Except that he had seen red, dark red, when George Fowler put his hand to Regina’s elbow. Fowler was young, he was handsome, and damn Malory for saying he had been after Regina last season!
“What the devil are you talking about, Nick? End of what?”
“This farce of an engagement. You didn’t really think I would marry the girl just because I was browbeaten into agreeing to it?”
Percy whistled softly. “So that’s what you were doing, sniffing round Mrs. H. I knew she wasn’t your type.” Nicholas shook his head. “But I thought you were trying to make your lady jealous.”
“Furious, enough to jilt me. It’s not the first time I’ve chased after another skirt with her there watching. I even gave my full attention to Selena, as disgusted as I am with her. But Regina has not spoken up about it once.”
“Maybe the girl loves you,” Percy said simply.
“I don’t want her love, I want her hate,” Nicholas growled. Now, he told himself, not after he was used to her love, had come to depend on it and returned it. He couldn’t bear her hate then.
“Well, you’re in a fine pickle. What if she doesn’t break off with you? Will you jilt her?”
Nicholas looked skyward. “I gave my word I’d marry her.”
“Then you might end up doing just that.”
“I know.”
“Would it be so bad?”
He was afraid it would be heaven, but he wasn’t going to say that to Percy. His carriage pulled up to the curb then and he asked, “Do me a favor, Percy? Go back in there and give my future in-law a message for me. Tell him he had better have a talk with his niece about who she lets take her home.” He chuckled. “If he thinks it matters to me, he might redouble his own efforts to get her to jilt me. If nothing else, the message will irritate him. That makes me happy.” And he did look better.
“Thanks much, old man. He’s liable to takemyhead off, getting a message like that,” Percy said.
“Depend upon it.” Nicholas smiled. “But you’ll do it for me anyway, won’t you? That’s a good fellow.”
Nicholas laughed at the expression on Percy’s face, and waved as his carriage moved down the driveway.
It took only a moment for his good humor to flee. Tonight was proof that he couldn’t take much more of Regina’s presence. Her touch alone had brought him to his knees. Damnation! He had tried staying away from her as much as possible, but while that was more comfortable, it didn’t change his predicament. They were still, in fact, engaged.
“End of the road, mate,” broke into his reverie.
Mate?Fromhisstaid driver?
Nicholas glanced out the window and saw, not his house, but trees close at hand. Nothing but dismal black lay beyond. How had he been so preoccupied as not to know he was being taken outside London to the countryside? Or was he in one of London’s huge parks? If so, it might as well be the bloody countryside for all the traffic that might pass at night.
What the devil had Malory done, hired a thug to deal with him so Anthony could swear to Regina that he had not touched Nicholas? He could just see her uncle laughing about it with his friends.
Nicholas smiled grimly. This was one way to let off steam. Why hadn’t he thought of it himself?
Chapter 16
EARLIER in the evening, just after Nicholas and Regina arrived at Mrs. Hargreaves’ in the West End, a short, stocky fellow named Timothy Pye hailed a passing hack and gave the driver the address of a tavern near the waterfront.
Timothy did odd jobs, from an honest day’s work on the docks to slitting a man’s throat. He admitted to a partiality for easy jobs, and this one was about as easy as they got. His friend Neddy was working with him. All they had to do was follow this nabob wherever he went and every so often report the lord’s whereabouts to their employer.
It was Timothy’s turn to report, and it didn’t take long to reach the better-class tavern where the bloke was staying. Upstairs, he pounded on the door. It took only a moment to open.
Two men were in the room. One was a tall, thin fellow with a huge, bushy red beard. The other was a young man of medium height, a boy really, pretty in a girlish sort of way, with black hair and darkest blue eyes. Timothy had seen the younger fellow only once before in the half-dozen times he had reported to the older man. Their names had never been given, nor did Timothy care to know who they were. He simply did as he was paid to do, no questions asked.
“’E’s settled in fer the evenin’, so it ’pears,” Timothy began, speaking to the red-bearded one. “Some party o’er the West End. Lots o’ fancy hacks linin’ the street both sides.”
“Alone?”
Timothy grinned here. “Brought the fancy piece wi’ ’im in his carriage, same as before. Took her inside. I saw ’em.”
