She looked startled that he'd agreed, but masked it quickly. "I don't want to hear your excuses. Nothing can excuse the way you treated me." Her eyes became suspiciously bright. "Leave me alone," she demanded, and tried to free her hand.
When he held her firm, she brought the heel of her slipper down on his instep and jerked away at the same time, immediately fleeing to the ladies' retiring room.
He hurried after her, indifferent to the scene. At the doorway, he accosted the squat matron standing attendance.
"Does this room have another way out?" he barked.
"Really, Stanhope, the nerve--"
"Does it or not?" he ground out.
"Yes!"
He ran out the patio doors and along the side of the building to find the door to the retiring room. He didn't have to look for long before he saw Nicole, skirts hiked, barreling out into the street. He had to smile. Even dressed like royalty, underneath she was his irrepressible Nicole. His heavy footfalls echoed on the street as he gained on her.
Until she reached Mayfair, turned a corner, and ran directly up the front steps of what had to be the largest mansion on the square.
Derek stared, marveling at the luxurious home. How had Nicole ever gotten comfortable in this place dripping with money? He followed up the steps and banged the massive brass knocker, waiting impatiently until an elderly butler answered.
"I would like to see...Lady Christina."
"My lady does not receive visitors at this hour," he answered on a whistling breath. "Would you care to leave a card?"
"No, I want to see her."
The man shuffled his feet. "My lady does not receive--"
"So be it," Derek interrupted, easily pushing past the old man, only to be greeted by two huge footmen who did not look happy. Wasn't that a measure of status, how large your footmen were? If so, he thought as they grabbed his arms, it would appear the marchioness was doing exceedingly well. He was fighting to shake them off when a dull thump sounded from the second floor.
She was there, rising with the book she'd just dropped. Her hand flew over her mouth until she yanked it to her side. The two footmen also turned to the noise, so Derek was able to steal a fleeting look at her. She'd risen to her full height, standing proudly and acting unconcerned.
A corner of his lip quirked up. She was his. The fact that she didn't even realize she would be married to him within a fortnight made him grin. He smiled even as the two men were shoving him out the doors.
"Look for me, Nicole," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be everywhere you are until you agree to talk to me. This is just beginning."
Chapter 27
E arly the next morning, Derek gulped down coffee, eager to ride to Atworth House, but his mother stopped him. "I need to talk to you."
He shook his head. "It can wait."
She maneuvered in front of him. "No! It can't."
He scowled at her, but she was undeterred. "I want to tell you that there's no excuse for your behavior last night. Manhandling Lady Christina like that! I saw you force her onto the balcony. I saw her trying to get away from you. I know you've been through a lot, but you have to start taking responsibility for your actions. Nothing can excuse your behavior."
"She's Nicole Lassiter."
Amanda frowned, then made a choking sound. "Wh-what? You can't be serious," she cried. "She's the little wharf rat you've been mooning over since you got back? That's impossible!"
"She spent months on my ship. I think I'd recognize her."
Grant came bounding down the stairs. "Who spent months on your ship?" he asked, pouring himself coffee at the sideboard.
"I believe we are speaking of Lady Christina," Amanda supplied in an uneven voice.
Grant frowned. "Lady Christina--"
"Is Nicole Lassiter," Amanda finished.
Grant looked as though he was choking on laughter. "Lady Christina is Lassiter's daughter? You're marrying Lassiter's daughter?" He shook his head and chuckled.
"If she'll have me."
"You'll be related to her father forever," Grant pointed out, wiping his eyes. "How will you handle that?"
With a pained expression, Derek said, "I will do what I have to do."
Amanda broke in, "These might all be empty musings--she doesn't exactly appear matrimonially bent on you."
"She found out I was married."
"Wait, I was there," Grant said. "Lydia slithered up to Lady Christina and explained that she was the countess of Stanhope."
Lydia and Nicole together? "What was Nicole's reaction?"
"She fainted dead away."
Derek ran a hand over his face. Christ, he would have spared her that. He had to see her and explain.
Amanda put her hand on his forearm. "Derek, listen to me. I don't know everything that's happened, but you can't just run off like this."
"Like what?"
Grant was clearly pleased to answer, "You missed a spot shaving, and your boots don't match."
He scowled down at his boots but continued to the door.
"Whatever has happened between you and the girl doesn't make it right to go to Atworth House looking like that."
He could admit that he hadn't gotten very far in the planning stage, since he'd been floored by finally finding her. But he...missed her, and knowing she wasn't even a mile away was making him crazed.
"I've waited long enough."
"Has she?" Amanda asked.
"What do you mean by that?"
"If she is Nicole Lassiter, has she had time enough to recover from your abandonment?"
"I'm going--"
"Very well. I see my advice is neither wanted nor needed," she snapped. "I'm returning to Whitestone."
Grant pointed out, "There are several weeks left in the season."
"It doesn't matter," she said tartly, never taking her eyes from Derek's face. "I refuse to stay here when you're acting like this. I at least want to have the excuse of not being here when you embarrass yourself further."
As Derek walked out the door, he heard her exhale loudly and say, "Love has turned him into a fool. Grant, I'll throttle you if you behave like this."
When Derek stood once again on the doorstep of Atworth House, he knocked, and after several minutes, the same wheezing butler answered.
The man masked his surprise when Derek demanded, "I want to see Nicole."
He took a loud, deep breath and announced, "She is not in at the moment."
Derek smiled as he looked down. When he raised his head, his expression was neutral. "It is seven in the morning."
"Nevertheless, she is not in at the moment."
"You're going to tell me this no matter how often I come here today, aren't you?"
He detected a slight nod just as the man said, "She's not in--"
With a raised hand, Derek shook his head. "I get the point."
Deciding not to wrangle with the footmen again, he nodded to the butler and walked down the steps. As soon as the door closed, Derek turned toward the back of the mansion, where he'd spotted an ivy-covered garden wall. He held his breath as he pushed down the latch on the gate, but it opened easily. He walked in and approached the back of the house. As soon as he stood at the steps to the terrace, he saw her.
Early though it was, Nicole sat at a veranda table under falling cherry blossoms, absently tapping the tip of a strawberry against her bottom lip and ignoring the steaming tea service and newspaper in front of her. She looked out over the magnificent garden, but was lost in thought, unseeing.
Nicole leaned back in her chair, replaying the events of the previous night. Sutherland hadn't asked for forgiveness, hadn't even asked her to marry him. He'd simply decreed it so. Again, against her expectations, the tears refused to flow.
She didn't understand what possessed the man to behave as he did. Audacious and arrogant weren't strong enough words to describe him. Outrage spilled through her. All those late-night imaginings of him on one knee begging forgiveness--yet he just expect
ed them to retie what he had so callously severed.
As if she would marry him! She had a slew of suitors, suitors who had propped up her failing pride. She'd choose one who'd give her a nice, sedate life. She could make it work. Though not if Sutherland continued his antics. Strange how all those years her grandmother had worried about Nicole's behavior in the ton, and now a renegade earl was about to ruin her.
Suddenly, she froze. Out of the corner of her eye, near the house, she could see--no, it couldn't be him. She turned. Sutherland!