They served dinner at last, and his promise held true. No blood apart from the roast had been drawn in the kitchen. Pierre produced a feast, the dessert as good as anything the prince’s pastry cook, Marie Antoine Carême, might have created.
After the meal, they retired to the drawing room where Carrie, seated decoratively at the piano, played the instrument well but with little passion, while Bella sang with exuberance and happily, in tune. Nicholas thoroughly enjoyed their performance and demanded an encore. He jumped up to join them and sang the male part of The Lass from Richmond Hill. Afterward, the governess made up a four for whist.
He and Bella won, which earned him a kiss on the cheek, for which Miss Scotsdale scolded her. Even Carrie laughed, making her brown eyes sparkle. It was perhaps the first time she’d been at ease and amused since she came here. Nicholas drew in a breath, struck by how lovely she was. The man who made her laugh would be a lucky fellow indeed.
Later, he entered his bedchamber, where Peterson, his valet, waited to assist him.
Nicholas removed his neckcloth. Tonight made him realize he enjoyed company. He must invite the neighbors to dinner more often.
He undid the buttons on his waistcoat. But most of those within driving distance were older and rather sedate. It was agreeable to have enthusiastic young people around him. They lifted his spirits. Not enough to want to marry and sire his own, however. He knew himself too well. He was incapable of loving a woman fiercely again. It would be dishonest to enter marriage knowing this unless his bride was of the same mind. A mediocre marriage out of necessity wasn’t for him. For what sort of life was that?
He’d told Max marriage wasn’t for everyone. And for what Nicholas had seen of some couples, it could be more hell than heaven. He loved his parents, but his childhood wasn’t a happy one. His father preferred hunting and gambling to his mother’s company. As a youth, Nicholas saw how unhappy she was. But it didn’t seem to concern his brother, Emory, who was more like his father. Nicholas favored his mother, who was bookish. She would have liked to study at university, but regrettably, that was not available to women.
Better to remain a bachelor and enjoy the peace and order it afforded him. He could continue with his treatise on the Napoleonic Wars.
The one matter which did trouble him was the necessity for sons. Without an heir, his cousin Eustice would inherit. Eustice had been prepared to step into Nicholas’s shoes when he went away to fight Napoleon and continued to show an interest in the estate’s running.
Bella and Carrie might have large broods. He could see himself at christenings and birthday dinners, then happily departing and returning to his quiet existence. He had not always felt this way, he acknowledged with a sad pang. Marriage had once been very much on his mind, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. These days he sought a like-minded woman for a pleasurable liaison, and after it ended amicably, was content to return alone to Elm Park.
As the mantel clock struck twelve, Nicholas dismissed his valet and climbed into bed. How much happier Carrie was tonight. When she laughed, her brown eyes were like deep, warm chocolate. He saw that having her here would be a distraction. But once she’d gone to London, he could settle down to his work. He hadn’t written a line since she came, and he disliked his routine being disrupted. He must return to it tomorrow: breakfast followed his ride, and then he worked from nine to twelve, with estate matters after luncheon. He yawned and blew out the candle. Things were working out better than he expected.
***
“Has the staff made you welcome?” Carrie asked her maid as she undressed.
“Yes, Miss Carrie.” Her eyes widened. “There was an argument in the kitchen. The chef yelled all these French words. Couldn’t understand a word of it, but it fair chilled my blood.”
“What is the housekeeper’s name, Anna?” Carrie had yet to meet her.
“There isn’t one. She was dismissed, apparently.”
A house the size of Elm Park could hardly function without one. “Why, what happened? Have they employed another?”
“I don’t know.”
Dismissed? Why? Positions such as this were very difficult to find. It seemed a cruel thing to do. Did the poor woman make a mistake? Carrie frowned. “Thank you, Anna. You may go.”
Carrie pushed her long plait over her shoulder and turned back to Bella, seated on a stool before the mirror. She picked up a brush and ran it through her sister’s hair.
Bella giggled. “Wasn’t it wonderful when Nicholas sang the duet with me?”
“He has a pleasant singing voice,” Carrie said begrudgingly, remembering his baritone and the unwelcome thrill it sent through her. Her fingers had fumbled over the keys, until with a quick breath, she’d doggedly continued. She hadn’t played her best, which annoyed her. His attractive demeanor made it difficult for her to keep her distance and remain wary of him, which she planned to do until quite sure of his character. There was that business with the housekeeper. And yet, she didn’t want to think ill of him. She struggled to understand her feelings. “I thought he was most unkind to the butler.” She tugged on a knot in Bella’s long locks.
“Ow! Do you think so? I laughed when he said we might eat cheese and biscuits for dinner. And he was such fun at whist.”
“Mm.”
“Lady Genevieve arrives tomorrow. I do hope you like her,” Bella said. The reflection of her eyes in the mirror searched Carrie’s.
“Of course, I will like her,” Carrie said. It would be so awkward if she didn’t. “It is extremely kind of her to chaperone me for
