Page 75 of More or Less a Countess
“I believe I’ll ride with you and Lady Dare the rest of the way to Ashdown Park.” His aunt held out her hand, and Nick dutifully took it and helped her into the carriage. He turned to offer his hand to Violet next, but she refused to notice it, and boarded the carriage without his assistance.
Nick waited until the servants finished loading the baggage, then he threw himself into a corner of his carriage and lapsed into a moody silence. His head ached like the devil, his aunt was in a snit, and his bride couldn’t bring herself to touch him.
It promised to be a delightful journey.
His aunt and wife ignored him in favor of making polite conversation between themselves, which suited Nick just fine. He closed his eyes and tried to will the tension from his limbs, and for a while it seemed to work, but as they approached the border of Surrey and made their way into West Sussex toward Ashdown Park, Nick’s hard-won peace deserted him.
It had been nearly three years since he’d been to his childhood home. Avoiding the place after Graham’s death had been the only thing he and his father had in common, but now here he was, back again.
It felt as if no time at all had passed, and yet at the same time, everything had changed.
Graham was gone, and whatever fond memories Nick cherished of his time in West Sussex had been lost in a sea of pain and grief. Nothing short of a permanent escape to the Continent could ever have induced him to set foot near the place again.
But the Dare name and legacy must be preserved at all costs, mustn’t it? And Lady Westcott, with her strict sense of propriety and her piles of money, must have her way in all things, no matter who it hurt.
His fury began to build until at last Nick’s eyes flew open. He needed an outlet, a target for his rage, and as soon as his gaze settled on his aunt, he found it. Her hands were clasped neatly in her lap, every fold of her gown falling in perfect, graceful lines, and she was watching him.
Waiting.
A grim smile stretched Nick’s lips. She’d known all along he’d explode. She’d simply been waiting for it to happen, and he wouldn’t dream of disappointing her.
“I see my father was too busy drinking and wagering away my fortune to waste any of his precious time here. I confess I didn’t expect much of the old pile, my lady, but it’s even shabbier than I imagined it would be.”
“Yes, well, it’s been sadly neglected, I’m afraid.” Lady Westcott’s tone was even, neutral.
It infuriated Nick she should be so calm while his stomach churned with anger and pain. “I suppose no one saw much reason to keep it up after Graham was murdered. Once the heir is dead, what’s the point, after all?”
He used the ugliest words he could, and made his voice as harsh as possible. Violet sucked in a shocked breath, but his aunt never flinched. “The heirisn’tgone, Nicholas. You’re Lord Dare, and you’re right here.”
“Me? Oh, come now, Aunt. I’m nothing but a poor substitute for the true heir—a last resort, as it were. A disappointing son, a disappointing nephew, and now destined to become a disappointing husband, as well.”
Violet gasped. “No! I never said—”
He interrupted her with a short laugh. “You didn’t have to say it, Lady Dare. You wrote it down, remember? Christ, you drew a bloody picture of it.”
God, he hated this. Hated the look of despair on her face, hated that he’d been the one to put it there, and hated himself for his pettiness. He hated this place, and he hated his father, and he hated that no matter what he’d done, or how hard he’d tried, he’d never been good enough to take Graham’s place.
“It’s a pity, truly, that I should have proved such a disappointment, but anyone would have proved a disappointment in comparison to Graham. Except, perhaps, Lord Derrick. He is, after all, the perfect gentleman. Isn’t that right, Lady Dare?”
A flush of red colored her cheekbones. “I’ve had enough of your insinuations, my lord. I told you last night how I feel about Lord Derrick. If you have doubts about my affections, why don’t you say so? I’d be more than happy to reassure you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you would, but then you have a history of lying, my dear, and about the most inconsequential things. Your name, for instance.”
Violet stared at him, her mouth working, but before she had a chance to say a word, Lady Westcott spoke, her tone matter-of-fact, as if everyone else in the carriage hadn’t just succumbed to hysterics. “I daresay you’re a bit distressed to see your new home in such a dilapidated state, but I can assure you, Lady Dare, despite the air of neglect, it’s a beautiful property. It takes its name from Ashdown Forest, you know, which lies just to the west of the estate, in the heart of the High Weald area.”
Violet blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “I, ah—I’m anxious to see it, my lady.”
“The house is Elizabethan,” Lady Westcott went on. “Quite comfortable, or it will be again once you and Nicholas take it in hand. Oh, and there are four acres of lovely gardens.”
Violet nodded politely, but she looked as if she didn’t know quite what to say to this recitation. “I—it sounds lovely.”
“Oh, it is. I grew up there, of course, just as Nicholas did, and it’s a wonderful house for children. My brother, the late Earl of Dare, and I used to run quite wild about the grounds, and it was the same for Nicholas and his brother Graham. Graham was two years older and a faster runner, but Nicholas was the better shot. It was Nicholas their father relied on to bring home braces of pheasants during the season.”
“That’s enough, Aunt.”
Nick’s voice was hard, with a note of warning underlying it, but if his aunt heard it, she chose to ignore it. “Hunting and fishing, and of course riding, especially Nicholas. Graham was the more studious of the two boys—always with his nose in a book—but Nicholas was too restless to sit still for long, and as a child he enjoyed riding above all things. I suspect that’s still true. Do you intend to ride a good deal while you’re here, my lord?”
“Stop it.” Nick struggled to pull breath into his lungs, to clear the sudden lump from his throat. “I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work.”
