Chapter 3
Three
Nicole stood in front of her wardrobe with her hands on her hips and contemplated murder.
"The green one," her maid, Maggie, who'd not lost her strong Scottish brogue like Nicole had, suggested for the third time. "It brings oot yer eyes."
"The green one makes me look like a tree." Her arms sagged to her sides, and she let her head fall forward.
"The blue, then."
Nicole shook her head and mumbled, "Too formal."
"The yeellow—"
She flung her arms in the air and turned around and bemoaned, "No. No. No. Yellow makes me look jaundiced."
Maggie sighed and crossed her arms. "Miss Nicole, if ye dinnae pick somethin' in the next five minutes, ye'll be late. And Ah dinnae think Mr. Felix is a man who takes kindly to tardiness"
She swiveled back around and glared at her pastel-filled wardrobe.
Why had she let the dressmaker select such awful colors for her?
Every gown hanging before her had been crafted to ensure she’d never experience such humiliation as she had during her debut.
But none of them suited her. With no mama or close English matron to act as chaperone, she’d been presented to the Queen by her papa and had done her best to launch herself into society and failed spectacularly.
The gowns she had selected her debut season, that reflected her, only provided fodder for the gossip sheets and garnered heart-wrenching sneers from the so-called ladies of the ton behind their frivolous fans.
At every event she attended, she was reminded that she was too plain, too tall, and way too Scottish.
"What does one wear to drive in Hyde Park with a suitor?" Nicole muttered.
"Something that gives ye a bit o' spunk, ye ken?" Maggie replied as she reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a dress hidden in the back. Nicole had forgotten about her riding habit of deep burgundy with black trim. "This one."
Nicole blinked. "That's for riding, not driving."
"It’s fur lookin' like ye belong on er horse, which is near enough, ye ken?" Maggie held it up. "’Sides, there’s nothin’ else in here that dinnae make ye look like ye're tryin' to vanish in the woodwork."
Maggie had a point.
Twenty minutes later, Nicole descended the stairs in her rich, bold burgundy habit, her hair arranged in a simple but elegant knot at the back of her neck. Her father glanced up from the bottom of the foyer, and his face lit up. She hadn’t seen him this happy in a long while.
"Now that's my girl," he said approvingly. "You look like you're about to take on London, rather than hide."
She stepped down to stand next to her father and forced herself not to roll her eyes. "I'm not about to conquer anything, Father. I'm merely going for a drive."
"With Felix?” he asked and when she nodded, his gaze narrowed on her. “And you agreed to accompany him in public?" She nodded again, and to her utter surprise, her father grinned and said, "I'd say that qualifies as conquest."
Nicole opened her mouth to set matters straight, except the butler coughed loud enough to gain their attention before announcing Felix 's arrival.
Her stomach performed an impressive series of acrobatics, and she pressed her palms to her midsection.
Felix entered the foyer, and Nicole's breath caught. He wore a dark blue coat that emphasized his broad shoulders, buckskin breeches that left nothing to the imagination, and an expression of such open admiration that her cheeks instantly flooded with heat.
"Miss Nicole," he said, his voice warm. "You look magnificent."
"In this old riding habit?"
"It’s new to me, and you look perfect." He offered his arm. "Shall we?"
Nicole glanced at her father, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement. He nodded encouragingly. She placed her hand on Felix's arm, and they stepped out into the afternoon sunlight.
A gleaming curricle waited at the curb, pulled by a matched pair of chestnuts that looked far too spirited for Nicole's comfort. Felix assisted her up onto the seat with a steadying hand at her waist, and Nicole tried very hard not to notice how warm his palm felt through the fabric of her habit.
Felix climbed up beside her and took the reins with practiced ease. "Ready?"
Suddenly suspicious of his alluring smile, she asked, "For what, exactly?"
"To be seen." He flicked the reins, and the horses started forward. "By the end of this drive, all of London will know that I'm courting you in earnest, and I fully intend to wed you."
Nicole's stomach clenched. "Wed? Simply because you are seen with me in broad daylight?"
He glanced at her, his expression softening. "Exactly. Are you nervous?"
"To be honest, I’m terrified." Embarrassed by the admission, she pinched her lips together.
Felix elbowed her. "Of me?"
"Of course, not you!. Of… this…” She waved her hand in the small space between them. “Of being the center of attention. Of everyone watching and judging and—" She stopped, realizing he’d managed to bring out the unbecoming Scottish ire within her.
Felix was quiet for a moment as he navigated the curricle through the London streets.
He glanced at the Astier building to the left and sighed.
"When I was twelve, my father took me to Parliament for the first time.
I was supposed to sit quietly and observe, learn how to be a proper duke someday.
Instead, I tripped on the steps, knocked over a footman, and accidentally called the Prime Minister 'sir' instead of 'my lord. '"
Despite her anxiety, her lips twitched. "Really?"
"Yes, I did indeed. My father was mortified. Reg laughed so hard he nearly tripped himself, and you know how light and agile he is on his feet. I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the floor and never emerge."
"What did you do?"
"I stood up, brushed myself off, stuck my nose up in the air like my father, and pretended it never happened.
" Felix's hands were steady on the reins, his profile strong against the afternoon light.
"Because that's what dukes do. We pretend.
We perform. We never let anyone see that we're just as terrified and uncertain as everyone else.
" He turned to look at her, and Nicole was struck by the vulnerability in his eyes.
"But I don't have to pretend when I’m with you," he said quietly. "I don't feel the need to perform or hide or be anyone other than who I am. Even if the truth is that I'm awkward, uncoordinated, and completely out of my depth."
Nicole's throat tightened. "Accidents happen all the time. You're none of those things. And you're especially not flailing about society like I am."
"Aren't I?" His smile was self-deprecating. "I'm openly courting a woman who doesn't trust me, who has every reason to believe I'm playing a game, and who could destroy me with a single word. I'd say that qualifies as being in over my head."
His accusation made her brows snap together. "I wouldn't destroy you."
"Wouldn't you?" Felix gave her a side glance before focusing on the traffic in front of them.
"You could, you know. Quite easily. All you'd have to do is tell me to leave you alone, and I would.
Because despite what you think, I'm not a complete scoundrel.
I wouldn't force my attentions on a woman who didn't want them. "
"Then why are you doing this?" Nicole asked. "Why court me so publicly when you know I'm uncertain? Why not marry one of the many who are willing?"
"Because I’ve never been interested in anyone but you.
" Felix's voice was firm. "I want you, Nicole. I miss your sharp tongue, your fierce intelligence, and the way you challenge me at every turn. I need the girl who taught me I could do anything if I set my mind to it, and I desperately want to kiss the woman who pushed me away in the library. You are exactly what I want and need in a wife.”
They passed through the open gates of Hyde Park, and Felix expertly guided the curricle onto the crowded main path. Almost immediately, heads turned. Whispers followed in their wake like ripples on a pond. Nicole's hands clenched in her lap. "Everyone's staring."
"Let them." Felix's voice was calm, unbothered. "They're going to stare regardless. Might as well give them something worth looking at."
"I'm not worth looking at."
The curricle came to an abrupt halt. Felix turned on the seat to face her fully, his expression fierce.
"Don't," he said. "Don't ever say that again."
"It's true—"
"It's not." His hand covered hers, warm and steady. "I don't know what those vapid ladies on the ton said to you during your debut, but they were wrong. You're beautiful, Nicole. Not in the conventional way that society prizes, perhaps, but in a way that matters far more."
She didn’t want to believe him or trust he was telling the truth. "You're saying that because—"
"Because I've been staring at you for three years and memorizing every detail?
" Felix 's thumb traced circles on the back of her hand.
"I know exactly how your eyes change color depending on your mood.
I've spent countless hours imagining what it would be like to make you smile at me again, really smile, the way you used to when we were children. "
Nicole's breath caught. "Felix—"
"You wanted honesty. Then let me tell you…
" His voice was low, intense. "I was scared to approach you.
You terrify me. Not because you're ugly, or too tall, or any of the ridiculous things you've convinced yourself you are. But because you’ve always been able to see me.
The real me. And I was petrified that if I came close, dared to attempt to reconcile, you would take one look at me and see that I'm not worth the trouble. "
For a long moment, Nicole simply stared at him. They ignored the angry shouts to move and brushed aside the curious stares followed by ladies' gasps. Slowly, she turned her hand over so their palms pressed together. "You're an idiot," she said softly.
Felix blinked. "I beg your pardon?"