just as abruptly, he was gone. One day there was only her
family, her horses, her books and Dragmore, the next there was the golden,
virile Duke. But now he was gone.
She should be relieved.
She should be happy. She was neither of those things; she was deeply
disappointed.
"What is wrong with
you?" she said aloud. "Have you truly gone mad? He harbors only the
worst intentions towards you, he is about to marry another, and you are mourning
his absence!"
Logic did not vanquish
her strange trembling, nor did it lift her spirits.
She slowed the bay to a
walk when they reached the trail running through the woods. A few minutes later
they came upon the racing brook, and Nicole was assaulted with the memory of
how they had ridden here, and how he had kissed her, touched her. She stopped
her mount, slipping off, and knelt by the stream, touching the icy water.
Life was not always
fair. But she had learned that long ago, so why was she feeling so sorely now?
Why had he returned to London so abruptly? Last night he had said he would be
leaving in a few days. Last night—he had left because of last night!
Nicole straightened,
certain that she was responsible, having pushed him too far. But he had started
it by merely coming to Dragmore when he could have made his excuses. And she
was not one to ever back down from a confrontation, and in this instance, she
had eagerly risen to the occasion, relishing the battle.
What did it matter? He
was not for her, and he never would be. The most she could hope for was more of
his kisses, or worse, to sleep in his bed. At the thought Nicole blushed. Sex
was a topic ladies never discussed but she understood the basics of the act,
having been raised on the estate and having seen a stallion put to a mare once.
It had been shocking but exciting. She had never seen a man naked, but she had
felt the Duke's maleness when he had pressed himself against her, and she could
imagine what he looked like. Imagine what it felt like inside her. Growing very
warm, she blindly stroked her horse's neck, knowing she should be ashamed at
the direction her thoughts were taking. But she wasn't ashamed, not at all, and
that was the entire problem.
Of course, she was never
going to sleep with him in such a manner, it was the height of fantasy to
imagine what she was imagining. Nor would she ever have his kisses again, his
dangerous, smoldering kisses. A lump rose up in her throat, a sense of choking
panic.
She pulled herself
together. "It is for the best," she told her stallion, who was
nibbling on a patch of grass. She mounted abruptly, urged him into a canter,
and did not stop again until she had reached the stable at Dragmore. There she
handed her mount to a groom and hurried back to the house, keeping her mind
blessedly and purposefully blank.
As she passed the dining
room her mother called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. Nicole entered,
surprised to see her mother up and at the table, for she usually had tea and
muffins in her room while dressing.
"Good morning,
Mother." Nicole came in, hesitating, instinct making her uneasy.
"Aldric says you've
yet to eat," Jane smiled. She looked a bit tired, as if she had not slept
well. "Sit down and join me, darling." Jane poured her a cup of tea,
handing it to her as Nicole sat.
"I'm not very
hungry today."
"Are you feeling
all right?"
"Yes, I'm
fine."
"I couldn't help
but notice that you did not go out with your father and Chad today."
"I—I was tired from
last night."
Jane nodded and buttered
a warm muffin, handing half to her daughter. "Did you enjoy your ride this
morning?"
Nicole flushed.
"Sort of."
Jane set the muffin
down, not having taken a bite. "Nicole, where did you go?"
Nicole could not hold
her mother's direct gaze. Color flooded her cheeks. "Just around."
"To Chapman
Hall?"
Nicole gasped.
"What—what makes you think that?!"
"We had better
talk," Jane said gently.
"There is nothing
to talk about," Nicole cried, panicked.
"It is
family, her horses, her books and Dragmore, the next there was the golden,
virile Duke. But now he was gone.
She should be relieved.
She should be happy. She was neither of those things; she was deeply
disappointed.
"What is wrong with
you?" she said aloud. "Have you truly gone mad? He harbors only the
worst intentions towards you, he is about to marry another, and you are mourning
his absence!"
Logic did not vanquish
her strange trembling, nor did it lift her spirits.
She slowed the bay to a
walk when they reached the trail running through the woods. A few minutes later
they came upon the racing brook, and Nicole was assaulted with the memory of
how they had ridden here, and how he had kissed her, touched her. She stopped
her mount, slipping off, and knelt by the stream, touching the icy water.
Life was not always
fair. But she had learned that long ago, so why was she feeling so sorely now?
Why had he returned to London so abruptly? Last night he had said he would be
leaving in a few days. Last night—he had left because of last night!
Nicole straightened,
certain that she was responsible, having pushed him too far. But he had started
it by merely coming to Dragmore when he could have made his excuses. And she
was not one to ever back down from a confrontation, and in this instance, she
had eagerly risen to the occasion, relishing the battle.
What did it matter? He
was not for her, and he never would be. The most she could hope for was more of
his kisses, or worse, to sleep in his bed. At the thought Nicole blushed. Sex
was a topic ladies never discussed but she understood the basics of the act,
having been raised on the estate and having seen a stallion put to a mare once.
It had been shocking but exciting. She had never seen a man naked, but she had
felt the Duke's maleness when he had pressed himself against her, and she could
imagine what he looked like. Imagine what it felt like inside her. Growing very
warm, she blindly stroked her horse's neck, knowing she should be ashamed at
the direction her thoughts were taking. But she wasn't ashamed, not at all, and
that was the entire problem.
Of course, she was never
going to sleep with him in such a manner, it was the height of fantasy to
imagine what she was imagining. Nor would she ever have his kisses again, his
dangerous, smoldering kisses. A lump rose up in her throat, a sense of choking
panic.
She pulled herself
together. "It is for the best," she told her stallion, who was
nibbling on a patch of grass. She mounted abruptly, urged him into a canter,
and did not stop again until she had reached the stable at Dragmore. There she
handed her mount to a groom and hurried back to the house, keeping her mind
blessedly and purposefully blank.
As she passed the dining
room her mother called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. Nicole entered,
surprised to see her mother up and at the table, for she usually had tea and
muffins in her room while dressing.
"Good morning,
Mother." Nicole came in, hesitating, instinct making her uneasy.
"Aldric says you've
yet to eat," Jane smiled. She looked a bit tired, as if she had not slept
well. "Sit down and join me, darling." Jane poured her a cup of tea,
handing it to her as Nicole sat.
"I'm not very
hungry today."
"Are you feeling
all right?"
"Yes, I'm
fine."
"I couldn't help
but notice that you did not go out with your father and Chad today."
"I—I was tired from
last night."
Jane nodded and buttered
a warm muffin, handing half to her daughter. "Did you enjoy your ride this
morning?"
Nicole flushed.
"Sort of."
Jane set the muffin
down, not having taken a bite. "Nicole, where did you go?"
Nicole could not hold
her mother's direct gaze. Color flooded her cheeks. "Just around."
"To Chapman
Hall?"
Nicole gasped.
"What—what makes you think that?!"
"We had better
talk," Jane said gently.
"There is nothing
to talk about," Nicole cried, panicked.
"It is
Similar Books
