Page 49 of When She Loved Me
“I don’t remember much about this house,” he said, between bites. “But then I don’t think we used it very often. At one time, my mother preferred the city.”
Dropping her hands, she thought of the message scratched into the nursery wall upstairs. He had indeed been here, but mayhap only a bored child, who had time to carve words into wood. What little she knew of his mother suggested theirs was not a warm and loving relationship.
Nicole had only ever lived in one house with her mother. Sadly, her memories were few and far between, seeming to fade more as the years went by. “I don’t remember my mother very well.”
“I might wish I suffered the same affliction,” he murmured, and then shook his head at such impolite words, though likely the sentiment remained. “You were very young when your mother passed,” he surmised.
“Seven or eight, maybe,” she answered, still grinning at his quip about his own mother, and the grin widened as a particular recollection came to mind. “When she died, grandmother came to us, of course. She was grief stricken, to have lost her daughter. We cried together for days. But I’ll never forget the most amazing thing that happened. If I’d not been there, mayhap I’d not believe it. But there we are, in the parlor, with mother laid out before us while so many persons came to pay their respects. Grandmother and I sat in nearby chairs, my father standing close to accept all the condolences and comforts.” She recalled as well that her father had balked at her presence, contending she wastoo young, but Nicole had pleaded with her grandmother to attend the laying out. As in almost all instances when her father came up against his mother-in-law, her grandmother had triumphed, which meant that Nicole had gotten her way. She giggled now, remembering so clearly the scene as it played out. “Lady Loudon, whom grandmother had never liked, arrived. She said pretty things to grandmother, but seemed off, too lively, as if it were not indeed a wake, but a ball she attended. Grandmother’s aloof manner sent her away soon enough, and truly, I think she understood she was not well received. So, she walked away from us, but somehow lost her slipper,” she told, and controlled her mirth just enough to finish the tale. “It was so remarkable, because she did not stop, but kept right on walking, leaving the shoe where it had fallen, right there in the middle of the room, the only thing separating us from mother’s body. Grandmother and I looked at each other, and God help us, we burst out laughing. And we couldn’t stop laughing. I suppose it was one of those instances when your emotions are so precarious, that you’re just so easily set off. Whatever the case, Lady Loudon was, ever after, known as The Barefoot Ninny, or The Shoeless Marchioness, between grandmother and me.” She stopped and her smiled lingered, even as she had no idea why she might have shared this bizarre story with him. Biting her lip, unsure how she felt now about revealing intimate stories with him, she stole a glance at him.
He was smiling, watching her with something more than simply interest in her tale, with some unidentifiable emotion, but which seemed deeper and greater than anything a man only in need of an heir should be displaying. His compelling eyescrinkled just perfectly at the corners with his grin, the blue so steady and entrancing while he watched her.
Nicole ducked her head, thinking again that she might say goodnight and be gone.
“But what became of the shoe?” he asked, which effectively forestalled her leave-taking.
With a shrug, she admitted, “I do not recall. Likely, a footman or such scooped it up from the carpet.”
“Do you know what the most remarkable thing about that is?”
Nicole shook her head, scooching back into the center of the stool, obviously not abandoning it just yet.
“That I once witnessed an uncannily similar happening. It was at a ball. I was on the sidelines, might have been my first year at such things. I was talking with my father, watching the dancers. And he and I both watched as George Goody did almost the very same thing. In the middle of the cotillion, lost his shoe, but kept right on stepping. First, Father and I imagined he did not disturb the progression of the dance and would fetch it after. But he never did, just left the thing to be tripped over and kicked around all evening.”
“Did he leave just after that set?”
“No!” Trevor said, raising his hands, as if flummoxed by the man’s choices. “He stayed all night, walking around like an idiot with only one shoe, making a show of walking on his toes, to keep his gait level with the other heeled shoe.”
Nicole giggled, “Do you supposed there might be more of those people? Dozens or hundreds or thousands who might have in their wardrobe only one shoe of a pair, having abandoned theother when they imagined it was sillier to bend down and scoop up the lost item, rather than walking away from it?”
He nodded and chuckled, the sound like heaven to her ears. “As if being the idiot who walks away on one shoe is so much less awkward!”
“I used to love people-watching at balls,” she admitted. “Just sitting and observing all the goings-on. You’d be amazed the things you learn about a person. I like to watch people’s faces as they interact, from a distance, and try to discern if they were pleased or not to be speaking to a certain person.”
“Eavesdropping with your eyes?”
“More or less,” she said. “Truly, often it was so much more interesting than what people were actually saying to me.”
“I’d never noticed that you were particularly unhappy at any social affairs,” he commented, putting the last bite of cake into his mouth.
She was quick to agree. “I was not.” She was now mostly thinking of all the ‘Trevor watching’ she’d done at the most recent events, more than a year gone now.
“Do you miss that? The social-ness? Being with friends?”
It was a delicate question, one she was surprised he asked, as it opened the door to the reason she was not now, a part of thetonor the happenings, of which the blame could entirely be put into his hands. But their mood was light now, reminding her so much of all the time they’d spent together, prior to the kiss, that had seen them in marvelously similar circumstances, at ease, and enjoying each other’s company. She missed that, to be sure, and so much more than any balls or soirees, but she was disinclined to bring this to his attention.
“Surprisingly, I do not,” she said with a shrug. “Surprising, I say, because I did enjoy being social, and all the glamour and spectacle of it.”
“But now you’ll have your own ball here,” he reminded her.
“I think I might enjoy the Harvest Ball so much more, this being so much less formal and stilted and not governed by ridiculous social rules, or at least less so, I would imagine.”
A flickering light pulled both their gazes to a far corridor, where the light danced and moved along the wall as it neared, obviously lighting a person’s way.
It was Franklin who showed himself, sans a dressing gown, wearing only his nightshirt and cap, complete with drooping tassel, holding the candle aloft. Nicole wouldn’t have said his face showed surprise at finding the lord and his lady enjoying a nighttime snack, but she definitely thought she recognized the barest hint of a grin at his discovery. “I was thinking those must be fairly large mice, to be making so much noise.”
Trevor and Nicole exchanged grins, with Trevor quick to say, “Apologies, my good man. We’re probably naught but badly behaved children to you just now, eh?” At Franklin’s lifted brow, noted even as he was bent so drastically, Trevor promised, “We’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum from here on out.”
With a slow nod, Franklin turned and retraced his steps, finding his bed once more.
