Page 15 of When She Loved Me
Chapter Five
BREAKSPEAR WAS THEdower house on the great country estate, Audley End, at Saffron Walden, in Essex. Audley End belonged to the present Earl of Audley, that man being the uncle of Nicole herself, her mother’s brother. She was no stranger to Audley End and certainly not to Breakspear, spending weeks in the winter there with her grandmother, Evelyn Audley, traveling down the London Road, usually with great anticipation, for she loved her grandmother infinitely.
But this coming was different. This was not so much a visit—though she’d insisted to her father that indeed it was, that she’d been missing the dowager countess more than usual, which had garnered his acceptance of her plans—but rather, more an escape. She’d sent word along that she would be coming and had received an evidently cheery reply that this was happy news for certain.
Nicole watched idly out the coach window as Audley End came into view. Truly, it was likely one of the most superb houses in Essex, the façade of it, seen across the magnificent parkland that surrounded it, a grand castle with a delightful woodland grove and Palladian bridge designed by Robert Adam himself. The Kent coach skirted the long and narrow drive, taking the north path away from the house, and along Place Pond, which remained from the time monks inhabited Audley End hundreds of years ago. Nicole would likely see little of Audley End on this visit, as her uncle and aunt and cousins no doubt were ensconced in London for the season.
She turned her attention ahead then, waiting for that glimpse of Breakspear, much preferring that comparatively small house to the grandeur of Audley End.
When the dower house, which at one time hundreds of years ago had sheltered the Battery Sergeant Majors garrisoned at the castle, came into view, Nicole visibly relaxed. All would be well, she supposed, determined to enjoy her time with Grandmother, and determined, more so, to think of Trevor Wentworth not at all.
Before the coach had even rested in front of the door, her wiry little grandmother was coming out of the house, her arms raised to receive her granddaughter, though she had yet to exit the vehicle.
Happier now, Nicole threw open the door and ran to her grandmother, the warmth and welcome of her reception inspiring a fresh burst of tears.
“Oh, dear,” cooed Evelyn Audley, wrapping up her grandchild in her thin embrace, “Whatever have we here?”
Nicole sniffled and tried to regain her composure, though there was inside her a want to tell her grandmother everything, hoping she might make this pain disappear altogether. “Tis nothing, grandmother,” she assured her while the coachman saw to her portmanteau and baggage. She was led directly into the house, the door being held by her grandmother’s ancient man, Mr. Timmons, he being the only other domestic aside from her ladies’ maid and cook. In reality, and by her own choice—her son, the earl, was ever vexed by her choices—Evelyn Audley lived in nothing greater than genteel poverty.
“Unless I miss my guess,” Evelyn Audley was saying as she steered Nicole to the very informal parlor, “these tears—and thisunprecedented springtime visit—have something to do with a man.” She raised a graying brow at Nicole.
Gracelessly, Nicole flopped onto an overstuffed settee, pulling out plump and tasseled pillows from behind her back. She stared at the older woman, measuring her grandmother’s frown of concern, while she debated how much to actually tell her. It was very apparent to any interested party that Evelyn Audley had been, in her day, a very striking woman. Her hair was now gray, parted down the center and twisted simply at the back of her neck, but there remained evidence of the once vibrant auburn that it had been, at her temples and again at her nape. Her eyes were merry, the same shade of green as Nicole’s, though shrunken and softened now with age, her nose beneath a little button of a piece above lips that were thinned now but had been at one time rounded and pleasing, and always and still smiling.
“Come, dear,” Evelyn Audley coaxed, taking the place next to Nicole and patting her hand encouragingly. “Tell grandmother what has you so dreary. What is his name?”
Nicole laughed at this assumption, correct though it be. Without further ado, she announced, “His name is Trevor Wentworth.” And there went all her grand plans to think of him not at all. Perhaps though, she hoped, she might confess all and purge him then from her mind.
Her grandmother frowned, trying to put the name to something in her memory. “Wentworth? Dear Lord, child, would that be the man currently belonging to that sister of yours?”
That sister of yourswas ever how Evelyn Audley referred to Sabrina, never disguising her dislike of the girl who was not her granddaughter. Nicole disregarded this, as she knew from experience that she was unlikely to change her opinion of Sabrinaafter all these years. “Yes, grandmother,” she confessed miserably. “I—I think I might be in love with him.”
“Dear heavens, I’d be crying then as well if that is the case,” she replied, causing Nicole to almost laugh. “Dare I ask, does this young man know of these feelings of yours?”
Nicole shrugged, not sure how to respond to that. Did Trevor have any idea how much she yearned for him, or how deep her emotion went? “He started it,” she finally responded, though thought it childish once the words were out.
Her grandmother considered this quite amusing and tittered away, covering her mouth with her hand to stave off a greater amusement. “He did, did he? How very unchivalrous, indeed? I must ask, how exactly—what—did he start?”
Ignoring her grandmother’s ill-placed delight in her predicament, Nicole told her, “Well, he kissed me.” As an afterthought, she added, “More than once.”
“Why, the bounder!” Evelyn exclaimed, her smiled eradicated completely by this news. “How dare he attempt to—“
Before she further castigated his character—which Nicole believed honorable despite everything—Nicole clarified, “He never attempted anything greater than kissing, Grandmother. And to his credit, he seemed as shocked by the happenstance as I, and then I do believe hetriednot to repeat the instance.”
This quieted Evelyn Audley, that she sat next to Nicole with a thoughtful and contemplative expression on her face, her lips pursed a bit in her silent conjecture. “Perhaps I begin to see,” she murmured after a moment.
“Do you?” Nicole asked hopefully.
Evelyn Audley nodded slowly. “Well, naturally, engaged to one such as Sabrina, then having met you, he thought he’d madea bad bargain indeed. The poor boy! Already, I think him of a piercing and intelligent regard, having known right off that you are for certain the better sister.”
“Grandmother!” Nicole chided, but without sufficient gravity.
“When is the wedding, dear?”
Sorrowfully, Nicole told her, “In seven weeks.”
Evelyn Audley patted her granddaughter’s knee affectionately. “Then we have six weeks to get you over him. I presume your father is adamant that Sabrina marry this fellow? I’d heard something from up at Audley End that your man needed to marry money and marry money fast.”
Nicole knew not the particulars of this, but the gist, she supposed was true. She nodded miserably, knowing her own dowry to be much less significant than that of Sabrina’s. And apparently not enough for Trevor to even consider.
