman before him now was her complete opposite. Her hair was up, not a lock out of place, and her dress was a rich blue that accentuated her paleness and fair hair. It also underscored her icy demeanor.
She leaned back in the chair, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
“You wished to discuss something with me?” he asked when she remained silent.
“Actually, yes.”
He watched with disbelief as she indicated he should take the guest chair. The very cheek of her. Despite the fact he should be annoyed, he found himself curious about this side of his wife. He’d caught a glimpse of it when she’d defied convention to travel alone to his home in order to ask for his help with his cousin. He hadn’t seen it since.
He sat without a word and waited for her to continue.
“I spoke to Lord Kerrick this morning.”
Nicholas’s hands clenched on the arms of his chair before he forced himself to relax and remain impassive. Her words, however, fell like a blow to his stomach. It took him a few moments before he could force himself to speak the lie that was necessary.
“I’m glad to hear the two of you have come to an agreement.”
She looked at him as though he’d lost his senses. “He told me, Nicholas.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “I’ve already explained everything to you. What more was there to tell?”
She made a sound of disgust. A flicker of a nameless emotion crossed her face, but she masked it quickly. For some reason, that made him sad. It appeared he had taught her too well to hold herself aloof from him. It was necessary, of course, but he mourned the loss of her former openness.
“Is that all you can think about? Are you really so anxious for me to bed Lord Kerrick that it wouldn’t occur to you I might be talking about something else?”
He ignored the jibe. “I wish the matter to be settled.”
He’d never spoken truer words. He wanted the ordeal behind them. Wished she was already pregnant with a child who would hopefully be his heir. He didn’t think he could go through with this again if she conceived a girl. The thought of her and Kerrick together, sharing the same passionate kisses the two of them had shared, Kerrick’s hands on her body, covering her… Thoughts of their coupling plagued him without end.
“He told me that your illness is made worse when you drink. He also informed me you admitted you’d been drinking the night you fell ill.” Her calm façade faded as she spoke, to be replaced with a hint of anger “Why, Nicholas? Why would you do such a thing?”
He didn’t reply right away. What was he supposed to say? That he’d been drinking because he hated the very idea of her sleeping with Kerrick, or with any other man? That he’d been drinking to block out the knowledge that he had to continue to push for that very thing to happen despite the fact that every fiber in his being screamed at him to make her his once and for all? That she was making him absolutely crazy?
“I wasn’t exactly thinking of the consequences at the time.”
She could make of that statement what she would. He wasn’t going to discuss it. He stood. “If you’re finished mothering me now, I have work to do. I plan to meet with the steward tomorrow and I have to go through some of his proposals first.”
Her expression changed and Nicholas flinched when he saw the compassion there. The last thing he wanted was her pity. He’d rather have her anger.
“It’s too soon, Nicholas. Whatever you need to discuss, I’m sure it can wait at least a few more days.” She stood and moved around the desk to stand before him. She placed a hand on his arm and continued. “You look tired. Perhaps you should go rest now.”
The heat of her touch burned through the fabric of his coat. For a moment he could only stand there and breathe in her clean scent while he fought the urge to pull her to him. It was true he was a little fatigued, but he was fairly certain he had enough energy to finally tear down the wall that stood between them. A wall entirely of his own making.
In the end, he took a step back and her hand fell.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, moving around her and dropping into the seat she’d abandoned.
He didn’t watch as she crossed the room. Before leaving, she turned and waited until he looked up at her.
“I have instructed the staff to clear away any spirits you keep here and in the library. They have also disposed of the bottles in storage.”
She left without waiting for his response
Nicholas buried his head in his hands. If his illness didn’t do it first, his wife was going to be the death of him.
* * * * *
Dinner was a somber affair. Lady Overlea assumed Nicholas was taking dinner in his room, but Sommers had informed Louisa he’d gone out just before dinner. Louisa kept that information to herself, however. She knew the older woman was still worried about her grandson, but she would worry more if she knew he was away from home. Louisa was concerned enough for the both of them, although her worry was partially allayed by the fact that he had taken the carriage and a driver.
Lord Kerrick had also gone out earlier in the day and had not yet returned home. Louisa wasn’t surprised since he now seemed determined to stay away from her so as not to provoke Nicholas further. Catherine had pouted when she learned he would be away again, but she rallied quickly. She kept the conversation going over dinner, sharing what she had learned about some of the more exotic of the plants in the conservatory.
Louisa had never been very interested in gardening, and so her thoughts kept drifting back to her husband. She’d known him for such a short period of time and had spent most of that time separated from him, yet somehow she could not imagine her life without him. His very presence commanded attention. He wasn’t a man who could be ignored, and if anything were to happen to him she knew she would feel his loss keenly.
As if by mutual consent, they all drifted off to their rooms after dinner. Once there, Louisa’s gaze settled, as it often did, on the door that connected her room to Nicholas’s. She knew the door was unlocked, but neither she nor Nicholas had ever used it. Not even when he was ill and she’d spent most of her time in his bedroom. It hadn’t seemed right. To use the connecting door was too intimate. Something a true husband and wife would use to join their spouse for the night. She and Nicholas didn’t have that type of relationship, so she had used the more formal method of entering his room through the hallway door.
She was sorely tempted to use that connecting door now. She worried what condition her husband would be in when he returned home. Would he be ill again or merely tired after exerting himself so soon after his last attack? And what would he do if he found her waiting for him in his bedroom? She gave a small self-deprecating laugh at her imagination. If he wasn’t having another attack when he came home, he’d be annoyed and would send her back to her rooms.
She rang for her maid and prepared for bed. She was too worried to try to fall asleep until she knew Nicholas was home, so instead settled onto her bed to read. She must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing she knew a noise had startled her awake. A quick glance at the clock told her it was after midnight.
The noise came again—footsteps in the hallway. She sat up and put away the book that lay open beside her on her bed. She heard the murmur of a voice, then Nicholas’s in reply as they moved past her bedroom door. Needing to see for herself that he was well, she went to the door, opened it, and peered out into the hall. Nicholas and his valet stood before the door to his rooms, and as one they turned to look at her. She took a step forward, then froze when she saw the expression on her husband’s face.
Guilt.
Fury overwhelmed her and stole
her voice. Unable to speak at that moment, she returned to her room and slammed the door.
She paced for some time, her anger growing with each passing minute. She heard the muffled voices of the two men in the next room and wondered just how much Nicholas had imbibed.
The murmuring finally stopped and the muffled sound of a door closing told her that Harrison had left. As the silence from the other side of the door stretched on, worry started to overcome her anger. What if Nicholas suffered another attack and wasn’t discovered again until morning? She went to the door that connected their rooms but stopped, undecided, before it. If he wasn’t ill, he wouldn’t welcome her intrusion.
She was turning away from the door, her shoulders slumped in dejection, when a loud crash sounded. The last remaining vestiges of her anger and uncertainty evaporated as visions of Nicholas collapsing and lying at death’s door in the next room flashed through her mind. Without another thought, she flung open the connecting door and stepped through it. Nicholas sat on the edge of the bed, his head cradled in his hands. The source of the crash soon became evident. A chair lay on its side at the base of one plaster wall that now bore markings from the impact of the chair. Concerned more by his posture than the unmistakable sign of his anger, she took several steps into the room. She froze, however, when Nicholas lifted his head and stared at her. His eyes, dark with an unnamed emotion, seemed to see right through her.
Uncertain now as to his mood, she licked her lips in a nervous gesture. His eyes moved briefly to her mouth and his jaw tightened.
“I feared you might be unwell.” Though spoken softly, her words seemed almost too loud in the silence that threatened to engulf them both.
He merely sat there, unmoving, his intent stare pinning her where she stood. His gaze swept over her figure and she realized she stood there only in her nightgown. The one made for her wedding night that was sheer and showed far more than she was used to displaying. The intimacy of the situation was almost too much to bear. Nicholas appeared almost angry, and expecting a curt dismissal, she took a step back.
Loving the Marquess (Landing a Lord Book 1) Page 16
