Page 49 of The Duke of Ice
Nick couldn’t hold on to his frustration any longer, not entirely. “Goddammit, this isn’t about me.”
“No, it isn’t.” Simon glanced back at Nick. “But forgive me if I can’t take advice from someone who does nothing to improve his lot.”
“There is nothing to be done.” Nick grappled with his control and held on to it with the barest thread. “I am cursed. There is no hope for me.”
“And that is where you and I diverge. I still have hope. God help me, even after today’s debacle, I still have hope. If I didn’t, I may as well give up. I honestly don’t know what keeps you going.”
Stunned into silence, Nick stared at him. Whatdidkeep him going? He woke up every day and did what he must—he managed his estate, he conducted his ducal duties, he took pleasure in riding, fishing…Hell.Hewaslonely. And it had taken this infernal house party to wake him to that fact.
He looked down at the ground briefly, then nodded. “I get your point. Finally.”
Simon snorted. “Well, that’s something. I hope this means you’ll make things right with Violet.”
A wave of apprehension swept over him. He wasn’t sure that was the right course. Realizing he was maybe ready to make a change, to try again to allow something into his life, didn’t mean that something was Violet. He associated her with the start of his misfortune. He’d often wondered if his behavior wasn’t to blame. He’d carried on a liaison with a young woman out of wedlock, never mind that he’d had every intention of marrying her…
“I don’t know.” That was all he could say right now. “I’d rather focus on you. I’ll make sure everyone knows Violetfell.”
“It doesn’t matter. Society’s court long ago passed judgment on me, and I was a fool to think I could expect otherwise. So I live on the fringe.” He shrugged, appearing as if he didn’t care, but Nick knew better. “I’ve managed it for some time now.”
“It won’t always be like this,” Nick said. “Lady Nixon and her ilk will forget. Or die.”
“I don’t know about the former, but the latter is a certainty. For all of us.” He put his hat back on. “I’m going back to the house, and then I’m leaving.”
“You can’t.”
Simon arched his brow as he pulled his glove more snugly around his left hand. “Why not?”
“We have a deal.”
The wind buoyed Simon’s laugh. “The deal was that you would stay one night.”
“We were supposed to leave together for your box.”
“I’m not going there. You’re welcome to, of course.”
Nick narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going, then? It doesn’t matter. You should stay. Show those shrews that you aren’t rattled. If the tables were turned, you wouldn’t let me leave.”
Simon grunted. “I’m still leaving. You need to stay and explore things with Violet. Or not. But if you don’t, I promise that I’ll hound you about the mistake for the rest of your days.” He went to his horse and mounted.
“This may be the end of our friendship,” Nick called.
Simon stared at him a moment, then shook his head before turning and riding northwest.
Nick picked up a rock and skipped it into the stream, swearing. Without Simon, he truly had no one, and now that he’d realized his life was lacking, he couldn’t afford to lose the only friend he had. Did that mean he had to try to work things out with Violet?
He swore again. This wasn’t Simon’s bloody life. He didn’t understand the complexities surrounding their relationship—the broken promises, the guilt, the unresolved emotions. Wouldn’t it be better for Nick to just start over?
Miss Kingman was beautiful and charming, albeit reserved. And today in the cathedral, she’d demonstrated a sharp intelligence as they’d discussed the reformation and the Civil War. If he wanted to banish the emptiness in his life, he could do no better than someone like her. If she agreed to his terms—no expectation of love—he’d be in no danger of losing his heart. Or his mind with grief if tragedy struck, as he almost certainly expected it to.
And yet he couldn’t ignore the unresolved feelings he had for Violet, the burning desire that pulsed through him whenever she was near. Hell, whenever he eventhoughtabout her as he was doing now. He recalled that night so long ago when she’d feigned illness, then slipped out of her aunt and uncle’s house. Nick had been waiting for her outside, and together they’d gone to his uncle’s town house, but his uncle hadn’t been there. It had just been Nick and a handful of servants, and it had been easy to secret her upstairs to his chamber. By the light of the moon streaming through his window, they’d made love for the first time, and he’d basked in the joy of knowing they would be together for the rest of their lives.
He closed his eyes and saw her as she was then—her body soft and lush and so responsive to his touch. She’d cried out his name over and over and declared her love between soul-stirring kisses. He’d never imagined their plans would crash down around him less than a week later.
The familiar anger wasn’t as strong now as it had been, but seeing her had roused it again. What Simon didn’t understand was that Nick had to manage all these conflicting emotions where Violet was concerned. And he wasn’t sure he could.
He opened his eyes and went to the rock Simon had vacated. Dropping down, he stared out toward the Mendip Hills, mindless of the wind picking up or the clouds darkening overhead.
When the first raindrop struck his shoulder, he glanced up. Another drop splattered his cheek. He was about to get drenched.
