Sweet Bravado (10 page)

“Cold, my dear? Here, let me adjust this rug.” Valentin tucked her in carefully.

“Thank you,” she murmured as the carriage pulled out of the courtyard.

An uncomfortable silence enveloped both of them. What did one say at a time like this?

“I sent your maid and my valet on ahead. They should have everything in hand by the time we arrive.” Valentin spoke first.

“That was thoughtful of you,” Nicole replied.

They lapsed into silence again.

“I… I did not expect so many people,” Nicole tried to bridge the gap in conversation, “even though your mother indicated that
it would be a large gathering.”

“Most of the guests were relatives or friends who were already in Paris.” He yawned and stretched himself. “Lord, but my head
is splitting. I shouldn’t have stayed out so late last night.”

“You were celebrating last night?”

“Danforth had quite a send-off for me. It was a rousing good time… but then that is not for a lady’s ears.”

She shot him a searching glance that stopped him from further confidences. “Never mind that, however… this is our wedding
night.” He slipped his arm through hers. His touch had an incredible effect on her, yet her fears of the night ahead made
her uneasy and her apprehension increased as the distance to the chateau lessened.

“At last,” he sighed as they arrived at their destination.

It was a relief to him to have this awkward journey come to an end. He assisted her from the coach, and as they reached the
doorway, he swept her into his arms.

“What… what are you doing?”

“I believe that it is customary,” he said stepping through the doorway.

“But… that is on entering one’s own home for the first time.”

“Oh, you see I am not up on such things, but I shall remember for later. Where do we dine, Henri?” Valentin questioned the
waiting butler.

“In the white salon, your lordship.”

“Put me down,” Nicole whispered.

“Why? I rather fancy you in my arms.” He proceeded to carry her up the stairs.

“The servants will think you are drunk.”

“Not much, madame.” And he kept her in his arms until he placed her on her feet in the white salon. “Well, look about you,
my dear; I would say Uncle Maurice has outdone himself.”

The high-ceilinged room was a mass of white flowers, and the mingled fragrance of roses and lilacs wafted gently through the
soft light of descending dusk. A branch of glowing candles lighted a small table laid with shimmering silver and crystal.
The white satin draperies at the long casement windows were embroidered in silver thread, and the whole scene was one of quiet
luxury. It followed well after the hectic crush of the wedding celebrations.

“Champagne?” Valentin, offered.

Nicole refused.

“You must join me in a toast.” He poured two glasses and came to stand beside her. “Here, my love.” He handed her the glass,
then led her toward the table laid with a light supper of cold chicken and lobster. “To our future.”

Nicole smiled at him uncertainly.

“Don’t look so dubious,” Valentin laughed. “Remember what I told you once before. We are not resigned to
our fate; we Harcourts make it.” He touched his glass to hers and drank deeply. Nicole sipped hers lightly.

Henri appeared at that moment to serve supper. Valentin continued to fill his glass until Nicole found herself saying, “Valentin,
don’t you think you have had enough?”

“Never fear, madame, I still retain my faculties.” He paused considering her. “Would you care to retire now?”

The question startled her.

“I shall come to you shortly.” He rose.

There seemed to be no alternative but to follow his lead. He held the door open for her as she passed through it.

In her room the maid chattered lightly about the wedding as she helped Nicole out of her traveling suit and into her nightgown
of flowing white satin. She brushed Nicole’s silky dark hair straight down her back and tied a pink ribbon through it.

“Thank you, Margot, you may go.”

“Yes madame, and may I…”

“No, no, please say nothing.” Nicole’s agitation was increasing by the minute. She took a few turns about the room, mumbling
to herself incoherently and then threw off her peignoir and slipped into the waiting large bed. It seemed an eternity, but
finally she heard footsteps advancing down the corridor and the door to the outer chamber clicked open. She heard the Hessians
fall to the floor, and then he was standing in the doorway, his jacket unfastened. He seemed to sway a little as he advanced
across the room, and seated himself on the edge of the bed. She could not look at him but kept her eyes downcast. He was studying
her as his fingers touched her hair and released the ribbon holding it. Slowly his hand slid down her shoulder and slipped
off the straps of her nightgown. She stiffened slightly.

“Beautiful,” he murmured clasping her to himself. “Relax, my sweet.” Finding her lips he kissed her slowly, moving himself
the length of her body.

She tried to relax, but as his kisses became more insistent, she began to pull away. He pinned her down with the full weight
of his body, and now she began to struggle. He continued to murmur endearments, but his hands and body became more demanding.
“You go too fast, my lord,” she whispered frantically. He restrained himself with a shudder’ and raised his head to gaze searchingly
into her eyes. In moments he divested himself of his clothing and extinguished the candle.

“Give yourself to me, Nicole. Don’t be frightened, I will show you the way. There is no going back now.” And with a groan
he clamped his mouth to hers again.

Finally the storm of his passion subsided, and she lay quietly in his arms. He had hurt her, but she did not care since he
had sealed her as his own in the white heat of his passion, and she was glad. She now belonged to him completely. Her own
ardor had not broken the bonds of maidenly training, but she was not troubled by this for she had yet to discover the depths
of her own passion.

Gradually Valentin’s breath grew even and she lay quietly in the crook of his arm, his lips resting on her hair. “Darling,”
he whispered, “my sweet.” A rush of love welled up in her so powerfully Nicole felt she must drown in the rapture of it. A
little more and Valentin’s deep breathing showed that he was sleeping peacefully. She moved to adjust herself to him, and
he stirred and mumbled, “Tessa.”

Nicole stiffened.
Tessa!
She felt herself choked with dismay. Had Valentin been too drunk to realize he was making love to her and not Tessa? He had
called her Nicole during his lovemaking, but now, in his sleep, he
called for his mistress. Oh God, and she had thought he loved her, when all along it was Tessa who held the secret place in
his heart. What a fool she was. It was all pretense. What did a man of the world want with an inexperienced girl? Fool! Fool!
Fool! And she had cherished a dream of him all these years when really she was nothing to him.

Once again he mumbled an endearment caressing her and letting his head fall upon her shoulder. Nicole could have cried out
with anguish in her need to get away from him. In a while his arm relaxed its hold on her, and she slid carefully out of the
bed. She shivered and searched in the darkness for her peignoir. Stumbling blindly until she found the divan, she threw herself
onto it in a miserable huddle of grief and despair to wait the coming of dawn. In the first faint light of the emerging day,
she struggled into her clothes and left the room.

The Viscount woke to find the bed empty. Remorse overcame him. Damn! Why had he drunk so much last night? His indistinct recollection
was of Nicole’s timid response to his passion, and Valentin was filled with a yearning tenderness for her. He hoped he had
not frightened her unduly by being too forceful. He had better go to find her at once. Perhaps he should apologize for his
lack of control.

Valentin found Nicole seated at the breakfast table, an empty coffee cup before her. The dark look she gave him did not augur
well, but he plunged ahead.

“Good morning, my love, I see you are an early riser.”

She did not answer him.

He hesitated, then continued, “Nicole, sweetheart, look at me.”

Still she was silent.

“If I… last night… if I offended you, I…”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. She was certain he was going to mention his mistress’s name again, and that she could
not bear.

“There is no need for pretense, my lord. We are neither of us children. We are both aware that this is not a love match but
a marriage of convenience.”

Her words caught him off guard. What point was she making with this talk of a marriage of convenience?

“I fail to follow your words, Nicole. What is this talk of convenience?”

“Surely you will agree that honesty will save us both unnecessary pain,” Nicole responded in a voice empty of feeling. He
would never know the depth of her suffering. Never!

“I am as desirous as yourself that the truth be maintained between us. Your words suggest that I have something to hide.”
The Viscount strove to sound calm.

“Whatever you desire, my lord, you may be sure there is nothing hidden.”

“Nicole! Say it out and have done with this hinting. What is it that you hold against me?” Valentin demanded, his exasperation
getting the better of him.

But again she would not speak.

“If it was my want of proper conduct last night, I am all apologies. I admit I drank too much.”

She cut him off. “Say no more, I beg you,” she claimed in a strangled voice. “What is done, is done.”

His face grew stricken. What had he done? “Good God, Nicole, what is it? What have I done?” He reached to take both her hands
in his, but she snatched them back as if burned.

“No, don’t!” she whispered and jumped up and fled from the room.

Valentin stood watching as she ran from him, the blood
frozen in his veins. What had he done to cause such a reaction? .

Nicole remained barricaded in her room for the remainder of the day, and a much cowed Viscount prowled restlessly about the
chateau alternately raging against himself, Nicole, his mother, Aunt Sophie and the whole Har-court clan. But beneath it all
was a secret fear lest he should have inflicted some wound on Nicole too painful to be faced. Reckless and abandoned he may
have been in his countless amours, but never had he violated the code of a gentleman by brutal conduct toward the gentler
sex. Had the strain of this godforsaken marriage caused some hidden warp in his nature to suddenly surface?

By God, he would have the truth from Nicole. He stood outside her door ready to batter it down should she refuse him entry,
but he hesitated before knocking and was lost. Once again fear of what he might have done overwhelmed him and he turned on
his heel and sought refuge in the library, drinking himself into a blind stupor of oblivion. They saw no more of each other
that day.

The following morning hunger drove Nicole to the breakfast room. There was no sign of the Viscount, and a much bewildered
household staff served breakfast with quiet restraint. As Nicole applied butter to a croissant, Valentin entered and seated
himself across the table from her. She kept her eyes downcast, unable to eat. There was no sound of movement from the other
side, and she could not resist a brief glance in that direction. The haggard face across from her shocked her into wide-eyed
wonder.

“Valentin!”

“So, you condescend to speak to me, madame?” He took refuge behind a front of disdain. Somewhere in the alcoholic excesses
of the preceding night, Valentin’s self-esteem, no longer able to bear the weight of an unnamed
guilt, had magically emerged as the injured party. This unfortunate tactic of self-preservation kindled an immediate like
response in Nicole and cast the unhappy pair into a condition of stalemate.

“It is only that you do not look yourself, my lord,” she shrugged, as if commenting on the inanities of the weather.

“Do not trouble yourself on my account,” Valentin returned in an equally bored fashion.

“I do not, my lord.”

“That is well,
my lady.”

A bleak two days of stiff formalities passed before Valentin’s sense of the ridiculous asserted itself. Besides, his determination
to leave Nicole alone began to pale. What had he done to offend her so? He must get it out into the open once and for all.
He still retained the impression that Nicole had responded to him on their wedding night. Her present behavior was a contradiction.

Twilight was descending around the enclosed summer-house where Nicole sat reading when she became aware of Valentin’s presence
in the room. He was leaning against the door jamb observing her.

“What… what are you doing here?”

He sat down next to her on the divan. “Now that is a foolish question.”

“I thought we settled everything the other day.”

“We settled nothing the other day.”

“I beg to differ. We made ourselves perfectly clear. We understand each other very well.”

“No, I’m afraid
I
don’t understand. Perhaps you had better explain what changed your mind so quickly from wedding night to morning. I felt
you respond to me.”

“I… I did not.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do I offend your prowess as- a lover? Perhaps you should go to Tessa Von Hoffman for solace.”

“Tessa? Why do you bring up Tessa at this time?” he demanded in sudden anger.

“She is your mistress, is she not?”

“She
was
my mistress!”

“You still love her,” Nicole accused.

“How do you know whether I still love Tessa or not?” He sprang up and paced the floor indignantly. “If the truth were known,
I never loved Tessa. She was an enchanting diversion. Nothing more.”

“How can you say that when… when…”

“When what?” Valentin demanded. He stopped his pacing and stood over her.

Nicole looked up at him with reproachful eyes.

“What has Tessa to do with any of this, Nicole? She’s nothing to me. What I want to know is why you turned against me after
our wedding night.”