Carrie’s gaze flew to his, her initial look of horror turning to appalled amusement.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. Lady Penelope was incorrigible. “I apologize for being such a poor host. But I have had a lot to cope with recently.”
“Well, you had Simon, of course,” she admitted with remarkable indifference. “And you dealt with him smartly. I expect when next I visit, things will be different.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” Nicholas averted his gaze from the laughter in Carrie’s eyes. “We’ll have a card party. I’ll invite Major Dunleavy and his wife and the Remingtons.”
Lady Penelope nodded, appearing mollified. “I shall retire.”
After Nicholas pulled out her chair, she stood and arranged her shawl over her arms. Gathering up her handkerchief and seizing her cane, she swept regally from the room.
Miss Scotsdale rose, too. She looked pointedly at Bella and Jeremy.
“We’ll ride tomorrow,” Nicholas announced as they dragged their feet toward the door. He was rewarded with a crow of joy from Jeremy.
They were bustled out of the room, and he and Carrie were left alone.
“Well, it appears to be only you and I this evening,” Nicholas said, coming to draw out her chair. “Shall we adjourn to the drawing room? A small fire has been lit there. A game of chess, perhaps?”
“No, thank you, I shall make an appallingly easy conquest this evening.” She put her hand on his proffered arm, and they left the dining room.
“Coffee?” he asked her when she was seated on the sofa.
Carrie shook her head. “A glass of wine, thank you.”
Surprised, because she had drunk wine at dinner, he went to the drinks tray and picked up the carafe of red wine. He complied with her request because he knew she was unsettled and disliked the idea of returning to London. He was sure that would change soon enough, once she was there.
Nicholas brought her the glass of wine.
Bright moonlight shone in through a break in the curtains.
“It’s a full moon,” she observed, taking it from him.
“Yes, many will travel the roads tonight. An excellent opportunity to hold a party or dine with friends.” He’d declined several such invitations recently.
“The fairies will dance in the garden,” she said, a surprising note of laughter in her voice.
He turned and grinned at her from the drinks tray where he poured himself a glass of port. “Fairies?”
“Yes. Don’t you believe in fairies?” she asked, a smile lifting her lips.
He sat beside her. “Can’t say I’ve given it much thought.”
“Perhaps you are too pragmatic to be a believer.”
He smiled, enjoying having her to himself. “You find me so?”
“Yes, you fear disorder. Fairies would laugh at that.”
“I suspect they would. In Shakespeare’s,A Midsummer’s Night Dream,they behaved disgracefully. Turning poor Nick Bottom’s head into a donkey’s.”
“It was a war of love. Oberon and Titania were jealous because they loved each other so much.”
“They played cruel games on the other lovers.”
“But passion drove them. Do you see? And in the end, they made each other divinely happy.”
“I can’t imagine…” Nicholas lost the thread of the conversation. He glanced at Carrie, who held up her empty glass.
