Page 7 of Master of Paradise
"You cannot do this," Nicholas said firmly."I shall await my father's solicitor, Mr. Chetwynd, and we shallhear what he has to say."
Lady Pamela moved toward the drawing roomdoor and called softly, "Peter."
The solicitor came into the room and stoodbehind her, but he had his hand firmly upon her waist in a gestureof ownership. "Mr. Chetwynd is already here."
"I see," said Nicholas, and he really did seeclearly for the first time in years. "I suppose the young maid whoacted as witness has already been sent packing?"
She smiled at his grasp of the situation.
Nicholas gave her a mocking bow, and as hiseyes swept her from head to foot they almost seared her skin. "Ishall be off the place within the hour. You fancy you have won thegame, madam, but I feel sporting enough to warn you that you haveonly won the first hand."
Nick threw some personal belongings into aportmanteau along with some clean shirts and underclothes. Herapidly assessed his situation. He had about 750 guineas from hiswinnings, plus the clothes he stood up in. He was twenty-one yearsold and he had his whole life ahead of him. He'd go to London. Onechapter of his life was closed, even though part of his heart wouldgo to the grave with his father and remain at Peacock Hallforever.
He left by the kitchen entrance to avoidfurther contamination. The rain was falling in steady, cold sheets,so he kept close to the building until he rounded the west wing,then pulling his cloak more closely about him, cut across to thestables. This brought to mind his father's words about Higgins, sohe skirted the building and sought out the old man's cottage. Hehad to knock three times before he heard someone stir within andcome to open the door. An old man who looked to be about ninetyleaned on a walking stick and peered out at him.
"May I come in?" Nick asked, shaking the rainfrom his cloak.
The old man looked at him blankly and said,"Wipe yer feet."
Nicholas did as he was bidden and when theold man didn't offer him a chair, he hid an amused smile at thelack of hospitality. "I'm sorry to bring bad news, but his lordshipdied yesterday." A silence stretched out. He wondered if the oldgaffer was stone deaf, but after a moment he replied.
"Never liked 'im anyway."
Nicholas was startled. Perhaps he had thewrong man after all. "Is your name Higgins?"
"Who wants to know?" the old fellowchallenged.
The irony wasn't lost on Nick. He smiled andbit his lip. "Look here, my father wanted you to have some money,but you're making it bloody difficult for me."
Without further ado the old man held out hishand.
Nicholas took out his wallet and counted twohundred pounds into the old codger's hand. Then on a generousimpulse he added another fifty. The silence stretched out againuntil Nick bade him goodbye and donned his cloak against thedownpour.
As he closed the cottage door, a corner ofhis mouth lifted in amusement. "Well, Harry, I did what you asked,but got neither thanks nor bugger you!"
Inside the stables, he walked down past thefamiliar row of stalls and lifted a horse blanket from the wall. Hesaddled up a fresh mount, taking care not to pick one of hisfavorite horses in case he decided to sell it, later.
Philip, who had been hiding in a stall, creptout, his face a study in misery. "Nicko, I'm sorry. I tried to tellyou my mother was a bitch, but you would never hear a wrong wordabout her."
"Ironic, isn't it?"
"You can't go empty-handed, Nicko. I want youto have these." He held out two ornamental peacocks of Orientaldesign. They were solid gold.
Nick stiffened, offended to be offered hisfather's treasures.
"If you don't take them, it will be likespitting in my face," Philip said passionately.
"In that case, I shall take them. You chose amost apt symbol, Philip." He hugged the boy to him. "I shall leaveTess in your loving care," he said lightly.
"What would she want with me?" Philipscoffed.
"Believe me," he assured him with a wink,"she'll be delighted to belong to young Lord Peacock."
He turned up the collar of his cloak andurged the animal out into the downpour. The low-hanging clouds madhim realize the weather had set in for the day, and already theafternoon light was deserting. Nicholas lifted his dark head togaze one last time upon the home he had always loved. The carvedgranite faces that adorned the main portals were awash withrivulets of water, making even the gargoyles appear to be weepingat his dismissal.
Chapter Two
In London, Nicholas found lodging at an innin an unfashionable part of the city. He could have stayed with anyof a dozen friends or even at his father's club, but deep downinside he knew that anytime anyone gave you freeanything, apiece of your pride was eaten away. Though his plans were vague andunformed, he was sure of one thing: From now on he would have tostand on his own feet.
