Mary Moore - The Aristocrat's Lady

His loud crack of laughter booming from the curricle drew the stares of several pedestrians on Berkeley Square, and not a few comments on the lack of gentility in young people today!

Lord Devlin was an excellent tour guide. He spoke freely of London’s more interesting sights, and she appeared to listen closely to his words without the silly interruptions usually accompanying such an outing with other females. When he pointed out the famed Drury Lane Theatre, he felt her excitement increase though she did not speak. He thought he could not be mistaken in her reaction. “Have you had an opportunity to visit the theater since being in Town?” Devlin inquired.

“No,” Nicole replied, softly. “I have often dreamed of attending Drury Lane, but Mama has not allowed us the time on this trip.” She laughed and shook her head. “I shall put myself beyond the pale by telling you that as a child I wished to be an actress. I was quite downcast for several weeks and took my parents seriously to task for being wellborn!”

“I have a new respect and compassion for your mother and father, my dear. Had I been your sire, I may have resorted to locking you in your room until you reached your majority.”

Devlin had a difficult time keeping his eyes off her face. She made no reply, but her smile seemed to shine directly from her heart. What an unusual woman! She truly enjoyed his light banter, unlike the females who tittered and slapped his arm while declaring him a horrible tease.

Conversation ceased for several moments as Lord Devlin maneuvered his team through the busy city streets. Very soon they were past the outskirts of London, and Devlin chose a path along the Thames which he knew was less traveled.

“The roses and honeysuckle smell simply wonderful,” Lady Nicole said. Her eyes closed in the enjoyment of it. “I do not believe I have been to this part of the city before.”

The voice of her manservant sounded from behind them. It momentarily diverted Lord Devlin’s attention.

“There’s them yellow roses you love so much over to the right, my lady.”

“Ah, Toby, thank you,” she said as she turned her head in that direction.

Perhaps, thought Devlin, she was one of the very progressive elite who allowed their servants much freedom. He knew his grandmother gave her servants much license; she believed them to be her equals in God’s eyes. More likely, Lady Nicole’s accident had given him more prominence than was usual. Devlin was certainly puzzled by the enigma.

He slowed his horses to a sedate trot. The almost deserted lane allowed him to turn his full attention to the lovely woman beside him.

“The time has come, my lady,” Devlin began. “I have waited patiently during the past two weeks to hear all about you. I would like a history of Lady Nicole Beaumont, and I shall not hesitate to quiz your charming mother should you try to dissemble.”

Nicole seemed easier in his company today, but still showed signs of reticence. She would make a teasing comment with a sparkle in her eye, then her countenance would change and he sensed an inner turmoil in her. He would take an oath she had been happy just seconds before, then as quickly, her thoughts seemed to take her deep inside herself.

He had been intrigued since meeting her, yet he admitted that her many facets might require more attention than he had ever invested in a woman. He had promised himself that after his marriage to Vivian, he would only enter into a relationship with all the cards on the table. He knew he must marry again eventually; as head of the family he must produce an heir. But he justified that at the age of one and thirty he had plenty of time.

He decided he was on the verge of a relationship with this woman, he just did not know yet of what nature. Confound it! This was the third time they had met, but he felt so drawn to her that he was sure he had to know her better.

Devlin had told her he wished them to be friends. But he had never been simply friends with a female. Truth to tell, he would not have believed such a relationship possible had not his own best friend, Lord Hampton, had such a friendship with the woman he had eventually married. There had been the rub! Peter had been adamant that they were just friends for years. The problem was, it had ended in their marriage. Beth was a wonderful woman, but Devlin found it hard to believe that their relationship as friends had only been the natural incline of deeper feelings. Peter even went so far as to say that having been friends first only increased the satisfaction in their marriage. Devlin felt only doubt.

But it was no use. He had allowed his curiosity to override his judgment, and he knew he would be unable to dismiss the intriguing Lady Nicole. He told himself he only wished to enjoy the remainder of the Season with a light flirtation. He would feel no remorse, as both of them had clearly dismissed marriage the night they met.

He felt her forcibly lighten her mood next to him. She apologized and drew his attention back to his earlier request. “My lord, there is no mystery or excitement to my life. I am afraid you shall be terribly disappointed if you have truly been waiting weeks to hear of it!” Her laughter delighted him. He found he enjoyed making her laugh and that, too, was a new feeling to him.

“I have no reluctance to tell you, my lord, I only fear boring you to tears. I would not be able to face my family should you send me home alone in your curricle.”

“You are trying to throw me off the scent, my dear, but to no avail. I am inclined to be gregarious this afternoon. Tell me about your home. Or you may talk of your parents, how well you watercolor—whatever interests you.” He paused for a moment. “And as we have agreed that we shall become fast friends, I would be honored if you would call me Jared.”

“My lord, you cannot be serious?” she asked incredulously. “You know how very improper that would be. Why, the first time anyone heard me call you such, I would be labeled forward and be ostracized from the little of the ton that accepts me now.” She thought he must be teasing her again, so she smiled as she said, “Or is that your diabolical plan?”

He was perfectly serious in reply, however. “Perhaps you could use my name when we are alone, as now, and my title when others are present?”

“I am afraid you give me far too much credit! I should not be able to carry it off, my lord,” she said. “I would be standing next to one of the patronesses of the hallowed halls of Almack’s and say, quite without thinking, ‘Jared, pray tell me how your dear grandmother is.’” She smiled wickedly as he burst out laughing. “There would not be enough smelling salts in all of England to revive the matrons!”

“Minx,” he said, in a mischievous tone. “Very well, I shall forgo your downfall in Society, for now. But I beg a compromise. May we not agree on Devlin? Your address of me in public, as in private, will prevent the censure of the great ladies of Almack’s.”

“That seems fair, my lord … urn, Devlin. In return, you must know that the ones closest to me do not call me Nicole. My friends call me Nick or Nicky. Should it please you, feel free to address me as such.” She laughed a bit as she continued, “Indeed, you quite remind me of my father when you refer to me as Nicole. He is the only one who ever did so.”

“Do not fly up into the boughs with me. Despite your strict sense of propriety, you will not deter me from calling you Nicole. You see, I believe I can safely use your Christian name in private yet appear quite formal in public. And I defy anyone to call such a beautiful woman Nick!”

He lowered his voice to a thoughtful timbre. “If it would not offend the memory you have of your father, I would greatly cherish the honor of calling you Nicole.”