Page 24 of House of Thorns
The movement broke the spell between them.
Jutting her jaw, Olivia snapped, “I fail to see why you are here. This matter is truly none of my concern. It’s Deborah you should be speaking with. Not I. I would greatly appreciate you handling your own affairs.”
Nicholas snorted. “I haven’t spoken to Deborah in years, nor, might I add, was she the one to write. Why would I disturb the lass over a spiteful lie?”
“I donotlie,” she retorted.
“Then, shall we pay Deborah a visit and settle this matter once and for all?” Nicholas crossed his arms as his irritation resurfaced. “We are but a short carriage ride away from the truth.”
“I can scarcely pick up at the drop of a hat.” She waved a hand at the shop.
He refrained from pointing out the lack of customers. “Then may I reserve the pleasure of your company tomorrow? Surely, you understand that I need your help. I can scarcely arrive at the Duke of Lennox’s residence, unannounced, to discuss such a delicate matter.”
She hesitated, visibly.
“Believe me, Miss Mackenzie, I have every intention of upholding the truth.” He chuckled, then added, “If I am truly proven to be the father of your cousin’s child, believe me, I will wed her within the week.”
A flash of naked doubt crossed her face.
He grinned. So, she wasn’t as believing of her cousin as she claimed.
The shop door rattled and opened, jiggling the bell, and a dark-haired man entered, his hat tucked under his arm, his gloves in hand, and a very finely carved, silver-handled walking stick hooked over his arm.
Recognition punched Nicholas like a fist in the gut. Years. A good ten years had passed since he’d last seen Lord James Randall.
It wasn’t long enough.
Lord Randall looked up and then stood still as if poised to flee.
Nicholas recovered first. “Fancy meeting you here, Randall,” he grated through tightly clenched teeth.
Lord Randall closed the door behind him with a deliberate slowness before answering, “So, my eyes do not deceive me. I didn’t know you could be bothered to leave the card table, Blair.”
The words sounded innocent and apt enough, given his reputation, but coming from Lord Randall’s mouth, they took on quite a different meaning. Henrietta. Henrietta Kendrick, the woman who would always stand between them, the woman Nicholas had lost to Randall over his choice to play a game of cards that fateful night.
Nicholas drew a sharp breath. Even after ten years, the memory of Henrietta still hurt. His first love, lost, and long dead—thanks to the man standing before him.
“Do not allow me to interfere with your purchase, Randall,” he clipped.
A calculating gleam sparked in Lord Randall’s eyes. “Purchase? Perhaps, I’ve business of another sort, my dear fellow.”
Nicholas tensed. There was no mistaking that look of smug satisfaction. Was the snake playing a game with Olivia? Like he’d bloody hell letthathappen—not again.
“Nay,” Nicholas replied, lifting his lip in a dangerous smile. “You’ll be leaving. Soon.”
“Miss Mackenzie would have a say, I imagine,” Lord Randall softly disagreed.
From the corner of his eye, Nicholas saw Olivia glance from man to man, clearly puzzled, but he couldn’t let himself become distracted—not again.
“Nay,” Nicholas replied, deadly calm. “You and your insidious ways are not welcome here.”
Lord Randall’s eye twitched. “Insidious? Simply because you lost?”
Lost? Did losing to a man who lied and bent the truth, truly count as a loss? While Nicholas had played his game, Randall had whispered lies into sweet Henrietta’s so very innocent ears. He’d drowned her with glasses of wine. He’d broken her heart. Then, he’d invited himself into her bed. The next morning, she’d agreed to become the next Lady Randall. Her conscience had allowed her no other choice.
“Then, you both fancy music, do you?” Olivia’s voice broke the silence. “Piano arrangements? Violin? Perhaps both?” As they continued to glare at one another, she moved to the shelves and began pulling out various sheets of music. “Might I recommendThe Soldier’s Adieu? A copy for each gentleman?”
Lord Randall’s eyes narrowed at Nicholas. “I often find the past destined to repeat itself. Do you not think so?”
