Sweet Bravado (21 page)

Collecting her wits, Nicole replied in what she hoped was a calm voice, “I am pleased you enjoyed the entertainment, my lord.”

“How could I do otherwise, when you present us with such a charming view of your accomplishments.” His sarcasm was unconcealed.

Turning to the onlookers he declared, “I am sure our guests are hoping for an encore.” He flung a challenge to her, daring
her to go further, then eyed her smugly as she blanched.

The Harcourt devil was loose tonight!

“Encore?” She looked at him in puzzlement as several of the guests murmured encouragement. “I… planned… that is… none has
been planned.”

Through the uttered protests of disappointments, Valentin whispered next to her ear, “Thank God! At least that is one humilation
I am to be spared.” He squeezed her arm in a warning gesture as he led her through the crowd and ordered quietly, “Change
at once.”

Seized by a blinding anger, Nicole wrenched free of his grasp. He was taking charge! She would show this arrogant man once
and for all that she would not take orders from him. “No, wait! I almost forgot. Rudi? Where is Rudi?”

“Here, my lady.”

“Rudi, do you remember the dance you were showing me the other day?”

“The dance?” he questioned.

“Come Rudi, tell the musicians what you wish them to play.”

He still hesitated, “But, madame…”

“Quickly, Rudi,” she sighed in exasperation at his reluctance.

“Very well,” he acquiesced and began speaking to the musicians.

Nicole was afraid to look at her enraged husband who had recovered enough composure to resist the impulse to drag her off
the floor. The music began, and Nicole whirled around Rudi who clapped his hands and stamped his feet in rhythm to the harsh
primitive sounds. Natalya took up the beat, and encouraged by this, Nicole indicated that others should join in. Although
reluctant at first, several of the younger more daring members of the party proceeded to match their steps with the dancers.
Caught up in the mad pace of clapping hands, stomping feet, and shouts of laughter, the group began to dance wildly while
other guests murmured their disapproval.

Each rhythmic step brought Nicole closer to her husband until she danced directly in front of him, giving herself up to the
intimacy of the moment—her body swaying hypnotically. A wave of jubilation swept her as sparks of desire lighted Valentin’s
eyes and seizing her moment of triumph, she flung her cape at his feet revealing her seductive attire to the eager eyes of
the surrounding crowd. The light of passion in Valentin’s eyes was quenched immediately, and he lunged at Nicole snatching
her in his arms and forcibly removing her from the abandoned merrymakers.

In the outer hall, he picked her up and, ignoring her flaying arms and whispered damnations, he carried her along the corridor
to her bedchamber. Once inside he threw her upon the bed.

“Well, madame, have you enjoyed yourself?” he demanded furiously.

“And why shouldn’t I? You must remember I am the daughter of a dancer.” She struggled to a sitting position.

“Oh, yes, your humble origin, my dear Viscountess!” he sneered. “Does that mean I might expect further shameless exhibitions
in the future?”

“I have done nothing to be ashamed of! And I shall continue to do just as I please.”

“You forget yourself, madame.
I
dictate matters in this family.”

“And I recall you gave me the right to lead my own life!”

“That was a mistake! You do not know the meaning of the word discretion…”

“You dare to talk to me of discretion after your scandalous conduct with Tessa Von Hoffman!” she stormed, jumping off the
bed.

“Her again! I am tired of hearing about Tessa!” he shouted.

“Like it or not she is part of this… this mess!”

“Yes,” he hissed menacingly. “She, too, haunts me, but whereas I have little control over her, I have you in my power.”

“And what power do you profess to wield over me?” Defiantly she stepped toward him placing her hands onher hips.

“Life and death, my dear,” he assured her arrogantly.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes, I am. It would be a pleasure to strangle you. Then again maybe I shall have you locked up in a convent…”

She laughed nervously.

“Or better still take my mother’s advice and give you a child.”

“You hateful brute!”

“It tempts me… especially after that provocative performance this evening.” He advanced toward her. She backed away to the
windows. “Why should I not enjoy the pleasures of a wife who seems to have captured the fancy of…” he hesitated, “God knows
how many other men during my absence.”

“You…” she gasped, her outrage nearly rendering her speechless. “You…”

He caught her to himself and Nicole began to struggle in his arms. “Let me go!”

“At least I shall be free of doubts during your confinement.” He grabbed her writhing body more firmly.

“Why take a woman who despises you?” she cried.

“Because I am master here, and I do not think you have learned that yet! I will do whatever I damn well please with you!”
he roared.

Freeing one of her arms, she slapped him hard across the face. Stunned momentarily, Valentin drew back, a black scowl contorting
his handsome features as he reached out and grabbed the filmsy garment she was wearing, ripping it down the front and exposing
her full breasts. She screamed in alarm, but it was stifled as his mouth closed on hers, and he bore her down on the bed.
Unexpectedly a fire was lighted in her to match his own enraged passion. She clung to him only to be startled by his abrupt
withdrawal. His irregular breathing was the only sound within the room as he leaned over her. Then he rose and began straightening
his uniform. “Let that be a lesson to you, my love,” he rasped. “I could take you anytime I want, but I shall not… tonight!
We have guests waiting.” He walked toward the door and turned to address the disheveled girl crouching on the bed. “It is
interesting, my dear Nicole, although you profess to hate me, how quickly you respond to my advances.”

“You… contemptible beast!” She flung herself off the bed and threw a vase at the retreating figure whose mocking laugh could
be heard through the closed door.

Resolutely the Viscount proceeded down the stairs to the party below. His body ached with desire for her, but his pride kept
him from retracing his steps and completing what he had started.

Nicole was surprised to see Valentin in the breakfast room when she came down the following morning. He eyed her silently
until the servants withdrew. Then he said, “I should be at headquarters by now, but I waited to speak to you.” She continued
to sip her coffee. “I want you to make no further commitments without my knowledge, Nicole.” Her head jerked up, eyes angry
violet flames. But he ignored her defiant stare and added, “I mean it, Nicole. I do not have time to talk about it now; when
I return this evening, we will discuss everything.”

He, got up and came around the table to her and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, but she shrugged it loose. Valentin
sighed, controlling his rising temper at her imposed silence. “Maybe we can come to some sort of an
understanding if we talk it out.” He did not wait for a reply.

Nicole remained seated at the table thinking over what happened the night before. She had left the bedroom dressed once again
in her violet silk and reappeared below cloaking her turbulent emotions under an icy calm. It was easy to locate her husband—his
burnished blond head topped most of her other guests. Nevertheless, he made no attempt to seek out her company. Several times
she caught his gaze, yet whatever he was thinking was masked behind a cold exterior. Half-expecting he might lead her out
in the last waltz, she was disappointed for he was nowhere to be seen.

Later Nicole thought she glimpsed him in the courtyard as she ushered out the last guests, but of that she was uncertain.
Frustrated by her inability to communicate with him, she wandered about the empty rooms as the servants doused the candles
and bid her a courteous goodnight.

The sound of Valentin leaving by the front door brought her out of her reverie. She got up from the table, went to the window
and pushed the curtain aside in time to see him leap onto his horse. Valentin’s eyes scanned the windows and rested on her
for a moment, and then another. Finally, he wrenched his eyes away and rode off, leaving Nicole to stare into an empty courtyard.

Threats and reproaches. That was all he had for her! Well, if that’s the way he wanted it, tonight she was going to Zarelle’s
with Joseph Crawley whether he approved or not.

Wellington’s headquarters on the Rué Royale were a short distance from the Rue d’Anglais, but the Viscount chose to ride,
taking a brief canter about the park to clear his mind and collect his thoughts. He reached headquarters
in a state of depression, the ride having accomplished little.

Most of the men who formed the Duke’s personal staff in Vienna were with him in Brussels, and their lively youth and good
humor were as much in evidence as ever. Nevertheless, the look on Lord Ardsmore’s face as he entered acted as sufficient warning
and his fellow officers gave him a clear berth. He stood at a window staring moodily at the passing throng in the streets,
neither seeing or hearing what took place—his thoughts filled with Nicole. Desire, anger, longing, and chagrin were tangled
together in a skein of bewildering emotions. Damn the wench! She was destroying his peace! He had longed for a reconciliation.
At least some sign of contrition on her part… but no, instead he found her as defiant as ever and—

“Colonel”—his thoughts were interrupted. “Lord Ards-more, someone to see you.”

He swung around. “Danforth! by jove, it is good to see you. How the hell are you?”

“Fine and yourself?” Gordon Danforth said clasping Valentin’s hand.

“As well as can be expected,” he grinned. Then added, “I thought you were in Ghent?”

“I was until yesterday, but the Duke’s arrival has brought me here. I am to be a liaison officer between the court at Ghent
and Brussels.”

“Good, then we shall be seeing something of you.”

“Yes. I heard your wife was in Brussels. How… how is she?”

“You shall see for yourself. You will dine with us tonight, of course?”

“I would like that.”

“Good. And then you can tell me about the mysterious
Parisian beauty who captured your heart.” A look of pain crossed his friend’s face. Quickly Valentin added, “And I will regale
you with tales of Vienna.”

“Yes,” Danforth recovered, “but now I must file my report.”

“Until tonight then.” Valentin escorted Danforth from the office and returned to tackle a pile of papers on his desk, stopping
momentarily to wonder what had happened to his old friend and this girl Perry had written about. Perplexed still, Valentin
resumed his work.

Nicole had arranged earlier in the week to have dinner with Lord Crawley at Zarelle’s, a dance hall of considerable notoriety.
Everyone who attended the infamous establishment disguised their appearance by wearing masks and dominos. Nicole had been
half-tempted to cancel the invitation knowing of Zarelle’s dubious reputation, but her curiosity, coupled with Valentin’s
ultimatum, spurred her on.

So, despite her husband’s warning, Nicole enlisted the aid of the unsuspecting Helen Bramwell. After sending a note to Crawley
advising him to meet her at the Bram well’s, Nicole concealed her domino and mask under her cloak and made her way to their
home.

She was not prepared for Helen’s vehemently negative reaction when she was informed of Nicole’s destination. Helen remonstrated
with Nicole, but to no avail for it only made her more determined to go through with the evening as previously planned.

“I do not think you should do this, Nicole,” Helen pleaded as she followed her into the entrance hall.

“You make too much of it, Helen. Good heavens, you know as well as I that everyone goes to Zarelle’s. I only wish to see what
all the fuss is about. Now be a good
friend and do not fret. I must rush. Crawley’s chaise is already waiting.”

And without another word, she swept from the house leaving the distressed girl behind.

The note for Captain Bramwell arrived at headquarters just as he and Lord Ardsmore were about to leave. Quickly perusing the
scrawled message from his wife, the Captain raised his head abruptly and scowled at his companion.

Noticing the frown, Valentin commented, “I hope it is not bad news, Harry.”

Hesitantly he held out the note to Valentin. “I… I think you’d better read this, Val.”

The last remnants of a smile faded from Valentin’s lips as he read the note. Muttering an oath, he crumpled the paper in his
hand and raced from the building leaving Bramwell wondering what he should do.

Nicole’s senses throbbed with the excitement of Za-relle’s. The dance floor was sparsely lighted by hanging lanterns and much
of the room was in semi-darkness. Tiers of private booths draped in black and red helped to create a mysterious atmosphere.
Unable to follow the strange steps being performed by the costumed figures who crammed the dance floor, Nicole removed herself
from Crawley’s grasping arms and asked him to seek refreshments while she returned to their box.

It was cooler in the small corridor, and Nicole’s agitation subsided once she was out of the crush. She was sure she had glimpsed
several other socialites behind those masks and dominos; nevertheless, she could not relax. Try as she may to blame it on
Helen Bramwell’s forebodings, she could not shake off her uneasiness. There was a
disturbing change in Crawley’s demeanor tonight. He had always treated her with deference in the past, but here at Zarelle’s
he was behaving aggressively, and it frightened her.

Entering the box and removing her mask, Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. She had come to a decision. As soon as Crawley returned,
she would ask him to take her home. She admitted to herself that it had been a mistake to come here.