No Other Love (13 page)

Nicola wrinkled her brow, trying to recall, then sighed and dropped down into her chair.
This was all absurd. It didn’t really matter whether Richard could have done it, because the fact remained that there was no reason for him to.
Richard least of all would have been after any valuables, and while he had once greatly desired her, surely he would not do anything so foolish as to try to force himself on his own wife’s sister! Only driving, obsessive lust would cloud his judgment so, she thought, and she had not seen any sign that he regarded her with anything except cynical antagonism. In all these years that she had been forced to be around him at parties or with her sister, he had never once importuned her with even a kiss or caress. He could perhaps have wanted to search her room for some reason—to discover evidence that she knew something more about the highwayman than she let on, perhaps? He seemed a trifle suspicious in that regard. However, Nicola knew that it would have been far easier for him to have searched her room this afternoon while she was out of the house than to sneak in at night while she was lying right there, easily awakened, and then rummage about in the dark.

It was all so unlikely that it was enough to make her wonder if she really had dreamed the whole incident, Nicola thought with a grim twist of humor. However, the throbbing in her cheek was enough to remind her that the incident was all too real. The intruder had hit her; she would be lucky if she didn’t have a bruise the next day.

And
that,
she reminded herself, was ample proof that the intruder had not been the highwayman. She was certain that he would not have hit her. Why, he had not raised a hand to her when she had provided him with much more reason by slapping him. Her intruder had been both ungentlemanly and cowardly, two things the highwayman definitely was not.

A faint smile played upon Nicola’s lips. Well—perhaps the highwayman had not acted in a precisely gentleman-like manner. She leaned her head back against the high-backed chair and let her mind drift to earlier this evening. He had behaved reprehensibly, of course, and she hoped never to see him again—and if she did, she certainly would not act in the fuzzy-headed way she had this evening. However, she could not help wondering about the man.
Where did a man like that come from? What had set him on this course? Was he a gentleman, a knave, or something in between?

And, most of all, why did he alone, of all the men in England, have such an effect on her?

A
FTER HER ADVENTURES THE NIGHT BEFORE
,
Nicola rose rather later than usual. She found, when she moved aside the chair and opened the door, that the maid had come and, being unable to open the door, had left a tray with a pot of tea and a plate of toast. The tea was still warm, and Nicola drank a cup of it, then dressed and went forth to find her sister. Deborah was not in the dining room, but Nicola paused long enough to have a rather fresher cup of tea and a few pieces of toast with butter and mouth-watering strawberry jam.

One of the maids informed her that her sister was feeling “low” this morning and had remained in bed, so after her light breakfast, Nicola went upstairs to Deborah’s room. She opened the door quietly and poked her head inside. Deborah was awake and lying on her side in the massive dark bed, her eyes huge and shadowed, as though charcoal had been smudged beneath them.

“Nicky…” Deborah gave her a wan smile. “I am afraid I’m not feeling quite the thing this morning.”

“His little lordship is making his presence known today,” a woman’s voice said crisply, and she stood up from a chair on the other side of Deborah’s bed.

Nicola refrained from remarking that the baby must be remarkably like his father, then, if he made his presence known in such an obnoxious manner. She studied the woman, who was well past middle age, with iron-gray hair severely clubbed back and pinned. Her clothes were gray, with starched white collar and cuffs, and her eyes, too, were the hue of a winter sky, so that she seemed to be all one color. She was tall and stiff-backed despite her age, seemingly almost in defiance of it, and she had a face that Nicola wagered had rarely been visited by a smile.

“Oh, Nicola, I’m sorry. You have not met Nurse Gregory,” Deborah said quickly. “This is Nurse Gregory, the Earl’s nurse when he was a child. Nurse, this is my sister Nicola Falcourt. Nurse comes to sit with me when I am not feeling well,” Deborah said in explanation.

“His lordship was so kind as to give me a cottage on the estate to retire to,” Nurse said in a heavy, formal tone. “I can do no less for him than to care for his heir.”

Nicola thought that this formidable woman was the last person she would want to have sitting with her if she felt ill. Deborah looked rather intimidated by the woman, frankly. Nicola gave the nurse a brief, cool smile.

“It is nice to meet you, Nurse Gregory. It was very kind of you to help my sister. But now that I am here, I shall sit with her. Shall I read to you, Deb?”

Deborah brightened. “Oh, yes, that sounds nice.” She turned uncertainly toward the older woman. “If that’s all right with you, Nurse?”

“I am sure Nurse Gregory would welcome an opportunity to rest,” Nicola said, not giving the woman a chance to speak. “It was kind of her to come, but doubtless she would prefer to be under her own roof.”

Nicola turned her gaze on the other woman, as flat and ungiving as the older woman’s. Nurse Gregory had little choice but to give in, which she did with little grace, packing up her knitting bag and marching out with only a perfunctory goodbye to Deborah. Deborah watched the door close behind her and sighed.

“Oh, dear, I hope she isn’t angry. Richard does so dislike it that I have never warmed up to his old nurse.”

“Having met her gives me more of an insight into why Richard is the way he is,” Nicola commented dryly.

A giggle bubbled out of Deborah, and she looked fractionally better. “Oh, Nicky, you shouldn’t say such things. But she
is
grim, isn’t she?”

“Very. Nothing at all like our nurse.”

“Oh, no!” Deborah’s face warmed even more as she remembered the plump, apple-cheeked woman who had cared for her and Nicola when they were young. “Nurse was such a dear. Always so cheerful. Remember how she used to sing to us? And the hot chocolate she made? Mmm, I’d love some of that now.”

“Would you? Then I’ll ring for a maid and have Cook make you a cup. I am sure it will not match Nurse’s, but it will cheer you up a little, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes. I am sorry that I’m so blue. It’s silly of me, I know. Other women go through this all the time—and so much more easily than I.”

“Nonsense. It doesn’t matter what other women do. You
are
the only one I worry about. You are my baby sister, and you must let me coddle you.”

Nicola pulled the bell cord for a maid, and when she arrived, bobbing a curtsey, ordered a small pot of hot chocolate and a plate of toast for her sister.

“You know,” she said, after the maid had left, “I just had a thought. Why not write Nurse and ask her to come stay with you and care for you?”

A smile broke across her sister’s face like sunshine, then just as quickly vanished. “Oh, no, I could not do that. Nurse Gregory’s feelings would be hurt, and Richard would not like that.”

“I shall talk to Richard,” Nicola replied. “I am sure that your husband would want you to have the person who made you feel the most comfortable and happy. After all, it is not only his wife, but his heir, at issue here. I am sure he wants only the best for you. He doesn’t know that you would prefer your old nurse unless you tell him. He probably thinks you are quite happy with Nurse Gregory, but that is scarcely the truth.”

“Oh, please, you mustn’t….”

“Don’t fret,” Nicola reassured her quickly. “I won’t upset Richard, and it will be he, not you, who tells Nurse Gregory that your old nurse is coming to take care of you. There is nothing for you to worry about. Once Nurse is here, you will feel ten times better, I promise you.”

Doubt warred with pleasure on Deborah’s face. “It would be nice to have Nurse here….”

“If Richard doesn’t approve of the idea, it won’t happen, will it?” Nicola remarked. “So you needn’t worry about it. Now, why don’t I read to you for a little while? Your chocolate should be here soon, and then you might take a little nap.”

“Yes, that sounds nice,” Deborah agreed, happy to let go of the other problem.

The maid brought the pot of chocolate and the toast, and Deborah, propped up on pillows and listening to Nicola, managed to get down most of it. Later, Nicola tucked her in and left her sleeping peacefully, with one of the maids to watch over her in case she awakened and needed anything.

Nicola went back to her room and quickly pulled on her riding habit, then set forth on a few errands of her own. First she rode over to call on her aunt, Lady Buckminster. It was only polite to pay her respects to her aunt now that she was staying nearby, but Nicola had a further plan in mind, which required her aunt’s complicity. Lady Buckminster, a pleasant, easygoing woman, was happy to see her niece and just as agreeable to the scheme Nicola suggested.

Afterward, Nicola rode to the village to check on the child she had treated the day before. The boy was doing much better, as were his parents, and Nicola rode back to Tidings, glancing around now and then as she rode. She half expected the highwayman to pop up somewhere—though, of course, that was
not
why she had come, she reminded herself—but he did not appear. Nicola could not deny the faint sense of disappointment she felt. It was, she told herself, only because the highwayman provided a certain excitement.

She spent the rest of the afternoon reading to her sister again, and the two of them ate a private supper from a tray in Deborah’s bedroom, with Nicola teasing and cajoling her sister into eating a little chicken and bread. Nicola went to bed early that night, positioning the chair under the knob as she had the night before, but she found herself unable to sleep, tossing and turning and thinking about the highwayman.

The next day Deborah was feeling better, her morning sickness subsided, and she dressed and came downstairs to the sitting room in the afternoon. Lady Buckminster came to call on them, bringing with her the vicar’s wife, which brought Richard in from his office to greet the ladies.

Nicola smiled to herself. So far her plan was working perfectly. They alluded in a genteel way to Deborah’s health, then Lady Buckminster said cheerfully, “You know what would be just the thing for you, Deb? You ought to send to Larchmont for your old nurse. That would make you feel much better.”

“My nurse has been taking care of Deborah,” Richard proffered. “She is quite good.”

“Of course she is, but Nurse Gregory’s getting up in years, there’s no denying that. She would probably be grateful for a little relief. Besides, there’s nothing like one’s
own
nurse, is there, Deborah?”

Deborah glanced a little nervously toward her husband. “I am sure that Nurse Gregory is quite good,” she demurred.

“Oh, don’t be so missish, Deb,” Lady Buckminster replied in her hearty way. “You know you want your own nurse. Men don’t understand these things, I’m afraid.” She glanced at Richard. “I’m sure you’ll agree, Exmoor. I know my own dear husband just gave me carte blanche to do what I wished during my ‘times.’”

“Of course. If that is what Deborah wishes…” Richard gave Lady Buckminster a perfunctory smile.

“Good. Then that’s settled,” Lady Buckminster said with a decisive nod. “I’ll send for her as soon as I get home. What was her name?”

“Owens. Gladys Owens,” Nicola supplied smoothly, smiling to herself. She had been certain that there was nothing that Richard could do but comply to the request, coming as it did from Lady Buckminster and with the vicar’s wife present. To have done anything else would have seemed churlish.

Nicola turned and saw Richard watching her, a small, sardonic smile on his lips. Later, after her aunt and the vicar’s wife had left, Richard turned to her and said mildly, “Really, my dear sister, you did not need to engage in such stratagems to get your old nurse installed here.”

“Stratagems?” Nicola asked with supreme innocence. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Come, come, you mustn’t take me for such a fool as to believe I think that Lady Buckminster would ever think of sending for Deborah’s nurse to care for her—unless, of course, Nurse Owens were a noted horsewoman. This has your handiwork all over it.”

“I shall tell her not to, if you don’t want her to come, Richard,” Deborah offered.

“Nonsense. If your nurse would make you feel better, by all means send for her. If I had known that you did not like Nurse Gregory, I would not have—”

“I do not dislike her,” Deborah began, looking distraught. “It is just that my nurse is, well, so familiar.”

“Of course.” The Earl shrugged and smiled. “I understand perfectly. And that is exactly who you should have. But there was no need for the secrecy.” He turned toward Nicola. “Someday, Nicola, you are going to have to stop casting me as the villain of your little scenarios.”

“Villain!” Deborah gasped. “Oh, no, Richard, you must not think that—”

“Really, Deborah, I know
you
do not think so.” Impatience tinged his voice, and Deborah quickly subsided. “It is your sister who makes me out to be one.”