Nicholas had the nightmare during the day for the first time. He awakened with his heart leaping and his chemise drenched in sweat. He sat up abruptly, smelling the burning flesh more vehemently than usual, and realized it came from his aunt’s kitchens.
By the light, it was late afternoon, and he was due to meet Haynesdale.
And his nose told him that someone had been in his chamber. He smelled a feminine scent that made the hair prickle on the back of his neck.
But nothing was awry. Perhaps a maid, nothing more troubling than that. The floorboard that hid his treasures was in place and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Jenkins had obviously been in the room, for Nicholas’ boots were polished and standing at attention, his jacket brushed and awaiting him. There was a pitcher of water that was still warm, so he washed and dressed, meeting the valet at the door to his chamber.
“You should have called, sir,” the older man chided, then fussed over Nicholas’ attire.
“I became accustomed to being without a valet on the Continent, Jenkins. I apologize for any slight.”
“No slight at all, sir, none at all, but your circumstances may change in a most welcome fashion.”
“Might they?” Nicholas wondered whether the gossip belowstairs was about his gambling or his dueling.
“Indeed, sir. The Earl of Queenston visited while you were unavailable and left a message enquiring as to whether you would care to rent a manor called Greenhaven.” The valet’s expression was expectant.
“Did he?”
“He left a note, sir, presumably with the details.”
“Thank you, Jenkins. I shall have to read it.”
Nicholas no sooner reached the stairs than his sister assaulted him, demanding every detail of Mr. Melbourne’s valiant efforts that morning. She followed him down the stairs, persistent as she could be, and Aunt Fanny hailed him from the parlor, in search of tidings about that morning’s adventures. It was close to an hour before he could extricate himself—and then only because he insisted the duke waited upon him. Nicholas congratulated himself upon confessing very little during that time and strode for White’s. It was a reasonable distance, but he was in the mood for a bracing walk. It was a fine day to be alive, to be sure.
Haynesdale awaited him in a private chamber and was studying a map of Paris. He wore a vest Nicholas had not seen before, a silk jacquard of red and black that was most striking, and there was a newfound sense of purpose in his manner.
“Are you planning a trip?” Nicholas asked, accepting a glass of wine and settling into a chair.
“I leave tonight for Dover and will sail on the first tide,” his friend said, then folded up the map so decisively that Nicholas understood the subject was closed. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his leg with a wince. “Tell me of your own plan.”
“Where is it writ that I have a plan?”
“You always have a plan, Emerson. It is one of the traits I admire most in you. Tell me of this one.”
“It is little more than a notion at this point.”
“I do not believe it. You were always excellent with horses and you have been putting Sterling to stud since the end of the war.” Haynesdale shook a finger. “You have already embarked upon this notion.”
Nicholas smiled. “But I could not continue for lack of funds. I thank you for the suggestion of how they might be found.”
“Of course, you succeeded. Do you feel a lust to return to the tables and better yourself yet more?”
Nicholas shook his head. “Of course, there is a temptation, but I walked away and will not return again. I know too well the siren’s song to which my father succumbed, and its potential price.”
“Indeed.” Haynesdale’s approval was clear. “And so?”
“I mean to rent an appropriate property, with suitable barns and fields, ideally with a small house in reasonable condition. What do you know of Greenhaven?”
“The property you declined to win last night?” Haynesdale waited for Nicholas’ nod. “Only that you would be the tenant of the Earl of Queenston and I would wish no man in that situation. The earl is a notorious womanizer and often suspected of cheating. I doubt the rent would be fair, he would assuredly try to tempt you to gamble with him that he might regain his losses of last night, and if ever you did wed, you could not be assured that your wife and daughters would be untouched.” He shook his head. “Without so much as a glimpse of the property, I find little to recommend it.”
“Nor do I with that summary.”
Haynesdale sipped his wine. “You will not take Southpoint, but will you rent it?”
Nicholas looked up with surprise. “I doubt I could afford it.”
