He thought he’d braced himself for the worst, but he wasn’t prepared for that.
At least it didn’t sound like Theo intended to hold a grudge. He was obviously disappointed in Nicholas, and his chest ached from the knowledge that he had once again let down his brother, but as long as there was hope for them to continue being close in the future, then he would be all right.
But his mother.
He doubted even she knew what her intentions were when she left London. Most likely she’d been panicking. She had to know that turning up here with very little notice would only create more gossip.
Much as she liked to think otherwise, the dowager viscountess was a creature of emotion, not one of logic.
At least they had mitigated the damage at Nunhaven as much as possible. He and Sophie had gone back to socializing with the others after that one afternoon of solitude and had acted as though nothing was amiss.
As far as he could tell, any harm to either his name or Sophie’s had been relatively contained. He was sure rumors were running rampant, but no one could verify them because despite Lady Somerset’s best efforts to create drama,Lady Wembley was staunch in her support, as was Lady Carlisle.
Baron Sylvestor’s good-natured reaction no doubt helped too.
Nicholas feared that if his mother turned up here and lost her temper, as she was prone to do, then all of their efforts to mitigate the damage might be for nothing.
He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled roughly.
Damn, he wished he were at home where he could work out this strange energy by sparring with his brother.
Instead, he headed out to the stables—keeping to the servants’ corridors as much as possible to avoid other guests—and saddled Pepper. He chose to prepare the horse for riding himself rather than getting a stablehand to do it because the familiar, repetitive motions soothed something inside of him.
He put a foot in the stirrup, climbed smoothly astride, and guided Pepper around the gardens and into the fields. He went to the same place where he’d raced Sophie and walked far enough along that he knew there was no risk of running into the fallen tree.
Then, he urged the horse faster and faster, the wind whipping his hair, the tips of it stinging his face as they slapped his skin.
The faster they flew over the ground, the more of his troubles he left behind. Nothing could catch him when he was determined to outpace it—not even reality.
Eventually, he slowed. Pepper was breathing heavily, and he stroked his neck and cooed to him about what a good boy he’d been.
His own breath was coming more evenly, and his heart, while racing, was no longer so twisted up.
Perhaps it was best that his mother had flown into a tizzy when she had found out what happened and departed immediately for Nunhaven. Surely the days it took her to make thejourney would soften her anger and wear down the ragged edges of her fear.
She would be less raw by the time she arrived. Maybe she would even be amenable to discussing the matter without screaming or crying.
One could hope.
He patted Pepper’s romp, turned him around, and trotted back the way they’d come. He looped around another field, giving the horse’s legs plenty of time to cool down.
They were both as calm as could be expected by the time they reached the stable. He dismounted and waved off the stablehands who offered to help. He removed the tack piece by piece and brushed down Pepper’s gleaming brown coat.
Once the horse was ready to return to his stall, he ensured the stablehands had put down food for him and discreetly slipped him another peppermint stick. He didn’t have too many left, but he couldn’t bring himself not to hand over the treat.
He snuck back to his room, avoiding anyone other than maids and footmen, and removed his shirt as soon as he entered his private space. It wasn’t as warm as it had been on Tuesday, when Sylvestor had taken Sophie to the pond, but it was hot enough to be uncomfortable, especially when he’d already worked up a sweat on horseback.
He opened the window, dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief, and penned a quick note to Sophie, asking her to meet him in the library at midnight.
With how much attention he had been subjected to every time he ventured into the more public parts of the manor, he was certain there was no way they could speak anywhere else without someone trying to listen in.
She needed to know that his mother was coming, and they had to figure out together what they would do about it.
He slipped a housemaid a coin to see that the message got to Sophie and then flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes.
Somehow, despite everything that was going on, he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke, his stomach protested the fact he’d missed dinner. Fortunately, a tray of food had been delivered while he was asleep, and he made short work of the meal that had been left for him.
