No Other Love (34 page)

“I knew you would have—if only he hadn’t been in the way. It was all because of him. You were the only woman for me, the only woman I have ever loved! And that blackguard stole you from me!”

Deborah drew in her breath in a sharp hiss at his words. Nicola swung around. Deborah was pale, devastated by her husband’s harsh words.

“Richard?” she asked tremulously, like a lost child. Her eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over. “What do you mean? Did you never love me?”

“Oh, Christ!” Richard exclaimed in disgust, swinging out his hand and sending a vase toppling off a table. “Must you forever be mewling and whining? Of course I did not love you! Only a fool like you would have thought so! And
I
was a fool for having thought that you could replace her. Because you were her sister, I thought you must be like her, that you would have her wit and grace and spirit. I looked past all the insipid girlish airs and the foolish coquettry. When you were married to me, when you were older, I thought you would be like her. But you were not. You couldn’t even bear me an heir! You were useless! It didn’t even make her jealous.”

Tears streamed from Deborah’s eyes, and she brought her hands up to hide her face as, sobbing, she sank into a chair.

He turned to Nicola, saying bitterly, “Why didn’t you see what you had missed? I was sure you would regret your decision, would burn at seeing your sister have all the things that you could have had—money, Tidings, power!”

“I didn’t want those things. All I wanted was the man I loved,” Nicola replied fiercely. “You were a fool. You still are. Your wife is the only woman who loves you. Don’t you know that? Look at how you treat her!”

Richard glanced at Deborah’s huddled, weeping form and waved her away. “Do you think I care for that? She is a weak, sodden, missish girl. What do I care if she loves me? She isn’t you! It was always you—you who plagued my dreams, who drove me wild. You were the woman I loved. She was nothing but a bad substitute.”

“Love? You didn’t love me! You wouldn’t have the least idea how to love anyone. Your pride was wounded, perhaps. You were obsessed with the one thing you could not get by fair means or foul. That is the only reason why you wanted me. You didn’t love me. The only person you love is yourself!”

“I should have turned you over to the constable, too! I wish to God I had.”

“You would never do that. Then you wouldn’t have been able to hurt Jack again. You had to trick him into thinking that I had betrayed him, make him hate me again. You would never have passed up that opportunity just for the sake of putting me in gaol. You are evil, Richard. I know you, and you are black to the core.”

“Then leave!” he shouted. “Get out of my house. Go live with your beloved aunt—or maybe the Dowager Countess! You’re thick as thieves with her now, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry. I
am
leaving. I could not stay in the same house with you. You taint everything.” She turned toward her sister. “I am sorry, Deborah. I know I promised you I would stay with you. But I cannot. I cannot live under the same roof with this monster.”

She turned and started toward the door. Her sister’s voice stopped her.

“No, wait!” Nicola turned back. Deborah looked at Nicola pleadingly, holding out her hand. “Wait,” she said again. “I am leaving with you.”

I
F
N
ICOLA’S COUSIN AND AUNT
,
OR ANY OF
their assorted guests, found anything peculiar about Nicola, her sister and their former nurse arriving with a few bags of their clothes piled on top of the carriage just as the Buckminsters and their company were sitting down to breakfast, they were all far too polite to say so. Aunt Adelaide was in the midst of describing in great detail the matching pair that she was purchasing for her future daughter-in-law when the butler ushered in her two nieces, his perfectly even voice indicating none of the surprise he had felt when he saw Miss Falcourt and Lady Exmoor, both looking a trifle bedraggled, standing on the doorstep of Buckminster Hall.

Aunt Adelaide, her mind still on the horses, smiled with real pleasure and said, “Nicola! Deborah! Come in. Sit down. How wonderful to see you. Would you like breakfast? Huggins, lay another two places.”

“Thank you, Aunt, but no, please, if Deborah and I could just go to our rooms—that is—” Nicola broke off, glancing at the three guests awkwardly.

The two men, Lord Thorpe and Lord Lambeth, regarded them with British aplomb, not even raising an eyebrow at their sudden intrusion. The third person, Lady Thorpe, had been raised an American and was a great deal more forthright than the others. She stood up quickly, going over to the women.

“Nicola. Are you all right? What’s happened?” Alexandra was a tall woman, with a statuesque figure, a cloud of dark curling hair and one of the most beautiful faces in the country. She could present an imposing figure, especially given her often blunt speech and unreserved American ways. However, she also had a kind heart and a ready warmth, and now she curved her arm around Nicola’s shoulders, saying sympathetically, “You look all done in. I am sure you must need to rest.”

“Yes, of course,” Aunt Adelaide agreed. “You do look tired. No one’s in your old rooms. Huggins, take them up.”

“Thank you. I am sorry. I
would
like to rest, and Deborah is exhausted.” Deborah, who had gotten little sleep the night before, having spent it pacing and worrying about her sister, and who had cried all the way over to Buckminster Hall in the carriage, was slumped against Nicola.

“Of course. Here, I’ll help you,” Alexandra said. With her usual efficiency, she took over, hustling the other women upstairs and putting them to bed, introducing herself to Deborah as she did so and carefully avoiding any prying questions about their disheveled appearance.

Once Alexandra had Deborah settled in her old room, with Nurse to care for her, she took Nicola to her room and helped her out of her dress and into bed, sending the maid for a pitcher of water and a glass, as well as a bite of breakfast. Then she sat down on the bed beside Nicola and looked her in the eye.

“What happened? It’s Exmoor, isn’t it? What has he done this time?”

Alexandra was not as close a friend to Nicola as Penelope or Marianne. Although she was Marianne’s sister and the Countess’s granddaughter, she had arrived in England only a few months ago. During the time that Nicola had met Marianne, Alexandra had been on her honeymoon in Europe with Sebastian. However, she had a friendly, frank way that put Nicola at ease, and Nicola suspected that if she spent any time around her, she would grow to like her as much as she liked Marianne. She was also not one to mince words about a topic, a quality that Nicola admired. Alexandra went straight to the heart of a matter.

Nicola found herself pouring out the entire story of what had happened, starting with her love for the stable boy and Richard’s wicked interference. When she reached the part about the highwayman, Alexandra exclaimed, “The highwayman?
Our
highwayman?”

Nicola stared. “That is what Marianne said. How is he your highwayman?”

“He helped Thorpe and me. Remember that balloon ride we got trapped on? He was the one who gave us shelter that night.” She grinned impishly. “Of course, he managed to take Thorpe’s wallet, too, which I don’t think he has yet forgiven. We had to ride the mail coach all the way back to London.”

Nicola smiled, tears suddenly springing to her eyes. “That sounds like Jack. Oh, Alexandra, what am I to do? I love him! And he’s in gaol—and he despises me, anyway!”

“Well, tell me the rest of the story. How did he wind up in gaol? I warrant that was Richard’s doing.”

“Of course. He hates him.” Nicola explained how Richard had tricked her into betraying Jack’s location and Jack’s assumption that she had meant to do it.

“What a coil,” Alexandra said, when Nicola had finally wound down. “Well, I will make sure that Bucky goes over to this magistrate today and pleads your highwayman’s case. I’ll send Lambeth and Thorpe, as well, for they both owe him for what he has done for them. Three lords ought to intimidate a squire, don’t you think?”

Nicola smiled. “I am sure they will.”

Alexandra smiled back and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry. I will get right on it. You just get some sleep. You’ll see. It will all look better when you have had some rest.”

N
ICOLA DID FEEL BETTER WHEN SHE
awoke that afternoon. She was at least rested. However, the sleep had done nothing for her anxiety over Jack, and she dressed quickly, sweeping her hair up into a simple bun, and went downstairs to see what Bucky had been able to accomplish.

She found him down in the formal drawing room, along with all the others. Marianne and Penelope had come over, having learned that Bucky’s group had arrived. Marianne was happily ensconced next to her fiancé, her blue eyes glowing and her hand tucked into his. Lambeth, a handsome man with blond hair and cool gray eyes, was obviously entranced by her. Penelope, shyer and more reserved, contented herself with looking at Bucky lovingly.

Alexandra, sitting beside her dark, sardonic Thorpe, was obviously teasing the lovebirds with all the worldliness of a woman married three months. When she saw Nicola in the doorway she smiled, saying, “Come in, Nicola, and save us from all this prenuptial bliss.”

“As if you didn’t still turn all gooey and glowing whenever Sebastian comes into the room,” her sister Marianne retorted good-naturedly. “Hello, Nicola. It’s good to see you again.”

There were all the greetings to get through, but Nicola was interested in only one thing, and when at last she had said hello to everyone in the room, she turned to Bucky, her eyes intent on his face. “Well? Did you talk to the magistrate? What did he say?”

Bucky looked uncomfortable. “Frankly…it wasn’t good. I pressed him, Nicola. So did Justin and Sebastian. Thing is, Exmoor’s out for the man’s blood. He is adamant about keeping him in gaol and charging him. Poor Halsey’s too scared of Exmoor to thwart him. Well, Richard is the wealthiest and most powerful landowner hereabouts. I am only a baron, not an earl, you know, and our lands are not as extensive. And Justin and Sebastian aren’t local, so even though Justin’s a marquess and all, his pleas don’t weigh as much with the local magistrate. I am sorry, Nicky. Normally I think Halsey would let him out despite his crimes if Mother and I asked him to, but with Exmoor watching him like a hawk, he doesn’t dare.”

“I hate that man!” Nicola exclaimed with venom. “Richard doesn’t even deserve to live. It is shameful that he can have so much control over other people’s lives!” She whirled and began to pace the room.

Marianne and Alexandra glanced at each other and Penelope worriedly. All of them hated to see their friend so forlorn, and it seemed especially awful in the face of their own great happiness. Penelope rose and went to her friend.

“Nicola…”

Nicola turned. “No, I’m all right. You cannot do anything for me. I am not in despair. I know what I have to do.” Her face was set and grim, her gray eyes blazing with determination.

“Nicky?” The look on her face unnerved Penelope. “What do you mean? What do you have to do?”

“Set him free,” Nicola replied evenly. “If influence won’t do it, then I have to use a more direct route.”

“Nicola! You’re going to get him out of gaol? But how? That’s illegal!”

“As if I care for that. I’m not sure how, just yet. I have to think about it.”

“Nicola!” Penelope looked toward the others for help. “Marianne, tell her.”

“Well,” Marianne said reasonably, “I can’t see what else she can do, really.”

“Marianne!” The redhead shrugged. “I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. If Justin were in gaol, that is what I would do.”

Alexandra nodded. “Me too.”

“Alexandra!”

“Wouldn’t you? If Bucky were facing certain hanging?” Penelope looked at her for a moment. “Well…yes. But it’s so dangerous.”

“Quite right,” Lambeth spoke up. “We can’t have Nicola dashing about breaking into gaol.”

Penelope turned toward him gratefully. “There. You see?”

“So I shall do it,” Lambeth continued calmly.

“What?” Nicola turned to him. “But you—why?”

“The man saved Marianne’s life. Mine, too. I promised him then that if I could ever do him a good turn, I would. I certainly can’t turn my back on him, and I hardly think talking to a magistrate discharges me from my obligation to him.”

Marianne looked at him, a worried frown on her face, and Nicola thought that Marianne would exclaim that he could not do it. Instead, she said, “But it is dangerous. You should not do it alone. I will go with you.”

“You?” Lambeth’s brows drew together thunderously. “Absolutely not. You are staying right here. I shall need an alibi, and you can provide it.”

“But you cannot go alone—” Nicola began.

“He won’t be alone,” Lord Thorpe put in. “I shall go with him. I owe the man, too. It will be much better with two of us.”

“Three,” Alexandra corrected him calmly. “I dare swear I am as good a shot as either of you, and I certainly am not letting you go without me.”

“Nor I,” Marianne agreed. “We shall all four go.”

Sebastian and Justin immediately burst into protests, and Bucky and Penelope chimed in, unwilling to let their friends go without them. The next thirty minutes were spent in fruitless argument over who should and should not go, until finally Thorpe let out a roar that silenced everyone.

“All right,” he said, when everyone fell silent and turned toward him. “Now. Lambeth, I have learned through bitter experience that there is no stopping Alexandra once she has made up her mind. I dare swear her sister is the same way.”

Lambeth scowled. “Yes. She definitely is.”

“I might as well tell you that I am, as well,” Nicola spoke up. “Jack is the man I love, and I am the one who is responsible for his getting caught. There is no way on earth that I am going to let you go rescue him without me.”

“Oh, the devil take it!” Bucky exclaimed. “We shall all go. We’ll be a bloody gang.”

It took some talking after that, but finally it was agreed upon and a plan worked out. Marianne and Alexandra would provide the distraction for the gaoler. Lambeth and Thorpe would do the actual entering of the gaol and releasing of the prisoners. Nicola, much to her dismay, had to be content with riding with the men and standing watch, holding their horses. They would be masked, but her form was unmistakably feminine, and her presence at the gaol would be a dead giveaway if anyone saw them. Penelope and Bucky, in the meantime, would provide the alibi for the entire group. They would make sure that the Countess and Lady Ursula, Penelope’s mother, went to dinner with Lady Buckminster, getting them out of the Dower House. Then Penelope and Bucky would have a dinner at the Dower House, with the collusion of one or two trusted servants, which they would pretend was attended by all of them.

Nicola wanted to do it that evening. She could not get Jack out of gaol fast enough. However, they all agreed that it would have to wait until the following night. It would take a while to arrange for the Countess and Lady Ursula to be out of the house, and that was an essential part of the plan. So, finally, Nicola agreed to wait.

She managed to get through the rest of the day. She and the other women persuaded Aunt Adelaide to invite the Countess and her daughter Ursula for a dinner and card party the next evening, which was not a difficult task. To further move things along, Nicola offered to pen the invitation for her aunt, one of the many social obligations her aunt disliked. After that, there was little she could do. It would be up to Penelope and Marianne, who were staying at the Dower House, to get things set up with the servants there. And Thorpe, whose servants were intensely loyal—and handier in a fight than run-of-the-mill servants—would have his coachman arrange for the extra horses for the escapees.

The only thing left that Nicola could do was to visit Jack in gaol. They agreed that it would be helpful if Jack and his men knew that rescue was on the way, so that they would be ready to run. Nicola was the only person among the group who was known to be acquainted with the highwayman. It would be better if there was no hint that either Lambeth or Thorpe knew him.

So early the next morning Nicola set out for the village gaol. She was greeted with astonishment by the constable, who was sitting with the gaoler in the large front room.

“Miss Falcourt! What are you doing here? This isn’t a fit place for a lady.”

“I have come to see the prisoner. Jack Moore.”