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Chapter Fourteen
Nicholas settled onto the carriage bench across from Lord Anterleigh, unaccountably aggrieved by his friend and employer’s expression, when he ought to be grateful for the man’s patience. “Given what has just occurred, you’re looking at me most charitably.”
David Chadbourne blinked and looked out the window. “I apologize if my reaction is lacking in thespian flair, but you know I don’t enjoy the theater. ”
Sighing, Nicholas ran his fingers into his sweaty hair. “I supposemybehavior of late has been sufficiently dramatic for the both of us.”
Their tennis game today had been brutal in its intensity, and after losing by a single point, Nicholas had thrown his racquet across the court—like a child swept away by a fit of bad temper.
If only his feverish emotions of late were as short-lived as a youngster’s. Since Helen Gray had entered his life weeks earlier, a wave of passion had lifted him and bandied him about, and that tide had yet to fall. His appetite was failing to such a degree he could be convinced he needed only fresh air and Helen’s smile to live. Sleep seemed optional, and even when he indulged it, she appeared in his dreams. Likewise, he conjured her image during the day…to the detriment of his focus.
“Not only would you be justified in jettisoning me as a tennis opponent, you would be wise to toss me from your firm,” Nicholas said quietly. His even tone lacked petulance, even if his words were rife with it.
“Only if you continued to make errors,” the Earl said reasonably. Despite the man’s lofty expectations, he had been shockingly understanding when Nicholas had signed a contract obligating them to produce metal railway components at their foundry at a loss. Oh, the grand difference a decimal point could make. “What’s happening with you is highly irregular.”
“It is,” Nicholas agreed, his voice tight.
Examining his cuticles through narrowed eyes, David appeared nonplussed. “It’s that American woman.”
That American woman.He seethed at the words and his friend’s cold tone, yet rejoiced at Helen’s very mention. “You deduced correctly.”
David looked disappointed but unsurprised. “I was afraid of that. I have, after all, seen this sort of thing before.” He sighed. “Clara and James.”
With a mirthless laugh, Nicholas shook his head. As much as David had accepted his sister’s match, he still found the entire matter disconcerting, at least at times. He had, however, confessed to being grateful for his sister’s sake that she had married for love, whatever the cost.
Feeling brotherly toward Clara himself, so was Nicholas. But James and Clara’s circumstances were different fromthis.
“What’s the struggle?” David asked with long-suffering weariness.
“Struggle?”
“You’ve all but admitted the problem. Some form of infatuation with that Helen Gray. But what, specifically, are you agonizing over?”
Infatuation, yes. He couldn’t deny that, though the last thing he was in the mood for was a rational-sounding discussion about it with the Earl of Anterleigh.
“Nicholas, I haven’t seen you this upset since the anguish leading up to your decision to leave Sideris & Co. However difficult the act itself, you bore the consequences bravely. The greatest suffering came beforehand—when you were weighing what to do and before you announced it.”
Frowning, Nicholas considered that, and after a time, he nodded. “That’s true. But this…this might be different. I knew what the right course of action was then, only I agonized over it.This, however…”
David shook his head pityingly. “I’ve seen enough love-induced madness in my life to sympathize, even if I haven’t experienced it myself.” His mouth flattened. “You’ve had liaisons before. Attachments, even. Yet you kept a clear head.”
Realizing his friend was right, Nicholas nodded and stared sightlessly at his own hands. It was true. Without fail, he had always catalogued the pitfalls of any relationship. Even when he had known affection for a woman, he could recognize when it was wise to disentangle—or not pursue someone at all.
With complete clarity, Nicholas could identify the various complications that ought to repel him from Helen, starting with that brother of hers. The Millers’s animus for Nicholas’s adopted homeland. Then there was that prickliness of hers, underlaid with wounds of the past. Her family and first marriage had not been what she deserved, of that he was certain.
“None of my previous companions had a list of disadvantages as long as Helen Gray’s. Yet I…”
“Indeed. Yes, this American represents quite a few troubles. Imagine if her tea venture fails. Your fortune will disappear.”
“There’s that,” he admitted. “And Helen would be destitute in a foreign land.”
The Earl nodded before continuing the list of drawbacks. “Her brother…”
“Bared his arse to the Lords Admiral,” Nicholas supplied.
“On such a chilly day at that,” David said, then sniffed.
Suppressing a smile, Nicholas continued the list, inordinately offended when David nodded after each item.
