Nicholas cared nothing for Lord Ayles but to learn the man was dead left him stunned.
“You see,” Lady Ayles continued, “Lord Tulk is a dear friend of Father’s and is well aware of Father’s wishes. Therefore, he asked me to accompany him to the ball. When he mentioned it was to take place at the home of Lord Dowding, how could I refuse?”
The pounding in his head had worsened, and Nicholas found himself at a loss for words. Lady Ayles was the last person in whose company he wished to be. Yet if Lord Tulk wished for her to attend the ball as his guest, any refusal on Nicholas’s part would only draw suspicion and ire from the marquess. Oh, but this woman could send his very life spiraling out of control!
Lady Ayles placed a hand on his chest. “Lord Tulk asked me about you, you know. I told him you are a good man, one with whom I was… close.”
Nicholas grabbed her hand and pushed it away. “Don’t touch me.”
She pushed out her lower lip. “You were once a gentleman, Nicholas. One who would never have allowed a lady to suffer from the cold but rather would invite her inside. Surely, you have not changed that much?”
With an aggravated sigh, Nicholas took a step aside. There was no choice. Any refusal would only hurt his progress with Tulk. “Please,” he said through clenched teeth, “come in from the cold. I would hate to see you suffer. Perhaps you would like to warm up by the fire.”
And perhaps I’ll want to push you into it!
No, that was untrue. No matter how far they were divided, no matter how much she had hurt him, he could not wish her harm. She was manipulative, that much was true, but he was not the same young man he was all those years ago.
Lady Ayles must not have caught the sarcasm in his tone, for she smiled as he took her coat and said, “I would also welcome a glass of wine.”
Nicholas clenched his fist as she turned to face him. With her long coal-black hair and blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean, he had once thought her the most beautiful creature on earth. He had even imagined a life with her at his side. But he had been naive at the time. He no longer had the attraction to her that had once obsessed him.
“My sapphire?” she said in a sultry tone as she pointed to the heavy pendant that hung from a silver chain and lay precariously close to her cleavage. “Do you like it? Miles gifted it to me before he died.”
“How nice for you,” Nicholas said flatly. He led her to the parlor and directed her to the couch. “I’ll pour the wine.”
“Just a small amount for me, please,” she said in that sickly sweet tone that had once heated his skin as easily as the fire that roared in the nearby fireplace.
He had once thought her an enchantress he could parade on his arm for all the world to see. It was not long, however, before he realized what lay beneath the surface was unattractive.
He poured her a glass of wine and himself a brandy, and soon they were facing one another with the drinks in their hands.
“I see you’ve gotten through your grief rather quickly,” he said as he motioned to her bare finger. “I had thought you would mourn for years.”
Lady Ayles took a sip of her wine before setting it aside. “Don’t be petty, Nicholas. It’s unbecoming of you. Of course, I did not grieve. Miles spent most of his time gambling and drinking, so much so that he had little time for me. He was a vile, hateful man with more mistresses than the docks in Dover have ships. But it no longer matters. I receive a very healthy allowance, and we had no children, thank goodness. And now my life is left to do with it as I please.”
Nicholas swallowed his brandy in one gulp and refilled his glass, wishing she would leave. “Why are you here, Jane? I’m sure you’ve attended some of the best balls and parties the aristocracy has to offer. So, what do you find so appealing about this small affair I’m hosting here in Chatsworth?”
She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Oh, Nicholas, you were always so… provincial. Questioning everything everyone does. You must stop being so priggish.”
“Priggish? Seeing the woman with whom I’m romantically involved flirting with another man makes me priggish? The very man you chose over me after insisting I was the one who pushed you away?”
His thoughts returned to that day Lady Ayles and her lady’s maid had called over to Rosling Estate several days following the funeral of his father. Her words were few and to the point. She would marry another, one of better title. One who would provide more for her than he ever could.
“After all these years, you’re still angry with me?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise. “Can you not forgive me for doing what I thought was best for me?”
Finishing off the last of his brandy, Nicholas stood. “When a couple is courting, they are supposed to do what is best for them. But you never cared about us. Only you.”
Lady Ayles bounded from her chair. “But—”
Nicholas raised a hand to forestall her. “I don’t regret what we once had, Jane, for it taught me what to look for in a lady. Or rather, what to be wary of.”
She narrowed her eyes for only a moment before placing a playful smile on her lips. Taking two small steps forward, she touched his arm. “I’ll not accept that. You’ll see that I’ve changed.”
Nicholas shook his head. “Whether you did makes little difference. I am interested in another.” He had meant it as a lie, but an image of Miss Clifton came to mind. “You’re too late. And after the ball, we’ll part ways and, hopefully, never see one another again.”
Lady Ayles laughed, her hand moving up and down his arm in a much too familiar manner. “Oh, I doubt that,” she whispered. He grabbed her hand, and she raised an eyebrow. “Whatever plans you have for Lord Tulk,” she said, “I fear it’s not in his best interest. I know you far too well, Nicholas. You’re up to something. Don’t deny it.”
Schooling his features to calm, he said, “I’m hosting a ball, Jane, nothing more.”