Page 42 of Snowbound Surrender

To his astonishment, Lady Quamby merely laughed that tinkling laugh of hers again.

And then Nicholas realised it. Realised it even more clearly than he ever had before, making him feel as if he really were only now understanding the true depth to the games women played to ensure men were held thoroughly captive.

This is how his own beloved Arabella would have behaved with Lord Lushington. While she had allowed Nicholas to court her during the day, she had been playing such games of flirtation with Lushington every evening. That was what would have accounted for her having declared marriage to Lushington within one day of ending her betrothal to Nicholas.

“Mr. Morley, where are you going? I do hope I haven’t offended you by being so transparent in my concern?” As Nicholas rose, Lady Quamby turned to the Colonel with a theatrical pout. “Tell Mr. Morley he must stay. Besides, there will be more snow.”

“In which case, Lady Lushington will be unlikely to make it back to Quamby House—perhaps at all,” he said crisply as he walked to the door.

No, he could not bear it a moment longer. Under this roof, it would be torture with Arabella, and it would be torture without her.

Far better for him to nurse his wounds in the privacy of his own home.

“Surely, Mr. Morley,” Lady Quamby called after him, “you’re not the sort of gentleman to simply... give up? Not when it was so perfectly obvious to everyone yesterday that you and dear Lady Lushington … had so much to say to one another? Oh, yes, I apologise if I speak out of turn but the rekindling of everything wonderful that was once between you as a betrothed couple was on full display for us all to witness.”

Nicholas turned slowly, his jaw tight. “I fear you are mistaken, my lady.”

“Am I?” She exchanged a meaningful look with the Colonel, who was stroking his moustache. “Colonel, did you not remark on the…unusual felicity of two souls surely joined as one?”

“Indeed, I did,” the Colonel agreed with relish. “Could have lit the whole house with the sparks flying between them. Eventhough I was sceptical at first due to the business with Lord Pemberton...”

“Ah yes,” Lady Quamby said with apparent innocence, though her eyes were sharp. “That lovely viscount who’s been sending her such expensive gifts. Still, a lady can hardly be blamed for having admirers, can she?”

Nicholas felt something cold settle in his stomach. “Lord Pemberton?”

“Oh, you hadn’t heard?” The Colonel leaned forward. “Been courting her by correspondence since her widowhood. Diamonds and rubies, I’m told. Quite smitten with the lady. In fact...” He paused. “Word is he was planning to visit her this very week, but the weather delayed him.”

“But her heart was won by you, Mr Morley. And now she’s been called away on very important business,” Lady Quamby said with growing excitement. “And if our dear Lady Lushington was unable to make it back due to the snow, then surely a true gentleman—a hero, even—would brave the elements to ensure her safety?”

“I don’t know where she’s gone,” Nicholas said stiffly.

“Why, that is at the heart of it, isn’t it?” remarked the Colonel in dolorous tones. “If she’s gone to find Pemberton, then you’d want nothing to do with her. But if she has other business, you’d want to know that too, would you not?”

“We can employ spies!” Lady Quamby clapped her hands together. “A few discreet inquiries... Colonel, you have connections everywhere, do you not?”

“Indeed, I do, my dear lady. Could have the information within the day.”

“And we shall be your bodyguards!” Lady Quamby continued with growing enthusiasm. “For there is clearly something afoot, and you simply cannot let Lady Lushington slip from your grasp. Even if...” She paused delicately. “Even if she has gone tosee Lord Pemberton, honor demands that you have it out with them both, does it not? I mean, after yesterday, it would, would it not?” she added meaningfully.”

“She’s not worth it,” Nicholas said, but even he could hear the lack of conviction in his voice.

“Not worth it?” the Colonel snorted. “My boy, a woman like that is worth fighting dragons for. And if she’s chosen another man, well, at least you’ll know where you stand instead of torturing yourself with questions.”

“Exactly!” Lady Quamby leaned forward earnestly. “Mr. Morley, surely you can see that this uncertainty, this confusion, is absolute agony? You’ll never have peace until you know the truth—whatever that truth might be. And if she truly has chosen wealth over love...” She shrugged elegantly. “Well, then you can close that chapter of your life with dignity intact.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but there is someone here to see you. Lord Lushington.” The little parlour maid bobbed a curtsey, and at Antoinette’s nod of the head, she showed in a tall, black-haired gentleman.

Nicholas regarded him through a red haze that just his name was enough to conjure.

Lord Lushington was handsome in a rather theatrical way, with sharp cheekbones and an elegantly waxed moustache. His coat was well cut but just a touch too nipped-in at the waist to avoid appearing the dandy. His waistcoat was a shade too bright, his watch chain a fraction too thick and heavy.

Nicholas observed him warily, for there was something unsettling in his dark, assessing gaze.

“Lady Quamby, your reputation for beauty precedes you, though I confess the reality far surpasses even the most flattering reports.” Lushington bowed with a flourish that somehow managed to be both elegant and slightly mocking.

Lady Quamby dimpled prettily, clearly enjoying the attention. “Why, Lord Lushington, you’re just in time for tea! Do take a seat.” Their hostess picked up the teapot, making a great ceremony of the business of pouring into the remaining teacup.

Nicholas noticed that her flirtatious manner was subtly different from that she had employed with the Colonel. The new Lord Lushington was a much younger and handsomer man, and she was clearly aware of it.