Chapter 7
Seven
Nicoll had hoped that once she discussed the matter with Cecil that he would offer a solution and her mind would be at ease.
That had not been the case and she returned home to begin organizing her father’s papers, hoping to find something that she may have missed previously, such as a signed will, so that they would be ready when Cecil called on her the following day.
She next prepared for a musicale party, which she was in no mood to attend.
However, after entering the Ormonde drawing room and immediately coming face to face with her cousin, Nicoll wished she would have remained at home.
“A moment, Cousin Nicoll,” Retford greeted her as he took her arm. He did not ask, a demand in his touch.
“Do you truly think that you can avoid the inevitable?”
“Inevitable?” she questioned even though she already assumed what he meant.
He glanced at the other side of the drawing room and past the chairs that had been arranged in rows and faced a pianoforte where the performances would occur.
She followed his line of sight to find Cecil speaking with a gentleman that she did not recognize.
“I know that you visited Lord Cecil’s offices. Further, I am aware that you went unaccompanied, thus risking your reputation further.”
“Are you following me?” Nicoll demanded.
“Not I, but someone, and each infraction only adds to the list of reasons why it is urgent that your sisters have a guardian and be away from your influence.”
“Away from me?”
“I was clear in my petition. You have nothing, Nicoll. It is time that you seek employment. Margaret, who remains uninfluenced, may remain with her sisters.”
“A portion of the estate does belong to her,” Nicoll reminded her cousin. “Especially since she has reached her majority.”
“Majority, yes, but a female should not be trusted with the whole of funds inherited, thus I am certain the Lord Chancellor will agree with me that Margaret is not prepared to manage her own funds despite her age. However, I look forward to any argument or petition Lord Cecil might present on your behalf.”
She had wanted Cecil’s involvement to be a surprise.
Nicoll glanced over Retford’s shoulder to find Cecil nearing them, a deep frown upon his face.
She glared at him. “I am afraid that you will be disappointed. Lord Cecil has refused to assist me.” Her tone was loud only because Cecil needed to hear, and she prayed he understood what she was about or would at least not contradict her.
“Miss Nicoll,” Cecil greeted as he stopped beside Retford.
Instead of responding, she tilted her chin, nose in the air, turned and walked away to join her sisters.
Cecil knew that there must be a reason for Nicoll’s duplicity, but he would wait to ask. “Did she just give me the cut direct?”
“She did.” Retford chuckled. “Perhaps you should not have declined her request for representation against my claim.” Retford’s smile turned cold and calculating.
“My cousin has learned that there is no place she can go, nor visitor received, that I will not know about and each wrong step only strengthens my argument for full control.”
Cecil shrugged, giving the illusion that he did not care what Retford intended, then wandered over to his sister-in-law, who he had accompanied.
Of all the entertainments in London, he hated musicale’s the most and was only here because he had heard that Nicoll would be in attendance.
He also hardly glanced in Nicoll’s direction, yet he was aware every time she shifted in her seat, when she stifled a yawn, and when she left with her sisters following the entertainment.
He remained an hour longer, enjoying the refreshments and speaking with acquaintances.
Not that he wanted to do so, but he could not leave so soon after Nicoll, especially while Retford remained.
Once he did depart, Cecil took a hackney to Marylebone, where he exited onto Regent Street.
From there, he stuck to the shadows as he made his way to Nicoll’s home on Upper Berkeley Street and searched for anyone who might be following him, then for anyone who might be watching and noted one man beneath a tree, cheroot in his mouth and soon joined by another.
“Have you checked the back?” the new arrival asked.
“My orders are to note all arrivals, no matter the hour, and when she leaves, which I cannot do if I watch the back of the house,” he argued.
“If Retford was worried about someone coming and going through a back window, then he should have hired a second man.” He tossed his cheroot to the dirt and ground it out with the heal of his boot.
Cecil didn’t wait any longer, but slipped away, still keeping to the shadows and found the alley that ran behind the row of houses, then ducked down it until he came to the back of Nicoll’s home.