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Nicholas Rochford was not sure whether or not he was relieved that the dinner had finally come to a glorious conclusion. For one thing, there was this topic that Bennett and Lord Abbott had fondly discussed at length during the whole evening. Surely it was not just one of the cases where his alleged father was being charming to the duke. Seeing Bennett act so enthusiastic made him nervous and miserably curious. His senses told him that the two men had some tricks up their sleeves that they were happy to test out, and that Nicholas was among the chosen test subjects. He would have slapped his forehead and groaned had he not been escorting Claire Abbott.

On the other hand, he was glad to be rid of Ms. Claire Abbott – finally. She was, without a doubt, a smart and a beautiful lady, but she had the aura of the utterly noble, which reeked of arrogance and self-importance. Without her saying it, he felt as if she was looking down at him with her nose high in the air and her eyes straining to see his terribly handsome face, because he was not high-born like her. Well, she was correct and that was among the many reason he disliked, and therefore had to pretend to like, the society where the likes of Ms. Abbott thrived.

But then red-haired Ms. Turner passed by, smiling. She was a daughter of a retired military officer, who was granted land by her majesty, and a brother of a member of the parliament. Other than her connections, her position in the government was not important, but it was undeniably strategic. “I would like to have a word with you, Mr. Rochford, about the latest trend in the textile industry. Perhaps, we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement?” She held out her gloved hand to him. Nick politely held it and the gently brushed his lips on her knuckles.

“It would be my pleasure to discuss business, Ms. Turner,” he answered, looking up at her over his brows before he straightened up, smiling at her, and then let go of her hand.

“I will have my messenger send you a note, then,” she said, then walked slowly away with a knowing smile playing on her lips and Nick had once again forgotten the reason he disliked the upper class. There were just some women that he could not resist. Beautiful red heads were among them.

“Father.”

The voice of Claire, who had went on without him, hauled him back to what was happening. He was standing a few paces from her, Lord Abbott looked cheerful as he stood in front of Claire and Bennett was also there, fixing him with a look laced with mild disappointment.“I believe it is time for us to leave as well, the hour is late and the night is getting deep, so --”

“Nonsense! Nonsense, Ms. Abbott,” interrupted Bennett, laughing as he clapped the duke in the back. At that moment, the host of the house, Mr. Farley joined the two men as Bennett continued, “The night is young and your father and I have matters to discuss. Important matters. But I understand my lady’s need to have a restful night.” He turned to his supposedly son. “My dear boy, Nick, be a gentleman and do escort the lady to their estate.”

Nicholas cleared his throat and answered as he crossed the short distance to Claire’s side, “Of course, father. If Ms. Abbott would permit me, I shall see that she is safely home by midnight.” He offered his arm to her, politely giving her the pleasure of declining for both their peace of mind.
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Great. Claire sighed, holding her hands together and attempting to look busy glancing around the room while she heard Nicholas flirting behind her. He was just like every other man out there, doing whatever he could to raise his status in society. Or get under the dress of a pretty girl. Isn’t that what Thomas, the married man she was accused of sleeping with had done when he said that’s why they were together? Keeping up with his personal status?

She’d been ready to leave with her father when the suggestion of Nicholas escorting her came up. “Yes, Claire, let your father talk business and go on without me, will you?” As if she were some child that needed to be passed from one person to another to make sure she stayed out of trouble. It was sickening, really.

“Of course I accept. You have quite the gentleman here, Mr. Rochford,” she said with a quiet smile before putting her arm around Nicholas’. “Good night Father, I’m sure I’ll be asleep by the time you return. Mr. Bennett,” she said with a curtsey before leaving to say her goodbyes to the host and a few of her friends. They all seemed quite impressed she was leaving with someone so attractive.

When they finally reached the awaiting carriage outside Claire stopped a few feet from it, turning to him with a sigh. “Nicholas- or Nick, whatever you prefer- this is unnecessary. I’m very capable of riding a carriage home by myself and don’t need the pressure of even more polite conversation the entire way. You, on the other hand, should go back inside,” she continued, a hint of a smile coming back. “I’m not blind, I saw how that red-head looked at you. I think your time would be better spent escorting her home, or any of the other ladies in there.” Claire smirked, glancing at the open carriage door. “We both know this isn’t going anywhere.”

If he tried to argue she would shake her head, putting a single gloved finger to his lips. “What did I say about polite conversation? I don’t want any more of it. Tell your father you escorted me, or that I refused. It doesn’t matter, but that is what I’m doing, Mr. Rochford. Refusing your company. So have a good night. And thank you for making tonight a little less painful than it could have been.”
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The hosts were very pleased that both the Rochfords and the Abbotts made it to the dinner party. Nicholas, with Claire by his arm, made sure to comment on the delicious meal, the perfection in the manner the plates and utensils were lined out on the table, and even the couple’s choice of furnishings in the room. Flattery was a weapon that he learned was potent when speaking with the highborn lords and ladies.

The pleasantries and goodbyes didn’t last long, and soon enough he was leading Claire away from the scrutiny of the eyes of her peers and into the chilly night of London. However, before they even reached the vehicle, she stopped them both and finally the mask was peeled off her pretty face. She said, “Nicholas- or Nick, whatever you prefer- this is unnecessary. I’m very capable of riding a carriage home by myself and don’t need the pressure of even more polite conversation the entire way. You, on the other hand, should go back inside. I’m not blind, I saw how that red-head looked at you. I think your time would be better spent escorting her home, or any of the other ladies in there. We both know this isn’t going anywhere.”

That was very true, but unlike Claire, Nick thought it rude to speak what was on his mind and risk offending a lady of her standing. After all, he attended social gatherings like that night’s dinner party to gain the confidence of the upper class, because at the end of the day, he needed them to complete the contract he had with the reigning sovereign of England.

Nicholas opened his mouth to argue, but the lady placed a gloved finger to his lips, silencing him. She continued, “What did I say about polite conversation? I don’t want any more of it. Tell your father you escorted me, or that I refused. It doesn’t matter, but that is what I’m doing, Mr. Rochford. Refusing your company. So have a good night. And thank you for making tonight a little less painful than it could have been.”

He quietly waited for her to withdraw her finger. Good for him she shared the same sentiment for he cannot stomach to spend more time with the arrogance of a lady whose virtues were compromised. There was nothing good that would come out of their conversation anyway, and at one point, he feared that they might really start hating each other. Instead of pursuing his counterargument, Nick bowed to acknowledge her decision. “Good night, then Ms. Abbot,” he said then turned on his heels and walked to his own carriage breathing easy, relieved breaths, while the cool breeze ruffled his hair.

******

A bottle of half-filled bottle of Bourbon sat on a round side table like a centerpiece. The light from the few wall scones reflected on its glassy surface, adding illumination to the dimly lit foyer. Nicholas sat with his bottle of Bourbon, though while the drink was on the table, he chose to sit on a leather armchair, while toying on a glass of Bourbon. He stared blankly at a painting of a woman and her dog in a boat. The woman stared back.

And then the main door opened, inviting in the cold of the night.
“Nick, my son,” started Bennett when he saw the younger man sitting by himself in the foyer. He surrendered his coat to the butler that appeared from seemingly nowhere. “I have very pleasant news for you this evening!”

He bet it was hardly worth listening to. Something with the duke made Bennett very excited and it showed at how his face lit up with a sheepish smile. “I have spoken to Lord Abbott,” he said, walking towards Nicholas.

“At length.”

Bennett nodded. “Indeed, we talked at length – him and me – and we were very pleased with the outcome.”

Nick offered the bottle to the old man. He took it and motioned for a glass be brought to him. “I have an idea, but I do hope I am wrong,” he answered. It was the moment of truth. All the time he was staring at the brunette stranger on the painting, he was trying to put the pieces of the events of the night together and there could only be one conclusion. “You want me to marry one of Lord Abbott’s nieces.”

A servant arrived and poured some of the contents of the bottle to Bennett’s glass. He inspected the color with narrowed eyes then turned to his “son” with disturbingly bright eyes. “I need you to marry not just one of the Abbotts, I need you to marry, the heir – Ms. Claire Abbott.”

WHAT?

Nicholas choked on the liquid he was pouring down his throat, coughed, then poured the rest of the content down his mouth. “What are you talking about?”
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As soon as she stepped into the carriage, Claire felt tears sting her eyes. Just because men should leave her alone didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Before all this mess she had fun and she flirted just like the rest of them. The old Claire would have jumped on the situation and made the best of it, perhaps even sent a message to have tea later in the week. Would he have liked her? Would dinner have gone better if she weren’t considered an adulteress?

Claire didn’t see her father again until the next morning at breakfast. Servants had laid out a very nice arrangement of eggs, toast, sausage, and butter. It was a little too much, in fact, which made her wonder if her father hadn’t ordered it because he was in a good mood…

Turned out she was right. Lucas Abbot came into the room humming some tune, one that made Claire a bit leery. “What are you so cheerful about?” she asked, shifting in her seat. “And what’s with all this? You know I don’t eat much in the morning.”

“I thought you might want to celebrate. I found you a husband,” he said bluntly, sitting down and immediately ordering someone to serve him a plate full of sausage, which explained his plump size.

“What?” Claire breathed, eyes wide. She didn’t know what to think. What kind of man would want to marry her? A horrible human being , it just had to be. “Who? I don’t understand, when…”

“Nicholas Rochford! You two seemed to have such a splendid time last night. You can’t tell me you expect to find a better catch than him. Not nobility, I know,” he went on, as if Claire weren’t shooting daggers at him with her eyes, “but still. They’re a good family that have a lot to offer London.”

“Father, I told you I’d rather end up alone forever than set up with some arrogant man marrying me for my money! And even if I wanted to, you can’t just set me up without consulting me first!” she hissed, getting to her feet. The couple serves that had been in the dining area had left by now.

“Consult you first?” Her father’s voice was calm. Too calm. She had said something that she would deeply regret, Claire could already tell. “You lost your right to choose a husband when you got caught in the bedroom of Matthew Lawrence!” he said back, staying in his seat, still cutting up his breakfast with knife and fork in hand. “If you don’t get married, you will not get my inheritance, and that’s final, Claire.” At this point he knew she didn’t care about the money per say, but it was her only way of survival. Women couldn’t just go against their families and not get married, it just wasn’t possible. What were they supposed to do for income?

If only he knew about her stash of earnings accumulated from her secret life, her jobs. But if she didn’t have a life to hide it all behind, she would surely get caught in no time. There was no getting out of this. Unless… “So do I get to speak with him anytime soon?”

“Yes, Nicholas is supposed to send a note saying when he would like to drop by and see you again.”

Claire nodded, not asking if she could be excused before leaving the room. Right, like she was going to put the timing of all this into his hands. Or rather, Nick’s father. He didn’t want this marriage either, and she knew it. Perhaps he could be the one to get them out of it. Her father couldn’t be angry if he was the one to turn her away. With an exhausted sigh, despite the day only having just begun, Claire wrote a note and sent it with one of her own messengers. ‘I need to speak with you – as soon as possible and privately. CA,’ it read, and was to be sent directly to him.
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“Nicholas,” said Bennett, sighing as he closed the door. Once again, Nick found himself with his handler inside his study. Bennett looked less excited and a bit more exasperated as he went and sat on the sofa in the middle of the room. He gestured for Nicholas to do the same. “Come on, Nicholas… James. You know that you are going to have to wed one of these highborn ladies. We agreed that it is the fastest way to get you inside their circle.”

“And perhaps I should have objected, Mr. Bennett. I could continue our operation without the help of a highborn wife by being nameless and discrete. I could even work as a butler and gained information from --”

“Nonsense, James,” Bennett waved a hand to dismiss him. “And do sit down.” With a defeated sigh, Nick did, choosing the empty chair across Bennett. He refilled his glass and took a long drink. “We both know why you are acting this way,” continued the older gentleman. The shadows of the night made the creases on his face look deeper and him a lot more unforgiving than he really was. “I do apologize for not giving you a choice on the matter, but as I have said before, you cannot afford to be picky. We need this fast – Her Majesty needs this.”

Nick looked away, studied the swirling brown liquid in his glass. “I was never given a choice from the start,” he mused to himself.

“We are at war, James.”

“I understand. I’m not dimwitted.”

Bennett leaned forward, resting his elbows to his knees. “Then tell me, why do you object?”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t like her. She doesn’t like me,” he said plain as day. He turned his attention back to his handler. “This is disastrous, I’m telling you. I feel like she is not your ordinary woman. She is… She did turn me down tonight.”

“So there’s our problem – your pride, Mr. Rochford.”

“She did stomp on it,” he confessed. And she was also a spoiled rich man’s child, who was used to getting her way done all the time. Nicholas or James Flannagan was none like her, because unlike her he was forced into the service because he could not afford any other choices.

“I have spoken at length with her father and he consents the union,” said Bennett. He eased up and leaned back on the sofa, but the intensity of his eyes bore down on Nick. “Besides, it’s not like you are marrying her for good. This is probably harder for her, because unlike you she believes that this marriage will be real, but you on the other hand know that it is not.”

Of course. There was no such person as Nicholas Rochford, he was just a made-up character who played charade with the important people of London as a means to an end. Once the spies had been cleared up and the war was won, Nicholas would just disappear. His handler confirmed it by saying, “Once this is over, we are going to stage your death.”

Nick smiled for real. “Make it a good, dramatic one, Mr. Bennett.”

******

The letter from Ms. Abbott found him the following day in the stables tending to his horse. A servant came up behind him carrying the missive which said, ”I need to speak with you – as soon as possible and privately. CA”

Well, it appeared that she heard of the news as well. “And I am going to see her today,” smiling, he told that to his horse. Bennett was right. He didn’t have to take this seriously. He was a spy for the crown and the identity he had was fake. He could marry Claire Abbott for a while.

Nick went straight to his private study and penned a reply. “Please allow me to express my utmost surprise, Ms. Abbott, upon receiving the message. I had reasons to believe that you dislike my company and yet you need to see me soon and in private. Must it be in private? An unmarried lady should not be ‘in private’ with a man – married or unmarried – as it is seen as inappropriate by our ruthless, judgmental society. Nevertheless, since I believe you have heard of our shared fates, I consent to speak with you in private. Meet me at Hyde Park. I will be loitering around the Grand Entrance at around three to four in the afternoon. Can you ride a horse, Ms. Abbott? – Nicholas R.”

He read the whole thing, folded the paper and went downstairs to hand it over to Ms. Abbott’s messenger.

*******
Not to say that he was excited to meet her, but a few minutes before three in the afternoon he was already at Hyde Park wearing a gray vest over white undershirt, riding his horse Nightshade. He wore a black coat over his vest, which matches his trousers, but he wasn’t wearing a hat. He exercised Nightshade as he waited for the lady.
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Not an hour later Claire was staring down at the note, a wide grin on her face. Not from the idea of meeting him, that was going to be dreadful. It was the last bit that caught her attention, about riding. The young woman patiently made her way to her father’s office, knocking as always to gain entry. She may be family but his Lord was still strict when it came to bothering him.

Once permitted inside Claire stood in front of her father’s desk, knowing he was paying attention despite the fact that he hadn’t looked up yet. “Father, I’m taking one of the horses out for a ride.”

Lucas chuckled, looking up with a smirk. “So you can pretend to run away by going to your aunt Silvia’s estate? I think not,” he laughed, looking down at his work once more, eyes scanning the newspaper.

“Father, I was twelve when I did that, really. Don’t you think I would have a plan and actually go somewhere you wouldn’t find me at this age?” That got her a look from her father, causing her to sigh. “But that’s not the point. I’m not running away, I’m going to meet- well, I’m going riding with a friend.” If he knew who she was meeting her father would want the entire thing taken place at their house, or worse want someone to go with her.

“Darling, you can’t blame me for not believing you. If you ride, it’ll be in our fields as usual. That’s final.”

Claire glared at the man intensely before turning right on the spot and storming out of the room. How dare he take away what should be a basic right! She could steal a horse of course, but the servants were constantly tending to the animals and fields, and while she may be able to sneak away, the odds of her getting out on a horse were slim. So, with little choice left, Claire arrived at the park by carriage.

She’d chosen to wear a gorgeous, filled out deep blue dress with white lace and a matching hat. Her hair was in curls, pulled back at the nape of her neck and laid over her shoulder. By now she had decided it was good she hadn’t brought a horse. What would have been the point, anyway? All she wanted to do was have a simple, direct conversation. Horses were not needed for that.

As soon as she caught sight of Nicholas, both frustration and admiration filled her. He looked so distinguished upon that beauty, but he was still the man she was supposed to marry. He’d caused so much trouble, why had he agreed to this? With a deep sigh she went to stand beneath one of the nearby trees, hands folded in front of her. There was no way she was going to flail her arms to get his attention.
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Ah, there was his target, standing under the shade of a tree watching him from under the brim of her hat. Twenty meters from her, Nicholas let his horse continue to trot at a leisurely pace, pretending not to notice her presence. It was a fine afternoon and Nightshade would appreciate the exercise. There were a few people entering the park at that hour, but at half past four the park goers would start coming. It would not be good for Ms. Abbott’s request for privacy when people came strolling in the park.

Then again he was curious. Besides, Hyde Park was large enough to contain them all. With this in mind, Nicholas surveyed the area for any signs of Ms. Abbott’s entourage. He passed by a couple of open carriages and tipped an imaginary hat for the young ladies and gentlemen aboard. Completing his small circuit, he decided that perhaps Ms. Abbott did manage to convince her father to send her out alone. There was the carriage that brought her to the park, but there was no maidservants coming out to accompany her. Satisfied with his observation, he led his horse to the tree where the lady waited.

Upon more careful observation, he discovered how the dress she wore flattered her figure. It gave strict emphasis to the lines of her body, from her shoulders, to her side, down to her slender waist, and then widening on the hips. If she was not the woman who was about to ruin his life, he would have been glad to be riding at that exact time in Hyde Park. Nevertheless, the woman standing under the tree was Claire Abbott. The beautiful adulteress, Ms. Claire Abbott.

Nicholas forced his mind back to perspective of the game where he told himself over and over again his assigned role – the suitor. He would woo Ms. Abbott until she was under his thumb, and then perhaps his life wouldn’t be so hard. The gentleman effortlessly climbed down his horse. “Have you been here long, Ms. Abbott?” he asked, leading Nightshade under the shade of the tree. He reached for her gloved hand and brushed his lips on her knuckles, then with a soft, almost gentle voice, he added, “I apologize for not noticing you sooner. And it is difficult not to notice a lady of such elegance and beauty.”

There went his words – to the air – hoping that the recipient would respond positively, but deep down inside he anticipated Ms. Abbott to only hate him more. She was a different kind of woman – a highborn who was immune to flattery. She was a rare kind of woman, and she was the kind that he would rather not involve himself with.

Nicholas straightened himself and let go of her hand. “You didn’t have a horse with you, Ms. Abbott? I take it that you do not favor riding?” Which was logical since he imagined that she had no need, because her father had carriages and coachmen that can bring her to places she wanted to be. Why learn to ride at all? Except maybe because it was fashionable. “Nightshade and I would have appreciated a companion.” He shrugged. “Very well, on to the pressing matter at hand. What did you want to talk about in private, Ms. Abbott?”
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“I apologize for not noticing you sooner. And it is difficult not to notice a lady of such elegance and beauty.”

And it begins. Claire smiled politely looking down, glad she wore a hat today. It would hide any foul look she wanted to give him before they could really talk. Such elegance and beauty…why the sudden flattery? After a moment she looked up, her smile gone. “I’d just arrived, Nicholas, no need for an apology.”

He went on to ask where her horse was, and assumed she didn’t ride. It only angered her further, for it reminded her of her father denying her request. “Of course I love riding, I’d be outside practicing every day if I could, as uncomfortable as side saddle can be,” she quickly answered, looking at Nightshade with longing. It was a beautiful name, really, but he didn’t need to know that. “But father wouldn’t let me take one of my horses. He was afraid I would run away, Nicholas, which brings us to why I asked you to come.”

Claire slipped her left glove off and stroked Nightshade’s neck. He was very well taken care of, obviously loved. Still watching the horse she began her rant, too frustrated to look him in the eyes. “First of all, I know it isn’t polite to meet in secret. You don’t have to act like I’m a child that doesn’t know how to act. I understand the confusion with my…background,” she muttered, figuring it was best to get that out in the open now. No point in pretending it wasn’t a factor in this marriage. “But I simply meant away from our fathers. They obviously have too much influence, I’m sorry for the confusion. So if meeting at the park is making you uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.” Her words were sharp, her tone angered as her eyes finally flickered to him.

“Nicholas, why are you doing this? Please stop being polite and be frank with me. After last night nothing you say will convince me this is out of love. So is it the money? Because there are some very wealthy women out there that would need only a few sweet nothings whispered in their ear before they were yours.” Claire touched the horse again, finding comfort in the animal. “I guess what I’m asking is- my reputation has kept everyone else away. Why not you?”
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“Your father is a cautious man,” he muttered to himself as she narrated why she did not ride alone to the park. That was information about his future wife that he needed to take note – she had the tendency to run away. Next thing he needed to learn was the reason for her to run away. Maybe he could induce the circumstances where she would steal one of the horses and ride away from home in the middle of the night. Her leaving him was one way to quickly end the marriage. Then again, until he was done with his mission, it might be wise to stick to the plan rather than waste more time fetching another bride.

He stepped aside, allowing Claire to approach Nightshade. Ms. Abbott seemed to like Nightshade and the horse liked her the same way. In a way, she was lucky that Nicholas’ favorite steed was tame and almost friendly with strangers. There were a couple of horses in the stables which he thought were socially dysfunctional. Nevertheless, he watched with mild amusement as the lady let her bare hand stroke the horse’s neck. She spoke without looking at him as if Nightshade was a more interesting visual subject than himself. He should be insulted had it not be Nightshade, but Nicholas adored the creature he conceded to its majesty.

“First of all, I know it isn’t polite to meet in secret. You don’t have to act like I’m a child that doesn’t know how to act. I understand the confusion with my…background. But I simply meant away from our fathers. They obviously have too much influence, I’m sorry for the confusion. So if meeting at the park is making you uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.”

She sounded offended, he thought. Was it something he said or wrote? As far as he was concerned, he did just state the facts that proper ladies should not consent to meet with a gentleman alone. She seemed comfortable with private meetings, perhaps she did it often. Perhaps in his spare time, he could investigate the gentlemen who were previously invited by Ms. Claire Abbott to join her in a private meeting. He wanted to point out how comfortable seemed, appearing alone in Hyde Park, with just one coachman who she sent away, but that was not his goal that afternoon.

“Did I offend you, Ms. Abbott?” he asked, pretending to be confused with the way her pretty eyes were glaring at him. “If I did, then I must apologize. I did not mean any insult, I was just teasing.”

It didn’t help. The coldness in her glare didn’t waver, if anything, he only accomplished to maybe give her more reasons to get mad at him. “Nicholas, why are you doing this? Please stop being polite and be frank with me. After last night nothing you say will convince me this is out of love. So is it the money? Because there are some very wealthy women out there that would need only a few sweet nothings whispered in their ear before they were yours. I guess what I’m asking is- my reputation has kept everyone else away. Why not you?”

What a difficult question. Nick closed his eyes and massaged his temples as if he was starting to have a headache. “I knew you would interpret it in a bad way, but last night was not what it looked like,” he sighed, opened his eyes and took a step closer to her. “Although you, as my bride, have the right to know that I did flirt with a couple of other women last night. But before you start cursing me in your head, hear me out. I did that because I represent our family’s business. It’s, ah…. It’s a strategy to attract new clients and widen our network. I need to build rapport with potential customers or business partners that was why I spoke to several other ladies other than you.” He covered her hand, which was stroking Nightshade’s neck, with his, then carefully withdrew it from the steed only to capture with both his hands. “I would kneel here and now in front of you Ms. Abbott if that is what your forgiveness requires. I do not wish to enter into this marriage because of money, my family is rich I have no further need of it.”

Claire was not the typical lady, he was sure of it. Whether or not he liked her, she was going to be his wife and he would be living with her for a period of time. The only way, he thought, to make that period of time peaceful, was to keep her happy. If she would not back down from the marriage, then he had no choice but to charm her to submission.

Nicholas lifted the knuckles of her ungloved hand to his lips. Her hand was so soft and pale, the hands of a princess who perhaps had no idea regarding the difference of house chore and hard labor. “I am not like everyone else,” he whispered, lifting his blue gaze to hers. “I don’t want to be, because what I do want is to be around you day and night. I want to fall asleep every night, watching your sleeping face, and then wake up the following morning to your embrace. I you require reason why I am doing this, here it is – you.”

To be able to say it with an honest longing on his face was something he would brag about in the future. Truth was, he wanted to give her one of the horses in his stables just so she would run away and never return.
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Claire sighed inwardly, shaking her head when he seemed so confused. Maybe she didn’t know what was and wasn’t socially acceptable anymore. She had been sneaking around, keeping secrets, and speaking bluntly with government men and spies for so long perhaps she’d lost her touch, forgotten what was appropriate. He was right about one thing though, her father was a cautious man, and if he was going to keep her from leaving by herself then life was about to get very difficult for her. As if it weren’t already complicated…

And then dear Mr. Rochford went on to speak of how he acted for the sake of business. The flirting, and charming attitude toward other women. She wanted to ask if he would continue it after they were married, but did it really matter? Perhaps that’s why he saw her as the perfect wife; she has a bad reputation, so she can’t blame him for anything he does in the name of business. At the mention of kneeling for forgiveness she shook her head, giving him a strange look. She would never want that, the entire thing was ridiculous!

Suddenly his hand touched hers and she almost pulled away, yet his words stopped her. “I am not like everyone else. I don’t want to be, because what I do want is to be around you day and night. I want to fall asleep every night, watching your sleeping face, and then wake up the following morning to your embrace. I you require reason why I am doing this, here it is – you.”

It was beautiful. Whether she believed him or not, Claire had to admit he had a way with words. “Why didn’t you say all this last night, Nicholas?” she whispered, exasperated at this point. This wasn’t what she had expected. “When I told you to leave, I assumed you agreed it was best.” For the hundredth time, Claire tried to look at her options. At this point it was either stay with her father, who was beginning to interfere with her work by keeping an eye on her, or marry and live with a man who was probably so busy with work that he would leave her alone at home for hours on end. Perhaps if he wanted to “play house” for reasons unknown to her, she could do the same. If he was going to play nice and pretend he loved her, then perhaps she could use this to her advantage.

Claire put her hand down, immediately covering it with her glove once more. With yet another sigh, something she had a feeling she would be doing a lot of from now on, Claire looked off toward the entrance to the park then back into his eyes. Those eyes that, somehow, held affection and sincerity. “I don’t believe in love at first sight, Nicholas, and a business man like yourself probably doesn’t either. So while I’m not still sure why you’re doing this, you’re probably a better suitor than my father will find.” And he would find her one. “I’ll say ‘yes’ to this as long as you promise I’ll have my space. I enjoy time to myself…that’s all I ask.” She was agreeing to a marriage for the sake of a war. If only others knew…
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Bittersweet. It was such a bittersweet victory, getting her to say yes to him for the first time. On one hand, he wanted to lift her off the ground and twirl her around as he celebrated the first success of their relationship, but on the other hand, he wanted to let himself be run down by her carriage. This was it. He was going to get married. Suddenly the latter seemed to weigh more than the former.

“I cannot imagine you wanting your space after I’m done with you,” he said, grinning at her. There was no reason to show his crushed and disappointed side. He had most of his life to practice masquerading with people of every standing. He found ladies were the easiest prey, because – well – most were disarmed by his charm and good looks. Not that he thought Ms. Abbott was the same as most ladies, he already admitted that she was not, but all the same she was a woman with a woman’s mind and emotions. He just hoped she would keep out of his way, because there was a lot of work to do.

“However, Ms. Abbott,” Nicholas continued. “Much as I would like to spend more time with you, I believe you need to go back to your estate. Lord Abbott might miss you and somehow find our inappropriate meeting here at the park an excuse to make this hard for the two of us.” Not that he could do anything worse than this. “I shall send a note announcing my intent to visit you. Until then…” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

************

Nicholas stayed behind hours after Claire left the park. He rode his horse around the over 100 hectares observing the coming and going of pale faced ladies and the well-dressed gentlemen. But his purpose didn’t happen until the sky was tinted with orange and dark blue. It wasn’t dark yet, but perhaps that was the point, because many suspected the dark, but transactions done in daylight were, more often than not, overlooked.

A gentleman and his horse came trotting by the lake. He surveyed the area and then dismounted. Nicholas had done the same a few minutes before and was sitting on a bench, reading a book, while his horse nibbled on grass not too far away. He was across the lake from the other gentleman and his horse. Tall, blonde and slight in form, Mr. Brown was a promising your associate of Lord Edwards of the House of Lords. Mr. Brown was perhaps a year or two older than Nick.

After a few minutes of pretending to read under poor lighting conditions, another person approached blonde Mr. Brown. Nicholas closed his book and yawned. He stretched his legs before getting up on his feet and approaching his horse. The two gentlemen across the lake from him were conversing. He climbed up his horse and casually galloped around the lake while assuming an aura of relaxed curiosity. The goal of the afternoon was to see the face of the other gentleman – just that.
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“I cannot imagine you wanting your space after I’m done with you.”

His excitement, whether real or not, was infectious, causing her crack a shy smile. Still, her request would stand the same. She didn’t want to use servants or any outside help in speaking with her current contacts, and that just hadn’t been possible in days. Her employer was afraid she’d come too close to blowing her cover, and hopefully this would help ease the tension and fears of everyone involved.

“Much as I would like to spend more time with you, I believe you need to go back to your estate…

It was a shame she’d used one of her few opportunities to slip away just to meet him. Just as she was about to speak he kissed her forehead, something Claire hadn’t expected. “I agreed, Nicholas, you don’t need to do that,” she sighed, giving the horse one last pat. “And I know, I need to go. I plan on walking anyway.” She didn’t live terribly far away, and it would feel good to stretch her legs. Hopefully being seen not doing anything wrong by others would help, though she doubted it.

She left with hardly any goodbye, and thankfully was barely missed, and simply said she went for a walk. Her father hadn’t been happy about it, but didn’t argue. The next day Claire woke feeling nothing but anxiety, wishing Nicholas would hurry this meeting along. Did they really have to go through with a big wedding? Couldn’t it be something small and quick, giving her the escape from the family house that she needed? Claire hoped he would agree to it, only problem was the Duke wouldn’t. He would want everyone and anyone to know his daughter married well after the affair. Maybe Nick could help her talk him out of it.
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Rays of sunlight stabbing through the gaps in between the wooden planks that made up the wall of the room let him know he overslept even while the curtains were still drawn together and the room was half-filled with shadows. He turned to his left to the face of a woman curled up at his side. She was snoring lightly, probably still dreaming, but Nicholas didn’t have the freedom she had. He pulled himself out of the bed and started to get dressed.

Martin Brown might have the looks and build of a scholar, but he was far from your stereotypical university professor who devoted themselves to their books and ledgers. No. It might just be the way he dressed and the all-knowing manner in which he spoke that made him look scholar-like, but the man was far from being uptight. The pretty lady sleeping on his bed said so herself. Martin Brown was frequently at Grapes, usually seen dining and drinking with several other working class men. Doing business with women of compromised virtues was part of his leisure activities, which was confirmed by Caroline. She also noted that he was a rather intimidating business partner, but he was a good payer.

“Must you leave so early, Simon?”

Nicholas finished buckling his belt and then sat on the bed with one of his boots on hand. He smiled and looked over his shoulder at the sleepy face of his informant. “Must I sleep with you each time you give me a juicy piece of gossip, Caroline?” He teased, pulling his boots on and retrieving the other one from under the bed.

Caroline sighed. She pushed herself off the bed and crawled to the edge, laying her cheek on his shoulder as she let her body lean into his back. The woman closed her eyes and took in a deep contented breath. “I like the way the sunlight touches your hair. It turns to gold,” She whispered. “I want to trim it off and sell it all.”

He chuckled, but remembered to wash the color off his head thoroughly and quickly. He was supposed to meet with Claire and his father that day. Also, his upper lip was itching because of the concoction he used to attach the fake moustache, which was another reason why he shouldn’t have stayed long. “I cannot stay. There are pressing matters for me to attend to,” he said, lacing each word with as much regret as he could, but as he spoke, Caroline wrapped her arms around him in silent protest.

“When will you be able to stay longer than one night?” she asked.

“Not until my master’s business is leading in London. Before that, we have to take care to eliminate competition,” he confessed then turned around so he was facing her. She was a beautiful woman with pale skin and dark green eyes. Her face was so gentle it hurt to think about what she did for a living. He cupped that face and caressed her cheek with the thumb of one hand. Caroline was a strong soul. She was the mistress of her own trade, part owner of the Grapes Pub, and – well – a selection of young ladies who promised a most memorable night in return of an earnest payment. “Caroline, darling. Do you doubt that I will stay for good when this is all over?”

She shook her head, but he thought he saw a shadow of doubt crossed her face, which was not good for business. “Alright,” he sighed, but she placed a finger on his lip, silencing him just like Claire did the night before.

“I have listed the names of the men who I’ve seen with Martin Brown,” she stated in business-like manner. “Those names are those of the ones that fit your description. The piece of paper is inside the drawer. Now leave before you are missed, Simon.”

It was his turn to shake his head in disagreement. He captured his hand and placed it down on her lap. Before she could say any more protest, he leaned close to her and sealed her mouth with his.

****************

“Where have you been, Nicholas?”

Bennett didn’t look happy. It was apparent with the way he roared the words out of his mouth from where he stood on the second floor balcony. The servant at the front door flinched visibly and retreated as soon as he got hold of the young master’s jacket.

It was almost lunch when Nick returned to their townhouse wearing his usual carefree expression. His hair was wet and tousled and there were dark circles under his eyes. In his hand was a neatly folded paper, which he hoped would placate the old man.

“Get yourself fixed and dressed like a proper gentleman, I have promised Lord Abbott that we shall be joining them at lunchtime today,” he continued with the same intensity as his greeting.

He hadn’t forgotten that he promised Claire to meet with her that day, but he couldn’t remember ever sending a note to confirm the verbal promise. It had to be Bennett’s diligence that nearly compromised his gentlemanly acts of kindness towards Claire and her family. He was tired scouting until the wee hours of the night until he tracked down Martin Brown at the Grapes. What he needed was a few hours of quiet rest, but it was too much to ask. He had to still meet with self-important nobles. He felt like a teenager rebelling against his father, but was there any other choice other than to meet with Claire again?
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Claire Abbot sighed heavily, looking down at a tiny note that had been given to her not an hour before. It held a single name and address, nothing more. Less than a week from that moment she was expected to have extracted quite a bit of information from a certain Mr. Calvin Baker, or at least made initial contact. Military personnel. A higher up that, if she played her cards right, would get her where she wanted to be. He could give her endless possibilities of insight on England’s plans, which meant her cover-up of cheating, though socially damaging, must have shown she could be trusted to take one for the team.

Only problem was this marriage would put more focus on her being unavailable than she liked. While she may still be a virgin, Claire hadn’t exactly expected it to stay that way for very much longer. This probably would have been the man she’d be willing to give it up to…for the sake of her job, of course. But now it was her that would be married. There were pros and cons to this, hopefully she wouldn’t be recognized, or the man wouldn’t care.

With one last look at the note Claire stood up and ripped it to pieces, tossing each shred in the trash. She wouldn’t forget the name, nor his home address, and she would get on it as soon as possible. The bad part about receiving her new objective was that it put her in a rather foul mood right before her meeting with Nicholas. He was due at any moment, and while she was physically ready, her mind wasn’t in it. Claire had chosen a simple pink dress that wasn’t nearly as fancy as the ones she normally wore out, short gloves, and her hair was up. A servant had suggested wearing something extraordinary to meet Nick, but the girl had only received a glare in response. She was not going to dress up just for him.

After a final glance in her floor length mirror Claire went downstairs, to make sure everything was being prepared. “I’m sure the Rochfords will want some tea, have that ready to be served before lunch,” she instructed, going to sit in the library as she awaited their arrival. Her stomach felt a little tight. Was she actually nervous? How silly, he was obviously faking his attraction for reasons unknown to her. There was no reason to care at all about this meeting, except to make her father happy and work out something quick with Nicholas.
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Dark brown was the natural color of Nicholas’ hair, but due to the nature of his job, he was used to wearing it in different colors. Sometimes the color was achieved through the use of chemical dyes but he personally preferred wearing a wig for the sake of convenience. He would have worn fake hair to the pub the night before, but the possibility of spending the night with Caroline made him reconsider. Therefore, the gentleman had to go through the painstaking process of thoroughly washing his hair in a hurry, in an inn where he checked in disguised as a middle class worker. The result was Mr. Bennett’s foul disposition, which made Nick’s overall temperament a bit more sour than usual.

The two gentlemen spoke strictly of business while they were in the carriage, heading to the Abbott’s estate. Neither was enthusiastic to commit to some small talk.

“I will personally deliver this to the foreign registry,” Nick was saying as he and his handler sat opposite one another inside the carriage. It was cloudy outside and for the tired Nicholas it was a day best spent at home, in bed, sleeping. Then again, just like what he told Caroline, there were pressing matters that needed his attention. “Brown is only one of the people we are watching. I’ve got names of other possible suspects from our informants.”

Bennett was watching him carefully. There was no humor in his sharp, hawk-like eyes, because they were surely late for their appointment, which he clearly prepared himself for. Nick thought the older gentleman looked forward to the lunch meeting, he even wore his fine clothing and scolded Nick about how it was a bad manner to be late in any appointment. Then again, Mr. Charles Bennett (a.k.a. Mr. Nicholas Rochford III) looked positively interested with the output of his spy. “Good,” he commented, nodding. “I have to admit, the information network you built is impressive. It is expensive, but impressive.”

Nick shrugged, dismissing the compliment. “Thank you, my lord. And what news of the other boys the Service has planted?”

“Not as much progress, I’m afraid,” he sighed, picking up his hat from its perch on the bench. They have entered the estate of the Abbotts. “We both know how difficult it is to blend in with the high society, and not everyone is as lucky and,” Nick’s handler paused as if choosing the right word, “as charming as you are, James. Her Majesty doesn’t trust any of the peers of the realm, including their counterparts in the parliament.” He fished inside his coat for a small jeweled box then tossed it to Nicholas. “A little present for your future bride.”

Nick snatched the box from midair and made a noncommittal nod. In other words, Bennett was saying that there was no one as foolish as him to marry a stranger for the sake of his cover. “If we are successful in destroying the enemy’s network within ours before the wedding, is there a possibility of not --”

“If that is the case, then yes, you may not marry Ms. Abbott. However,” he cleared his throat as the horse whinnied and the carriage stopped. “Lord Abbott and I agreed to have the celebration in two weeks.”

Nicholas’ eyes widened in disbelief. While still in a state of shock, Mr. Bennett took the opportunity to push the carriage door open and step outside saying, “What a lovely day.”

*****

The Rochfords were received by the Abbott’s household with hospitality. They were directed to a seating room where Lord Abbott met them without his daughter. In an instant, the gentlemen – Bennett & Flannagan – stepped into the shoes of the polite rich businessmen that seemed to please the duke. Nicholas was not yet done with his handler. They would have to talk at length when they got back to their townhouse, but letting any of their previous talk get in the way of his acting was not good. He set it aside for the moment and joined Bennett and Lord Abbott in small talk until the duke announced that they should be already eating.

“Gentlemen, the hour is late. Let us not waste time talking with our stomachs empty,” the duke said, gesturing for the Rochfords to follow him to the kitchen. On their way, he asked a servant to fetch his daughter and bring her to the dining hall.
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Patience wasn’t Claire’s strongest quality. She could go outside with the horses or go out, so she did her best to distract herself with reading and planning for the next few weeks. Buying some outfits to help he dress down out help stand out less, along with a few new hats. Thinking about all this, however, couldn’t drown out the muffled voices of her future husband and their fathers downstairs. She kept wondering if they were talking about her yet, or if Nicholas was simply talking himself up so he would win her father over even more. It wouldn’t take much, but it seemed like something he would do.

Finally someone was sent upstairs for her. The woman asked Claire once more if she would like to put on something nicer, appropriate for the meeting, but she didn’t answer. Her dress was nice enough that her father couldn’t complain in front of anyone, but she wanted a message sent to Nicholas- she was not so smitten with him that he deserved an effort from her to impress.

Claire came down the stairs with a polite smile, her eyes immediately going to Nicholas’ father, then her own. She didn’t want to look at him, not unless she had to. Just being in the same room with him again was making her angry, reminding her how he acted their first night together. This wasn’t real, and she was going to find proof eventually. Just because she was agreeing to the marriage for her own reasons didn’t mean she’d settle for his lies.

Because they were, in fact, lies. They had to be, right? Claire pursed her lips, nodding to the gentlemen. “Hello Mr. Rochford. Nicholas. I’m so glad you could join us for lunch! I do hope you liked baked salmon, I wasn’t sure what to request for the meal,” she said, greeting them both with a curtsey. The duke gestured for them to sit, the two “lovebirds” together of course. Except Nicholas was where she usually sat. “Do you-“

Now she had to look at him. She should have just let it go, it wouldn’t have been a big ordeal. Claire mentally scolded herself, wishing she could back out. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I sit in that chair and you here?” Now she sounded like a high born brat. Claire sighed, looking up at him with embarrassment “It’s not what you think. I’m left handed, and if we can avoid bumping elbows all night I’d appreciate it,” she added with a weak laugh, looking down. Who was going to bring up this marriage first? Perhaps her doing it would give her the chance to request a quick, small, extremely short ceremony.
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Claire walked in on the three gentlemen engaged in a lively conversation about the standing of Britain’s economy in the midst of the war against Russia. “Ah, but Russia has gone too far this time,” Lord Abbott was saying. To which, Nick nodded, answering in a thoughtful tone, “Fighting on land, we are at a disadvantage, my lord. When was the last time our military fought a war? Our officers are old and our soldiers lacking in field experience. It is likely that the French will take all the glory to themselves.”

“Would you rather that Russia starts invading Europe, then?” asked the duke, sipping from his teacup.

The younger gentleman smiled. “Not in this lifetime,” he replied. “I honor the heroes who fight in the battlefield, but I would feel better if the war is being fought on open seas, where we are gods.”

Claire’s presence was discretely announced by the light tapping of her shoes against the wooden panels of the floor. She entered the dining hall in a simple pink dress and a tight-lipped smile. Lord Abbott immediately spotted his daughter and just as quick changed the topic. Nick, on the other hand, sipped from his cup pretending not to notice the lady’s appearance.

She greeted her father then next turned to Bennett, whose eyes were more attentive now that their mark was in the room. “Hello Mr. Rochford. Nicholas. I’m so glad you could join us for lunch! I do hope you liked baked salmon, I wasn’t sure what to request for the meal,” she greeted.

Bennett was the one who did the honors of bestowing flattery. “Certainly a divine dish, Ms. Abbott,” he said. Nick just smiled. With everything that was running in his head, he was honestly not in the mood to flatter or flirt. There were a number of things to accomplish other than to sit with strangers.

“Do you-”

She was referring to him. Nicholas smiled at her. “What is it, Ms. Abbott?”

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I sit in that chair and you here? It’s not what you think. I’m left handed, and if we can avoid bumping elbows all night I’d appreciate it.”

So he was occupying her favorite spot and she was a grown lady who, he supposed could handle minor disappointments in life. One of those disappointments happened to be her future husband sitting on her favorite seat. Nick paused instead of hastily getting up and offering the seat to his future bride. The friendly smile had left his face. He considered asking her to sit in his lap instead right after he apologized for his misbehavior. But then again, Lord Abbott was present on the table. Speaking of which, his and Bennett’s eyes were on him, expectantly waiting for his next move. Too bad.

Nicholas nodded in defeat. “My apologies, Miss Abbott. I didn’t know.” She won the first battle, but not yet the war. He got to his feet and offered the empty seat to her.

The duke laughed, though nervously. “My daughter is not always like this, Nicholas,” he reassured. “It must be the cloudy weather.”

“Her keen sensibility is a trait I like about Ms. Abbott, my lord. Of course she is correct in positioning herself the way she did.” He assisted Claire as she took her seat, before he claimed the one next to her.

The servants served their meal while they discussed the latest in London’s high society. It was not until the dessert was served that Lord Abbott raised the issue on the wedding. “I have informed my son, Lord Abbott, about our plan to have them wed as soon as possible.”

“And you have no objection, Nicholas?”

Again, three pairs of eyes were on him. Of the three, he felt Claire’s the heaviest. It was obvious that she didn’t like the idea of marrying him as much as he liked the idea of marrying her. He guessed that if there was a way for her to make him back out, she would have done it. Unfortunately for her, he needed the connection only she could give. Therefore what he told her at the park was not entirely untrue – he was marrying her because she was the Claire Abbott, the most important low hanging fruit in the farm. “I have none, my lord. The sooner the better.” He stole a quick glance at Claire, trying to guess what she might be thinking.

“Then it is settled!” The duke announced. His voice rang triumphantly in the large dining hall. Bennett looked equally pleased. “I shall inform her majesty of the date.”

“And the venue shall be at Westminster.”

Nick fought hard for a composed expression. Of course they could afford an expensive marriage, the Rochfords were backed by the treasury of England, but getting married at Westminster with the Queen as their guest? He gave his ‘father’ a hard look. “Is this not too elaborate, father?” he asked Bennett, but the duke answered for him.

“None sense! I am a duke. I will not be belittled by my peers. Besides, this is my only daughter’s marriage we are talking about, Mr. Rochford. This wedding shall make Britain forget about Russia and France. It shall be remembered throughout history. We will invite every important person if only to let them see how grand the celebration is.”
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When he was forced to switch seats, it took everything in Claire to suppress a wide grin. Her father was right, of course, she wasn’t normally like this, but it had been well worth it to push his buttons.

The conversation was pleasant enough, though dull. She would have much rather stated her opinion the economy, the war, and the country’s strengths…and weaknesses. Everyone thought England was so important and unbeatable. Well, how did that saying go? The bigger they are, the harder they fall, and she was working to help that happen. Of course letting anyone know she even knew what was going on in the war would be unwise, much less telling them what she had learned to believe over the past year and a half.

“I have informed my son, Lord Abbott, about our plan to have them wed as soon as possible.”

Claire’s gaze snapped up, her hand pausing halfway to her plate. It was her turn to be quiet. Nick agreed, just as he had yesterday, but all of it reminded her even more that this wasn’t his idea. The sooner the better, though, that sounded great. Claire opened her mouth to speak when Mr. Rochford informed them of the location.

“And the venue shall be at Westminster.”

The young woman’s eyes went wide; she didn’t bother hiding her emotions like Nicholas did. The queen and probably everyone she would ever need to get close to for information would be present. Even with the best disguise there was no way she would ever be a good informant. And when she was of no use to them anymore…that was when her life would be in danger.

“Father, no.” Claire swallowed hard, immediately standing up after his insistence. I understand why you’re doing this, but it’s not me. You know that,” she argued, her words becoming a plea. It’s just a wedding, it doesn’t need-“

“Just a wedding? Just a vow you will keep for the rest of your life? Don’t tell me that isn’t important to you,” the duke challenged, doing his best to keep his tone calmed. “Sit down, Claire. I don’t understand where this is coming from. The dress, the flowers…you get to pick all that out.” The statement angered her, as if as a woman that should make her gleeful and solve all her problems. “Just leave the guest list to us.” When she shook her head, about to speak again, his voice rose. “Claire Elizabeth, please do not make me remind you why this is so important.” His face was turning red, and Claire knew she would get nowhere speaking to him.

Nicholas was the one who had the real power here. She turned to him, still on her feet. “Nick,” she begged, reaching out to put her hand but an inch from his own. “Nick, please. I just want something small. Intimate. We can spend the money on whatever else you want.“ In her eyes was a hope that he would help, and with it a silent promise she wouldn’t make things difficult, would go along with whatever he wanted if he gave her this. “You can invite a few people, just don’t make it a crowd. We could have it at the church, or even here! It would still be nice. Please…”
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“Please do sit down, darling.” Nicholas covered her hand with his. Claire Abbott was definitely not the typical 19th century London woman. Who in her right mind would refuse such a grand plan? He expected her to be insufferably excited. Being wed in the presence of Her Most Royal Highness, at a venue exclusive to only the highest of the High society was the dream of most women, but apparently not Claire. On the contrary, she looked like she was terrified with the idea that she would be married in a manner most young women of England could only dream of.

Nick waited for her to settle down before turning to the two other gentlemen at the table. If only Bennett had told him what to expect at lunch, he should have been able to prepare his next steps. With his hand still over hers, he addressed Lord Abbott. “My lord, I believe it my duty as your daughter’s future husband to support her in any way that I can. However,” he turned his attention to Claire, “Ms. Abbott you must forgive me, but I am with your father in this.”

He heard from somewhere that the secret to a happy marriage was to keep the wife happy. Nick swallowed hard as he looked into Claire’s beautiful blue eyes. Was he doing the right thing, going against the rules of a happy marriage? But then again, she started it by using her impeccable feminine charms to force him to evacuate his rather comfortable seat. Besides, it was to his advantage to host a large gathering for he would be opening doors of opportunities to some of his colleagues for them to be able to engage their targets. He had names of people to watch and the connections in the High society to make it a bit easier for his brothers-at-arms to make contact easier.

As if to emphasize his support and apology at the same time, he curled his hand over hers. “And I do not intend to marry you for your money, Ms. Abbott,” he added in a soft enough voice to hint a wounded pride, but loud enough for the older gentlemen to hear. “I have enough to spend on whatever both you and I want.”

Bennett looked pleased. Nick decided that he was doing the right thing, so he pushed the matter further. “This might be just your nerves getting the best of you, my dear. Marriage is a commitment which is not to be taken lightly. Believe me,” he chuckled lightly. “I might be more terrified than you are right now after hearing all of these. To be honest, I am more afraid that our judgmental society will have anything unpleasant to say regarding any aspect of the ceremony, most especially to you or to me, than the thought that I will cease to be a bachelor in a few weeks.”

The duke looked a bit placated by what he was hearing. With any luck, the lunch might still be saved from damnation. “Whatever the reason behind your strong objection, let us know so we can work out a favorable arrangement.” A challenge issued for her to be transparent and explain the horror he had seen on her face upon hearing that she was getting married in front of all the important personalities of London. Could it be that a grand celebration would ruin her chances of slipping into someone else’s bed? Even though the marriage was not real and he would probably find ways to slip into someone else’s bed, the thought that his wife would cheat on him hurt a little on his pride. But then none of it mattered in the end, because none of it was real.
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Claire was devastated. All three men were looking at her with confusion and expecting her to calm down. When Nicholas put his hands on hers she first wanted to jerk away, but honestly she felt so crushed that she just sat there, stunned. It shouldn’t have surprised her he wasn’t siding with her; afterall, he didn’t actually love her, Claire was sure of it. A great show to look good in front of the community, who would say no to that?

“And I do not intend to marry you for your money, Ms. Abbott. I have enough to spend on whatever both you and I want.”

“I know that,” she muttered, hand tightening into a fist beneath his, “I just thought it might be nice to not waste it. Or perhaps take a trip together instead, out of country.” Right, like that was her goal.

Then Nick went on about some nonsense of being terrified, and the idea that others would not only whisper harsh words behind their backs, but say it right to their faces. She only nodded, knowing the fight was over just as soon as it had started. Arguing further would only make things look suspicious and she would get nowhere with these men. At some point one had to keep what little dignity was left and accept the loss.

“Nicholas is right. It’s a bit frightening to be in the public eye like that, especially after my mistakes. But that is fine. If you insist on being wed at Westminster then I would like to hire someone to plan everything, I need no say in it.” she said in a monotone voice, slipping her hands into her lap so the two weren’t touching anymore. The duke’s expression softened, like for the first time he was feeling sorry for her instead of accusing. The young woman cleared her throat, looking down at her plate as she spoke a final request to her father. “May I be excused? I’d like to visit the stables. Besides, I don’t need dessert. Watching my figure for that wedding dress, you know,” she added with a smirk, finally making eye contact with him.

“No you may not. We have delightful company over and it would be a shame to miss that. We have a lot more to discuss,” he added with a grin, trying to lighten the mood…and praying Claire would let this go instead of throwing a tantrum.

He lucked out. Claire only nodded, looking at one of the servants and gesturing for dessert to be brought out. “Of course. So,” she said, looking at Nick with a defeated look in her eyes. “Where will we be living? I’m afraid I don’t know where your estate is located. Will we stay there, or find another place of our own?”
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