She wandered the room, picking up books and discarding them while thinking of Charles. He had suggested a carriage ride in Hyde Park, but so far, the dismal weather prevented it. She wished she didn’t feel so absurdly disappointed. There was the Brocklehurst’s soiree this evening, which Charles would attend. She hadn’t seen him since the day he left Dountry Park. That Sunday, the rain kept them indoors, ruining their last day together. With the diva’s performance after dinner, it had been impossible for more than a snatched conversation alone. Their parting had been formal with the whole family present to wave goodbye.
A maddening thought slipped uninvited into her head. Had Charles already encountered Drusilla in London? Nellie wished her cousin’s news hadn’t rattled her so much. She shrugged.How vulnerable one was to be marrying a man who didn’t love you.
Despite her fears, it would have been pleasant to be out in a carriage with Charles this afternoon. The Brocklehurst’s reception rooms this evening would be crowded and make conversation impossible. She wandered over to examine her pale blue muslin with white lace decorating the puffed sleeves and neckline, chosen for this evening, and the matching blue silk slippers Lilly had placed in readiness. It was decidedly missish, more for a girl of eighteen than a woman of twenty-two. Nellie was determined that once married, she would wear more dramatic silk gowns in rich colors, deep violet, gold, and crimson.
It wasn’t like her to mope. She owed Aunt Bea a letter. Nellie sat at her desk with a sheet of bond. Picking up her quill, she dipped it in the inkwell and addressed the letter. She paused when no words came to her. Her mind filled with thoughts of Charles. His lean, handsome face. She wished she didn’t find him quite so attractive. Sighing, she replaced the pen in the holder and then moaned in dismay at the smudge of ink on her finger.
The clip-clop of horses drew her to the window again. A smart, dark blue curricle had pulled up outside. She couldn’t make out the livery of the groom in his oilskin coat and dripping hat, who stood at the horses’ heads. Their footman rushed out with an umbrella and shielded its occupant from view as their visitor was ushered into the house. Her father was at his club. Mama had mentioned an afternoon caller, but Nellie hadn’t paid much attention to who left their cards. They would be sent away, for Mama complained of a headache. She had drunk an infusion of feverfew and was resting.
As Nellie scrubbed at the stubborn ink stain with a piece of pumice, their butler knocked on the door.
“Lady Cornelia, the Duke of Shewsbury is here to see you.”
Nellie’s wet hand went to her hair as excitement and consternation filled her. “Is my mother still resting, Hinkley?”
“I believe she is, Lady Cornelia.”
“Please ask the duke to wait.”
As the door closed, Nellie whirled around. She wore a dreadful house gown of faded lemon. And Lilly had gone down to the kitchen to heat the iron, to remove creases from Nellie’s evening gown. She whipped open the wardrobe and pulled out the first dress that caught her eye, Pomona-green cambric, which wasn’t too crushed. Struggling out of her morning gown, she drew on the green, then attempted to do up the hook and eye at her nape. One would need to be a contortionist like the one she once saw at Drury Lane to fasten it. With a moan of disgust, she gave up and rushed to the mirror. Her upswept hairstyle had been slightly disarranged in the act of dressing. She could never manage her thick hair well. Tucking the untidy strands behind her ears, she left her room and rushed to the stairs.
When she entered the parlor, Charles turned from the fireplace, his greatcoat swirling around his polished black boots. She’d not forgotten how tall and imposing he was, but still, his elegance robbed her of breath. It only served to make her feel untidier. She resisted the impulse to hide the stain on her finger and hurried forward. “Charles, I didn’t expect you to call. The weather is so inclement….”
He took her ink-stained hand, his eyes amused as he raised it to his lips. “The curricle hood is up, and I think the sun is at least attempting to shine. We shan’t let a little weather keep us from our outing, shall we?”
“I am afraid I’m not really dressed…”
“You require a warm pelisse. But first, allow me.” His hands on her shoulders turned her slightly, and his fingers, cool and sure on her skin, did up the hook.
“Oh! Yes. Thank you.”
His citrus scent enveloped her, and she had to fight the urge to lean back against him. Her embarrassment at her appearance safely prevented her from succumbing. She waited a few seconds too long in breathless anticipation for him to slide his hands down her arms and turn her to him. To kiss her and declare his love for her.
But, of course, he didn’t. He was merely neatening his untidy betrothed, who was unable to dress herself. Such a grand duchess she would make!
Her cheeks grew hot. “If you’ll wait a moment.”
“Take your time, Nellie, the park will still be there.”
She took a deep breath to slow her racing pulse and went to get her pelisse, bonnet, and kid gloves to cover the cursed stain. Must he always be so…immaculate and composed?
They left the house. The rain eased as he escorted her into the curricle, taking care to make her comfortable with a rug over her knees. “Let them go, Reilly,” he called to the groom. “You may await me in the stables.”
“Oh, no! Please go to the servants’ entrance, Reilly,” Nellie called. “Tell Cook I said to give you a cup of tea and a slice of her pound cake.”
“Are you encouraging my servants to adopt bad habits?” Charles asked as he expertly feathered a turn.
She stared at him, unsure if he was serious. “He looked thoroughly miserable. I don’t believe it will spoil him too much to enjoy a cup of tea in comfort on such a day.”
He arched a dark eyebrow. “Indeed. He can sit by the fire and warm his toes. It is spring, not the depths of winter. My grooms are used to all weather. They live in the stables. A little cold and wet toughens them up.”
“The stables? Oh, you are too harsh!” Nellie cried. The corner of his mouth twitched. “You are teasing me,” she said with a half-laugh.
“It’s entirely possible.” Charles glanced at her briefly before drawing in the reins as they approached a laden wagon trundling heavily along the road. “Actually, the stable staff live in very comfortable accommodationsabovethe stables. I’m sorry. It was irresistible, and I enjoy seeing you flare-up.”
“You do? That is horrid of you.” Nellie doubted he was sorry, but she couldn’t banish the laughter in her voice. “Enjoy it, for it will not happen again. How does the saying go? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.”
He chuckled. “That sounds like a dare.”
