Chapter 2
Two
“How do you know Lord Cecil Claxton?” Retford demanded as he stormed into her sitting room without invitation nor waiting to be announced.
“I made his acquaintance in Jersey last year,” Nicoll answered.
“Why did he kiss your hand but not speak with you?”
“I do not pretend to know what Lord Cecil was thinking. I encountered him only twice and our conversations were limited.” She didn’t dare let her cousin know exactly what was discussed, nor where the discussion took place, and she certainly would not mention the kiss.
“Are you aware that his father is a duke?” he demanded.
“Yes, and he is a barrister.”
“I understand that you carry a certain ignorance from being raised on a Caribbean island then living in Jersey, but in England, and most especially London, one of Lord Cecil’s rank is of importance.”
Nicoll was about to argue that she was aware of how aristocracy worked, but Retford would ignore her because he carried preconceived notions that could not be changed. One of those being she was ignorant because she was born a female.
“You will encourage his acquaintance,” Retford ordered.
“I will do no such thing.”
“Yes, you will, if you know what is best for you and your sisters.”
How dare Retford threaten them! “He is a known rake and I will not have my reputation sullied.”
“Why should that matter? At your age nobody is going to believe that Lord Cecil would want to seduce you.” He chuckled. “Encourage a friendship so that I have the opportunity to become acquainted as well.”
“Can you not simply introduce yourself and leave me be?”
“I do not run in his circles,” Retford admitted quietly. “But, once I do, my circumstances will improve.”
“Improve how?” He was a marquess and they had attended the ball given by a duke and duchess the night before. The only way circumstances could improve was with an invitation to court.
“Investments. Clubs. Respect.”
Ah, her cousin did not have the respect of his peers and he wanted her to attain that for him.
“When we are at the ball this evening, you will encourage a friendship with Lord Cecil.”
“Are you so certain he will be there?” Nicoll asked.
“Yes. Now do as you are told.”
He had then left, leaving Nicoll stewing and irritated by not only his orders but threats against her sisters.
Oh, she would do as her cousin demanded, except perhaps not in the manner he expected.
With a smile, she rose to prepare for the ball.
The moment Cecil stepped into the ball being held by his sister, Violet, and her husband, Viscount Ferrard, he immediately looked for Miss Nicoll.
He had shocked himself the night before and as much as he knew that he should stay away from the tempting miss, he knew that he could not.
The memory of what they had shared during their two meetings in Jersey stayed with him all evening and he ended up returning home and retiring alone, which had not been his intention when the evening had begun.
There was just something about Miss Nicoll that Cecil craved. It was not only her lips or more carnal desires, but also a conversation that he hoped would surprise him as she had in Jersey.
But after walking through every room and even looking in the shadows, he could not find her anywhere and returned to his sister.
“Did you invite the Driscoll family?” he asked.
“Yes. I am certain they will arrive shortly.” Violet forced a smile. He knew his sister hated having people around, as did her husband, but they had been coerced into having a ball because Ferrard’s two younger sisters had not married and their mother despaired about it ever happening.
“Try to enjoy the evening,” he whispered then stepped away just as Nicoll walked into the ballroom accompanied by Retford and followed by her four sisters.
Now, he just needed to wait until she was alone, as she had been last night, then approach. After all, there was no reason why he could not have a conversation with a miss without someone gossiping about it.
As sets formed for another country dance, he hoped that her sisters would be asked, but only two were and the others remained with Miss Nicoll.
Cecil stifled the disappointment and waited. The evening was yet young and there would be another opportunity, of that, he was certain.
Except, it never came. When he did speak with her, he didn’t want anyone else to be around because Cecil wanted to be free with his words, not suffer through polite and innocent topics. He could do that with any female in the room. He wanted more when he was with Nicoll.
For a moment he considered asking her to dance, or to take a turn about the room, or stroll in the gardens, but the gossips would take note.
Maybe he should just call on her. It would be easier. Except, that might cause gossip as well.
Bloody hell!
He should just leave. The supper dance was soon to begin, the evening had grown late, therefore, unless he approached her, there was no reason for him to remain. But just as he decided to leave, Miss Nicoll crossed the room, leaving her sisters behind, and stopped before him.
The corner of his mouth tipped, now glad that he had waited.
“May I have this dance?”
“Yes,” he answered and strangely found that he was not surprised, but humored. After all, she had been the one to ask for a kiss so why shouldn’t she ask him to dance?
“Thank you,” she whispered as they joined the others on the dancefloor.
“You are most welcome,” Cecil returned as he drew her into his arms.
“I needed to speak with you, and this is the best way not to be overheard.”
Ah, they were of the same mind.
“Do you have secrets to impart?” He turned at the end of the room, pressing her a little closer with his hand at her back, but not so much that others may think them improper. “I can assure you that I am as good at keeping them as you are.”
“I have been ordered to encourage a friendship with you.”
“Ordered?” Was she not interested in a friendship for herself?
That was rather disheartening.
“Yes, by my cousin, Marquess Retford.”
Cecil tried not to sneer at the name.
“Why?”
“Something to do with wanting to be in the same circles as you and he believes he can gain that through me.”
Cecil leaned in. “Your cousin is a pompous, sniffling arse, and if he were a prince, he would not be invited in my circles.”
“I do not care for him myself either,” she answered not at all phased by his insult to her cousin.
“Then why do this for him?”
“He ordered it, and he threatened.” Her statement was so matter-of-fact that Cecil nearly stopped dancing. Then he realized that it was Retford, and not her father who was demanding.
“What of your father?” he asked quietly, already anticipating her answer.
“Father passed away nearly seven months ago and Retford believes he has the power to make me do his bidding.”
“I am truly sorry for your loss, Nicoll.”
She blinked up at him, rather surprised. He did not believe it was his condolences, but because he addressed her as Nicoll.
“My concern is for my younger sisters, thus this waltz.”
Cecil had hoped that she had wanted to dance, but she was only doing so to placate her cousin, which was rather disappointing.
As with the unforgettable kiss they had shared, when the dance concluded, Miss Nicoll stepped back, curtseyed, then turned and walked away before she gathered her sisters and left the ball.
Cecil watched her go with the only thought being that he would like nothing more than to kiss her again.