Chapter 6
Six
Swyft Castle, Scotland
As Nicole leaned against the cold, stone casement of the castle, her skin pebbled.
It was a stark reminder that she was no longer in London.
Exhausted from the turmoil of emotions that she wasn’t prepared for, Nicole leaned her forehead against the encased glass.
Her breath fogged the thin planes and blurred her view of the glen below that butted against the unpaved trail that led in and out of the castle.
For three days, she’d waited for a carriage to appear out of the mist, but she’d only spied her clansmen traversing back and forth upon the path on horseback.
“Ye're gonnae catch a cold if ye stand here day an' night.” Aunt Matilda draped a warm tartan over her shoulders.
Nicole looked over her shoulder at the woman who was like a mother to her. “He hasn’t come as I’d hoped.”
Arms wrapped about her waist, her aunt pressed a warm check against Nicole’s shoulder. “Och, well, noo, but I’m share ye’ll hear from him soon. Maybe today’s the day ye get word from ye fella.”
Nicole remained still, allowing her aunt’s warmth to settle her troubled mind.
Her first week back in Scotland had passed in a blur as her family laid her uncle to rest, but the last three days had been long and the nights longer.
With each passing minute, Nicole’s faith that Felix would arrive or send word dwindled.
Her time with Felix was over. A month had come and gone.
She shouldn’t have placed her trust in his promises.
Hadn’t she learned that lesson three years ago?
She'd been a fool to believe him. A fool to think she could be different from all the other women he'd charmed and discarded.
The numbness that had sustained her through the funeral finally cracked, and the full weight of her loss bore down on her.
If her aunt had not had a hold on her, she would have crumpled to the floor.
If Felix had truly abandoned her once again, there was no reason for her to return to London.
She’d remain in Scotland, as far away as possible from the man she'd loved since childhood and forget the man who had promised to love her forever.
“Lass, ye need some rest.” Her aunt guided her over to her oversized bed, which was so tall she had to use a stool in order to climb up.
She slipped between the linens and allowed her aunt to fuss over her, tucking her in like a babe. “Thank you, Aunt Matilda. What would I do without you?”
“Ooh, ye’d be fine.” Her aunt placed a cool hand over her forehead and stroked her brow as if to smooth her worries away.
Nicole let her eyes flutter closed. She should have stayed in Scotland, surrounded by those who loved her.
She should have spent more time with Uncle Logan.
Oh, how she missed his reassuring laughter.
Determined not to repeat mistakes of the past, Nicole murmured, “I’m never leaving you again, Aunt Matilda. I’m staying in Scotland forever.”
“Now dinnae be makin’ any rash decisions. Yer Uncle Logan’s still watchin’ over ye, an' ye ken he would tell ye to follow yer heart.”
Her heart was as confused as her mind. Unlike three years ago, her heart was now shattered.
She would cherish the memories of three glorious weeks she’d spent with Felix and banish her childish daydreams of growing old with the man.
Three weeks with Felix was all he’d ever promised, and like all the other ladies before her, she had been a fool to believe his sweet words of love and forever.
Without hope, the thought of returning to London had her stomach churning.
Scotland was her home, and that was where she’d stay.
She could fill her days assisting her father manage the estates that would one day be passed down to her.
Her mind quieted as an image of living a quiet peaceful life surrounded by family consumed her.
“I was wrong to leave. My heart is safe here, with you and the clan.” Her voice trailed into a whisper as sleep claimed her.
London, England
Three weeks straight of dealing with funeral and estate matters had given Felix a constant headache.
He had spent every waking hour meeting with solicitors, stewards, and tenants.
He’d shared his woes with Nicole, pouring out his frustration and longing in daily letters he sent her.
What worried him most was her lack of response.
Not once did he receive a reply during his entire time away.
He’d completed only the imperative tasks because he couldn’t be apart from Nicole a moment longer.
As his travel coach approached Baron Swyft’s London residence, Felix peered out the window.
A lump formed in his throat as he pressed his nose to the glass.
The townhome appeared shuttered and empty.
His heart sank. Why were the Baron and Nicole not in residence?
His heart raced as he rapped on the coach ceiling and ordered the driver to stop immediately.
Felix couldn’t wait; he had to find Nicole.
He bounded up the path to the front door and let the knocker fall three times.
When a sleepy butler appeared, Felix's heart leapt with hope.
The old man rubbed his eyes. “Your Grace?”
“Is Miss Nicole in residence?”
The man’s white wiry brows knitted together. “No, and even if she were, the answer would still be no.”
“Please, I beg you. I need to see her,” Felix implored.
“Miss Nicole is currently not in residence.”
Surprised at the lack of address from the butler, Felix took a step back. Apparently, his elevated title held little weight within Baron Swyft’s household. The door was about to close in his face when Felix reached out to grasp it by the edge. “At least tell me if she received my letters.”
The old man rubbed his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did ye read me Miss’s note to ye?”
“What note?”
“The one she sent with the news of her uncle.” The man’s white brows knitted.
“She sent ye a note afore she left. Ye didn’t respond for days.
We ain’t gonna let ye hurt Miss Nicole again.
” Felix stood there and stared at the old man, and when he didn’t say a word, the butler continued, “Ye dinna show up for days, weeks, and now ye want answers. There be no instructions for me to forward them on. So, no, Your Grace, she’s not received yer letters. ”
“Where is she?”
The butler’s beady eyes narrowed, and he gave Felix a thorough once over. “Yer not goin’ to hurt her and make her wait another three bleedin years, are ye?”
“I shall place her first before all else.”
“Ye sure yer responsibilities can wait?”
Called out by the Swyft butler was by far the most humbling experience Felix had ever encountered, but he wasn’t even the slightest bit angry since the man was absolutely correct.
He’d failed Nicole twice, and he didn’t dare to push his luck.
“I’ll be sure to make arrangements. Tell me where she is. ”
“Yer officially a duke now, and all of London is eagerly awaiting to see how ye will get on with matters. Leave Miss Nicole be.”
The bloody butler’s words sliced through him. At the stubborn set of the old man’s chin, Felix acknowledged he’d not get any answers from the blasted butler. It was the wake up call he needed and muttered, “Never again,” as he made his way back to his travel coach.
Felix called up to the driver, "Reg's townhouse. Now."
Wide-eyed, the driver nodded, and as soon as the coach door closed, they were off.
The short journey through London took five years off Felix’s life.
The wheels careened around corners, and it came to such an abrupt stop that it sent him flying about inside the vehicle yet he cared not.
He deserved to be thrown about like a rag doll for his treatment of Nicole. What a dunderhead he’d been.
Felix bounded up the steps to Reg’s lodgings two at a time.
He didn’t want to spend a moment longer than necessary in London.
Candlelight seeped into the hall from his brother’s study, and Felix threw the door open to find Reg lounging at his desk, reviewing a mound of correspondence.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one inundated with duties now that his father had passed.
Reg didn’t bother to stand to greet him, instead, his twin grumbled, "Finally, you're back. I was—"
Palms planted on Reg’s desk, Felix leaned forward and said, “Nicole’s gone.”
“Gone where?” Reg studied his twin, who mirrored his earlier shock.
“I don’t bloody well know. What good is it to be a damn duke if I can’t even extract information from a bleeding butler?”
Reg stood up and barked, “Calm down, so I can assist.”
“She sent me a note, but I never received it. You told the staff to forward all the mail before our hasty departure, did you not?”
“Of course, I did.” Reg said, but his left brow raised ever so slightly indicating he was thinking.
“Are you certain?”
“Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t swear on our father’s grave that I had.
But you have trained the staff well, I’m confident that they would have done so even without my instruction.
” Reg dodged Felix’s glare and set about rifling through stacks of correspondence on his desk.
“These are all the invitations you asked me to reply to…” He held up a bundle, then moved on to another.
“These are papers from the solicitors, and…” Reg’s eyes went wide as a note fell to the desk.
Recognizing the Swyft seal, Felix snatched the missive and tore it open. His jaw fell as he read the words he never expected to be written in Nicole’s elegant script. I can’t marry you. “She left me.”
Reg rounded his desk, slung an arm over his shoulders, and took the note that was shaking in his hand. His twin turned him by the shoulders. “We’ll set off for Scotland immediately.”