“You have nothing to blame yourself for—let it go.” When Julian appeared unmoved, Talcott said quietly, “You bested him in the duel this spring and scarred that pretty face of his—and do not forget, you have the means to ruin him…Won’t that be revenge enough?”
Julian suddenly smiled, like a big predator in anticipation of an easy kill. “How kind of you to remind me. For a moment just now, I had forgotten that.” He studied Tynedale. “I suspect that he has learned by this time that I am the holder of all his vowels. He must be rather desperate, wondering when I shall demand payment—and he knows that I shall allow him no extensions.” Julian looked thoughtful. “I had thought that I could take pleasure in watching him twist in the wind before demanding payment, but I find that I have changed my mind. I shall call upon him tomorrow.” He smiled again, not a nice smile. “Come,” he said, “let us forget about Tynedale for the evening. I find myself in need of a drink. Shall we go?”
Ordinarily Nell’s evening would have consisted of an early dinner with Sir Edward and then quiet hours spent reading in the library. During her rare trips to London, she tended to visit bookstores and museums and had never cared much for the giddy round of balls, soirees and such. But since she had reluctantly accepted an invitation to one of the last balls of the Little Season at Lord and Lady Ellingsons’, her evening that night did not follow routine.
The Ellingsons were old friends of her father’s, one of the reasons she had consented to attend—that, and his kindly badgering—and he happily escorted her to the ball.
Once Sir Edward had seen her settled amongst several female friends, and Lord Ellingson had completed his most pressing duties as host, the two men had toddled off to the card room. It was several hours later when Sir Edward finally ambled out to the main room looking for Nell.
It took him a while to find her—she was half-hidden in a quiet corner, deep in conversation with a golden-haired gentleman. Recognizing Lord Tynedale, he frowned. What the devil was that fellow doing here? Then he remembered: Tynedale was related to Lady Ellingson. Lord Ellingson had complained to him often enough of having to entertain the bounder just to keep his wife in charity with him. She doted on him. Most women did.
Eyeing the exquisite form attired in a dark blue formfitting jacket and black knee breeches, his linen starched and glistening white, Sir Edward had to give him credit for his appearance. With thick, curly blond hair and femininely lashed blue eyes, he made a handsome sight. His features were aristocratic, from the chiseled nose to the sculpted jaw, and he possessed a winning smile and a practiced grace. Despite the clear signs of dissipation on his face and a narrow scar across one cheek, considering all his charms, it wasn’t surprising that women tended to be taken in by his manner and even thought the scar rather dashing. On the point of marching to his daughter’s side and routing a man he plainly labeled a loose-fish, Sir Edward recalled this morning’s conversation and hesitated. Nell wouldn’t thank him for acting the outraged father. Besides, he thought to himself, she was quite capable of ringing a peal over Tynedale all on her own.
Out of the corner of her eye Nell had seen her father come out of the card room and she was conscious of a feeling of relief. Tynedale had been annoyingly attentive since he had arrived a short while ago and he hovered over her like a bee around a sweet blossom. She was as susceptible to the notice of a handsome man as the next woman was, but aware that it was her fortune and not herself that aroused his interest, she had been trying to keep him at arm’s length, to no avail. He was either, she decided, very dense, very desperate or impervious to insults.
Meeting Tynedale’s limpid blue eyes she murmured, “Ah, there is my father. I am sure that he is ready to leave—I know I am. I shall be glad to retire and rest.”
“Must you go?” He flashed her a warm look. “I am afraid that the evening will become quite flat without your charming presence to enliven it,” Tynedale said, a winning expression on his handsome face.
Nell smiled at him sweetly. “Really? When there are at least two other heiresses in the offing?”
His eyes hardened. “Why must you think that my only interest in you is your fortune? Hasn’t it occurred to you that amongst all the chattering giddy females here tonight that you, and you alone, are the one who has captured my regard?”
She tapped a painted silk fan to her lips. “Oh, you’re absolutely right! How could I have thought any differently? Silly me. After all, I am only suspected of being half-mad, known to be a cripple and as near to being an ape-leader as possible.” She looked pensive. “Of course, I do have a rather vulgar fortune.” She grinned at his expression and added, “Naturally that must put me high on your list of possible brides.”
Fist clenched at his side, the scar flaming an angry red across his cheek, he muttered, “This isn’t the moment or the setting I would have chosen to approach the subject, but we could do well together, you and I. There is no denying that I could use your fortune…and you could use a husband. I may not have a feather to fly with at present, but your fortune would change all that.” Tynedale leaned forward, urgency in his voice. “You should consider the possibility—it would be a good bargain for you when all is said and done. Remember, I do have an old and valued title.”
“Thank you, no.” Insulted and annoyed, she said bluntly, “Since this conversation is already unseemly I will leave you with this comment: I would much prefer being considered an antidote than married to you.”
She turned her back on him, only to be swung around by his hand on her arm. Bending his face to hers, he growled, “You will come to regret those words.” He hesitated. “You must understand me: I have received unfortunate news and my need is great—I am a desperate man.” His voice took on a threatening note. “And desperate men have been known to take desperate measures. Be warned that I am not to be trifled with.”
“Take your hand off me,” Nell snapped, outraged. Her eyes glittering with indignation, she said, “I will give you a little advice, my lord: I am leaving London on Monday. Who knows when I will next return to the city, but when I do, keep away from me. I do not wish for your company!”
He let go her arm, a nasty smile on his face. “We’ll see about that.” He bowed. “Until we meet again.”
Deigning a reply she swept away, the skirts of her cream-and-gold-spangled gown fluttering behind her.
Sir Edward turned at her approach and his gaze narrowed at the expression on her face. He glanced over to where Tynedale stood.
“Should I be issuing a challenge to that puppy?” he asked as he took her arm.
Nell looked startled. “Oh, good heavens, no! Do not give him another thought.” She grinned impishly. “I promise you I shall not.” She pinched his cheek. “Do not worry, Papa. I will confess that he was brazen enough to suggest a match between us—I think his creditors must be dunning him. Do not let it upset you. I assure you that I gave him a decided set-down, he will not trouble us again.”
Sir Edward was affronted. “Suggested a match, did he? Without a word to me? Insolent bounder! How dare he? I shall have a word with him.”
Nell grabbed his arm. “Papa! No, do not. I beg you. Recall, if you will, that I am not an innocent miss dazzled by my first trip to London. I am quite capable of repulsing the attentions of a contemptible creature such as he is. Please do not let us waste another second of our time on him.”
He gave her a searching glance and, satisfied by what he saw in her face he nodded, and beyond a bit of grumbling about the effrontery of certain fellows said no more on the subject.
As
