Page 19 of The Viscount's Forgery
Nicholas coughed and ran one hand over his eyes, finally severing the connection between them. “Thank you, Miss Sherwood, but I do not think that I have need of you in that way.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You are refusing my help?”
Utterly confused by what he felt – and a little disconcerted by it – Nicholas spoke bluntly and without truly thinking about what he was saying. “Yes, I am. I do not want your help, Miss Sherwood. I should never request the help of a bluestocking.”
The gasp that came not only from Miss Sherwood and also Lady Isobella was a slap to Nicholas’ face, bringing him backto himself in an instant. He realized what he had said, how poorly he had spoken and immediately dropped his head. “I did not mean to speak so,” he muttered, trying to take in a breath, trying to find the words to explain and to apologize but all he could hear was a buzzing in his ears. Turning quickly, he began to walk away, his steps quick and his heart pounding. Why had he spoken in such a way? It had been the most foolish thing to say, the most insulting thing he could have possibly imagined to have come out of his mouth, and Nicholas was utterly ashamed of himself.
I must stop.
Forcing his feet to stop marching forward, he let out a low groan and rubbed one hand over his eyes. This was not a situation that he could simply leave as it was, could he? It would not be right for him to walk away. He had to apologize, had to explain to her that he had not meant to be so insulting.
With an effort, he turned around and let his gaze search the crowd. He had thought that Miss Sherwood and Lady Isobella would be standing together, sending sharp, angry gazes towards him, but they were not there. With frustration driving his steps forward, Nicholas returned to the picnic and looked in desperation for the two ladies, the guilt in his heart beginning to cover over him completely.
And then, he saw them.
Miss Sherwood was standing under the branches of a large tree, with Lady Isobella beside her. Much to his horror, he saw tears glistening in her eyes, watching as she pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it against her cheeks. Lady Isobella was leaning closer to her, one arm around her shoulders as she said something into her ear.
Shame washed like a wave over Nicholas, his feet fixed to the ground beneath his feet. He could neither move forward nor step back, could not pull his gaze from her. He had not thoughtfor a moment that his words would affect her so, but then again, neither had he meant to speak such harsh words. When it came to bluestockings, he had no general feeling or thought, and yet, somehow, that vitriol had come out towards her.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, as if somehow, she could hear him as he dropped his head and pushed one hand through his hair. “I did not mean to pain you.”
“There you are! Are you coming to have some punch?”
Nicholas was pulled from his overwhelming guilt for only a moment, looking at Lord Bothwell and seeing him smile, a smile that grated against his sense of shame. “No, I cannot.”
“No?” Lord Bothwell’s smile faded. “My friend, is everything all right?”
With a shake of his head, Nicholas began to turn away. “No, it is not,” he answered, his voice catching. “But without a doubt, it is all my own fault.”
8
The tears in Eugenia’s eyes made it difficult for her to see clearly.
“I am astonished that he would think to speak to you in such a manner!” Lady Isobella said, one arm around Eugenia’s shoulders. “I have heard nothing but good things as regards Lord Suffolk’s character and never once has anyone mentioned his sharp way of speaking!”
Eugenia pressed her handkerchief to her cheeks, a little exasperated with herself for responding with such upset. She ought not to have let herself respond in such a way. She should have gathered herself and shown him that such ill words did not affect her in the least, but instead she had done quite the opposite. She had gasped aloud at his remark about her being a bluestocking and, when he had turned sharply, had done the very same, albeit in the opposite direction. The tears had come quickly thereafter, and she was struggling now to keep them back.
“You have every right to be upset,” Lady Isobella told her. “That was nothing more than insulting.”
“It was.” Eugenia took in a breath and then let it out slowly before drawing in another. Setting her shoulders, she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes again, relieved when no more tears fell from her eyes. Her gaze lifted and, much to her astonishment, she saw Lord Suffolk standing only a short distance away. He made no attempt to approach her but only stood, looking at her. To her surprise, his face appeared to be rather pale, with no determined look upon his face as she might have expected. Was he going to come closer to her? Would he say something more? If it was to be an insult, then Eugenia certainly did not want to hear it! As she watched, Lord Suffolk lowered his head and pushed one hand through his hair, only for Lord Bothwell to approach him. Lady Isobella was still saying something to her but Eugenia barely paid any attention, her gaze fixed on Lord Bothwell and Lord Suffolk. Lord Bothwell said something, but Lord Suffolk turned away, walking hastily away from his friend and, to Eugenia’s eyes, intending to leave the picnic entirely.
“He is gone,” she murmured aloud, as Lady Isobella lifted her gaze to look in the same direction. “Lord Suffolk. He was there again, looking over at us but now, he has departed.”
Lady Isobella snorted. “Mayhap he had another insult he wanted to throw in our direction,” she said, as Eugenia frowned. “I am, as I have said, truly astonished at his manner towards you. Indeed, I would never have suggested speaking with him and offering your aid had I known that he would respond so.”
“It is not your fault in any way,” Eugenia said, putting her handkerchief away. “I think… ” Considering, she tipped her head one way, watching Lord Bothwell as he gazed after his friend. “I think I shall go and speak with Lord Bothwell.”
Lady Isobella’s eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing, only taking Eugenia’s arm and falling into step with her. Her heart beating a little faster, Eugenia schooled herfeatures into an outward expression of calm, trying to smile as she approached Lord Bothwell.
“Good afternoon,” she said as he turned to face her, a look of confusion quickly melting away. “I hope you are enjoying the picnic thus far, Lord Bothwell. Is Lord Suffolk returning to join us?”
Lord Bothwell blinked, then looked away. “I – I could not say, Miss Sherwood,” he said, darting a glance back towards her. “He is a little upset, I fear.”
“Upset?”
The gentleman nodded slowly, looking back over his shoulder. “Yes, although he did not explain why. He said only that it was all his own fault and then walked away, so I am afraid I could not tell you with any certainty whether or not he will return. My suspicion is, he will not.”
With a look towards Lady Isobella, Eugenia spread out her hands. “It is not your fault, Lord Bothwell. Please, do come and enjoy the rest of the picnic. I am sure that there will be some present who are very eager indeed for your company.”
