face the
entire truth, there was the matter of her own response to his advances to
consider—she had capitulated to him with nary a word! Just remembering brought
anger, shame and humiliation. Had he intended to humiliate her by seducing her?
Nicole would not be surprised, now that she knew of his scandalous reputation
as a womanizer. Obviously the man had no morals and no sense of honor at all.
Nicole intended to tell him exactly what she thought of his despicable
behavior.
She dressed and flew
down the stairs, knowing she would see no one other than the staff at this
early hour; her mother liked to sleep in until almost eight—which was still
unfashionably early for a lady to rise. Nicole's stomach was in knots of
anticipation, so she did not pause even for a cup of tea. Instead she raced to
the barn and with one of the grooms, saddled up her big, blood bay stallion.
She set off at a gallop.
The early morning air was crisp and cold, promising fall's sudden demise. She
galloped down the drive, then veered off across the lawns, jumping a stone wall
effortlessly. In the next meadow she scattered the sheep and lambs, laughing in
exhilaration, then took another wall in a soaring display of superb
horsemanship. They flew down a path through the woods, stirring up the gold and
brown leaves underfoot. A mile later Nicole pulled the bay up at the edge of
his lawns, in view of Chapman Hall.
Her heart was pounding
wildly in her breast and her cheeks were flushed from the madcap ride. The
stallion snorted impatiently, still wanting to run. "Later," Nicole
said, stroking his warm neck. Eyes glittering, she urged the animal forward.
It was early, but the
sound of carpenters came from the stables, their hammers ringing loudly. Nicole
headed for the house, slipping off of the bay. She tied him to a post and
trotted up the steps, banging the heavy brass door knocker.
There was no answer.
Nicole knocked several
times, growing perturbed. The Duke might not be in, but surely his staff was
there. Yet instead, the house seemed to be vacant, deserted.
Dismay rose in her
breast. Nicole retrieved her mount's reins and strode determinedly to the barn.
Perhaps he was there, inside the stables, overseeing his men. If not, surely
they would know where he was. He had to be here, didn't he?
Leaving the stallion
outside, she stepped within, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The two men
stopped their sawing and banging, turning to look at her. "I am looking
for the Duke," she said, recognizing the laborers as men from the village
of Lessing. Still, their blatant regard made her uncomfortable. She never came
into contact with workers unless she was riding with her father and Chad. She
was distinctly aware of her male attire and being unchaperoned and unprotected.
"He's not
here," said the older man, squinting at her.
The young man
straightened, leering. "He ain't here, but we are."
Nicole gave him a hard
look that warned him not even to think nasty thoughts. "Where is he? And
why is no one answering the door at the Hall?"
The young one, whose
name she thought was Smith, sauntered forward. "Ain't no one there. That's
why, miss."
"No one
there?" she echoed.
"The Duke an' his
staff has up an' gone," the older man volunteered.
"Now why are you so
interested in His Grace?" Smith grinned knowingly.
Nicole didn't hear.
"Gone? Gone where?"
"Back to
London," the old man said.
"Back to
London," Nicole repeated, barely able to absorb this information.
"But when will he return?"
"He didn't
say."
"But while you're
waitin' for him to return, there's always me," Smith said, moving closer.
"Go to hell!"
Nicole snapped, startling both men. She whirled and ran from the barn, still
trying to comprehend that the Duke was gone. She mounted the bay, nudging him
into a fast trot.
Gone! He was gone!
And there was no
question about it, her heart had sunk right down to her very toes. She was
absolutely deflated.
He had come into her
life so abruptly, and
entire truth, there was the matter of her own response to his advances to
consider—she had capitulated to him with nary a word! Just remembering brought
anger, shame and humiliation. Had he intended to humiliate her by seducing her?
Nicole would not be surprised, now that she knew of his scandalous reputation
as a womanizer. Obviously the man had no morals and no sense of honor at all.
Nicole intended to tell him exactly what she thought of his despicable
behavior.
She dressed and flew
down the stairs, knowing she would see no one other than the staff at this
early hour; her mother liked to sleep in until almost eight—which was still
unfashionably early for a lady to rise. Nicole's stomach was in knots of
anticipation, so she did not pause even for a cup of tea. Instead she raced to
the barn and with one of the grooms, saddled up her big, blood bay stallion.
She set off at a gallop.
The early morning air was crisp and cold, promising fall's sudden demise. She
galloped down the drive, then veered off across the lawns, jumping a stone wall
effortlessly. In the next meadow she scattered the sheep and lambs, laughing in
exhilaration, then took another wall in a soaring display of superb
horsemanship. They flew down a path through the woods, stirring up the gold and
brown leaves underfoot. A mile later Nicole pulled the bay up at the edge of
his lawns, in view of Chapman Hall.
Her heart was pounding
wildly in her breast and her cheeks were flushed from the madcap ride. The
stallion snorted impatiently, still wanting to run. "Later," Nicole
said, stroking his warm neck. Eyes glittering, she urged the animal forward.
It was early, but the
sound of carpenters came from the stables, their hammers ringing loudly. Nicole
headed for the house, slipping off of the bay. She tied him to a post and
trotted up the steps, banging the heavy brass door knocker.
There was no answer.
Nicole knocked several
times, growing perturbed. The Duke might not be in, but surely his staff was
there. Yet instead, the house seemed to be vacant, deserted.
Dismay rose in her
breast. Nicole retrieved her mount's reins and strode determinedly to the barn.
Perhaps he was there, inside the stables, overseeing his men. If not, surely
they would know where he was. He had to be here, didn't he?
Leaving the stallion
outside, she stepped within, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The two men
stopped their sawing and banging, turning to look at her. "I am looking
for the Duke," she said, recognizing the laborers as men from the village
of Lessing. Still, their blatant regard made her uncomfortable. She never came
into contact with workers unless she was riding with her father and Chad. She
was distinctly aware of her male attire and being unchaperoned and unprotected.
"He's not
here," said the older man, squinting at her.
The young man
straightened, leering. "He ain't here, but we are."
Nicole gave him a hard
look that warned him not even to think nasty thoughts. "Where is he? And
why is no one answering the door at the Hall?"
The young one, whose
name she thought was Smith, sauntered forward. "Ain't no one there. That's
why, miss."
"No one
there?" she echoed.
"The Duke an' his
staff has up an' gone," the older man volunteered.
"Now why are you so
interested in His Grace?" Smith grinned knowingly.
Nicole didn't hear.
"Gone? Gone where?"
"Back to
London," the old man said.
"Back to
London," Nicole repeated, barely able to absorb this information.
"But when will he return?"
"He didn't
say."
"But while you're
waitin' for him to return, there's always me," Smith said, moving closer.
"Go to hell!"
Nicole snapped, startling both men. She whirled and ran from the barn, still
trying to comprehend that the Duke was gone. She mounted the bay, nudging him
into a fast trot.
Gone! He was gone!
And there was no
question about it, her heart had sunk right down to her very toes. She was
absolutely deflated.
He had come into her
life so abruptly, and
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