husband who-who…would seek comfort elsewhere after marriage. The humiliation would be too much.”
“Nat is many things, Nicola, but I do not believe he would do that to you. Unless you gave him just cause. Some women do not care for the activities in the bedroom.”
“Heavens, Fran!” She looked wildly about, heat suffusing her face. “This is hardly the place for such a discussion.”
Frances gripped Nicola’s hand. “You mustn’t marry the American. Not if you don’t love him.”
“I know, but...but a part of me wants to. He would be easy to love... I’ve said that once already, haven’t I?” She sighed, torn about making a decision she believed she’d never have to consider. “I know Warner would care for me, he’d support my interests, he already does.”
“But his home is in America.”
“Yes.”
“And I thought you wanted to make your home here, and do good deeds here.”
“I do, but would your brother allow me to work as I do now. I hardly think so.”
“Miss Douglas.”
They both jumped guiltily and spun around to face Mr Belfroy and another gentleman.
Mr Belfroy offered his arm. “Miss Douglas, may I have your attention for a moment to introduce you to some friends of mine.”
“Yes indeed.” She squeezed Frances’s hand and then took Mr Belfroy’s arm just as Nathaniel walked towards his sister.
Nat bowed as the party went by and turned to Frances. “What was your little talk about?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She pulled at her lace collar. “I can’t breathe in this heat.”
“You both looked as guilty as each other when I approached, both deep in conversation by the look of it.”
Frances placed her glass on a passing footman’s tray and then took Nat’s arm. “I need air.”
Puzzled by her anxious expression, Nat guided her past the guests and out through a set of French doors to the paved courtyard. Roses grew in wide plant pots. In the distance a horn sounded in the harbour. Frances sat on a stone bench and fiddled with the flimsy rosebuds in her hair.
He studied her. “Talk to me, Fran.”
She flashed him a quick smile and then stared down at the ground. “Do you truly love Nicola? The whole “ever after” sort?”
His chest tightened at the mention of her name. “Yes.”
“She believes you aren’t genuine.”
“You were discussing me, in there?” The champagne he’d recently drunk roiled in his stomach.
“The American has also asked for her hand in marriage.” Fran jerked to her feet and paced. “You have to do something, Nat, or we’ll both lose her.”
He braced his feet apart, hoping it would steady him for at the moment he felt as weak as a newborn kitten. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Has she answered him?”
“Not yet. He expects her reply tomorrow, or even tonight, I think.”
He swore violently under his breath. How rotten was his luck? Was he to go through life forever being overlooked? This time it was his own damn fault for letting his heart rule his head. He didn’t need this agony. It was much better to use the women of the night and leave his days free to do as he pleased. Why ever had he thought to marry, to be with just one woman? All along he’d known it wasn’t what he was about.
“Nat?”
“I have to go.”
“No, Nathaniel.” She caught his arm in a grip that was stronger than most men’s. “If you think I’ll allow you to slink away and deal with this by getting drunk in some brothel for days then you’d best think again.”
“Fran, don’t interfere.”
“Then don’t be a coward, for God’s sake.”
He straightened, fury burning with hurt. “If you were a man I’d knock you down for that remark.”
“If I’d been a man I would have knocked you down first!” She scorned. “If you give up on this chance of happiness, I’ll never forgive you. I mean it, Nat. You need Nicola. She’s the only person who’ll save you from yourself.”
“But she doesn’t need me.”
“I believe she does. If she wanted Warner she’d have said yes the moment he asked, but she didn’t.”
He threw his head back and groaned. Staying that way, looking up at the blanket of diamond stars, he let her words sink in. Could he fight for her? He’d never backed down from a fight in his life. Right from boarding school he’d fought for whatever he wanted, or sometimes just fought for the hell of it. Strangely, his father’s face swam before his eyes. Disappointment. That one word summed up his relationship with his