Page 25 of Snowed-in with Scandal
Nicholas stood at the front door of Lushington Hall, his hand poised to knock, steeling himself for what was perhaps the most important performance of his life. Every word he was about to speak would be a lie, every sentiment he expressed the opposite of what he felt. But if it would save Arabella, he would gladly damn himself in her eyes a thousand times over.
The truth James had revealed burned in his chest like a physical wound. Arabella had never betrayed him—she had been coerced, blackmailed, forced to choose between his happiness and her brother’s life. And like the noble, self-sacrificing woman he had always known her to be, she had chosen to save her brother and destroy herself.
He knocked firmly, and within moments, Algernon himself opened the door, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
“Mr Morley! How unexpected. I thought you had departed with the others.”
“I sent them on ahead,” Nicholas said, allowing a note of grim satisfaction to creep into his voice. “I found I couldn’t leave without... settling a matter that has been weighing on my mind.”
“Indeed? Please do come in.” Algernon’s eyes glittered with curiosity as he led Nicholas back to the drawing room. “What matter might that be?”
Nicholas accepted a brandy and took his time settling into his chair, as if choosing his words carefully. “The truth is, Lushington, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our conversation earlier. About Arabella’s... situation.”
“Ah.” Algernon’s smile was predatory. “And what conclusions have you reached?”
“That justice, true justice, has been far too long delayed.” Nicholas met Algernon’s gaze steadily. “Arabella Beecham ruined my life five years ago. She made me believe she loved me, made me trust her completely, then cast me aside the moment a wealthier prospect appeared. I was young, foolish, utterly besotted—and she used that against me without a thought for the devastation she left behind.”
“How... illuminating.” Algernon leaned forward eagerly. “I had suspected there was more to your history than mere disappointment.”
“Disappointment?” Nicholas laughed bitterly, the sound harsh enough to be entirely convincing. “She destroyed me. I fled to the continent for four years because I couldn’t bear to remain in the same country as the woman who had made such a fool of me. And even now, even knowing what she is, I find myself...” He trailed off, as if the admission was too painful to complete.
“Still affected by her,” Algernon finished with obvious relish. “How perfectly human of you.”
“Which is precisely why I couldn’t leave tonight without seeing this through.” Nicholas’s voice hardened with manufactured resolve. “You spoke of ensuring she faces consequences for her choices. I want to be part of that. I want tosee her realize that her... calculations have finally caught up with her.”
Algernon practically purred with satisfaction. “And what role do you envision yourself playing in this reckoning?”
“Whatever role you’ll permit me. You mentioned documents that would strip her of her independence. I want to witness her signing them. I want to see her face when she realizes she’s finally been outmaneuvered by someone cleverer than herself.” Nicholas took a sip of brandy, using the pause to steady himself for what he was about to say. “Call it petty revenge if you will, but I’ve carried this wound for five years. I think I’m entitled to see it finally healed.”
“Petty? My dear fellow, there’s nothing petty about seeking justice from those who’ve wronged us.” Algernon raised his glass in a mock toast. “In fact, your presence would be quite helpful. The documents require a gentleman witness, and who better than the man she so calculatingly discarded?”
“When do you plan to...conclude matters?”
“Tonight, I think. She’s already agreed to the arrangement—though she required some... persuasion to see reason.” Algernon’s smile was cold as winter. “Shall I summon her? I believe she’s in her chamber, no doubt composing herself for the ordeal ahead.”
Nicholas clenched his jaw at the casual cruelty in Algernon’s tone, but he forced himself to nod. “I should like that very much.”
Algernon rose and moved toward the bellpull, then paused with apparent sudden inspiration. “You know, Mr. Morley, I believe this evening is going to be even more satisfying than I had anticipated. There’s nothing quite like having an audience for one’s triumphs—particularly when that audience has such a... personal interest in seeing justice done.”
As Algernon summoned a servant to fetch Arabella, Nicholas felt his heart hammering against his ribs. In a few moments, he would see her again—and he would have to convince her that he was there to witness her humiliation, not prevent it. The performance would have to be flawless, because if Algernon suspected for even an instant that Nicholas was there to rescue rather than torment her...
The sound of footsteps, so close, suggested Arabella had already been waiting in the corridor, and Nicholas wondered with horror if she had overheard their conversation.
“I want to see her face when she realizes she’s finally been outmaneuvered by someone cleverer than herself.”
In trying to save her, he had delivered what might be the cruelest blow of all: confirmation that the man she had once loved had come not to rescue her, but to glory in her destruction.
But it was too late now. The door opened fully, and there she stood—pale as death, her eyes wide with shock and pain so profound it made Nicholas want to cry out in protest. Instead, he forced himself to remain seated, to meet her gaze with the cold satisfaction Algernon expected to see.
“Ah, Arabella,” Algernon said with silky pleasure. “Perfect timing. Mr. Morley was just expressing his desire to witness your... capitulation. It seems he has some rather strong feelings about seeing justice finally served.”
Arabella’s gaze remained fixed on Nicholas, and in her eyes he could see his own words echoing back at him. She believed every cruel syllable. She thought he had come to watch her fall.
And for now, for both their sakes, he had to let her believe it.
“Indeed I do,” he said quietly, the lie tasting like poison on his tongue. “Indeed I do.”
CHAPTER 18
