The Phantom Lover (25 page)

“
No
!” His voice was gruff. “I won't allow it. I know you must marry one day—I even realize that your eventual marriage is
a consummation devoutly to be wished
. But not yet. And not to him.”

“That is not for you to say,” she reminded him gently, and she quietly left the room.

He stood staring out of the window until long after the moon had disappeared. Eventually, in the darkest part of the night, just before dawn, he gave up his senseless vigil and went to bed.

Chapter Seventeen

N
ELL'S WITHDRAWAL FROM
the race would have caused great comment had not the news of her second betrothal to Nigel (and her fourth betrothal in less than a year) superceded it. There was much material for gossip in the liaison. For one thing, Nigel had quarreled with his mother over it, and Lady Imogen Lewis had let it be known that she thoroughly disapproved of the match. For another, Miss Belden had seemed to turn over a new leaf, and everyone wondered how long it would be before she would break loose and perpetrate some new outrage. When Edwina repeated this nonsense to Lord Thorne, he merely said in his driest tone that he hoped she would commit her outrage very soon, since she was being maligned in any case.

But Nell committed no outrage. She accompanied Nigel meekly to the opera, the theater and the few social gatherings to which they were invited. She behaved and dressed modestly and held her tongue, even when sorely pressed to utter something sharp. Nigel was very pleased with her, and with himself for what he thought of as his success at taming her to the bridle.

Nell and Harry did not see each other except when occasionally passing on the stairs or meeting awkwardly in the breakfast room. But Harry could not help but note her pallor, her lack of sparkle and her air of hopeless passivity. Helpless to do anything to alleviate her plight, he grew daily more embittered and unhappy. One evening, having joined Roddy at White's, he left the gaming table for a breath of air near one of the open windows. While standing there, he overhead Nigel discussing his betrothed with a crony whose voice Harry didn't recognize. “It's just as I've always said,” Nigel was boasting. “Women must be treated exactly as one would a nervous thoroughbred. One has to know when to let her run wild and when to rein her in. When she's skittish, give her a little rope, but when the time is right, pull her back with a firm hand. That's what the she-devils need—a firm hand. Look at my Nell now. Completely broken to the bridle. She's as docile as any sweet goer in my stable.”

Harry clenched his hands until the knuckles showed white. He would have liked to murder the man with his bare fists. To think of Nell married to that damnably arrogant scoundrel made him physically sick. He remained at the window until he'd regained his self-control, but when he returned to the table he could no longer concentrate on the cards.

Roddy noticed his agitation and suggested that they depart early. The two friends walked silently down St. James Street, Roddy waiting patiently for Harry to reveal what was on his mind. He did not have long to wait.

“Do you remember, Roddy, making a remark—some time ago—that, if she'd have you, you'd snatch up a girl like Nell? You called her a ‘regular out-and-outer.'”

“Yes, of course I remember. And so she is,” Roddy said with enthusiasm, but at the same time keeping a wary eye on his friend's face. “Why?”

“If you still feel that way, why don't you make her an offer?” Harry suggested, a weariness in his voice revealing the effort it had cost him to say those words.

Roddy looked at him suspiciously. “This is a queer start. Are you up to something smoky?”

“Not at all,” Harry assured him. “I've never been more in earnest.”

“But the girl's betrothed!”

“I know. That's just it. I can't stand by and let her wed that … that bumptious
maw-worm
!”

Roddy nodded with sudden understanding and fingered his mustache thoughtfully. “I won't say that I don't agree with you, but what on earth has chanced to put you on your high ropes so suddenly?”

“I overheard Sir Nigel tonight, conversing about his bride-to-be. The damned blackguard actually bragged about breaking her to the bridle, as if
my Nell
were nothing more than a mare in his stable.”

“
Your
Nell, eh?”

Harry shot a quick, guilty glance at Roddy's face. “A slip of the tongue,” he admitted ruefully. “My desires triumphed over the truth, I'm afraid. But the truth is that she can never be
my
Nell …”

Roddy sighed. “It's bellows to mend with you, eh? I guessed as much.”

“I thought you had. But it doesn't bear speaking of. I'm no skirter-jilter.”

“Damned shame,” Roddy said compassionately.

“Nevertheless, I'll not permit that … that court-card to take her!” Harry said with vehemence.

“Not much you can do about it, I'm afraid.”

“No,” Harry agreed, “
but you
can. Surely she'd prefer
you
to that loose fish.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Roddy said with an ironic bow. “It's flattering to learn how well you think of me.”

Harry laughed shortly. “It's not necessary for me to flatter you for this purpose. I'm not recommending you for the Light Bobs or a cavalry commission. Besides, you
know
Nell likes you.”

“I had hoped, when I married,” Roddy said wistfully, “to find someone who
loves
me a little. Don't you think that someone, somewhere, might—?”

“No, I don't,” Harry mocked. “How can you dream of another girl when you might have Nell?”

“Stupid of me,” Roddy admitted, his lip curled in wry amusement. “Although it
is
possible, you know, that someone might inexplicably prefer another female to wed.”

“No, not if he had any sense,” Harry smiled, indulging in the foolishness a little longer. It lifted his spirits to admit so openly that he was besotted over Nell. For the moment at least, he could reveal the secret he'd repressed so painfully and for so long a time.

They walked along companionably for several minutes, but then Harry grew serious again. “You
must
do this, Roddy. We can't let her ruin her life.”

“I'll try, old boy, I'll try,” Roddy promised, “but I can't guarantee success. It's the lady who must make the final decision.”

It took a great deal of pluck on Roddy's part—and much urging from Harry—to bring Roddy to the doorway of Thorne House, but, a few days later, he arrived at mid-morning and was informed by Beckwith that Miss Belden was at home. He found her in the sitting room, seated at a writing desk and frowning down at a blotted, criss-crossed sheet of paper while nibbling thoughtfully at the top of her pen. She roused herself at his cough, and her face broke into a warm smile. “Roddy! Where have you been hiding these last few days?” she greeted him eagerly. “Do sit down.”

“I am disturbing you, I'm afraid. Am I keeping you from your writing?”

“Oh, bother my writing. I was trying to compose a letter to Nigel's mother. He wants me to invite Lady Imogen to tea so that we may come to terms. But I
know
that, no matter how I phrase the note, she will refuse me. It's nothing but a waste of time. I'm relieved to have an excuse to give it up.” She tossed the pen aside, left the desk and seated herself on a small sofa.

Roddy sat down on the edge of a chair opposite her and studied her closely. “You haven't the look of a happy bride, my dear,” he said sympathetically. “Is it Nigel's mother who causes you to look so wan?”

Nell made a face at him. “Need you be so frank? If you intend to spend the morning telling me I'm not in my best looks, I shall make this a very short interview.”

“Well, even when not in your best looks, you're the prettiest sight in the world,” Roddy grinned.

“That's much better,” Nell acknowledged, grinning back at him. “Although you need not have gone so far as the whole world. The environs of London would have done quite well enough.”

Roddy shook his head. “There is no pleasing you, I'm afraid. This does not augur well for my mission.”

“Mission? You have a mission?” she asked interestedly. “I thought this was purely a social call.”

“Oh, no, my dear, I have a most serious purpose. It has a bearing on the very direction of your life.”

“My
life
?” Nell asked, more amused than impressed. “That is serious indeed.”

Roddy sighed. “I
knew
I'd do this badly. You're laughing already, and I haven't even told you why I've come.”

“Then perhaps you should tell me without all this preamble,” she suggested.

“Very well, if you insist. I've come to ask you to marry me, Nell.”

She gurgled. “I don't know what sort of prank this is, but you
are
doing it badly. You should be down on one knee, you know, making me a long speech; first you must tell me of your high regard for me, and then you must list my many virtues—”

“Dash it, must I?” he asked in mock horror.

“But of course!”

“No. If I did that, you would
surely
laugh, and I mean this very seriously, Nell.”

She took a quick look at his face and her smile vanished. “You can't be serious. You know that I'm betrothed—”

“Yes, I know. But you aren't yet married. It's not too late to change your mind. You've done it before.”

She looked at him in complete confusion. “I don't understand this at all, Roddy. Are you trying to pretend that you
care
for me?”

“It's no pretense. I
do
care for you,” he said earnestly.

“What humbug! You've never shown me the least regard—at least not in
that
way. You must not confuse your feelings, Roddy. I suppose you care for me as a friend—”

“A very
good
friend,” he insisted.

“A good friend, then. But surely you realize that you've no regard for me in any other way. What caused you to make such an impulsive gesture?”

“Really, Nell, it was not a mere gesture. You must stop suspecting that this is some sort of a hum. I'm completely in earnest. I most urgently desire that you accept my offer of marriage.”

“But
why
?”

“Why? What a strange question. Why does
any
man ask a woman to wed him?”

“Because he
loves
her, you idiot,” she chided. “You are not going to pretend that you love me, are you?”

“Well, you're not going to pretend that you love that Lewis fellow, yet you agreed to marry
him,
” he countered.

She paled. “That is entirely different,” she said stiffly.

He leaned forward and grasped both her hands in his. “You mustn't go ahead with it, Nell. He's … not worthy of you. You can't make me believe that you'd not be happier with me!”

Nell's eyes misted over, and she lowered her head. “It is most kind of you, Roddy, to show this concern for me. I am … very touched. But I would
not
be happier with you. I'd be miserable, for I would know that I had kept you from finding real happiness—the happiness you truly deserve. One day soon, you will
love
someone … someone not at all like a good friend …” Her voice trailed off in a small sniffle.

He released one of her hands and reached for a handkerchief, which he handed to her unceremoniously. She sniffed into it briefly and then looked up with a smile. “There. I've quite recovered. May we return to being good friends now?”

“Confound it, Nell, how can I be a friend to you if I meekly accept your refusal and permit you to proceed with your plans to marry a man who is certain to make you miserable?”

She withdrew her hand from his grasp and said with quiet dignity, “You have no choice, Roddy. I am quite capable of making decisions in regard to my own future.”

“But … what if this decision is a dreadful mistake—?”

She jumped up angrily. “I cannot permit you to say such things to me. Nigel is my affianced husband, and I cannot allow you to disparage him to me. Nor can I entertain any discussion of marriage behind his back.”

“Very well, my dear,” he sighed dejectedly, “you've no need to comb my hair. I didn't really expect this scheme to succeeed, anyway.”

They sat in silence for a moment until Nell, moved by Roddy's worried frown, patted his hand comfortingly. “You needn't look so blue-deviled. I
do
appreciate your solicitude. But you see, I am quite prepared to accept the shortcomings as well as the benefits of married life. I shall brush through well enough, never fear.”

“Perhaps,” Roddy said dubiously, “but I very much doubt that your assurances will be at all convincing to—” He cut himself short and looked away awkwardly.

“To whom?” Nell asked, arrested.

“No one,” Roddy said quickly, jumping to his feet. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying. Please excuse me, Nell, for leaving so abruptly. It isn't every day that a man's offer of marriage is rejected. I need a little time alone, to recover—”

Nell was not fooled by his prattle. “Did Harry send you?” she demanded.

Roddy faced her with a look of injured innocence. “
Harry
? How can you suggest such a—”

“
Roddy!
” Nell interrupted threateningly.

He met her eye obstinately for a brief moment, but the firm challenge in her expression caused his defenses to crumble. He sank back into his chair and shrugged helplessly. “He didn't
send
me, Nell. I
wanted
to come. Truly.”

“But he knows of this?”

“We … discussed the matter, you might say.”

“I might say a great deal more, I suspect,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “I believe I might say that this was
his
idea, was it not?”