possible.
Tears of grief and humiliation blinding her, her breast knotted in pain, she
spurred her mare into a gallop, and left him standing alone in a cloud of dust.
Nicole used the excuse
of her headache to remain closeted in her room that afternoon and all that
evening. She did not come down to supper. Both the Earl and Chad came to
inquire after her and it took a supreme amount of self-control to hide her
shattered heart from them. Not wanting to rouse more suspicion than she already
had, she accepted the tray that Annie brought up, then gave its contents to one
of the house cats.
Her misery deepened with
the night. How naive she had been! How stupid! To believe in fairy tales when
fairy tales did not exist, at least not for her, never for her. Foolishly she
had fallen in love with the Duke; not with the man he really was, but with a
man she had created in her own wild imagination. That man did not exist, and
the Duke was nothing more than an immoral philanderer.
And just as foolishly
she had thought him to be in love with her, too.
She was too hurt to hate
him, at least for now.
She almost gave in to
tears but she fought them. When she had first come out and had not been
accepted by her peers, that had hurt horribly, too. At the time, it had been
the most shocking blow of her life. She had grown up at Dragmore where she was
accepted and loved by everyone from the lowest stableboy to her adoring
parents. There had never been a day in her life—until her debut— that she had
not felt secure. But her debut had changed all that.
For the fact was that
Nicole was different from the other young ladies of society and they discerned
this immediately. She had absolutely nothing in common with them. She had been
raised to be active and to think for herself, and as a consequence, she was
forthright and outspoken; they had been raised to be pretty, modest and demure,
and they simpered with the men and gossiped with each other. Their predominant
interests in life were the latest fashions and capturing a husband, and because
Nicole honestly did not share those interests, she was an outcast from the
start. She could not be forgiven for such sacrilege.
She had created the
scandal herself, but Nicole had not expected society to turn on her as cruelly
as it had. Actually, she had not thought much about what she was doing, knowing
only at the last minute that she just could not go through with the marriage.
She had never loved Percy Hempstead, never cared one way or another about him.
Her first two years out she had shown no interest in any suitor, which was why
her father had finally stepped in and offered her one prospect after another. They
had fought. Nicole had begged not to be married off like some brood mare sent
to stud, but he was deaf to her pleas.
"There are dozens
of fine, eligible men for you to choose from," he had raged at her.
"Yet in two years you've turned every one of them away! I will not allow
you to ruin your future, Nicole, so now I am going to find you the right
man!"
Nicole had run from him,
furious and upset, yet knowing, too, that he was motivated by love for her,
thought he was doing what was best, and also thought that one day, she would
look back and agree that he had been right.
Percy Hempstead was a
few years older than she was, good looking, pleasant, the heir to the Earl of
Langston. Nicole wished she could summon up some interest in him, for he was
clearly very nice, kind to everyone, including his horses and dogs, a true test
of character.
He was also a hard
worker, not a wastrel, and many young women had set their caps for him. Even
Martha oohed and aahed over him, declaring how handsome he was with his dark hair
and blue eyes and his finely sculpted features. Pressured by everyone, and
liking Percy as a friend, she had finally agreed to the alliance.
As the wedding
approached, her original objections to being wed grew stronger and stronger.
She didn't love him. She barely knew him, he
Tears of grief and humiliation blinding her, her breast knotted in pain, she
spurred her mare into a gallop, and left him standing alone in a cloud of dust.
Nicole used the excuse
of her headache to remain closeted in her room that afternoon and all that
evening. She did not come down to supper. Both the Earl and Chad came to
inquire after her and it took a supreme amount of self-control to hide her
shattered heart from them. Not wanting to rouse more suspicion than she already
had, she accepted the tray that Annie brought up, then gave its contents to one
of the house cats.
Her misery deepened with
the night. How naive she had been! How stupid! To believe in fairy tales when
fairy tales did not exist, at least not for her, never for her. Foolishly she
had fallen in love with the Duke; not with the man he really was, but with a
man she had created in her own wild imagination. That man did not exist, and
the Duke was nothing more than an immoral philanderer.
And just as foolishly
she had thought him to be in love with her, too.
She was too hurt to hate
him, at least for now.
She almost gave in to
tears but she fought them. When she had first come out and had not been
accepted by her peers, that had hurt horribly, too. At the time, it had been
the most shocking blow of her life. She had grown up at Dragmore where she was
accepted and loved by everyone from the lowest stableboy to her adoring
parents. There had never been a day in her life—until her debut— that she had
not felt secure. But her debut had changed all that.
For the fact was that
Nicole was different from the other young ladies of society and they discerned
this immediately. She had absolutely nothing in common with them. She had been
raised to be active and to think for herself, and as a consequence, she was
forthright and outspoken; they had been raised to be pretty, modest and demure,
and they simpered with the men and gossiped with each other. Their predominant
interests in life were the latest fashions and capturing a husband, and because
Nicole honestly did not share those interests, she was an outcast from the
start. She could not be forgiven for such sacrilege.
She had created the
scandal herself, but Nicole had not expected society to turn on her as cruelly
as it had. Actually, she had not thought much about what she was doing, knowing
only at the last minute that she just could not go through with the marriage.
She had never loved Percy Hempstead, never cared one way or another about him.
Her first two years out she had shown no interest in any suitor, which was why
her father had finally stepped in and offered her one prospect after another. They
had fought. Nicole had begged not to be married off like some brood mare sent
to stud, but he was deaf to her pleas.
"There are dozens
of fine, eligible men for you to choose from," he had raged at her.
"Yet in two years you've turned every one of them away! I will not allow
you to ruin your future, Nicole, so now I am going to find you the right
man!"
Nicole had run from him,
furious and upset, yet knowing, too, that he was motivated by love for her,
thought he was doing what was best, and also thought that one day, she would
look back and agree that he had been right.
Percy Hempstead was a
few years older than she was, good looking, pleasant, the heir to the Earl of
Langston. Nicole wished she could summon up some interest in him, for he was
clearly very nice, kind to everyone, including his horses and dogs, a true test
of character.
He was also a hard
worker, not a wastrel, and many young women had set their caps for him. Even
Martha oohed and aahed over him, declaring how handsome he was with his dark hair
and blue eyes and his finely sculpted features. Pressured by everyone, and
liking Percy as a friend, she had finally agreed to the alliance.
As the wedding
approached, her original objections to being wed grew stronger and stronger.
She didn't love him. She barely knew him, he
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