Tonight, however, had reminded her of what her life could have been, and she realized that her conviction might cause her as much pain as the daily reminder she had to contend with.
She did everything in her power to turn her mother’s mind from the meeting with Lord Devlin, yet now she herself could think of nothing but the enigmatic man bent on furthering an acquaintance with her. While such reflections made her seriously regret a solitary future, she determined that God would help her effectively convince others that she was content in His plan for her, and she was striving for that contentment daily.
Despite her protests to the contrary, Nicole had heard of the renowned Lord Devlin. Since she spent much of her time with the dowagers, what she had heard had not been favorable. A major complaint was that he took an active interest in his estates rather than giving them into the hands of bailiffs. And the soldiers! Well, they could not even speak of his association with those of such low descent.
These were comments Nicole had overheard, but none were characteristics that made her think less of him. Indeed, she had secretly desired to know more of the man who flouted the conventions of Society and followed his convictions.
She had long ago built a wall around her own heart. It was not enough to stop her innermost attachments, but for protection from just such a hurt as she had set herself up for tonight. She thought once again of the pleasure she’d had being treated as a desirable woman. It proved that her self-constructed armor was still impervious to an irresistible gentleman on a moonlit terrace!
She allowed him that small entrance into her inner sanctum and knew he might be the man with the power to penetrate it completely. Her only other option was to create a more indomitable edifice around her heart that would affect all who would seek to gain her love, not just prospective suitors. Her nature balked at that thought. She had been given a heart for God, and she intended to follow the dictates of that heart.
Upon arrival at the townhouse, Nicole bid the servants good-night and climbed the stairs. Toby, her personal servant, accompanied Nicole to her bedchamber. He never retired until he was assured of her safety. “Thank you, Toby.” He was a gentle giant and she loved him dearly. She put her hand on his arm to stay him a moment, but embarrassment made her keep her face averted.
“Toby, I want to thank you for the time alone on the terrace this evening. I know you were close by. Maybe close enough to hear parts of my conversation with Lord Devlin?” She did not wait for his answer. “I know it was you disturbing the ducks!” She had startled him, but she only laughed. “Do not worry. I truly appreciate your restraint when I am sure you felt the need to interrupt. It was quite pleasant having a normal, relaxed conversation for a change. I believe the gentleman even flirted a little, do you not think so?”
Toby’s brow furrowed as he said, “I couldn’t ‘ear most of what you said, Lady Nick, and you know I don’t go in for no eavesdropping. I know you can take care of yourself most of the time.” They reached her door, and he waited to be sure she was safely inside before he left her. She could hear Chelsea’s even breathing; the girl was asleep on the divan.
At a touch Chelsea came awake with a start. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. “Oh, Nicky, what time is it? I vowed I would be quite grown up tonight and not fall asleep. Confound it! Here I have done that very thing.”
Nicole hugged her, laughing. “There were several ladies snoring softly at the ball. You were not alone, pet!”
“Nicky, never say you sat with the dowagers again all evening,” cried her sister. “I prayed and prayed God would give you a good time for a change. Papa always told me if it was for the good of someone other than me, my prayers would always be specially answered.”
Nicole put on her most impish smile and chuckled at her sister. “You are a little minx! Your prayers were not only answered, they must have given even the angels enjoyment! Where should I begin? Lady Swathmore’s turban kept tilting side to side until footmen were following behind her at each step to make sure she did not topple over.
“Old General Thomas, God bless him, was seated next to Mrs. Ballingham-Smythe at dinner. He is as old as the hills and deaf to boot. Every attempt on her part to talk to him only brought the reply telling her to speak up. After several go-rounds she finally threw up her hands in despair and knocked a platter of turbot right out of the footman’s hand.”
“I do not believe one word, Nicky. You are making the whole thing up to please me.”
“Upon my honor, sweetheart, it all happened as I said. Why, even the haughty Miss Letitia Preston was upset because she had to open the ball with the young Duke of Crawford. He was the highest ranking title there, you see, and she complained that her pink dress and his red hair would clash!”
“Nick, you know that was not truly the enjoyment I prayed for. I prayed for you to enjoy yourself with a special companion or a new friend.”
“Very well, minx—if you must know, I did meet a nice gentleman tonight. I enjoyed the evening much more than usual. Now do not go into whoops, I am only telling you this to show you that Papa was right and God does listen to your concern for others.”
“Oh, Nicky, tell me all about it!”
“He was a mere mortal and I met him when I went out on the terrace to get a breath of fresh air. We had a very nice conversation, and since Toby was not with me, Lord Devlin was not aware of my accident. We had a nice pleasant conversation about the Swathmores’ gardens.”
“You call that the answer to my prayers?” Chelsea groaned in exasperation.
Nicole sat up straight and knew she had to be honest with her worrisome sister. “Darling, when all you desire is a little normalcy and it comes along in such a nice and unexpected fashion, believe me, it is a very special answer.”
She could not help thinking back on the evening as she continued. “Lord Devlin was exceptionally kind and made me laugh. You know, more often than not I find myself laughing at London gentlemen, not with them.”
Nicole came out of her reverie and smiled dearly at Chelsea. “That is all there was to it, minx. Now since I told Stella not to wait up for me, would you like to help me change for bed?”
Nicole discovered she was glad to have the company. She suddenly feared the quiet of the night and the subject her thoughts might continue to dwell upon. She could only pray silently for God’s strength.
While Nicole was regretting her decision to have Chelsea as her abigail, Lord Devlin was sitting alone in his coach, his own thoughts far from restive. He was going to his grandmother’s house only two miles beyond Swathmore Hall.
His grandmother was the only relative he felt any fondness for. Indeed, she was the only person he truly loved, as much as he could understand love. Knowing he would be so near tonight, he had informed her through the post that he wished to stay the night with her after the Swathmore fete.
She would want to discuss the ball, but he was not sure he was prepared to talk to anyone about the sudden departure of his usual boredom after meeting Lady Nicole Beaumont. She was a very special woman, of that he was certain.
Discounting his impressions of her physical charms, it was her wit and intelligence, along with her innocence and experience, that made him think of her as more than a beauty. His own mind told him repeatedly that innocence and experience in one package seemed a conundrum, but he felt it nonetheless. Could he believe that such a desirable woman was truly disinterested in marriage or the social whirl?
But as his coach pulled up to the dower’s house, his thoughts changed direction and settled on the woman who had been mother and father to him for most of his life. His grandmother seemed to get a little frailer