The Mysterious Miss Flint (Lost Ladies of London 1)
Bradbury hurried in as though his pants were on fire. “My lord?”
“The Aspreys are leaving. Be so kind as to escort them to the door.”
“Have you no honour?” Mr Asprey waved his gloves. “Is it not your duty to abide by your father’s wishes?”
“It is my honour, and my respect for Miss Asprey, that prevents me from dragging you by the scruff of your coat and throwing you into the gutter. That is, after all, where you belong.” Jeremy Asprey preyed on the weak. “Spread your gossip. Do your worst. But do not underestimate the power I yield amongst those in society.”
The man took a step towards his sister. “Nicole. Please. Grant us the funds the earl promised, and we shall never trouble you again.”
Nicole’s eyes glazed over as she stared at the pattern on the rug. She had a kind and forgiving heart. After everything her brother had done, he could see that her conscience was at war with logic. But Asprey was a man riddled with greed. Once he'd spent the funds, he’d be crawling back for more.
“I wish I could say I’m sorry, Jeremy.” With a look of determination, Nicole met her brother’s gaze.
A warm feeling flooded Oliver’s chest. Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps it was something else.
“I wish things had been different,” Nicole continued. “But I must think of my future. I am not responsible for your failings.”
“You … you can’t do this, you spiteful wretch,” Mrs Asprey spat, hitting her sides with clenched fists.
“It is for the best,” Nicole said. Her lip trembled and she was trying not to falter. “Goodbye.”
Bradbury called two footmen, and together they ushered the Aspreys from the room. Their moans and grumbles echoed in the hall.
“You’ve not heard the last of this,” Mr Asprey yelled.
Chapter Twenty-One
The front door slammed with a thud. Nicole stood in stupefied silence, struggling to make sense of what had just occurred. She stole a peek at Oliver. What would she say? Where would she start?
Bradbury appeared at the door. “The matter is taken care of, my lord.”
“The Aspreys are not to be permitted entrance again, no matter what the ci
rcumstances.” Though his tone was calm, she knew his control was hanging by a thread. “Is that clear, Bradbury?”
“Perfectly, my lord.”
The butler retreated.
A tense silence ensued.
Taking a deep breath, Nicole mustered the courage to speak first. “Allow me to express my sincere apology for the way my family behaved.” She tried to meet his gaze. “With Rose still missing, you have enough to deal with. The last thing you needed was to hear Jeremy’s complaints.”
Oliver watched her intently but said nothing.
“And about the Miss Flint thing.” She’d not meant to make her deception sound trivial. “It was wrong to keep the truth from you.” A hard lump formed in her throat. Pressure built at the bridge of her nose and she was in danger of crying. “You’ve been so kind.” So loving and affectionate, too, she added silently. “I cannot leave here knowing you think ill of me.”
Oliver opened his arms, and she ran into his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry for whatever terrible thing has happened to Rose. Sorry for not trusting you enough to tell you about Jeremy.”
He stroked her hair and held her close. “There is no need to apologise. Yes, it came as somewhat of a shock, but I’ve always been curious about your background. You’ve always possessed an air of mystery.”
Nicole pressed her cheek to his chest and inhaled the unique scent that soothed her fears. “Changing my name was the only way to prevent Jeremy from finding me. Or so I thought.”
“And yet he knew where you were all along.”
Oh, she thought she’d been so clever. For once, she’d had the upper hand. And all the time, Jeremy had been laughing at her. Plotting. Scheming. Waiting. What a naive fool she’d been.