A Visit From Sir Nicholas (40 page)

"I wish the two of you all the best." Teddy started toward the door, then turned back. "She didn't blame the husband, you know, or the wife for that matter—my character, that is. She was simply grateful for the happiness they had shared."

The back of Elizabeth's throat burned and she could barely get out the words. "What happens to her?"

"She goes on with her life. Alone."

"I daresay there will not be a dry eye in the house." Elizabeth struggled to keep her own emotions in check. "I am not an expert on the theater, but don't audiences usually prefer an ending where the heroine lives happily? I know I always have."

"Oh, but my dear Elizabeth, I should have mentioned it before. My character is not the heroine of the piece. She is merely a secondary player. The lead roles in the production, indeed, the love story itself,"

Teddy smiled, "is between the friend and the wife."

Teddy nodded and took her leave.

Elizabeth sank down on the sofa and let the tears she had held back fall freely. She'd been right all along about Charles. It was in many ways gratifying to know for certain that she had understood her husband's nature far better than he had understood hers. Poor, dear Charles. He had found the love of his life when it had been too late to do anything about it. Perhaps if Elizabeth had found the strength and independence of character during her marriage that she had found since, he might have had the courage to confess all to her. They might well have gone their separate ways. Even possibly divorced. But she'd appeared a dependent, vulnerable sort of creature, and he'd been too honorable to abandon her.

Was there indeed peace to be found now in the truth?

Possibly, but no great aura of calm and serenity fell upon her. No overwhelming sense of tranquility swept through her. Simply a terrible sadness and deep regret.

There was, however, a measure of comfort in knowing that Charles had indeed found a grand passion and a joy and a happiness he had not had with her. Elizabeth had cared for him too much to begrudge him that.

She'd always thought she had indeed put the past behind her, until Nicholas had walked back into her life and forced her to face any number of things she'd never had. It struck her that she was as much haunted by the ghosts of the past as Scrooge. Still, settling with the past gave her no clue as to what to do about the future.

Perhaps she needed to put not merely her trust but also her faith in Nicholas and in love and possibly even in fate. And needed as well to put her faith in the magic that shimmered in the air at this special time of year. And heed the words of her sister and believe.

Anything was possible at Christmas.

Effington House was as festive as ever it was at this most festive time of year. Swags of holly and ivy and laurel adorned every railing, topped every door and each and every window. Not a ledge or a nook or a cranny remained untouched. The guests at the Christmas ball were adorned as well and matched their surroundings in their merriest attire and most celebratory mood.

Even in her current state of apprehension, Elizabeth could not fail to appreciate the scent of evergreen and gingerbread that wafted through the halls of the house like a jolly, festive specter. The ghost of Christmas Present, no doubt.

Christopher and Adam and their cousins, together with a sizable number of parents, aunts, and uncles, had spent the better part of the day, as they had every twenty-fourth of December since Elizabeth's childhood, decorating Effington House for Christmas. It was always a delightful time for children and those who fancied themselves adults at any time of year save this. Servants and family bustled about with preparations for the ball and Christmas itself, the work so filled with fun and good cheer that it was scarcely considered work at all but rather a rollicking good time.

The day had started with the dispatch of a sizable contingent, led by Jonathon, a tradition he'd laid claim to years ago, to the Covent Garden market to select a trio of the largest fir trees available. Two would be decorated with all manner of glass fruits and silk ribbons to flank the ballroom doors. The third, decorated as well with a variety of ornaments made by Effington children through the years, including those ornaments that were originally edible but were now more sentimental than palatable, would be placed in one of the parlors to shelter the family's gifts to one another. Inevitably, his mother would comment that the trees were really not as big as she had wished and vow that in the upcoming year, they would grow their own at Effington Park and transport them to London for Christmas. Whether that vow was abandoned for practical reasons or simply slipped her mind with the passage of the season no one knew, nor did anyone ask. That too was a family tradition.

Excitement and anticipation sparkled in the air and sounded in the voices of the children and shone in the eyes of those youngest in age and, as well, those merely young in spirit.

Elizabeth was not immune to the magic of the day. Indeed the joyous laughter of her children and the assorted other Effington relations served to occupy her mind with something other than thoughts of Nicholas. At least for a moment or two.

In the day since the revelation of Teddy's play, Elizabeth had come to any number of conclusions. In many ways, Nicholas was right: She had not found peace, or more accurately made peace, regarding Charles. She had indeed fabricated an excuse for his behavior in her belief, or perhaps simply her hope, that he had found a grand passion. Knowing now that she'd been right lifted a weight she had not realized she carried.

But Nicholas was wrong about trust. Her jealousy was not a matter of trust but of fear. The fear that once again he would vanish from her life under the mistaken assumption that his actions were in her best interests. She wondered now if her initial resistance to having anything whatsoever to do with him upon his return to London had been some sort of instinct to protect herself, or rather, protect her heart. What Nicholas hadn't realized, what had only struck Elizabeth herself sometime shortly after dawn this morning after a second long, sleepless night, was that the weight she had lived with since Charles's death was not due merely to her questions about his actions but to her own sense of guilt. To the nagging suspicion, deep down inside, that somehow she was to blame for Charles's turning to another woman. That in some manner, she had failed. She hadn't, of course, and could now truly understand that Charles had been as fated for Teddy as Elizabeth was for Nicholas. Still, destiny was not necessarily easy. Loving Charles had been safe. Loving Nicholas risked her very soul. She was nearly thirty years of age and had spent much of her life on the sure and safer road, where walking was scarcely any effort at all. It was past time to take the course fraught with peril, where a misstep could send her flying off the edge of a cliff to crash on the rocks below. Ah, but wasn't the view and even the fall itself glorious and well worth the price?

Elizabeth had survived losing Charles to another woman and then to death. She knew, as she'd known nothing else in her life, that she could not survive losing Nicholas.

And she did not intend to do so.

Tonight Elizabeth and Nicholas would come full circle. Jules was right as well. It was more than fitting that all should be settled between them on this of all nights. To begin again where everything between them had once ended.

And, in truth, wasn't Christmas Eve the beginning of hope, the epitome of joy, and the embodiment of love?

Elizabeth hadn't the vaguest idea what she would say to Nicholas or indeed what she would do, but she would absolutely not end this night without a clear understanding between them. He was her grand passion, the love of her life, and regardless of what she had to do, up to and including the admission, again, that she'd been wrong, even perhaps shaded with a hint of groveling, as well as throwing herself at him, so be it. By Christmas Day Nicholas Collingsworth, Sir Nicholas, the future Earl of Thornecroft, would be hers forever. And she would be his.

Precisely as it was meant to be.

Now, all she had to do was find him, which proved to be rather more difficult than she had expected. Certainly, it seemed the crush of guests this year was greater than ever, but that could simply be in her own mind and due entirely to the fact that she was intent upon finding one guest in particular. In addition, each and every person in attendance seemed determined to keep her from her goal with calls of

"Felicitations of the season!" and jovial greetings of "Merry Christmas" and more often than not rapt discussions that began with, "Did you hear about…" It was virtually impossible to avoid any of these conversations, and, even as impatient as she was, Elizabeth gave each and every encounter her full attention.

Still, she kept a sharp eye out for Nicholas, although she had yet to see him. A heavy weight settled in the bottom of her stomach. Surely he hadn't decided not to come at all? No, he had to be here. His uncle was here. Admittedly, that was scarcely significant as the two men no longer shared the same house and therefore would probably not arrive in the same carriage. But Nicholas had promised her mother that he'd be here, and while he might break a promise to Elizabeth, he would never do so to the duchess. Jonathon would know if Nicholas had made an appearance. Of course, Elizabeth scanned the ballroom, Jonathon was nowhere to be seen either. At once the answer of where he might be struck her. She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling, made her way through the crowd, out of the ballroom, and headed toward the library. It was past time Jonathon found a wife, if only to keep the library free during events like this. Once everything was resolved between Nicholas and herself, she would make it her purpose in life to find the perfect match for her brother. Whether he liked it or not.

She reached the library door and yanked it open to come face-to-face with a very flustered Jonathon.

"Did you, by any chance, see anyone… someone…" He craned his neck to see around her.

"Someone?" She stepped past him into the library. "You mean a woman? Very pretty? Rather upset?"

"Yes," Jonathon said with an eagerness that was most intriguing.