Blackwood's Lady

‘No, I do not need more time, Lord Blackwood,’ Nicola replied. ‘What more could a lady ask than to be given the assurance that she will be well taken care of, and blessed with a family to love and to care for? Yes, I will marry you.’

David stared at her. ‘You will?’

‘Yes. And I thank you for asking.’

It was not until that moment that David realized how much he had been hoping that Nicola would agree to his proposal. So much so that, when he smiled, Nicola caught her breath at the change it wrought in his appearance. It made him appear younger, and so much more…approachable. She was hardly to know that it was a smile which only a few close friends and family members were ever privileged enough to see.

‘I think it is I who should be thanking you… Nicola,’ David whispered. He leaned forward to brush a kiss against her cheek, and noticed, for the first time, how very sweet was the fragrance that surrounded her. ‘You have made me a very happy man. And now shall we call your father back in and give him the news?’

‘Wait…before you do, there is…something I should like to ask you.’

‘You may ask of me anything you wish, my dear.’

The endearment caused the strangest flutter in the pit of Nicola’s stomach, but she forced herself to concentrate on what she had to say. ‘My lord, I was wondering…how do you feel about…animals?’

Chapter Two

Animals? David glanced at Nicola sharply as a memory of her father’s earlier words about the mighty buck suddenly sprang to mind. ‘I take it you are referring to…pets.’

Nicola paused for a moment. Was she? In truth, Alistair was as endearing as the two black puppies, so she was not telling him a complete falsehood. And Guinevere was extremely well behaved…for a falcon.

She smiled with what she hoped was conviction. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

‘Then rest assured I have no objection to your keeping pets,’ David said as the vision of the mighty buck was replaced by that of a small, fluffy lap-dog. ‘In fact, I have several dogs of my own.’

Nicola’s smile faded. ‘Foxhounds?’

‘Sheepdogs, actually. Big, lumbering brutes, but as gentle as kittens. Have you a dog of your own, perhaps, that you would like to bring to Ridley Hall?’

‘I recently acquired two puppies,’ Nicola told him, avoiding, for a moment, any reference to the other members of the menagerie, ‘which I believe to be about six weeks old.’

‘And you would prefer not to leave them here.’

‘I confess, I have grown rather attached to them.’

‘Then by all means bring them along. They will make admirable company for my own. What breed are they?’

‘Spaniels.’

David began to smile. ‘Didn’t get them from old Lord Hartley by chance, did you?’

Nicola shook her head sadly. ‘I found them down by the river. I was…too late to save the rest of the litter.’

‘Too late to—’ Abruptly, David broke off as he realized what she was saying. ‘Oh, I see. Not purebred, then.’

Nicola raised wide green eyes to his face. ‘No, they are not, but surely that is no reason for doing away with them in such a cruel and heartless manner.’

‘It would be to a man like Hartley.’

Nicola flinched at Blackwood’s offhand reply. ‘Would it be reason enough for you, my lord?’

David hesitated, sensing the need to tread carefully with his new fiancée on what was obviously a very delicate subject. ‘I have never been one for the indiscriminate taking of life, Nicola, but I can understand the rationale behind a man taking certain precautions to ensure the purity of the line.’

‘Then I suggest he should have taken more care in the breeding of the dog in the first place,’ Nicola said heatedly, well aware that animal husbandry was an inappropriate subject for a gently reared lady to be discussing.

It seemed that Lord Blackwood was in complete agreement. ‘Well, I think that is enough said about the subject. You are welcome to bring the dogs along, Nicola, whatever their…parentage. Now, shall we call your father in and give him the good news?’

There was a slight reserve to his tone and, realizing that it would serve no useful purpose to protest further, Nicola graciously acquiesced. She did not wish to anger David over someone else’s shortcomings, nor did she see that there was anything to be gained by doing so. It was enough that he was agreeable to her bringing her puppies along. And so, with a smile upon her face, Nicola rose with David to greet her father and to share their happy news with him.

It was not until some time later, as Nicola watched her fiancé disappear down the drive in his gleaming black and gold carriage, that she had time to think back over the events of the past hour and to marvel at how significantly her life had changed. She was now the fiancée of the Marquis of Blackwood. Quite an achievement in a society where matches were made solely for the betterment of financial or social standing.

But what kind of life had she committed herself to? Nicola wondered silently. She was not in love with David, nor he with her. But her father approved of the match, and she respected Lord Blackwood for the man she knew him to be. Was that not reason enough to accept his offer?

Not really, Nicola admitted to herself on a sigh. And she wouldn’t have, had it not been for that brief and totally unexpected moment of softening, when David had spoken to her with humility in his voice and just a trace of wistfulness in his eye. Almost as though he regretted that theirs would not be a marriage of two hearts.

That was what had changed her mind about Lord Blackwood, and made her look at him differently. Maybe he did care about the importance of feelings between two people, Nicola decided charitably. Maybe he wasn’t the staid, reserved aristocrat that most people accused him of being. Maybe it was simply that no one had ever taught the very upright Lord Blackwood how to laugh.

The announcement of the engagement of the Marquis of Blackwood to the Lady Nicola Wyndham duly appeared in The Times the following week, and, as Sir Giles had predicted, there arose from the marriageable ladies of the ton—or, rather, from their mamas—a sigh of disappointment that could be heard from one end of London to the other. From one drawing room in the country, however, there was only the sound of delighted laughter as the good news was received and celebrated.

‘Well, my dear, you have certainly achieved the match of the season!’ Glynnis, Lady Dorchester, told her niece in a tone of supreme satisfaction. ‘And I, for one, could not be happier. I had begun to despair of Blackwood ever settling down. Lord knows, he has been as slippery as an eel these past few years. But, without even trying, you have caught him in your net and brought him home. Well done, my dear, well done!’

‘Thank you, Aunt Glynn, although I don’t know that he is any the less elusive now,’ Nicola told her aunt with a smile. ‘He merely slipped in long enough to propose before slipping right out again. I have not seen him this sennight.’

‘Well, that is not such a bad thing,’ said Lady Dorchester complacently. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know.’

‘Perhaps, but it would have been nice had Lord Blackwood stayed around long enough to give me something to grow fond of,’ Nicola observed dryly. ‘I can hardly miss a man I know nothing about.’

Lady Dorchester glanced at her niece shrewdly. ‘I take it this is not a love match, then?’

‘Oh, dear, no, far from it.’ Nicola laughed as she recalled the wording of the marquis’s proposal. ‘Lord Blackwood was very straightforward when it came to telling me exactly what he expected in the future marchioness.’

‘And that is?’

‘A sensible woman not prone to giddiness, frivolity or…unacceptable behaviour I believe was how he phrased it. He also assured me that he would be a good husband and father, and that I would want for nothing.’

‘Admirable sentiments, to my way of thinking.’

‘And Papa believes it to be an advantageous match.’

‘And so it is, my dear!’ Lady Dorchester agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Lord Blackwood is one of the wealthiest men in London, not to mention one of the most handsome. I admit, he may not be as light-hearted as some of the gentlemen his age, but then, he has always been something of a serious lad, and he grew even more so after his dear mother died. He never really took to his father’s second wife, you see. Rumour has it that he blamed her for his father’s death.’

‘Oh, dear, I had no idea,’ Nicola said, biting her lip. ‘But I know so little of Lord Blackwood.’

‘Which is hardly surprising, given your extended absence from Town,’ Lady Dorchester said. ‘However, we cannot overlook the fact that you have been extremely fortunate, Nicki. And I feel sure that once Lord Blackwood is happily married you will see a considerable change in his disposition. So, when and where is the wedding to take place?’

‘I’m not sure. Lord Blackwood mentioned having the ceremony at the family chapel at Ridley Hall, but I rather had my heart set on St Andrew’s, where Mama and Papa were married. Unfortunately, he had to return to London before we were able to come to a decision.’

‘Well, no doubt you shall be able to settle it the next time he comes to Wyndham. Now, we must start making plans for your betrothal ball. And I will not take no for an answer,’ Lady Dorchester said firmly, as Nicola went to object. ‘Your father and I have already discussed it, and he has assured me of his complete cooperation. That is why we are going to hold the ball at Wyndham rather than here at Doring Cross. Given the number of people I intend to invite, Doring would hardly be large enough.’