Senseless Sensibilities Page 6

  Stop it, Evangeline! Stop thinking about him like that!

  Was it his imagination, or were Evangeline’s cheeks changing color? He thought she looked charming with a bit of pink on her face. “They were respectable enough, though not by your standards.”

  “My standards? How terrible of you!” Evangeline shouted at him. “Are you trying to insult me?”

  “I would never try to insult you, my lady. I am only saying my family cannot hope to measure up to yours. Not by any stretch of the imagination,” Jonathan went on. “You’re an earl’s daughter and all that.”

  “I think you are an awful, thoughtless cur.”

  “And I think you are a beautiful, stubborn minx.”

  Evangeline flapped her arms at her sides, like a hen defending her eggs. In the presence of Jonathan, she was prone to unladylike outbursts. Just because he wasn’t a gentleman, that was no excuse for her to stop acting like a lady. She knew she was acting foolish, but she couldn’t stop herself. “How dare you speak to me like that!”

  “How dare I not?” Jonathan asked, grinning at her as he slipped through the doorway. “You are quite adorable when you’re angry.”

  The grin stayed on his face several minutes after he was gone. Evangeline could be very nasty, but that didn’t stop him from liking her. He knew she was above his reach, but there was nothing wrong with a little flirtation.

  “You shouldn’t be flirting with her at all, you stupid fool,” Jonathan whispered to himself, clutching the book of poetry in his hand until his knuckles turned red.

  For the first time in his life, he truly envied Nicholas Grey.

  * * *

  Her fingers flowed across the pianoforte. The song she played was sad enough to bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened man. But there were no tears in the eyes of Anne Fremont, for she had nothing to be sad about.

  Except losing her husband… although, she had to be honest with herself. She was never saddened by the loss of him. At times, he had been quite cruel to her.

  The new Lord Penworth was walking down the hall when he heard the doleful melody, and he stopped to listen. It was played with such ease, he expected to find Evangeline behind the pianoforte. After all, her mother had praised her talents to no end.

  Nicholas opened the door to the music room and stood in the doorway. He was surprised to find the older beauty behind the instrument. He watched her hands drift across the keys, as if caressing them. He was awed by the sight of her.

  Leaning against the doorframe, Nicholas closed his eyes and listened. And he could have listened forever, if not for the fact that his boot squeaked across the marble floor as he shifted.

  Anne lifted her hands, and the music stopped. She turned around at once, her eyes wide with surprise. “Oh! I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady. Are you angry?”

  “No, of course not.” Anne laid her hands on her lap, looking very proper. “You are welcome to listen whenever you’d like. This is your house, after all. You are kind enough to let us stay.”

  “No, I… this is your house as much as it is mine.”

  She shook her head. “It is nice of you to say that, but we both know that isn’t true. My daughter and I are your guests.”

  Nicholas’ lips tightened. He didn’t know what to say to that.

  “When you tire of us, will you let me know? We certainly don’t mind moving to the dower house. Well, I don’t mind moving into the dower house. Evangeline might throw a fit.”

  “No!” Nicholas spoke up, nearly shouting the word. What he liked most about Yorkshire was sitting right in front of him. If Anne left with her daughter, the house would feel empty. But he couldn’t say that to her, could he? “I… I don’t think I will ever tire of your company.”

  “Whether you tire of us or not, we can’t impose on you forever. I think we have already taken advantage of your kindness.”

  Nicholas frowned when he heard how rigid her words were. If there was any way to soften her, he wished he knew. “You have done no such thing, I…” He took a step toward her. “I wish you would play for me again.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And play that song again,” he requested. “I thought it was beautiful.”

  “As you wish.” Anne turned around and repositioned her hands on the pianoforte. When she started to play, Nicholas closed his eyes again. As he listened, the song sent prickles across his skin. When Evangeline played, it didn’t have such a profound affect on him. When the mother played, she became the center of his world.

  He didn’t even realize when the song ended, because he could still hear the music in his head.

  “Nicholas?” Her voice jolted him from his thoughts.

  He slowly raised his eyelids. “Yes, my love?”

  His love? Had he really said that out loud, or were the words in his head?

  Judging from the confused expression on her face, she most definitely heard him.

  “W-What did you say?” She resumed her proper stance: straight-backed, with her hands folded in her lap.

  How was he supposed to explain his way out of this one? Was there some phrase that sounded passably similar to my love? Was there any way to convince her she might have heard him wrong? Nicholas swore he could feel his stomach clawing its way through his chest. “Um…” When he spoke, the lump in his throat gave a bow. “W-What were you going to say, my lady? When you said my name, you seemed to be on the verge of saying something important.”

  “I… don’t remember,” Anne responded softly. “I don’t remember if I had anything to say at all. I think I was trying to get your attention.”

  “Oh.”

  For the next minute or so, neither of them uttered a word. Nicholas was too terrified to explain himself, and Anne was too timid to press him further.

  After a long silence, Nicholas’ lips finally parted. “I…”

  “Yes?”

  “Anne, I think you deserve to know how I feel,” Nicholas went on. He took another step in her direction. “I think I owe it to myself as well.”

  “I don’t think you should say anything that would make things uncomfortable between us.” As soon as she said this, Anne could see the corners of his mouth start to sag.

  “My lady…” As Nicholas crept close to her, his shadow spread over her. “The last thing I want to do is to make you feel uncomfortable. But I need to tell you this. Ever since I’ve been here, my feelings have been eating me from the inside out… like some silent torture I’ve had to bear on my own.”

  She shifted in her chair, but she said nothing.

  “Ever since I came here, I’ve been enchanted by you. I believe you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Ever. In my entire life.”

  Anne’s neck sunk between her shoulders. She had feared as much. She didn’t know why he had even given her a second glance, but she did know one thing for certain. Evangeline was going to kill her.

  “I dream of you at night. I think about you during the day. I hold my breath whenever you pass…” He went on. “I have never encountered anything as pure as your beauty and kindness.”

  This should have been the most exciting moment of her dull, monotonous life. And it might have been, if not for the fact that her daughter had set out to marry the very man who was standing in front of her, pouring his heart. Anne had to be honest with herself. More than once, she wondered what it would be like to lie in the arms of a man like Nicholas Grey. She wondered if his hair—his thick, black, beautiful hair—was as soft as it looked. She wanted to lay her hands on his face and… and kiss him. But she would die before she told him anything like that.

  “Have you nothing to say?” Nicholas asked. “You must think I’m mad for confessing my feelings to a woman who still wears mourning clothes for her departed husband. But I cannot help how I feel.”

  “I am flattered, to be sure. But I…” She squeezed her hands together. “I am too old for you.”

  He k
new she would say something like that. “Ridiculous! How old can you be? You look so young! You cannot be any older than… five and thirty?”

  As she shook her head, Anne fought to keep the smile from her face. “I have a daughter who is nearly eighteen. When I married my husband, I was already a spinster. If that doesn’t bring you any closer to my real age, then…”

  “I don’t care.” When he said this, his voice crackled with despair. “I really don’t care how old you are.”

  “I am three and forty,” she confessed. “And you, Nicholas? How old are you?”

  “I am four and thirty. But what does it matter? If two people are drawn to each other, they shouldn’t be bothered by something as trifling as a few years between them!”

  Standing directly in front of her, Nicholas reached for her hand. She even let him hold it for a few seconds, until she came to her senses. Tugging her hand away, she said, “You presume too much, my lord.”

  His eyebrows formed a V at the bridge of his nose. He looked very pitiful. “You aren’t drawn to me in the least?”

  “I’m not saying that. You assume I should share your opinion about the meaninglessness of one’s age. I think it’s a very important factor in determining whether two people will suit.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You and I, for instance, are at very different stages of our lives. I have already been married, and I have a daughter on the verge of womanhood. I have already lived my life.”

  “Are you saying you are dead?” he teased her. “You look very pretty for a dead woman, Anne. And you’re still sitting upright in your chair.”

  “Nicholas…”

  He winced when she said his name. Her tone made it sound like she was reprimanding a child.

  “You need someone who is able to start a new life with you,” Anne went on. “You need someone who will experience things with you for the first time.”

  “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

  Anne sighed. She admired his persistence, but she wondered how genuine he was. It was difficult for Anne to believe she had actually caught the eye of a handsome, young, charming man like Nicholas. It had never happened to her before. He would be a fine catch for any woman, so why would he want her?

  Maybe he was bored? Lonely widows were notorious for being eager lovers.

  He took her hand again. This time, he kissed it. “No matter what you say, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I have often wondered what it would be like to take you into my arms and--”

  “Stop,” she whispered to him. “Please.”

  “You do not care for me?”

  “I do… that is… Evangeline would…” Anne, who usually took pride in her eloquence, was faltering terribly. Why couldn’t she put two words together? “I am very wrong for you.”

  “If you let me kiss you, I could change your mind.”

  When he leaned closer, Anne leapt from her chair, thereby releasing her hand from his grip. “I think you are very kind, Nicholas, but I don’t think we should carry on like this. I think it would be best if we remained friends, and nothing more.”

  He let out an audible groan.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, hurrying to the door. “I am very sorry.”

  He didn’t believe her.

  “If you were truly sorry…” Nicholas whispered to himself as he watched her go, “you wouldn’t take my heart and discard it as carelessly as you do.”

  Chapter Ten

  Nicholas was blue-deviled. He was so blue-deviled, not even his jolly valet could cheer him up.

  When Jonathan entered his master’s bedchamber, he knew something was amiss. Nicholas’ frown was so prominent, it etched deep lines around his mouth. His eyes were hooded by his drooping brows, and he looked very melancholy indeed.

  Without a word, Jonathan picked up Nicholas’ shoes, recently discarded by the wearer. He sat on the floor and started to polish them.

  “No, don’t,” Nicholas said, his voice a bit gruff. “You don’t have to do that, Jonathan.”

  “Well, I have to do some kind of work,” Jonathan insisted. He wore the shoe on his stump, polishing it with his left hand. “I can’t lounge around in the library all day, reading books. I have to earn my keep.”

  “Yes, but…” Nicholas raked a hand through his already-unkempt hair. “You really don’t have to do that. They’re not even dirty.”

  “Actually…” Jonathan held up the rag he was using, which was covered in flecks of dirt. “They need cleaning more than you realize.”

  “I don’t give a damn about my shoes. I don’t care about them at all!”

  Jonathan raised the shoe and spoke to it. “He doesn’t mean it, Mister Boot. He really doesn’t!”

  Nicholas wasn’t in the mood for laughs. He had one thing on his mind, and one thing only. “If you really want to earn your keep, you could listen to my troubles. That would be worth more to me than anything.”

  “Really?” Jonathan sat back and raised an eyebrow. “But that’s not a valet’s work.”

  “I’m not asking you to do a valet’s work. I’m asking you to be my friend.”

  Jonathan nodded. “Well, I am always your friend. But I work for you, too, so I think I should clean--”

  “Please, put down the shoe. Because you are my friend, I hate to see you slave around all day. Here…” Nicholas lifted a bottle of brandy and poured a glass for Jonathan. “Have a drink with me, will you?”

  With a shrug, Jonathan complied. He took the glass and swallowed it down. Nicholas poured his friend another drink, which disappeared just as quickly.

  As he poured the second drink, Nicholas said, “I don’t know what I can do…”

  “About what?” Jonathan asked, soon after he emptied his glass.

  “I don’t know what to do about Lady Penworth.” If he could have held his breath as he confessed this, he would have. “I’m falling in love with her, but she won’t have me.”

  “Really? Love?” Jonathan raised his glass, and Nicholas filled it again. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never breathed a word about love.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like her. Anne is nothing like the silly London girls. And she’s pure, unlike the women I’ve bedded in the past.” Nicholas stared straight ahead, as if lost in a trance. “She’s beautiful and graceful and virtuous. I dream about her in ways that would make her blush. If I think about them long enough, my thoughts of Anne would redden my cheeks as well.”

  “And she won’t have you?”

  “Says I’m too young.”

  “Really? But she’s not so old, and you’re not exactly wet behind the ears.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought!”

  “Maybe there’s another reason,” Jonathan suggested. As he pondered his friend’s dilemma, he put his glass on the table and pinched his chin. “The lady’s still in mourning. Her husband’s passing wasn’t long ago. Perhaps... if you gave her time…”

  “But she didn’t even love him! I can see it in her eyes! How could she love someone as old and curmudgeonly as my uncle?” Nicholas asked. “Her timidity is the result of years and years of neglect. She hides her emotions because that is what suited her husband. I would stake my life on it!”

  “Regardless of her level of affection for him, he was still her husband, and the father of her child,” Jonathan went on. “I mourned the loss of my hand for nearly a year. And that was just a hand! Imagine losing an entire person…”

  Nicholas shook his head. He wasn’t in the mood for Jonathan’s jokes.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jonathan’s apology was marred by the fact that he was chuckling. “One should not make light of death, no matter the circumstances.”

  Nicholas wasn’t listening to him. His mind was still consumed by thoughts of the unattainable lady. “By God, I wish I could stop thinking about her! I’ve been bewitched by her ever since we arrived. At first, I thought she would be an entertaining challenge. I th
ought I might make her my mistress…” Nicholas confessed. “Now that I know her, I respect her too much. And I’m starting to think the challenge is too steep.”

  “Even for you?” Jonathan asked, still trying to lighten the mood.

  Nicholas groaned, and his mood became bleaker still. Jonathan wanted to yawn, but he fought it off. The valet wasn’t an expert on women or matters of the heart. He had no idea what Nicholas wanted him to say. So he thought he might change the subject.

  “What about Evangeline?” Jonathan asked.

  “What about Evangeline?” Nicholas repeated.

  “Your lady love’s daughter wants to marry you. It’s as plain as day,” Jonathan explained. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her, you see, and… haven’t we already discussed this?”

  “Evangeline is a pretty girl. She’s intelligent and… and interesting.” For the life of him, Nicholas couldn’t think of another way to describe her endearingly unscrupulous behavior. “But she is still a child.”

  “Nevertheless, she is of a marriageable age, and she has set her sights on you. If you pursue the mother, I shudder to think of how the daughter will react. Evangeline is a bit headstrong.”

  “That’s putting it lightly.”

  Soon after he finished his third glass, Jonathan could feel the spirits getting to his head. He didn’t know how much longer this conversation could last. Rising to his feet, he said, “Well, I think I will leave you with your thoughts. I’m afraid I have no solution for your problems.”

  Nicholas sighed. “I don’t think there is a solution. I will continue to lust after the mother, and she will continue to rebuke me. That’s how I foresee it.”

  “Give it time, my friend,” said Jonathan, nearly tripping on his way out the door. “Give it time.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Evangeline’s head was itching under the unsightly straw bonnet, but at least she didn’t have the sun in her eyes. She had ventured quite far from Penworth Park, and her feet were already aching. She would have liked to stop and rest, but she had a goal in mind. Nothing, not even blistered feet, would stop her pursuit of Lord Trevelan.