Virtue of a Governess (18 page)

“Yes, there are a few things, which worry me, and there are some things I’m sure I’d rather not want to know at all.”

“Am I such an open book then?” he joked, helping her into the carriage and then climbing in after her.

“Don’t make me laugh, brother.” Frances scoffed. “You are anything but open.” She gave him a sly look. “I know that you are still enamoured of dear Nicola.”

He blanched and leaned back into the leather seat to keep his face in shadow. “What makes you think that?”

“Don’t toy with me. You cannot keep your eyes from her.”

“One can look at a beautiful painting without the need to buy it, sister.”

“Not you. When you want something you usually get it.”

“Not always.”

“And not with Nicola it seems. Yes? Though it’s hardly surprising she thinks nothing of you when you antagonise her the way you do.”

“Can we talk about something else before you ruin the entire night?”

Frances gasped and pushed forward in her seat to look at him properly. “So there still is something. I knew it!”

“Gloating is unattractive in a female, Frances.”

“Why can you not make it up with her?”

“When did it become your business I wonder?”

“Nat, please… She is my good friend and you are my brother. Of course I would be thrilled to see you joined as one.”

“And Miss Douglas would rather walk through fire.”

“You know this for certain?”

“Without question.” He tried to ignore the pain this brought.

“But are you honest in this? Do you really mean marriage, a true marriage? You must be sure about it. We’ve seen the consequences of unhappy partnering at first hand.”

“Stop talking, Frances, I beg you.”

“Good lord, you’ve never entertained the idea of wedlock before.” Frances groaned. “Oh my, I think I might have told her that too.”

“Frances!”

“You must talk to her again, Nat.”

“I have, several weeks ago.”

She gasped again. “And?”

“And I was rejected most vigorously.” He gave a sarcastic smile, which became a grimace as the hurt renewed in strength.

“I suppose it is to be expected. You two didn’t become friends from the start. She’s seen too much of your bad ways and been on the receiving end of your cutting words. And I’ve spoken of your ghastly women numerous times.”

“Thank you,” he murmured with heavy sarcasm. “Tell me again why I have anything to do with you?”

She slumped back on the seat. “And that dashing American has been paying attendance to her. He’s been in her company constantly. I’ve hardly seen her myself. You stand no chance against him for he is supremely handsome and so tall. I’ve heard of women swooning just by hearing him talk. It’s his accent, you know.”

Nat gritted his teeth. He’d like to do injury to that
dashing American
. It seemed the whole of the city had become drawn in with that man!

“Lord, I do hope she doesn’t marry him. I’ll never see her again.”

He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. If Nicola married another, his life would be over. It was bad enough her rejecting him, but at least if she lived her life as a spinster working for the Governess Home she’d be close, and he could watch over her from a distance. But to have another man touch her, for him to receive her love… No. He couldn’t bear that.

“Perhaps you should again ask her to marry you, Nat, before he gets the chance.”

“I’ll think about it.” He ground out between clenched teeth. “Now drop the subject, please.”

“Well, don’t leave it too long, for heavens” sake.” She gave an unladylike sniff of disapproval. “If you’d been nicer when you first met Nicola things might have been very different by now.”

“Indeed.” Didn’t she know he’d already gone down that tortuous route? Didn’t she think he’d done nothing but punish himself repeatedly?

“Find your charm and work it on her, Nat. I’m begging you.”

“She sees through it, Fran.” He sighed at the truth of it. “She thinks nothing of me and she is correct to do so.”

The carriage slowed outside the assembly hall and within minutes they were walking into the building, divesting their outer clothes and waiting in the line to be greeted.

“Mr Warner is standing next to his uncle Belfroy,” Frances whispered. She craned her neck to look beyond the tall man in front of them. “Is Nicola there?”

Nat grasped her elbow and they stepped forward. He studied Warner. The man laughed at something a guest said and then he turned and brought Nicola into view, laying a possessive hand on her arm. Not that she seemed to mind. Her face glowed with good health and happiness. Her beauty radiated out to Nat like a beacon. He’d never seen her looking so magnificent. Tonight she wore a shimmering gown the colour of which changed in the lamplight like mother-of-pearl. No woman came close to her.

His throat went dry as they inched closer and finally he shook hands with old Belfroy before moving on to Warner.

“So glad you could attend tonight’s festivities.” Warner’s accent grated on Nat’s raw nerves.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” he muttered, watching Frances and Nicola embrace each other.

Warner cupped Nicola’s elbow. “This is Miss Nicola Douglas, the—”

“I know Miss Douglas.” Nat dismissed him with a nod and stood in front of Nicola. Her lovely eyes dispelled his anger and as she smiled tentatively at him, he fought the urge to crush her into his arms. “Good evening, Miss Douglas.”

She held out her hand and he took it, relishing the warmth of it. “Thank you for coming, Mr West.”

“Will you save me a dance later?”

“That I will.” She lowered her gaze and he felt the need to move on as others came along the line.

Frances took his arm and they walked into the reception room, nodding to acquaintances. Was all of Sydney here tonight? How long would he have to wait before he could claim his dance?

Christ, he needed a drink.

From the corner of her eye, Nicola watched Nathaniel leave the room and enter the ballroom with Frances. Thank heavens no one could see her inner turmoil. Seeing Warner and Nathaniel shake hands was too much. It alarmed her the effect both men had on her. What was she to do? Warner expected an answer tonight, but she couldn’t give him one. Flustered, she turned and found Miss McIntyre behind her. “Oh, Florence, will you stand in for me? I need…”

“Absolutely, Miss Douglas. You’ve been standing there for an hour, go sit yourself down for a moment or two.”

Smiling her thanks, she left her position by the door, only Warner touched her arm, halting her before she could leave the room.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, completely. I just need a drink of water.” The concern in his voice and the look in his eyes made her feel guilty.

“I shall get you one immediately.”

“No, please. I need a moment.”

“Has something upset you?”

“No.”

He frowned. “You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“I have been busy all day. Much depends on tonight’s success.”

The band struck up from the other room and he gave her a cheeky smile, the seriousness vanishing as if it had never been. “I beg the first dance from you. You cannot deny me that?”

“I…” All she wanted was a quiet moment to herself, something she’d not had for the last week with organising new arrivals at the house and the entertainment and requirements for tonight.

“Please?” His boyish charm pulled at her heart.

“Oh, very well.” Her hand on his, they glided into the ballroom and joined the others for the first waltz of the evening.

Dancing in his arms affected her more than she imagined. He was so much taller than her, and with his handsome face and friendly manner he drew smiles from the gathering, and a flutter of fans from the females as he elegantly twirled her around. What woman would say no to this man? She had tried to think rationally about the proposal and what it would mean. Living in America would be exciting, having Hilton’s love would be wonderful, but something nagged at the back of her mind - a sense of being suffocated…

When the music stopped, Frances was instantly beside her, whisking her away to the refreshments room. “You two appear to be great friends.”

“What do you mean?” Nicola nodded her thanks to the maid who gave her a glass of fruit punch.

“You seem very comfortable with him, that’s all.” Frances accepted her glass and they sauntered away into a corner.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together recently, so familiarity is a consequence of that. He’s been heavily involved in establishing the charity, plus the preparation of tonight and the equipping of the Home. There were so many things we needed, more beds and furniture...”

“The way he looks at you has nothing to do with furniture.” Frances sipped her drink, merriment in her eyes.

“He’s asked me to marry him, Fran.” She sighed, relieved at finally having told someone.

Frances’s face drained of colour. “And your answer?”

“I haven’t given it yet. Why are you so shocked?”

“I’m surprised that’s all. He’s not been here long.” Frances concentrated on her drink. “Do you love him, Nicola?”

“I don’t know.” She smiled at a passing couple and said good evening to another before turning back to Frances. “I think I do, but I’m frightened it is more of a brotherly love. I like and esteem him…” She nodded to another gentleman as he passed and lowered her voice. “How do I know what is real? It’s all so complicated.”

“Many marriages are made without love. Is that what you want?”

“No, but I think I could love him easily.”

“I see.” Frances rubbed her finger around the rim of her glass. “And then there is my brother.”

Nicola searched Frances’s face for any hidden clue to her thoughts. “Yes.”

“He has feelings for you, but you do not return them.”

Nicola’s stomach clenched, she felt slightly sick. “I-I am not sure that is completely true either.”

Frances paused in raising her glass. “Which part?”

“Both.”

“Oh, Nic. All I can tell you is that my brother has never been inclined towards marriage or towards any one particular woman. No lady has captured his heart. Until you came along.”

“Captured his heart? A little dramatic don’t you think?”

“He is capable of loving someone, Nicola, despite his behaviour at times.”

“But that is the problem. His behaviour. He isn’t one for marriage, is he? He likes his…companions. How could I believe what he says is the truth?”

“He wouldn’t say it otherwise. There would be no need. He must really mean it for him to even think of uttering such words to you. He is so private and reserved.”

“I could not bear to have a husband who-who…would seek comfort elsewhere after marriage. The humiliation would be too much.”

“Nat is many things, Nicola, but I do not believe he would do that to you. Unless you gave him just cause. Some women do not care for the activities in the bedroom.”

“Heavens, Fran!” She looked wildly about, heat suffusing her face. “This is hardly the place for such a discussion.”

Frances gripped Nicola’s hand. “You mustn’t marry the American. Not if you don’t love him.”

“I know, but...but a part of me wants to. He would be easy to love... I’ve said that once already, haven’t I?” She sighed, torn about making a decision she believed she’d never have to consider. “I know Warner would care for me, he’d support my interests, he already does.”

“But his home is in America.”

“Yes.”

“And I thought you wanted to make your home here, and do good deeds here.”

“I do, but would your brother allow me to work as I do now. I hardly think so.”

“Miss Douglas.”

They both jumped guiltily and spun around to face Mr Belfroy and another gentleman.

Mr Belfroy offered his arm. “Miss Douglas, may I have your attention for a moment to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

“Yes indeed.” She squeezed Frances’s hand and then took Mr Belfroy’s arm just as Nathaniel walked towards his sister.

Nat bowed as the party went by and turned to Frances. “What was your little talk about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She pulled at her lace collar. “I can’t breathe in this heat.”

“You both looked as guilty as each other when I approached, both deep in conversation by the look of it.”

Frances placed her glass on a passing footman’s tray and then took Nat’s arm. “I need air.”

Puzzled by her anxious expression, Nat guided her past the guests and out through a set of French doors to the paved courtyard. Roses grew in wide plant pots. In the distance a horn sounded in the harbour. Frances sat on a stone bench and fiddled with the flimsy rosebuds in her hair.

He studied her. “Talk to me, Fran.”

She flashed him a quick smile and then stared down at the ground. “Do you truly love Nicola? The whole “ever after” sort?”

His chest tightened at the mention of her name. “Yes.”

“She believes you aren’t genuine.”

“You were discussing me, in there?” The champagne he’d recently drunk roiled in his stomach.

“The American has also asked for her hand in marriage.” Fran jerked to her feet and paced. “You have to do something, Nat, or we’ll both lose her.”

He braced his feet apart, hoping it would steady him for at the moment he felt as weak as a newborn kitten. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Has she answered him?”

“Not yet. He expects her reply tomorrow, or even tonight, I think.”

He swore violently under his breath. How rotten was his luck? Was he to go through life forever being overlooked? This time it was his own damn fault for letting his heart rule his head. He didn’t need this agony. It was much better to use the women of the night and leave his days free to do as he pleased. Why ever had he thought to marry, to be with just one woman? All along he’d known it wasn’t what he was about.

“Nat?”

“I have to go.”

“No, Nathaniel.” She caught his arm in a grip that was stronger than most men’s. “If you think I’ll allow you to slink away and deal with this by getting drunk in some brothel for days then you’d best think again.”

“Fran, don’t interfere.”