Page 2 of Master of Paradise
"My hair... " Philip said lamely.
"You can use my shirt to dry your hair," Nicksaid, wiping away the last objection.God, doesn't the boy knowhow to deceive a woman yet?
Nicholas tried not to stare too openly at hisyoung brother as he slipped off his clothes, but what he sawstabbed him with a momentary pity.Lord God, how underdevelopedPhilip is. He's still riding a pony instead of being given astallion to control. There's nothing better for developing strongthigh muscles than a plunging, unruly piece of horseflesh betweenyour legs.
"I'll speak to Father about mounting youbetter, too. 'Tis ridiculous that you only have a pony." He noticedthe boy was growing, but only taller and thinner. He did not havean ounce of muscle upon his whole, pale body. He was handsomeenough, almost too pretty for a boy, almost angelic. Nick smiled tohimself as he saw their twin reflections in the water.The angeland the devil. We make unlikely brothers.
"Thanks Nicko. It's mother you know. Shewants to keep me a baby forever," he said with sullenresentment.
Nicholas's ready smile softened. "Lady Pamelais so gentle and quiet, you must try to understand the very realand natural fears a mother suffers. Don't be too resentful Philip;a mother's love isn't something to scoff at."
It was Philip's turn to feel a twinge of pityfor the brother who had never known a mother, yet try as he might,he could not summon pity for Nicholas. He was a true man, fullgrown, who exuded confidence and courage and seemed to need no one.He laughed at life and had no fear in him for any man. A truemeasure of his courage was that he wasn't afraid of their father,Lord Peacock, while Philip was rendered to a trembling mass ofjelly by the stern man, and often thought he might faint from fearwhile receiving the whiplash of his cutting tongue.
"If you swam to the island and back every dayit would develop your chest and arm muscles." God but the boy wasslight as a girl.I realize he's only sixteen, but even at thatage I was developed. I had my first sexual encounter atfourteen,he remembered wryly, recalling an arousing picture ofthe girl he had laid.
Philip set out for the island and Nickschooled himself to slow down and pace him. His brother's armsthrashed wildly in his effort to go the distance, and Nick realizedif he kept it up, he wasn't going to make it.
"If you slow down a bit, Phil, and takelonger strokes, you'll have more breath and the momentum will carryyou along. That's it," he encouraged, "a clean stroke uses lessenergy." He could tell that Philip had gained in confidence by thetime he swam back from the island. Nicholas splashed him playfully,then allowed himself to be ducked twice. They scrambled from thelake, laughing like young boys and Nicholas rubbed his brother'spale golden hair until it was completely dry, then pulled on thedamp shirt, and they started off for the Hall. Nick left Philip onthe driveway. "We won't go in together, then she won't be angry atyou for keeping such disreputable company."
"She never tells me to keep away from you,Nick."
The ready smile flashed. "That's becauseshe's too well-bred, but nevertheless we both know she doesn'tquite approve of me," he said, amused.
The family dined formally at seven eachevening. No matter what pursuits each member followed during theday, this was the one tradition they kept without exception. Thedining room was formal with a superb eight-foot Queen Anne diningtable with plate-glass top. The matching chairs with graceful legshad tapestry-covered seats depicting an abundance of fruits thatwere also carved into the arms and legs of the chairs and sidetables. The deeply polished mahogany pieces were set offbeautifully by a golden Aubusson carpet and a magnificentchandelier, from which hung long, crystal prisms.
Most usually they had dinner guests. PeacockHall was famed for its hospitality and the fair hostess whopresided at the Peacock table was unsurpassed in cool beauty, quietcharm, and flawless graciousness. As was her wont, she was therefirst to greet everyone, even though tonight they dinedenfamille.
Nicholas arrived close upon the heels of hisyoung brother. He would never offer his stepmother the discourtesyof being late. He bent his dark head and brushed a dutiful kissacross her brow and marveled for the thousandth time how such acool, elegant and quiet lady of breeding came to be the wife of hisfull-bloodied, powerful, rather vulgar father.
Lady Pamela murmured a soft greeting towelcome Nicholas at the table. She was always serene; her face setin a lovely, pleasing, half-smile, that displayed no emotionwhatever.
Lord Harry strode in now, late as usual.Philip shrank into himself slightly, but his father's eyes passedover him, unseeing, as he briskly made his way to the head of thetable. He was shorter and thicker than his attractive son,Nicholas, and his temper was much quicker, always ready therebeneath the surface to erupt at a moment's provocation. He was ahandsome man, or had been in his younger salad days, before apassion for claret and port had turned his complexion florid. Hekissed Lady Pamela's cheek absently, murmuring, "M'dear," andturned his attention to the light of his life, Nicholas.
"By God, I knew you'd get it done while I wasaway. Superb job, Nick. Couldn't have done it better m'self!" Hiseyes took in Nicholas's flawless formal evening clothes withappreciation. "Glad you didn't forget we're playing cards at Knoletonight," he boomed.
Nick looked him straight in the eye."Actually, I did. I planned to go up to London tonight."
Harry banged his beefy fist on the table,making Philip jump and his wife press her lips together slightly."Damn it all, no! Make an exception for your poor old man, Nick.I'll tell you why. Lord Sackville has Prince Edward staying withhim and you know what an unholy passion he has for Baccarat. I'dlike to whip him clean, stap me if I wouldn't. But I don't stand achance in Hell of doing it. Sorry for the language m'dear. But youcould beat him hollow, Nick. It would give me damned near as muchsatisfaction if you did it!"
Nick's eyes, an odd shade of aqua betweenblue and green, which his father insisted were Peacock blue,watched his father's enthusiasm closely. "Well, I prefer Faro orVingt et un, but go on, if you were counting on me, I'll come."
"Good lad. Let the lass in London wait,she'll be panting after ye harder than ever."
At Nick's slight warning frown, Harrybethought himself and again said, "Oh yes quite, forgive myindelicate reference to thedemi-monde. Ye should be used tomy slips by now, Pamela."
All the while the two men were discussingtheir affairs, Lady Pamela directed the footmen to serve byimperceptible signals. She had trained them well in their duties,so that the meal proceeded smoothly from the soup course, throughthe fish, and on through the main, so unobtrusive were theirmovements.
"Harry," Lady Pamela's lovely modulated voicesaid low, "the peacocks were in my herb garden again."
"Damned place holds a fascination for them."He laughed heartily at the mischief they caused, then he advised,"Get one of the gardeners' children to stand guard and shoo themout. 'Tis a simple enough matter, surely."
She sighed. She realized it was hopeless toexpect him to get rid of the noisy, destructive peacocks, as theyhad become symbolic of the place and of Lord Harry's own pride. Shegave Philip the look that meant he was to make interesting dinnerconversation with his father, then lowered her eyes demurely.Nicholas noticed her profile and the golden hair folded into itsgraceful chignon and the only word that he could think of todescribe her wasperfection.
Philip searched his mind desperately, thenpicked up on the fact that his father would be seeing PrinceEdward.
"The Prince of Wales's brother is at Etonwith me this year."
Harry snorted. "The sheer numbers of theRoyal progeny never cease to amaze me. How do ye keep 'em allstraight?" he quipped.
