Page 6 of Master of Paradise
Nick dipped the quill in the inkpot, feelingslightly uncomfortable with the task his father urged upon him. Hiseyebrows rose at the generous amount his father named. "I herebybequeath to my natural son, Nicholas, one hundred thousandguineas." He fell back and closed his eyes for a minute.
"Father, this is taking too much out of you,dammit," Nicholas protested.
"We'll finish, then 'tis done!" Harryinsisted stubbornly. "I want you to have one of the artcollections... which Pamela?"
She thought for a moment, then her lovelybrow cleared, "Why not the Venice collection?"
Nicholas drew in his breath sharply at hergenerosity. "No, no, that's far too valuable. It contains theCanalletto and the Guardi."
Lady Pamela smiled. "We have so manycollections, Nicholas, your father and I insist!"
Harry waved his arms, telling him to write itdown and he did so, his heart filled with gratitude andsadness.
"Be better with two witnesses," his fathergasped.
"I'll get one of the servants," Pamela saidsoftly.
While she was gone, Harry instructed Nicholasto put down that he was to be sole executor and legally in chargeof the estate and Philip's inheritance until 1865, the year of hismajority.
Lady Pamela came back with a young maid."Don't be shy, Milly. Come up to the bed so that you can be awitness to Lord Peacock's signature on this paper."
When Harry saw Milly sign her name, he toldhis wife, "Put it away safe for Chetwynd."
"Yes dear, you can rely upon me implicitly.Now, I beseech you Harry, rest until the doctor arrives."
Nicholas hesitated. "Do you think I shouldsit with him, or would he rest better without me?"
She smiled and spoke softly, "Nicholas, mydear, do whatever you desire. I fear his time is short. I'm sure itwould give him comfort if you sat with him."
Her words were so soothing. She alwaysmanaged to say and do exactly the right things.
Nicholas sat with his father all night, andin the early hours Harry rose up from the bed in greatagitation.
"I'm here, Father. What is it?"
Lord Harry had no breath for sentences, buthe managed single words with long gasps between them. He grabbedhis son's hand most urgently. "Remember... Gardener... Higgins...money..."
"I'll remember,"Nicholas promised, though heknew not clearly what he promised. His father lapsed into laboredsleep and Nick sat quietly puzzling out the words.There is nogardener by the name of Higgins. Wait now, there is an old retiredservant living in a cottage behind the stables, but I neverremember him being a gardener.Nicholas always thought he hadbeen the head groom in days gone by. Anyway it seemed obvious hisfather wanted this Higgins to be remembered with some money. Thatwas easy enough to take care of.
When the end came, it was mercifully swift.The death rattle began, and Nicholas ran to fetch Pamela, and bythe time the doctor arrived, there was nothing left for him to dobut sign the death certificate.
Nicholas was momentarily stunned by grief. Heenfolded his stepmother in strong, comforting arms. The death hadbeen so quick and would be so permanent. Nick knew he had to bealone. He excused himself and headed for the stables. He saddled upand rode out through the deer park and into the Weald of Kent.
Winter's relentless bite was already in theair. He stopped at a magnificent copper beech tree and watched asthe relentless wind tore off the leaves and stripped it of itsglory. He felt the bleakness to his very core.
After an hour's ride,Nicholas felt he shouldreturn to the Hall. He wasn't the only one to grieve and he wouldbe needed at home.
Nicholas wheeled into the stable just as thefirst large drops of a downpour splattered his dark face. Hecarefully washed and changed his clothing before going to LadyPamela, but before he left his apartment, a servant came with asummons to attend her ladyship.
As Nicholas entered the drawing room, hethought Pamela had never looked lovelier than she did at this sadmoment. The black silk gown set off her delicate pallor and paleblonde chignon. As he looked at her with compassion, he noticed hereyes were no longer cool, they were cold, icy. She pinned him tothe spot with her frigid glance. He noticed her slim white handsheld the papers his father had dictated yesterday. As he watched,she held them out toward him and very deliberately tore them inhalf.
"I have been waiting for this moment foryears. My son is now Lord Peacock, and until he is of age, I am thepaymaster here. You are a bastard, in more ways than one, and youwill leave my home this day."
Nicholas was stunned. She, whom he hadthought of as saint, was in reality a bitch.
Though he did not know it, she was a bitch inheat and had been in that unbearable condition for some time. Ashis turquoise eyes traveled over her, they touched a quickness deepinside her, so that she was forced to avert her eyes from hisblatant masculinity.
No other man had set her limbs trembling,ever, nor brought that sticky wetness between her legs, whichNicholas could do with a word or a glance. The thought of hislovemaking made her mouth go dry, while her breasts ached for thecaress of that strong brown hand. Her loins hungered and clamoredfor his manhood to fill her with his heat. She seethed with hatredat the feelings he could so easily arouse in her. All herunrequited desires and fantasies were channeled into an icy core ofpure, crystal venom, because he had never once looked at her exceptwith the eyes of a stepson. She had not wanted to mother him; shehad wanted to mate him!
