Page 34 of Ordered Home for the Holidays
“Will you think about letting me court you?” He kept his voice quiet. “I know what Mother told you, but I would like to court you for myself.”
She looked up at him, staring him directly in the eye. It was uncomfortable, but she was looking for something, so he just looked back, open and honest as he knew how to be.
“Alright,” she whispered. “I don’t think you’ll care for me much, but it does no harm to either of us.”
“I think I will care for you a great deal.” He took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. “I will see you tomorrow night, Nell.”
“Goodnight, Nick.” She looked at him one more time before he escorted her back to the gate into her garden and left her inside the safety of the confines.
He went back to his own door, fighting the vines away and managing more or less to fall back into the garden. They’d had another two inches of snow while he and Nell had been talking, and the plows would be out soon to clear the roads.
Nick left the snow and the garden behind, going to the kitchen and scaring up a cup of hot tea to take the chill out of his middle before he went to find his bed.
He could see Nell’s window from his, and her light was still on. He wondered what she was thinking, if he’d frightened her. He didn’t think so; she was sterner stuff than that. If he’ddone something that she hadn’t liked, she would have smacked him properly.
She wouldn’t have been gentle about it.
Why did that make him smile?
He sat and sipped his tea until Nell’s light went out and then he divested himself of his heavy wool and went to bed.
* * *
The next morning, he woke, dressed in morning clothing and was immediately told that his father had worsened during the night. There was a healer called, and they were making strides, but it was going to be best for Lord Graves if he was transferred away from the air of the city.
“I will go and see if that will be possible.” Nick sighed and left the townhouse to go and beg for an audience with the king. Lord Graves was under house arrest, and only the king might lift it and transfer it to the estate.
“No reason not to,” the king said after reading the healer’s report. “I grant your request to move Lord Graves to your estate.”
“Thank you, majesty.” Nick bowed and left the hall, back to the townhouse where he gave the news to the healers and to his mother.
The healers packed Lord Graves up, and they were out of the city by midafternoon, but Duchess Graves remained behind.
“Mama?”
“I will stay to be your hostess until you wed Miss Warrick.” She told him with a smile. “All that can be done for him is being done, and I shan’t fuss myself about it.”
“We talked last night,” he smiled at the memory. “She’s agreed to let me court her, though she thinks I’ll tire of her before long.”
Chapter Ten
Nell managed to sleep, which she hadn’t really been expecting. She’d walked away from Nick, even though she’d just wanted him to hold her, to kiss her, and he’d wanted to as well. Nell had seen it in the way he kept looking at her lips.
She’d wanted to ask, but she’d already asked too much of him that night. And tonight there would be next to no chance with the opening ball of the season happening. He would be busy with the other ladies, and he would probably come to her and tell her he didn’t want to court her any longer now that he’d thought about it.
But she wasn’t going to borrow trouble. She was going to get up and find something to eat and then there were absolute hours of faff that she was going to be put through in order to ready her for the ball tonight .
She did have to admit that her gown was lovely. White silk velvet with baby blue silk ribbons and flowers holding the swags of the skirt. The underpinnings of all the architecture were mildly uncomfortable, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle.
Nell put on her wrapper and went to find breakfast, startled to find both her mama and her papa sitting at the breakfast table waiting for her.
“Are you ready for today, Nellie?” Her papa’s gruff voice was at odds with the smile he sent her way.
“Yes, Papa,” Nell sat down at the table and smiled at Mary, who was putting broiled tomatoes and bacon on herplate. “I’m not really looking forward to having my hair pulled seven ways to Sunday, but that’s a minor inconvenience, not a problem.”
“Had this for you in the morning post,” her papa pushed a simple envelope across the table. “Think it’s from your duke.”
“He’s not mine, Papa.” Nell protested while reaching for the envelope. “He’s going to figure out in short order that I’m not what he wants.”
