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The Aristocrat's Lady
Mary Moore
An Unexpected EncounterFor a few moments on a moonlit balcony, Nicole Beaumont was just a beautiful woman catching the eye of the handsome Lord Devlin—but she knew the illusion couldn't last. If the enigmatic aristocrat knew her secret, he'd realize that her disability left her unfit for love. So who could blame her for hiding the truth a little longer?Devlin had never met a woman like Nicole. Her unique combination of innocence and wisdom left him utterly intrigued. Yet what was she hiding? For a man who did not trust easily, discovering her secret was devastating. Overcoming their pasts and forging a future would take faith, forgiveness and trust. And second chances could lead to new beginnings. . .




“I admit I had an ulterior motive for wanting to share your terrace,” Devlin said. “You say you will never marry; I should like to know why.”
“I am quite content to live out my days surrounded by family and friends. It provides me independence, as well,” Nicole answered.
It seemed a well-rehearsed answer. Perhaps, like him, she had deeper reasons that she did not wish to share. “But suppose you fell in love with a man who would allow you the freedom you desire?”
“I can just as easily turn the question back on you. Would finding a woman who would not curb your independence change your mind?”
“I have assumed that meeting such a woman is unlikely. However, I cannot say with certainty what would transpire should such a woman exist and should we care for each other.”
“That is where we differ, Devlin.” The sadness in her voice was audible; she seemed tired and quite unguarded with him. “I believe I would remain adamant.”
Instinctively he knew the conversation was closed.

About the Author
MARY MOORE has been an avid student of the Regency era since the 1970s and is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers’ historic fiction community as well as a member of the Faith, Hope and Love and Beau Monde chapters of the RWA. She has been writing historical fiction for over fifteen years. Mary had to put her writing on hold due to some health issues, including a bout with breast cancer. She is now even more excited about her writing as she incorporates her struggles throughout her books, dedicated to encouraging others in the Lord and using her talent to His glory. A native of the Washington, D.C., area, Mary and her husband now live in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of southwest Virginia, with their black Lab, Darcy. When not writing, Mary enjoys time with her husband, watching romantic movies, reading and weekend getaways. Mary would love to hear from you. You can reach her by visiting her website, http://marymooreauthor.vpweb.com.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed the story of Devlin and Nicole. They have become personal friends of mine, and characters who I hope have spoken to you and inspired you.
As you may have surmised, one of my favorite passages in Scripture is Jeremiah 29:11-12. I have relied on its strength through some of my own struggles, and I wanted it to permeate the story, especially in regards to Nicole. She began to claim verse 11 after the accident that left her virtually blind, but without the context of the verses that followed, she saw only a glimpse of God’s goodness. Verse 11 told her that He had a plan for her life and she held on to it like a lifeline. But she was convinced that God had only one plan. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until Devlin’s own revelation that she received the full blessing of verse 12—not only a plan, but a future filled with hope. I know I want God planning my future!
There were so many precious insights God gave me as I wrote this story, and I pray that you found something to touch your heart, as well. If so, I pray that God receives all of the glory. I hope, too, that you began a love for the Regency era that will last a lifetime.
Thank you for taking the time to read The Aristocrat’s Lady. I would love to hear from you. Visit my website at marymooreauthor.vpweb.com and drop me a note.
God bless you,
Mary Moore
The Aristocrat’s Lady
Mary Moore


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To:
Jesus Christ,
May God Get The Glory

and

To Craig
My husband and my best friend

“… Love is not love which alters when it alternation finds, … No! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken …”
William Shakespeare
“For I know the plans that I have for you,”
declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and
not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”
—Jeremiah 29:11 (NAS)

Chapter One
Lady Nicole Beaumont sighed as she walked along the terrace of the Elizabethan mansion. The air was surprisingly cool and lightly blowing over the palatial gardens behind the house. It was an immediate remedy to the stifling heat of the ballroom behind her. Tracing her hand along the marble railing, she reached the landing that led down into the meticulously patterned walkways. However, Nicole did not descend. She only listened to the sounds coming from the lake, the focal point of the famed park. She could hear the soft gliding of ducks as they floated across the smooth water. She smiled when she perceived one quacking truant dip its head into the cool pool only to bring it up again in a flurry of feathers.
The smell of roses was strong where she stood, and it took Nicole’s thoughts back to her own home in Gloucester. Roses had always been her favorite—she grew the most beautiful and unusual varieties.
She sighed again as she stood against the sculpted balustrade. London had been so much worse than she had imagined. Why had she allowed her mother to convince her it would be good for her to visit Town during the Season? Everything was at a faster pace, and her problems seemed magnified in the unending bustle of the city. Her incapacities only reminded her of her endless limitations.
This night she was attending a ball at the home of Lord and Lady Swathmore. It was their “country” home, though less than five miles outside of London. Nicole’s mother had been overjoyed at the invitation. Nicole had come to hate such fetes, but at least at Swathmore Hall there was an escape to fresh air. The past week had been spent in an endless round of soirees and balls in the sweltering heat of London, where the grand houses were bunched against each other like fancy flint boxes stacked in a row.
On this terrace Nicole could imagine she was back at home, and thought of the peace God had finally given her. She could, for a few moments, pretend the accident had never happened. The night air made her think of evening rides on Solomon. She could not ride very often, and never without her faithful servant, Toby, alongside. But she had to consider the good: now that the rides were more sedate, she could spend her time in prayer and contemplation. It had taken too long to be thankful for that, but she looked for those boons from life now.
Town had not brought Nicole the pleasure her mother had hoped for. Her disability overrode any enjoyment anticipated.
She castigated herself at the thought. Nicole had never truly imagined the trip would provide her much pleasure. Even her dismay at facing the height of the Season had been easy to set aside when she thought of the time she might devote to charitable endeavors that must abound. What she found had shaken her faith in her fellow man. The richest and most lavish city in Europe cared nothing for the poor among them. She had met people who did not give as much as a farthing to help others, while spending hundreds of pounds on a coat cut from the cloth of the famous Weston. Her altruistic intentions met with nothing but disdain. She sent up a silent prayer asking God for the direction He now so often showed her.
Suddenly, Nicole became aware that she was not alone. It came as quite a shock to realize she was so consumed by her own thoughts that she had no notion of the additional presence. She always tried to be very sensitive to her surroundings. Concentrating in earnest, she determined that her silent companion was a man. She could smell the pungent aroma of his cigar mixed with a cologne unfamiliar to her. The fragrance of roses in the air must have overpowered the scents he exuded. Or perhaps her slow pace had only now brought her near enough to notice it.
Unfortunately, the new smells only added to her nostalgic homesickness. Her father’s one vice had been his delight in “blowing a cloud,” and the memories associated with that pungent pastime were both happy and sad. When she was near him, the smell of horses and books often wafted over her, leaving a sense of security and stability. These were etched in her memory as clearly as every physical trait he possessed.
The cologne worn by Nicole’s unknown companion on the terrace was subtle and she liked it. She hated the practice of some of those who avoided bathing. Instead they dowsed themselves in scent, as if that made it better!
Focusing again on the present, Nicole sensed the man was behind her, probably up against the house in the shadows. She remained at the terrace railing and heard the ducks quacking at some disturbance in the distance. Her disquiet fled as she realized her servant, Toby, was close by.
She considered her actions carefully before deciding her best exit. She could easily turn and saunter back the way she had come, returning to the ballroom. But she was ever so reluctant to give up the quiet, cool atmosphere of the terrace for the sweltering heat in the crowded room. Her innate sense of justice also required that she beg forgiveness for interrupting someone else’s solitude.
Therefore, Nicole turned slightly and said in a low and clear voice, “I am terribly afraid I must beg your pardon for intruding upon you. I was so enjoying the peace and quiet that I did not realize until just this moment that anyone else was present. Please forgive the interruption. I will allow you to finish ‘blowing your cloud’ in peace.” She made a slight curtsey and turned, her hand retracing the smooth surface of the banister to the double doors she had earlier exited.
The man’s low chuckle stopped her.
His voice was deep, and at the moment, dripping with sarcasm. “Let a vision of beauty that is also well versed in such slang get away? Absolutely not! I am charmed and incredibly curious as to how your knowledge was acquired.”
Sarcastic or not, she knew a desire to stay and hear more of it. His voice was vibrant, Nicole thought decidedly, and certainly that of a gentleman. His words and manners were quite different from those of the simpering dandies she had met inside. However, she did not know how to respond to his jousting so was momentarily undecided as to her next move.
His lazy drawl interrupted her thoughts. “You have no need to apologize for interrupting my solitude. Studying the profile of a beautiful woman against the backdrop of a full moon is much more a pleasure than an intrusion.”
Nicole could feel herself color at his words. And she knew that in the semidarkness of the moonlit terrace, he could have little knowledge of her facial features. She had not heard such compliments in a long time and thought he must be very adept in the art of flirtation. She was glad for the darkness that covered her confusion. She had not responded to either of his statements and she felt awkward and tongue-tied.
The gentleman exhaled the smoke of his cigar then continued his preposterous flirting. “I realized quite soon that you were not aware of my existence, a severe blow to my ego by the by, so I determined to enjoy the view.”
Nicole spoke with wonder in her voice. “Why then did you not make your presence known? I should have left you to your thoughts and your cigar that much sooner.”
“At the risk of knowing your first opinion of me will be that I am an arrogant lout,” he answered, “I thought you had perhaps followed me here. I kept silent, hoping you would tire of your search and return to the dancing.”
She frowned at his logic. “Had I come in search of you, I should have called out to you in the hope of gaining your attention. I would not have stood by silently.” Her mind was so far from her calculating counterparts in London, his reasoning made no sense to her. She continued in naive explanation. “In any event, I would not have followed you at all, knowing I could speak to you when you returned to the ballroom. It would be quite obvious that you wished a moment alone when you left it, would it not?”
Lord Devlin sounded almost bitter in his reply. “I have very often found that the women who seek me out are not the least interested in conversation.”
She wondered at his comment.
“That is,” he drawled, “until her father, or a conveniently placed brother, is within hearing. They then become quite interested in talking, in loud voices and with crocodile tears.”
He explained further and with no little sarcasm. “My dear, their desire for ‘solitude’ is quite insincere. And their ‘conversation’ consists of one word … compromise. You see, I am up to every rig.”
In a flash she turned toward him, her clenched knuckles on the balustrade the only indication of concealed fury.
Nicole gasped at the realization that this man had the audacity to assume her on the catch for a husband! Her temper flared, and her mother’s reminder that her tongue would one day get her into trouble went unheeded. Nicole ground out in a low and dangerous voice, “Have no fear, sir, I have no brothers, no father, no uncles, not even a distant cousin of the male persuasion waiting to cause you such distress. As I have no idea who you are and no interest in marriage, forced or not, you are completely safe from me.”
She never raised her voice during her biting speech. “Furthermore,” she continued acidly, “as you have clearly pointed out your arrogant tendencies, I am surprised any female would willingly sacrifice herself on the altar of marriage to you.”
She turned to go, but was sorry for losing her temper with a total stranger. Her nature demanded she make an apology, though her heart balked at the idea. She said a quick prayer, asking God to help her convey her sincerity. “I am sorry I intruded. I will leave you to the solitude of the terrace,” and in her pique she added, “without feeling trapped and without childish temper tantrums.” She did not bother with the required curtsey, but slowly walked away.
In an instant shock replaced her anger … he was laughing at her! It brought her up short, and she turned back toward him to find out what had amused him so.
“If you do not be quiet,” she shushed him, “you will bring a crowd from the ballroom and cause just the sort of scene you have been trying to avoid.” She heard him push away from the wall of the house, and it took only one long stride to reach her side.
Nicole turned back toward the gardens behind the house, still blushing at her outburst. She felt his hands lightly on her shoulders turning her to face him; she would not, however, raise her eyes to his face.
He tweaked her chin with his thumb and forefinger saying, “Put your claws away and cry peace with me. I deserved every bit of that masterful set-down. Indeed, several of my acquaintances would have paid a king’s ransom to hear it! I sincerely beg your pardon.”
In an apologetic voice he continued, “I realized you were not one of the many ‘title hunters’ in attendance tonight. Even as I intended to introduce myself to you, you became aware of my presence and we came to blows. Can you pardon me?”
Nicole heard the sincerity in his voice and, not knowing why, believed it. She gently responded, “It seems that we have stepped upon each other’s toes in our efforts for a moment alone. I do accept your apology and would ask in return that you forgive my wretched tongue and temper, both of which flare up far too often for my mother’s peace of mind.”
She discovered that close proximity to this man made her heart do strange things, made her wish for other than what God intended for her. She determined to leave his presence as quickly as possible. “I really must get back inside. My mother will undoubtedly be looking for me. It was a pleasure to make your acquaint-tance.” Nicole turned to go, but once again his voice stopped her.
“I beg to differ, ma’am,” he said close to her ear. “I have not yet made your acquaintance, and contrary to your need of fresh air, I had the distinct impression you were hiding from something. If not hiding, you would have remained had I not been here.”
Nicole did not respond, but let her thoughts run rampant. She could almost feel him studying her profile so she turned away. With the intuition she had developed, she knew he was not a man in the first blush of youth. Now that her initial anger had subsided, she began to see the humor in the situation and felt an intense wish to stay and converse with this man. She knew it would be quite improper, but the inane pleasantries she had been forced to endure at recent soirees made her long for a normal and intelligent conversation with someone who had no preconceived notions of her. Truth to tell, she asked herself if a moonlight discourse with someone she did not know could be considered a normal conversation.
However, it was too late, and she was beyond rational thinking. She wanted to pretend she was whole and that an interesting man found her company enjoyable. She raised her head at the sound of the agitated ducks.
The gentleman broke into her thoughts. “You will think me mad, indeed I am beginning to agree with you, but since you lost your temper with me, you have … I cannot explain it, you have withdrawn. Despite what they say killed that woebegone cat, I find myself curious. Indeed, I have wanted to ask you why such a beautiful woman attending the most exclusive house party in London would be here on the terrace instead of wrapping every man in the room around her little finger.” He continued, sounding puzzled. “In fact, while you did not know I was here I even heard a sigh or two.”
It was now Nicole’s turn to chuckle as she turned back toward the house, leaning her back against the railing. Suddenly Nicole felt she could be herself. “It appears you consider yourself quite perceptive, sir. I admit I may have sighed at the pure joy of the fresh air, however, that is where I draw the line. That borders on a fit of the vapors, and I assure you I have never resorted to those.” She raised her nose just slightly in the air, appearing to snub him. His surprised bark of laughter confirmed to her she had met a kindred spirit amidst all the trappings of London.
“I am Nicole Beaumont, and I admit to a small amount of despondency because I miss home. The breeze on my face was a feeling I had almost forgotten since arriving in London.”
She felt him beside her now, leaning his back against the railing. “Where is your home, if I may be so bold, and what makes you miss it so?” She knew the need to return to her mother, but did not yet wish to go.
For just an instant, Nicole wondered if she could be completely honest with this man. Finding herself shocked at the thought of telling the gentleman all about herself on less than half an hour’s acquaintance, she simply answered, “The quiet here reminds me a little of home, a chance to put London’s glitter into perspective.”
“Those seem very serious thoughts for a beautiful young woman at an exclusive ball. Are you one of those Methodists who eschews the upper classes?”
She was pensive for a moment. “No, I am not. I cannot despise Society when God has placed me here. But I feel … sorrow that what is important in Society is what is transpiring in the ballroom. I see little evidence that much else matters except to see and be seen.”
“I see that getting to know you could take a bit more time than the space of a ball.”
Nicole smiled at his restraint. She knew he would have little patience for such words had he not been intent upon flirting with her. Would she be missing the one chance she had to tell him about her beliefs? It was clear the conversation would never fit into the short space of time on a moonlit terrace, so she answered his question. “My home is in Cheltenham in Gloucester. My father’s estate is there, and I am securely attached to it and its inhabitants.” She had almost forgotten he was present. “The scents of the garden were making me nostalgic as well. I am afraid I am quite the enthusiast when it comes to roses and I had a decided curiosity toward Mr. Repton and his work here.”
She had to rein her thoughts in once again. “Unfortunately, I could not leave the ballroom earlier when I could have strolled through the famed atrium he created for Lady Swathmore. I understand his acclaimed work with fountains is represented here as well.” She smiled unevenly as she said, “What a pity it is a sight that only the rich and prestigious may see.”
She shook off her melancholy. “However, the smell of the roses was enough to carry me back to the country. Believe it or not, I even miss my chores!” She chuckled at the last. “Since my father died I have been helping to run our estate. The new earl has not yet … taken an interest in his new home.” She shook off that thought. “I am even more amazed at how much time is taken up in London with nothing getting accomplished!” She stopped on this comment, embarrassed again for going on about a subject of absolutely no interest to anyone but herself.
“I am amazed that I have only now had the pleasure of meeting you!”
Nicole was not in the least surprised. “We have just spent the past five hours in the same house and we have not met.” She left unsaid her purpose to avoid as much of the company as possible. “Unlike you, I am surprised that even though the same people attend the same affairs night after night no one gets better acquainted. I have come to the conclusion that the hosts of such events only count them a success should their drawing rooms be so overcrowded that guests need only spend a few moments in each other’s company!”
“I can see,” he said, very seriously, “each time we begin a conversation you will twist it so that I get no answer at all.” His stature changed and he became less flirtatious. “I apologize in advance for once again sounding arrogant, but whether I wish it or not, I usually come into contact with the new crop of belles each Season. Had I met you sooner, I would know more about you now than that you are attached to your home and that you are a follower of Mr. Repton. I, too, have a particular interest in his work, although I find some of his designs too intricate and symmetrical for my taste. Much more to my liking are some of Sir William Townsend Aiton’s ideas in the royal gardens.”
She let out a little gasp of surprise.
“You see, even on so short acquaintance we have much in common, and I am not the conceited simpleton you think me!”
He left the topic, however. “Do not imagine I have forgotten the provocative comment you made about having no desire to marry. That in itself makes you different from every other woman here.”
The gentleman placed his finger under her chin and gently turned her head toward him. It was too intimate a gesture for a first meeting and it embarrassed her. “Your attention seems bent solely upon this stone terrace. Oddly enough I would prefer it to be on me, despite my earlier attempts to send you off posthaste.”
Nicole could not raise her eyes to his. She was afraid her confused emotions might show. Why would this man, who by his own admission was much sought after, show interest in her? Did he intend to add her name to a list of conquests? She had foolishly admitted she had no males to protect her, though she knew Toby would not stand idly by and see her hurt.
His hand still cupped her chin, and it made Nicole feel decidedly strange. She had never felt such an immediate connection with a man and she could not explain it. Lord, protect me from this gentleman and from myself, she prayed quickly. This is what it could be like, if her malady did not exist.
She turned her face back toward the candlelit ballroom. She knew God’s plan for her did not include marriage, but in her daydreams, she still saw it all. She would meet a man she could love who would share her humor and appreciation for the country. She dared to conjure up someone who would appreciate her family ties, but especially her love of God. He would accept her, defects and all.
Dream though she might, she was much too practical to dwell on what could not be. She must rely on the verses in Jeremiah that now gave her confidence. For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Her expected end did not include marriage, but God promised His peace would accompany it.
“You must forgive me. I meant no insult.” He resorted to humor again. “I do believe you and the moonlight have conspired to bewitch me!” Flirting followed close on its heels. “I do not believe that I have ever spent half an hour with a woman without once hearing the latest gossip or being asked to give my opinion on a new bonnet. Your conversation pleases me. I believe I have determined Society to be a dead bore.”
Nicole could almost hear his mind working, and somehow she knew he would continue with a preposterous statement.
“Let me assure you, however, if you should wish to discuss bonnets, I trust I could hold my own.”
She tried to hold back her laughter, but said in a choked voice, “I have no doubt about it, sir.” Nicole was confused, to say the least. First he made her laugh, then angry, then laugh again! She made an instant decision that there was a great deal too much disparity in their lives for such a friendship to prosper. Her heart fought her stubborn head, but she could not afford to let go of the plans she believed God intended for her life. “I accept your apology then, but I really must go now. Do forgive me.”
Suddenly Nicole heard her mother’s voice as she came out into the darkness from the sparkling ballroom. “Nicky, dear, are you out here? There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you and was starting to worry. I knew you wanted to sneak out to the gardens and was afraid you might have gotten … Oh dear, who are you?” Her mother was indignant. “Nicky, what can you mean standing alone in the dark with a man?”
“Mama, nothing untoward happened. I came out for a breath of fresh air. You know how easily the stifling heat drives me out of doors. Unfortunately, I interrupted this poor … um, gentleman … seeking the same.”
Nicole heard his muted chuckle at her obvious hesitation before using the word “gentleman” and rushed on. “I was just excusing myself to return to you.”
The “gentleman” was back on familiar ground, however, and began a charming assault on Nicole’s mother. “Please, ma’am, let me introduce myself to you. I am Jared DeVale, Lord Devlin, at your service. Your daughter and I were just discussing bonnets when you came out. I was hoping she might help me decide on something perfect for my grandmother.”
Nicole commented under her breath that she did not believe for one instant he had a grandmother. It reached his ears and caused a delighted gleam to enter his eyes. How wonderful it was to have someone understand and appreciate one’s sense of humor.
Nicole knew that once her mother learned he was a London lord, she would change from indignant to indulgent on the instant. The time had come to end this meeting and put the whole episode behind her. “Lord Devlin, I am afraid that my mother, Lady Beaumont, has probably called for our carriage by now. She knows how these late evenings tire me.”
Lady Beaumont’s surprise at a statement made by her daughter, who had more stamina than a regiment of soldiers, made her uneasy.
“It has been a pleasure discussing … ah … bonnets with you, my lord, and I pray you will give your dear grandmother our regards.”
“I certainly shall, my lady,” he said, chuckling out loud. He then added, “Lady Beaumont, I hope that you will allow me to call on you in London next week. Ladies, you have my compliments.” With that, he bowed and passed them into the house.
As Nicole and her mother linked arms and walked back toward the ballroom, Nicole vowed she would forget this night had ever happened, and she would certainly never think again for one moment about Jared DeVale, Lord Devlin!

Chapter Two
“Lord Devlin! Dear Nicky, he is only the most sought-after man in all of London. And an earl! Of course he may call on us if he wishes. I only pray that you do not get your hopes up too high. No doubt he offers such compliments as a general rule and cannot remember even half the people he meets.” Nicole and her mother were in the carriage on the way home after bidding farewell to Lady Swathmore.
“Nicky, you must at least have heard about him. I vow I hear something new of him wherever we go.” Her mother’s voice changed to a discreet whisper. “I declare he is even more handsome than rumor has it. His raven-black hair makes him most dashing. He is reputed to have the bluest eyes in all of London. Such a pity I could not make them out in the dark. I recall someone telling me that he once caused a young lady to faint with his intense gaze. I suppose she must have been quite a goose to have been so overset.” Nicole could only smile at her mother’s words. “I thought his hair a trifle too long to be quite fashionable,” her mother continued, “but young men are of a different stamp than in my day. However, most of the ladies seem to like it very much. Tell me, Nicky, what did you think of him?”
Fortunately, her mother did not require an actual response.
“Apparently he is still quite popular, though he is considered somewhat haughty and standoffish.” Lady Beaumont finished her descriptions of the gentleman with a sigh. “Nicky, were I twenty years younger I should be vying for his attentions myself!”
Nicole could hold her laughter no longer and leaned over to hug her mother. “I believe you would win his heart immediately, did he know it,” Nicole bubbled.
She had known from the timbre of Lord Devlin’s voice and his natural arrogance that he must be much sought after. But now that her mother had expounded on his reputation, Nicole could be sure it had just been a moonlight flirtation and she could forget it ever happened. In any event, she supposed she could try.
“Mama, this whole evening was a disappointment to both of us. Sitting out all of the dances is becoming excruciating, especially when I am stuck in conversation with the likes of Lord Stokes. I do not make friends of my own when I sit with the dowagers all evening. My only pleasure was to be the cool breeze on the terrace, yet what was the outcome? I am accused of trying to compromise some haughty lord into marriage! I am weary of this and wish to go home.”
“What in heaven’s name are you talking of?” Her mother stared in question but continued in complaint. “Really, Nicky, you will say anything to shorten our stay, and you promised you would try to enjoy it. You are the one who set the conditions during this trip. You vowed no one must know of your condition and now you are complaining because it hinders you from enjoying any of the events. Why can we not admit your situation and get on with it?”
Nicky reached over to her mother and hugged her again. “Mama, I am sorry to be such a disappointment to you. I know you think if I told everyone about the accident things would be better. But do you not see that they would be so much worse? Now I am only relegated to the dowager section and can still sit out dances with some conversation. If Society knew about me, no one would know how to treat me. People would ignore me because they would not know what to say to me.”
Nicole continued in a tired voice, “Mama, anyone here who would accept my inabilities would be friendly enough, but then I would be cosseted to death. You know that is worse than anything for me. You promised if I agreed to come to London we could keep it a secret as long as possible. That gives me the illusion of having a normal Season.”
Lady Beaumont sighed and took Nicole’s hand. “My dear, I only want to give you the chance to meet someone you could love and trust, as I did your dear father. People are not intentionally mean or cruel, just ignorant of differences they do not understand.” She gripped Nicole’s hand tightly. “Every man you meet will not be like Michael. What he did was abominable. When you meet the man God intended for you, he will appreciate the strength and courage you have shown and will love you as much as we do.”
She hurried on. “We must also have faith that Dr. Morrison will give you a brighter prognosis for the future.” She patted her daughter’s hand in sympathy. “Now no more talk of going home. We will be back at Beaufort Hall soon enough.”
“Very well, Mama. Why do you not rest until we get home. You know Chelsea may have fallen asleep in one of our beds and will want a full account of the ball when we get there.” Nicole had yearned for solitude on the drive home, but her mind betrayed her by reliving the wonderful time spent on the Swathmores’ terrace. Since the drastic change in her life, Nicole had come to the conclusion that she must remain unwed and was unwavering in her decision. Her mother’s mention of Michael only confirmed it.
Michael had been the first man she had really loved. He was a doctor and she had thought so highly of him. She had looked forward to sharing a life helping others and raising children among the families and friends in Cheltenham. She had thought she had found that with Michael. But when she had had her accident, he had become more and more distant until he had finally asked her to release him from his promise. He needed a helpmeet, he had said. She could no longer be that. With a heart that only she’d known was broken, she had released him. That’s when she had learned that the disability that had so affected her life, making each day harder to cope with, also made her a burden. She had determined she would not be a burden to her family, and she had become resolved never to be a burden to a husband.
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 each time he saw her now, and he knew she could no longer get out of the Bath chair she had once used only as a convenience. She was more special to him than she would ever know.
Lady Augusta, the dowager countess, was his fraternal grandmother and had always tried her best to shield him from his father’s harshness. Devlin’s mother had been too weak to stand up to the fifth Earl of DeVale. Even Devlin’s marriage had been loveless. But his grandmother was strong and her protection had often spared him unjust punishment. They soon came to share a love built on respect and caring that he had never felt before or since.
Indeed, he always looked forward to time with his grandmother. Thinking about it now, he realized he had grown up hearing of his grandmother’s great dependence on God. Lady Nicole also broached that subject.
But as Devlin grew and became more and more embittered with his father and society in general, his grandmother’s beliefs seemed incongruous in the world he lived in.
He supposed his grandmother’s faith in a supreme being had kept him from overt surprise when Lady Nicole had indicated the same. But he believed as a young, beautiful woman in the midst of a London Season, it would be a simple matter to trust in an all-loving God. She had not seen enough of the world to be jaded as he had.
His grandmother was convinced there was still a woman for him who would unlock his heart, and she often castigated Jared’s father for the tangle he had made of her grandson’s life.
Devlin looked forward to recounting to Lady Augusta the details of the Swathmore ball, especially an incident with a platter of turbot, but he did not think he would yet mention the mysterious episode on the terrace. He had not convinced himself that it was not all a trick of the moonlight!
He entered his grandmother’s drawing room and found her comfortably ensconced in her Bath chair near the fire.
“Jared,” she said with a loving smile. “I am so glad you have come.”
Devlin leaned down to kiss the weathered cheek then brought both of her fragile hands up to his lips.
“My lady,” he reproved her, “what are you about, to give up your rest to wait upon me? I should never have asked to come had I suspected you would jeopardize your health over it!” Pulling a covered footstool closer to her chair, he sat before her.
“Goodness, Jared.” It was the lady’s turn to scowl. “What an abominable greeting.” She had feigned anger, but she soon looked at him with her dazzling smile as she squeezed his hand. “My dear, you must not scold me. Tell me all about the ball. Indeed, I shall surprise my neighbors by knowing all the gossip before they do!”
An image of a dark-haired beauty on a moonlit terrace flashed through Devlin’s mind. He decided that despite what he had just told himself, sharing that unexpected encounter would not only please his grandmother, but would possibly help him dispel the air of mystery he had put upon it.
“It was no different from any other of the balls I have attended over the past ten years. I did meet an unusual woman. She left, however, before she could become a dead bore.”
She casually asked him while taking a sip of her tea, “Did you set up a new flirt, dear?”
Devlin laughed out loud. “Grandmother, you are a complete hand!”
“You avoid my question, Jared.”
Devlin laughed again and held up both hands as if to ward off a blow.
“Then tell me, dear, who is it that piqued your interest tonight?” Lady Augusta watched a faraway look come into her grandson’s eyes. She was now certainly intrigued.
“Your description is quite apt, Grandmother. Lady Nicole definitely ‘piqued my interest.’ The sameness of such events is becoming tedious. Dare I admit I was in a dark corner hoping to avoid notice?”
“If what I hear is correct, you very seldom avoid notice.”
“When I was young I found all of the attention quite diverting. I enjoyed the antics some women went to just to get my attention. Fainting spells and sprained ankles were a common occurrence when I was by.” He looked at the older woman with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I would know, do they teach women those maneuvers from a young age, or must you invent such ploys as you go along?”
“Do not be impertinent, Jared. You know very well I despise such artifice.”
He was obediently contrite. “I apologize, ma’am.” He continued with his train of thought. “But after Vivian, I no longer saw such machinations as humorous, and I can no longer even pretend to be flattered by them. These women have no knowledge of me beside what they have heard through the gossipmongers. Yet it seems not to matter as long as I am a wealthy earl.” He stopped, downing the rest of his brandy all at once.
Lady Augusta patted his hand. “I gather the someone you met tonight was quite different?”
“To own the truth, Grandmother, I do not know. I know that while we conversed she had no idea who I was. However, I do believe that had she known, she would not have behaved any differently. I suppose the fact that she did not fawn over me explains my notice of her.” He hoped he sounded nonchalant to his grandmother.
“You begin to interest me greatly, Jared. Why would she have acted differently had she known who you were?”
“I am afraid I was a bit … ah … starched up, and she gave me quite a set-down. I believe you would have liked her immensely!”
“Jared, what in the world …?”
“Do not be alarmed, I did nothing too outlandish!” He winked to reassure his grandmother. “I am only aware that had I behaved so to someone knowing my identity, I cannot help but believe they would have playfully rapped me with their fan and called me a shocking tease. It was quite diverting to be put in my place for a change.
“It made me wish to further the acquaintance. However, soon after she left the ball with her mother, and I had no opportunity to determine whether her indifference was only another creative attempt at catching a husband or a shocking decline in my wit and charm.” He doubted he would ever know the answer and was a little surprised that he wished it otherwise.
“Do not worry, I have not lost my wits,” he continued, striving to stay away from deeper ruminations. “Having an interesting, intelligent conversation with a female not intent on fawning on me was quite pleasant.”
“She sounds quite spirited,” his grandmother remarked cautiously.
“Yes, I believe she must be, but I own she was quite composed after our initial encounter. I am inclined to believe the set-down was a little out of character for her. She was quite reticent thereafter and never looked me in the eye. It was fleeting, but I thought you would enjoy knowing my evening had not been quite as boring as most.”
He would have been quite surprised to hear Lady Nicole making the same explanation to her little sister back in London!

Chapter Three
“Lady Nick?”
“Yes, Toby?”
“There’s a caller waiting for you in the blue drawing room. Lady B sent me ‘ere to fetch you.”
Botheration! In the early mornings Nicole was free to do as she wished. That wish entailed spending time in the small garden she had lovingly tended since their arrival in Town. Many mornings she would just sit and appreciate working with the flowers and herbs, especially their fragrances. She was now able to separate each smell. She delighted in the sweet perfume of the roses as well as the pungent, tangy scent of the thyme.
Now her only solitude was to be interrupted.
“Toby, Mama would have a fit of the vapors if I greeted anyone dressed like this. Could you please let her know I have gone to change?”
Stella helped Nicole change into a dark blue morning gown with an Empire waist and a high white ruffled collar. There was a white ribbon tied around the empire waist, which hung to the floor and accentuated the collar. The sleeves were short blue puffs with the same white ruffle at the hem. Stella did not have time to curl her hair, so she just brushed it until it shone, then pulled it up in a blue-and-white ribbon.
Toby took her arm at the bottom of the stairs, taking her to the morning room. “Do you know who the caller is?”
“Nope, can’t say that I do. Didn’t feel it was my place to ask. Your mother sent me for you before she went into the drawing room.”
“I suppose it makes little difference. Thank you for your help.”
Nicole knocked on the drawing room door, then opened it and entered, saying, “I am sorry for the delay, Mother. As you know I was working in the garden and had to change my …”
“Darling,” Lady Beaumont said, interrupting her daughter in an obvious state of agitation, “only see who has called on us this morning.” Her voice sounded distraught as she added, “You remember Lord Devlin?”
The look on Nicole’s face must have been identical to the one her mother had presented, for Lord Devlin laughed and said, “I see I have caught both of you ladies quite by surprise this morning.” Since Nicole did not move in his direction, he walked to her and raised her hand to his lips in a light salute.
Nicole was nervous, and her thoughts were running rampant. What was he doing here? It had been over two weeks since they had met! In those first few days she had lived in dread and in hope of having him call. She’d spent days after the ball trying to remember what had been said in the shadows of a moonlit balcony.
She finally decided that she did not give a hang what he was like, as it appeared he would not further the acquaintance. As the days passed into weeks, she accepted his defection. Her mother told her not to compare the men she would meet to Michael. Yet the only other man she had been attracted to since Michael had reacted the same. So she had convinced herself to keep him as a special memory and nothing more. Now he was here, and she was not prepared.
“Mama, I am sure you have ordered some refreshment for his lordship. Shall I check on what is keeping it?”
“Darling, I did offer, but Lord Devlin said he could not stay but a moment.” Indecision was evident in her voice.
Lord Devlin was enjoying himself immensely. During Nicole’s deafening silence, he had ample time to reassure himself that he had not imagined her beauty. She was not in the first blush of youth, but she looked in daylight as she had in the shadows! The Empire design kept him in the dark as to her figure, but her hair was long and chestnut with a few tendrils escaping the ribbon in back. Her eyes were large, thick-lashed and very brown.
He wished he could just sit and study all the nuances Lady Nicole presented. He watched her as she wrung her hands in her lap. He watched her foot tap under her skirt, and imagined that sitting still in her chair was driving her to distraction. Yes, he was enjoying himself to the hilt!
“I did mention to your mother that I cannot stay. I wished, however, to call upon you and ask if you would do me the honor of driving with me this afternoon. I want to apologize for not calling on you sooner. I went to visit my grandmother in Beckenham after the ball that night. Unfortunately she was not feeling as well as I had hoped, so I remained with her an extra week.”
The flash of outrage on Nicole’s face vanished quickly, but his intense study of her did not allow it to pass unnoticed. She still doubted that he had a grandmother at all!
“My lord, I would be honored to drive out with you today. However, I find the crush of carriages during the five o’clock hour puts quite a damper on the excursion.” She seemed to be bored. “I have come to wonder why anyone actually calls it a drive?”
The chit was being impertinent, and he could not wait to see where it led!
“Perhaps if we go a little earlier, we might truly enjoy it. Oh dear, I should not be putting you out so,” she said, though he did not think her sorry in the least. “I am imposing—please forgive me. Perhaps we may go another time.”
The impudent minx was actually giving him another set-down! She acted as though she did not care a jot whether she was seen driving in his curricle at the fashionable hour! Now he knew why he could not forget her. She was original and quite able to handle herself … and him!
Two could play at such a game, he thought. “Six o’clock would be better for me, my lady. It will be a little cooler then as well.” At her barely perceptible acquiescence, he rose. “Thank you for your time this morning, I look forward to this afternoon.” He bowed, and turned toward the door.
Nicole’s mother stopped him in the doorway. “Perhaps, my lord, since you will be driving with Nicky so late, you would care to stay and have supper with us afterward? I know it would be unusual,” she said in a small stammer, “however, it is our ‘at home’ night, and you would be very welcome. We are quite informal on such evenings. We would not expect you to change from your driving clothes.”
Devlin’s instinct was to give a cool denial and stop any pretensions early. But he was intrigued by the beautiful Nicole and decided to withhold presupposition at least until after the drive. He could always “remember” a prior engagement if it became necessary.
Lord Devlin shocked Nicole by saying, “I would be charmed, Lady Beaumont.” As he walked out the door he said, “Lady Nicole, my carriage will call for you at six.”
Several hours later, the usually composed Nicole was in a state of high fidgets. Drat the man! she thought. She stamped her foot in vexation. Why could he not have taken the hint to go away? His appearance had upset her entire notion of priority!
And what was her mother about, inviting him to dinner? He was a famous Corinthian! He did not do “at homes” with a countrified family he had seen only twice. It must be so unusual that it amused him to accept. He was likely ruing the day he had ever expressed an interest in calling on them.
It was too late now, however. She only hoped it would not prove too embarrassing and that he would allow them to get through the last few weeks of the Season in relative obscurity. With his standing in Society, he had the power to make them the laughingstock of London. Home looked even more tempting!
Nicole finally settled on a russet driving gown and Stella chose a matching spencer and hat. Her dress was very simple, and she tied her hair in a loose chignon at her nape to keep it from blowing during the drive. She was in the foyer pulling on her gloves when a knock sounded at the front door. Geeves bowed gracefully. “Your lordship.”
Devlin came to Nicole immediately and raised her gloved hand to his lips in a swift kiss. He did not hold it overlong and she complimented him on his promptness.
“On the contrary,” he said in a teasing tone, “I believe my groom will like you immensely. He will be amazed that he will not have to keep the horses standing. I have sometimes driven ladies who are not known for being ready beforehand.”
“My lord, do not be absurd. I do understand the importance of a late entrance at a ball when just the right dramatic flair must be achieved,” she said, raising her nose to highlight her words. “But even I know better than to make a famous Corinthian keep his horses waiting!” She smiled, hoping he found her diverting in return. “You will note my astute awareness that you are a famous Corinthian. It is new knowledge, I will admit. I was not previously aware there was a specific title for such a sportsman before I came to London, but I am now cognizant of how important your horses must be to you.” Nicole finished her absurd greeting by taking his arm and asking, “Do you not then normally drive out with intelligent women, my lord?”
Devlin laughed aloud at Lady Nicole’s teasing while trying to reconcile it with her attitude of cool pride earlier in the morning. He must remember to expect the unexpected from this fascinating woman. But all he said was, “You would be surprised, my dear, very surprised.”
As they took the first step out of doors, Nicole begged his patience for one moment. “My lord, may I let my mother know what time you envision returning for supper?”
“If you are up to it, my lady, I propose that instead of going to the park where we might still run the risk of congested pathways, we take a leisurely drive through London. I daresay we should not be much more than an hour or so. I brought my curricle rather than my phaeton so we could converse easily. In my curricle, I may pay more attention to my companion than to my driving.”
“I would enjoy a drive through Town very much,” she said. Nicole then turned to the butler and said, “Geeves, would you let my mother know an hour or so for dinner, and would you please let Toby know we are ready to leave.”
Lord Devlin was confused. “Toby?” he asked. “Is there someone else joining us? It may cause us to be overcrowded.”
Who the deuce was Toby? he asked himself. He was trying hard not to show his vexation. He had truly been looking forward to this time alone with her, and now it was being ruined by someone he had never heard of.
“Oh dear, I am so sorry, my lord! Toby is my servant. Actually, more than a servant to me—he goes with me whenever I leave the house. He will ride in the back with your groom if that is acceptable, and I assure you he will not crowd us or inconvenience us in any way.”
He was not pleased. “I have apparently given you some cause for concern if you feel the need to provide your own chaperon,” Lord Devlin said coolly. “Let me put you at ease, my lady. I am not in the habit of seducing young ladies of Quality in broad daylight.”
She put her hand on his arm and said softly, “Forgive me, my lord, I had no intention of making you angry. Toby is not for propriety, and I am sorry if I gave you that impression. You see, I was in an … accident two years ago and Toby serves as my personal servant whenever I am out, in the event any special need should arise.” She took her hand off his arm and turned away, red and flushed. “I have come to take Toby so much for granted that I sometimes forget to inform others when making plans. I will certainly understand if you wish to cry off from the drive.”
Suddenly, Devlin felt like the worst cad. Why had he jumped to such conclusions without any basis? Why had it made him so angry that she might be bringing someone else? And why, after she explained about the accident, did he still resent the servant? He wanted to meet any special needs that might arise, though he had no idea what those might be.
These were new emotions for him, and it piqued his curiosity even more. He had been intrigued at the outset, anxious to know her better, and this was his opportunity.
“Lady Nicole, if we are to be friends as I hope, you may as well know now that I have a terror of a temper and it does not require much provocation. It is I who owe you an apology for jumping to conclusions, and I beg your forgiveness. Your servant is welcome to come along and I certainly have no plans to cancel our engagement, unless you are wishing me at Jericho.”
Nicole turned back to him with a dazzling smile that made him quite happy she had not changed their plans. “Now that your groom really will be angry to have his horses kept standing, you will surely lose his approval on your taste in driving companions!” Then in a more serious vein she added, “You have certainly seen my temper flare and forgiven my outbursts. I can do no less for you.”
Toby, the manservant who was six feet four if he was an inch, was up with his groom and offered with a grunt, “A great pair of grays, Guv’nor. Ain’t never seen a better-matched pair.”
Lord Devlin humbly thanked the servant, who was, by the by, the first to take the liberty of commenting upon his cattle. He noticed a small, almost thankfu smile appear on the face of Lady Nicole. Was there no end to the mysteries surrounding this woman?
Devlin handed her into his equipage and walked around to climb in the other side. He began to steer clear of the busy Berkeley Square traffic and to move toward the outskirts of London.
Nicole purposely complimented him on his grays and his driving skill. She had secretly been concerned he might be a bit too sporting for her capabilities, but he made her feel very safe. She hoped the compliment would do much to appease their earlier contretemps.
He seemed to be concentrating minimally on the task of driving, but had not yet opened the conversation. She, therefore, resorted to humor and questioned him in a whisper, “May I ask you about something you said earlier, my lord?”
“You certainly may, my lady.”
“I would be interested to know when it is your habit to seduce innocent females, since it is not during daylight and not before dinner.”
His loud crack of laughter booming from the curricle drew the stares of several pedestrians on Berkeley Square, and not a few comments on the lack of gentility in young people today!
Lord Devlin was an excellent tour guide. He spoke freely of London’s more interesting sights, and she appeared to listen closely to his words without the silly interruptions usually accompanying such an outing with other females. When he pointed out the famed Drury Lane Theatre, he felt her excitement increase though she did not speak. He thought he could not be mistaken in her reaction. “Have you had an opportunity to visit the theater since being in Town?” Devlin inquired.
“No,” Nicole replied, softly. “I have often dreamed of attending Drury Lane, but Mama has not allowed us the time on this trip.” She laughed and shook her head. “I shall put myself beyond the pale by telling you that as a child I wished to be an actress. I was quite downcast for several weeks and took my parents seriously to task for being wellborn!”
“I have a new respect and compassion for your mother and father, my dear. Had I been your sire, I may have resorted to locking you in your room until you reached your majority.”
Devlin had a difficult time keeping his eyes off her face. She made no reply, but her smile seemed to shine directly from her heart. What an unusual woman! She truly enjoyed his light banter, unlike the females who tittered and slapped his arm while declaring him a horrible tease.
Conversation ceased for several moments as Lord Devlin maneuvered his team through the busy city streets. Very soon they were past the outskirts of London, and Devlin chose a path along the Thames which he knew was less traveled.
“The roses and honeysuckle smell simply wonderful,” Lady Nicole said. Her eyes closed in the enjoyment of it. “I do not believe I have been to this part of the city before.”
The voice of her manservant sounded from behind them. It momentarily diverted Lord Devlin’s attention.
“There’s them yellow roses you love so much over to the right, my lady.”
“Ah, Toby, thank you,” she said as she turned her head in that direction.
Perhaps, thought Devlin, she was one of the very progressive elite who allowed their servants much freedom. He knew his grandmother gave her servants much license; she believed them to be her equals in God’s eyes. More likely, Lady Nicole’s accident had given him more prominence than was usual. Devlin was certainly puzzled by the enigma.
He slowed his horses to a sedate trot. The almost deserted lane allowed him to turn his full attention to the lovely woman beside him.
“The time has come, my lady,” Devlin began. “I have waited patiently during the past two weeks to hear all about you. I would like a history of Lady Nicole Beaumont, and I shall not hesitate to quiz your charming mother should you try to dissemble.”
Nicole seemed easier in his company today, but still showed signs of reticence. She would make a teasing comment with a sparkle in her eye, then her countenance would change and he sensed an inner turmoil in her. He would take an oath she had been happy just seconds before, then as quickly, her thoughts seemed to take her deep inside herself.
He had been intrigued since meeting her, yet he admitted that her many facets might require more attention than he had ever invested in a woman. He had promised himself that after his marriage to Vivian, he would only enter into a relationship with all the cards on the table. He knew he must marry again eventually; as head of the family he must produce an heir. But he justified that at the age of one and thirty he had plenty of time.
He decided he was on the verge of a relationship with this woman, he just did not know yet of what nature. Confound it! This was the third time they had met, but he felt so drawn to her that he was sure he had to know her better.
Devlin had told her he wished them to be friends. But he had never been simply friends with a female. Truth to tell, he would not have believed such a relationship possible had not his own best friend, Lord Hampton, had such a friendship with the woman he had eventually married. There had been the rub! Peter had been adamant that they were just friends for years. The problem was, it had ended in their marriage. Beth was a wonderful woman, but Devlin found it hard to believe that their relationship as friends had only been the natural incline of deeper feelings. Peter even went so far as to say that having been friends first only increased the satisfaction in their marriage. Devlin felt only doubt.
But it was no use. He had allowed his curiosity to override his judgment, and he knew he would be unable to dismiss the intriguing Lady Nicole. He told himself he only wished to enjoy the remainder of the Season with a light flirtation. He would feel no remorse, as both of them had clearly dismissed marriage the night they met.
He felt her forcibly lighten her mood next to him. She apologized and drew his attention back to his earlier request. “My lord, there is no mystery or excitement to my life. I am afraid you shall be terribly disappointed if you have truly been waiting weeks to hear of it!” Her laughter delighted him. He found he enjoyed making her laugh and that, too, was a new feeling to him.
“I have no reluctance to tell you, my lord, I only fear boring you to tears. I would not be able to face my family should you send me home alone in your curricle.”
“You are trying to throw me off the scent, my dear, but to no avail. I am inclined to be gregarious this afternoon. Tell me about your home. Or you may talk of your parents, how well you watercolor—whatever interests you.” He paused for a moment. “And as we have agreed that we shall become fast friends, I would be honored if you would call me Jared.”
“My lord, you cannot be serious?” she asked incredulously. “You know how very improper that would be. Why, the first time anyone heard me call you such, I would be labeled forward and be ostracized from the little of the ton that accepts me now.” She thought he must be teasing her again, so she smiled as she said, “Or is that your diabolical plan?”
He was perfectly serious in reply, however. “Perhaps you could use my name when we are alone, as now, and my title when others are present?”
“I am afraid you give me far too much credit! I should not be able to carry it off, my lord,” she said. “I would be standing next to one of the patronesses of the hallowed halls of Almack’s and say, quite without thinking, ‘Jared, pray tell me how your dear grandmother is.’” She smiled wickedly as he burst out laughing. “There would not be enough smelling salts in all of England to revive the matrons!”
“Minx,” he said, in a mischievous tone. “Very well, I shall forgo your downfall in Society, for now. But I beg a compromise. May we not agree on Devlin? Your address of me in public, as in private, will prevent the censure of the great ladies of Almack’s.”
“That seems fair, my lord … urn, Devlin. In return, you must know that the ones closest to me do not call me Nicole. My friends call me Nick or Nicky. Should it please you, feel free to address me as such.” She laughed a bit as she continued, “Indeed, you quite remind me of my father when you refer to me as Nicole. He is the only one who ever did so.”
“Do not fly up into the boughs with me. Despite your strict sense of propriety, you will not deter me from calling you Nicole. You see, I believe I can safely use your Christian name in private yet appear quite formal in public. And I defy anyone to call such a beautiful woman Nick!”
He lowered his voice to a thoughtful timbre. “If it would not offend the memory you have of your father, I would greatly cherish the honor of calling you Nicole.”
She underwent another mood change, but it did not appear to be a dark one as before. He leaned closer to hear her softly spoken words and quickly had the thought that he liked the physical closeness communicating with her required.
“My lord … I mean Devlin, if you are sincere in your wish, you may certainly call me Nicole.” With downcast eyes she continued, “Indeed, I think my father would have liked you very much, and would be glad to know that someone carries on the tradition. And thank you for the wonderful compliment.”
He thought she was trying to cover embarrassment by teasing him. “Had you ever seen me at home riding astride Solomon, you would have no trouble addressing me as Nick!”
He determined to keep her thoughts buoyed. “If that was a wonderful compliment, I believe you have been hanging around some very dull dogs. It appears I will not have to pull out all of the stops to impress you. And I think I should give a king’s ransom to see you riding astride!” Her smile satisfied him.
He teased as well, but he was acutely aware of times she faced an inner struggle and would gently nudge her back to the present with a common question or remark.
“Very well,” she laughed. “You must forgive my wandering mind. There is so much to enjoy that I hate to spoil it. I would much prefer to hear about the places you have traveled or people you have met.” Nicole paused, chewing on her lower lip. “To own the truth, I should even like to know about your clubs and … Tattersalls! Why do they think a woman should not purchase her own horses?” She seemed to shake herself mentally. “In any event, as those places are closed to women, I have no way to picture them.”
Devlin laughed wholeheartedly. He thought she might be expecting a set-down and was pleased to see the smile on her face.
“I hope, Nicole, we shall have many more such outings and I promise to tell you all of the secrets of a man’s world in London. Today, however, we are talking of you.”
She was embarrassed at first, but she did as he asked. “I am three and twenty years old, so you can see that I am quite on the shelf! I grew up on our estate in Cheltenham. Beaufort Hall is such a beautiful place, and my father was only really happy when he was there. The only time he went to Town was to do his duty as a Member of Parliament.”
Nicole averted her eyes, a habit he noticed she frequently employed. “He believed the love of God, sincerity and loyalty, friendship, caring for others, and honesty to be the Golden Rule of one’s life and not the exception.” She stopped for a moment, and then added, “I only wish it were possible for us to live up to those standards.” She reddened and finished, “I am afraid I often fall short.”
Devlin felt the need to reassure her. “I know some of the world do not concern themselves overmuch with honesty and loyalty. However, we cannot assume the guilt of others. You and I have already decided upon candidness, have we not?”
Nicole’s brows furrowed for an instant, but it was gone so quickly he was not entirely sure it was ever there.
“If only we could live with complete honesty, what a better world it would be.” She gave a pregnant pause, and then continued, he thought, in a sardonic way. “We would have to tell poor Lady Swathmore her turbans were monstrous and Sir Richard that his famous waistcoats were abominable.”
He chuckled at the picture she presented, though her words did not convey what she had actually been thinking. He wondered at the kind of problems this lovely woman faced that sometimes seemed to take her somewhere else, while all the time remaining in his presence.
“What else would you like to know, my lord?”
“When you spoke of your father, a distant memory came to me about your parents. I believe your mother is the daughter of a viscount, is she not? And she was his only child, I think?”
“Yes, she was. Her father had been somewhat displeased not to have a male heir, but he did not disdain the distant cousin who would inherit the title. As several of my grandfather’s estates were not entailed, he specifically willed property and a generous dowry to Mama. But when she married Papa, she gave up the glitter of Town life to live with him at Beaufort Hall.”
“But your father, he was one of … seven, if I remember correctly.”
“You are correct. Father knew he would inherit the title, but he often lamented being the oldest. Had he not been, I believe he would have been a member of the clergy. He was interested in education and spiritual matters from an early age.”
Nicole sighed in frustration. “Are you sure you wish me to go on with this?” she queried.
“By all means, I assure you I am riveted.” “My mother’s parents were not happy with the match. They did not like that she was ‘buried’ in the country away from all her friends and the diversity of Society. But Mama had been spoiled from birth, so she could not be gainsaid. She immersed herself with father’s people and, for the most part, has always been quite content there.”
She let out a breath, happy that he had his information. However, he was not quite finished.
“I assume their happiness increased tenfold with the birth of their baby daughter?”
“Your sarcasm leaves little to be desired, my lord.” She pretended hurt feelings, but he saw the amusement in the appearance of one lone dimple.
“I was not being sarcastic, and I thought we agreed on Devlin.”
She hurried on before he could speak again. “My parents had a heart for children.” They had already planned a school for the little ones of the local gentry and the tenants who could spare them.
“My father was the most giving of men—of his time, his money, even just his ear—and I loved helping him tend the estate. It was a wonderful childhood. Unfortunately my mother’s parents were killed in a carriage accident soon after I was born.” She did not go to her dark place at these words. He wondered at it. But her eyes crinkled with her smile and she said, “Ten years later we were surprised by the birth of Chelsea.”
Devlin felt the old questions coming to the surface as they sometimes did when he was with his grandmother.
How could she believe a loving God would take her grandparents in a carriage accident so suddenly when they had only just begun to enjoy being a family? He wanted to ask her because somehow he thought she could explain it to him in a way his own grandmother could not. They were almost back in Berkeley Square, and somehow he knew it would be an intense conversation; perhaps it would be better saved for a later date.
She had already been speaking again during his thoughts. “… yes, you may groan at the word. I am quite the bluestocking!”
How very different she was from anyone he had ever met! All the more because she had no way of knowing that being well-read was not disparaging in his eyes. And despite her horrified whisper, he knew she really did not care whether she had horrified him or not. He could not come up with the proper rejoinder before she started again.
“But the Bible has always been my favorite book. I love the idea that man could, with God’s help, achieve the wisdom of Solomon. Indeed, that is how my horse got his name!”
He somehow felt her every nuance, that she felt pleased when he understood when she was serious and when she was teasing.
“There is not much more to tell, to be honest. The rest is a little hard for me to talk about. My father got sick when I was seventeen, and he never recovered. I treasure the last few weeks I had with him.” She kept talking, but he noticed the lone tear that ran down her cheek. “Of course Mama was devastated, and though Chelsea could not quite grasp what was happening, she knew her world was changing. It was one of the darkest periods of my life.”
Devlin was completely silent, allowing her time to get her composure. He also dimly locked away in the back of his mind her statement that it had been one of the worst events of her life. Confound it! Were there more? Had this “accident” been even harder for her? He suddenly thought he might never get to know the lovely young woman buried under the protective layers she had constructed. And it disturbed his peace of mind. He wanted to know it.
“We had to move to the dowager house, of course. It was not an easy time, but it has become the norm for us now. The new earl is not married, and enjoys Town life, so he is not much at home. He is happy to allow me and Mama to continue our attention to the estate and its tenants.” She gave a relieved smile. “May we now end this retrospective of my life once and for all?”
He laughed and hinted that, on the contrary, he had only just begun.
They had arrived back at the house, and he took her hand to help her down. They stepped into the foyer and divested their coats and hats to Geeves. “Stop, stop, I vow you are as tenacious as a hound during the hunt. I refuse to waste one more minute discussing such things.” Why did he feel there was so much she was not telling him?
“At dinner, sir, turnabout will be fair play. You shall have to tell me all about your life! My mundane existence can be of no possible further interest to you.”
But mundane would never be a word used to describe her life if he was any judge. He sensed a reserve in her; she skirted around areas he would have delved further into. He did not know why he was genuinely interested in knowing more, he only knew that he was!

Chapter Four
She was true to her word during dinner, and most of the conversation had centered on his life. He believed he had handled it adeptly. His conscience nudged him, reminding him of things he had purposely omitted, that he had not shown the integrity they had agreed upon. He tried to determine if omission equaled lying and he decidedly convinced himself it did not.
Lady Beaumont hurried them both upstairs to freshen up before dinner, and as he came back down, he paused, not knowing precisely the direction he should go. He heard a haunting melody coming from a room to his right and he took the liberty of going in. Lady Beaumont stood in front of the fire, warming her hands while Lady Nicole sat behind the pianoforte, her eyes closed, playing a piece he had never heard before. He watched her play with so much feeling. He was mesmerized!
“I hope I have not kept you waiting long.” He watched as Nicole rose from the piano bench, quite flushed, then he addressed her mother. “I have been listening to your daughter’s playing with much pleasure. She is quite accomplished.”
Lady Beaumont thanked him prettily and herded them to the informal dining room like a mother hen.
The “informal” dining room was charming, and Devlin knew without a doubt this must be Nicole’s favorite room. It was at the back of the house and the outside wall was constructed completely of French doors. He could see that lights had been set up along the veranda that glistened, as well, in the garden beyond the balcony. He deduced that the sun must flood this room with light and warmth in the mornings, and he thought his grandmother, too, would love it.
Nicole began to tease him almost immediately about his childhood and he believed the conversation went well, that he made his life sound perfectly normal. He told her about growing up at DeVale Priory, “a cavernous pile of bricks that my parents enjoyed boasting of.” He admitted to a sort of loneliness in being an only child, but he flattered himself that he made it sound quite mundane. He finished his story with the simple fact that his childhood had centered on riding lessons and tutors.
When Nicole asked about his parents, he related facts, though admittedly not in the greatest of detail. He candidly told her he had seen little of his parents when he was young. They were very powerful in London’s social throng, so they lived there much of the year.
He so much wanted to tell her more, and tried to determine if he would have, were they alone. He found himself feeling uncommonly comfortable with her, and he felt strange tendencies to talk about things he had never shared with anyone else. Truth to tell, knowing her gift for listening intently, he deduced that she was able to fill in many of the gaps on her own but she did not gush with sympathy. There was no doubt she felt it; she just knew how to contain it.
He smiled to himself as she said, “My lord, I should like to hear more about your grandmother. I do so hope she is feeling … better.”
The little minx! She still did not believe he possessed a grandmother, and she thought she was trapping him in front of her mother!
“Mama, may we remain a little longer? When we get to the drawing room, Chelsea will be there and all coherent conversation will certainly be impossible!” She said this with a smile to show there was no malice in the words. “I am eager to hear all about Lord Devlin’s grandmother. She sounds like such a dear.”
“I should not mind, Lady Beaumont, if you do not.” He barely stifled a laugh at her startled reaction. If he was willing to talk about her, Nicole must now know there was a grandmother! Still looking at her plate, she smiled and nodded, acknowledging defeat.
“A mind reader,” he said, clapping his hands slowly. “You have hit the nail on the head, my lady. She was always caring of me, and I got to spend much time with her when my parents were in Town. I will own she often tried to protect me from my parents and tutors when I … ahem, used bad judgment in my behavior.”
Her laughter conveyed her thoughts.
“You may tease all you like, my lady, but if you think that she always gives in to me, and does not give me a piece of her mind more often than not, no doubt you would be pleasantly surprised.”
Nicole laughed out loud at his absurdity.
“May I suggest, Lady Beaumont,” he said, “that we now go to the drawing room where I may meet your other, possibly more charming, daughter?”
Lady Beaumont became flustered with his teasing and could not tell whether to take him seriously or not. Devlin was almost overset when she gave a great sigh as she mumbled, “I am afraid, Lord Devlin, if you are truly hoping that Chelsea takes away any bad impression of the family, this evening is truly doomed.”
But despite Lady Beaumont’s predictions, the rest of the evening passed very pleasantly. Truth be told, more than pleasantly.
Nicole’s sister delighted him from the moment she was introduced to him. He thought how odd it was, considering he had little experience with thirteen-year-old girls. They enjoyed tea and dessert, and Nicole’s sister even convinced him to play a game of spillikins, which he had not played since he was a boy, and which he conveniently lost to her.
When Lady Beaumont had finally chided Chelsea that it was past her bedtime, Devlin decided to take his leave soon upon her heels. However, when he looked at Nicole, she was staring serenely into the fire. Her laughter and swift rejoinders convinced him she was aware of all that went on during the game, but he noticed that much of the time she was quiet and thoughtful. Instead of following his instincts, he acted upon a heretofore unknown desire to extend the evening.
Devlin addressed Lady Beaumont with a pleading air. “My dear ma’am, I know I should depart and allow you to seek your beds, but I wonder if I might ask your indulgence awhile longer. I could not help but notice your beautifully lit garden, and I hoped Lady Nicole would honor me with a brief view of it from your portico. We discovered the night we met on the Swathmore terrace that we shared an interest in things horticultural. I promise we will not actually venture onto the grounds. However, I should appreciate the opportunity to get a closer look than I had from the dining room.”
He knew his request was odd, and should Nicole’s mother be of a matchmaking bent, he could be jumping into the proverbial frying pan. But he believed Nicole’s intent never to marry, and he had actually invited her mother to join them to dash any hopes he might have raised.
“I am sure you do not need me along for a few moments of fresh air,” her mother had kindly answered. “Indeed, I should only be in your way.” He was caught unawares as she then finished, “Toby will be chaperon enough, to be sure.”
He had hoped his astonishment had not shown as she bid them both good-night and cautioned her daughter not to stay outside long enough to catch a chill.
He had learned from the afternoon not to let his confusion over the servant cause an outburst of anger, but he felt the need to defend himself anyway. In a polite but serious tone he stated, “I promise I do not intend to compromise you by my request, Nicole.” He had risen and gone to her chair to take her hand and place it upon his arm.
She shook her head and laughed as they wandered onto the terrace. “My lord, you must stop seeing Toby as a threat. I’ve tried to explain that Toby is a fixture in our lives and we often take his presence for granted. In fact, you have made me quite conscious of the fact that we do not appreciate him as we should.” Before he could respond, she laughed again. “Be assured my mother would never have allowed this without Toby’s presence.”
Devlin had to lean closer to hear her words, a habit he had come to enjoy in earnest. She led him to a bench at the end of the terrace. “Would you like to sit a moment?”
Devlin could not see the large servant, but he assumed her lowered voice meant that he was near and that she did not wish him to hear their conversation.
Nicole instantly began to talk of the garden now twinkling in front of them. Her love of it was very obvious to him, and his own interest was piqued by their mutual pursuit.
“It was Mr. Benson, our gardener, who thought of interspersing the plants with covered lanterns so it could be savored by day or night. He allows me the honor of the plants on the veranda, but the garden is his domain.” She sat quietly a moment. “I feel so close to God when I am out of doors. I am amazed that His creation is available to us just by sitting amidst a small garden.” He had waited for such an opening, when alone, to discuss this God she and his grandmother allowed to pervade their lives. Would now be the time?
Quite unexpectedly she said, “Devlin, close your eyes.” She leaned her head back against the rough brick while closing hers. He was so surprised he had not even time to enjoy her use of his name.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I am not a lunatic! Close your eyes and tell me what you smell.”
He felt a little foolish, but did as he was bid. “I suppose flowers would be too obvious?”
She giggled, then shushed him. “God has given us five wonderful senses. What a waste not to use them all. Try again.”
He sat with his eyes closed and wondered if she was a little more than he bargained for, when suddenly a specific scent overcame him. “I believe I smell roses. Are we near roses?”
“Yes, yes!” she exclaimed as if she were a teacher happy with her student’s progress. “The trellis next to us has climbing roses. They are my favorite.”
He felt exuberant, just because he had pleased her! He suddenly anticipated a continuation of this exercise.
“But they are the flowers that are closest to you,” she said. “You must try again, but now you must get past the roses. Try to determine some others.”
His pleasure quickly dissipated. It had proven harder than it seemed, and he had worried about disappointing her. His only hope was to turn the tables.
“What do you smell, Nicole?”
She took a long time to speak and he wondered if she had heard him. He opened his eyes to await her reply and decided he was content to simply watch her.
“I, too, smell the roses. But when I get past the roses I can smell grass, freshly scythed. And, of course, I smell the fishpond. When the passion flowers fall into the water, it changes their scent. It goes from a cloying sweet one to an amazingly pungent one. But flowers are only a part of it. I can smell the smoke from the chimney and the new hay from Mr. Loft’s stable. It makes me think of the country and wagon rides.”
She had grown quiet again, but seemed perfectly relaxed.
And he had been surprised. He had been able to smell those things, too, when she had pointed them out. He was sure he would never view his horticultural interest in the same way!
But Nicole began to speak again. “I can picture Mr. Keats in such a setting as this when he wrote,
‘And in the midst of this wide quietness/A rosy sanctuary will I dress/with the wreath’d trellis of a working brain/with buds, and bell, and stars without name …’”
Then she had told him, a little shyly, “I also smell you. I mean, your cologne. I am not familiar with it but I remember it from the night we met on the terrace. So it evokes memories of a lit cigar and the faint aroma of leather and horses.” She suddenly sat up straight but did not look at him.
“What are you about letting me … ramble on like this?” Her cheeks flamed and she knew he could see it in the well-lit garden. “I believe I may have to stay off moonlit terraces with you, my lord. I promise I am usually much more proper and much less fanciful.”
“You were not rambling, my dear, and I thought we agreed on Devlin. I do believe I shall never take a simple garden lightly again.” He paused a moment, then went on, “I admit I had an ulterior motive for wanting to share your terrace.”
This had lifted her face, and he noticed questioning apprehension in her posture. “It is nothing untoward or nefarious, Nicole.” He did take a more serious turn, however. “I know it is not my business, but you say you will never marry. I should like to know why.” He went on hurriedly, thinking that even as he asked it, he felt a niggling desire that it were not so. “I find it surprising that such a delightful, intelligent woman should disdain that illustrious institution.”
He sensed another of her inner battles raging and felt a little remorse that he had broken the pleasant mood. Once again, she surprised him.
“I do not suppose my reasons much different from your own. I am aware that is a great presumption on my part, as we have not yet discussed your reasons for avoiding it, but I suspect that both are based on the general premise that we should be better off unmarried.”
“That is very vague, Nicole. If you would rather not confide in me, you may certainly tell me to mind my own affairs.”
“I have no reluctance to discuss it. It is more that while you may understand my overall desire to escape the institution … as a man you may not comprehend additional personal reasons.”
“As a man I may not. As a friend I would certainly try.”
“That was very prettily said, sir.” She sighed and gave a resigned shrug to her shoulders. “I suppose I should most object to relinquishing my freedom. I believe one reason is a result of my upbringing. My father allowed me such free rein, and you already know how much I enjoy sharing the daily management of Beaufort Hall with Ben, our bailiff. I have yet to meet a man who would allow me that partnership.”
She was relaxed again, but her thoughts had turned inward. He did not wish to interrupt her contemplation. She finally said, “I thought once that I had, but it came to nothing.”
He was surprised that jealousy had been his first response; he knew instantly he had no right to be so. “You have had your heart broken and fear it happening again?”
She laughed softly. “Michael has no bearing on my decision. We were engaged for a brief time, but he found … We found we did not suit.” She took a short pause. “No, it is a matter of freedom, as I have said. I should be quite content, I think, to live out my days surrounded by family and friends. But it provides me independence as well.” She forthrightly asked him, “Does that shock you, my lord?”
It seemed a well-rehearsed answer to him. Perhaps, like him, she had deeper reasons that she did not wish to share. He wanted to ask more about her broken engagement, but she seemed reticent. Instead, he simply replied, “No, Nicole, that does not shock me. You are an intelligent woman and there is no reason you should have to hide it. However, I would assume that as a female you might regret the loss of having children. In fact, as a male I sometimes feel the loss. Of course I must provide an heir at some point, but I flatter myself that children would be a joy to me, even now.”
“It has been a very serious consideration, Devlin. To own the truth, it is the only cause of melancholy whenever I reflect on it. You understand what is due to your name, and you meet every eligible woman in Society. Eventually, it will happen for you and you will have that happiness.”
He was frustrated that the newness of their acquaintance denied him the liberty to investigate further, while actually feeling as if he had known her for years. He decided to try a different tack. “Suppose you fell in love with a man who would allow you the freedom you desire?”
“I can only say that the freedom you understand differs extremely from mine. But I can just as easily turn the question back on you. Would finding a woman who would not curb your independence change your mind? Would the hope of children to carry on your name override your aversion to marriage?”

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