Page 11 of Within the Hollow Heart

He dipped his head, drawing her hand to his lips to press a soft kiss on her skin. He glanced up at her. “May we both enjoy the safety of our most fitting betrothal yet.”

A warning flashed in her gaze, and Nickolas straightened to follow where it held over his shoulder. The man down the path had stood and faced them, his eyes narrowed on the delicate fingers in Nickolas’s hand.

“Nickolas,” Jules urged. “Come along. It’s time to return to the chancery.”

CHAPTER6

Nickolas was still contemplating the man from the path as he walked away from the chancery entrance. It had been strange, but Jules had not seemed afraid. The only urgency, it seemed, was to remove herself from Nickolas’s company.

He frowned, disliking the idea, and turned the corner into a connecting corridor, where he was met directly with the worst thing he could possibly imagine—his mother’s narrowed gaze. He was not proud when he made a small startled yelp and stumbled backward.

Her jaw was set. “Who was that?”

Internally, Nickolas cursed. Outwardly, he only blinked in confusion. “Who?”

Her tone lowered dangerously. “That chit you just left. Do not try me, boy.”

He made to brush past her. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about. I was at the chancery to see Gideon.”

She put a hand on his arm as if to stall him. “You loathe Lord Alexander.”

“Yes.” He made a show of sighing. “But Antonetta has asked that I make the effort. So I have, for her.”

A kingsman passed in the connecting corridor, and his mother snapped, “Come with me.”

“I do not believe I will.”

Her fingers curled into the material of his coat, warning him not to disobey her again.

Nickolas felt his expression go hard. He leaned in. “The Carvells, Mother? Really? Have you entirely lost your mind? To have your own son trussed up like a—”

Another figure passed in the corridor, and Nickolas dropped his voice. “You know what Lord Carvell is capable of. You know the sort of man, the sort of family you were trying to tie us to. Has it truly come to this? Have the Brighams fallen so low?”

“They have fallen precisely so low. And you will bring them back. I do not know how you managed to wrangle out of the arrangement, but mark my words, you will regret this defiance. If you know what is best for you, for the Brigham name, you will make things right with the Carvells.” Each word she spoke was bitten off with too-sharp teeth. Carvell might have heeded Jules’s warning to keep the incident in the garden private, but it was clear Nickolas was not yet safe.

He tugged his jacket from her considerable grip. “Rightis evidently the only direction absent from your moral compass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mother, I have business to attend.”

He strode from her, the ire in her gaze tightening the knot in him until he felt rather like he might be sick. He’d made a mistake. He’d been convinced his mother would be nowhere near. She must have heard that he’d escaped her ambush and come to discover how for herself. Nickolas couldn’t stand to think of the position he’d put Jules in. If his mother discovered their ruse, if she tried to hurt Jules or to remove her from Nickolas’s life…

So help him, he would never marry if he could help it. He hadn’t been worried about Etta. She was stubborn and strong-willed, and she possessed a high-enough station that she would have at least had the chance to hold her footing against his mother. But Nickolas could not subject any other woman to his situation or his mother. He needed to sever her attempts to control him. He had to find a way to escape for good.

Whatever Nickolas did, he would have to do it fast. The longer he lingered, the greater the chance he took that someone would get hurt.

* * *

Nickolas was no morethan another single corridor away before he was tweaked by the ear and dragged through a nearby doorway. He jerked away from the grip just as the door was slammed shut, closing him in a narrow room with Lady Antonetta Ostwind.

Nickolas rubbed his ear. “That was uncalled for.”

Etta leaned toward him. “Was it?” She was in uniform, her hair drawn back and her manner firm.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he groused.

She crossed her arms. “Yes, in fact. I was doing it when I caught sight of Lord Nickolas Brigham prancing after a member of chancery staff like a hobbledehoy.”

Nickolas drew back. “I was not.”

“You were. I cannot believe you, Nickolas. Marriage? To Jules?”

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