Hello, all! Sorry for the delay. My life (my life as a working girl, anyway) is sort of in chaos. I barely have time to do anything fun because, when I get off of work, I'm always so dead tired that I don't get to do anything else. Like writing this... or cleaning my room, even. -siiiiiiiigh-

Aaaaaaanyway. Here ya go. It's a bit long, but I hope you enjoy this one!

Disclaimer: Nicola and the Viscount is Meg Cabot's. Not mine. All the characters in this chapter aren't mine, either. I just like to dress them up and play Barbie with them.

CHAPTER TEN

When Nathaniel first met her, he had thought that she was just another one of those bratty girls that nobles had sent to finishing school in hopes of setting them straight. He didn't really take note of her as he helped Eleanor get settled in her new room at Madame Veuxvincent's Seminary for Young Ladies, but he did have enough observational skills to register that she had black braided hair, and a small but melodic voice that told his mother, when asked, that her name was Nicola Sparks.

Nicola Sparks was exactly Eleanor's age, and she seemed nice enough, judging from the bits he heard from her conversation with Eleanor and Lady Sheridan.

"Nathaniel, dear," Lady Sheridan had called when Nathaniel was examining the view Eleanor was going to get from her window. "Come and meet Eleanor's new friend."

Obeying promptly, Nathaniel approached the ladies in the room and turned his hazel gaze to the small girl.

"Nathaniel, this is Miss Nicola Sparks. Nicola dear, this is Nathaniel, Eleanor's older brother."

Nathaniel gave her a small bow, to which Nicola answered with a curtsey. Nicola Sparks, Nathaniel finally noted, had sparkling sapphire eyes, and a pretty little face that was slightly peppered with adorable freckles about her nose. Although she was standing there politely, Nathaniel somehow gauged her to be an enthusiastic girl, and that she was only being prim and proper in order to be polite to the Lord and Lady in the room.

Eleanor, on the other hand, didn't seem to find the need to act differently, probably because the Lord and Lady were her parents.

"He's fourteen," she piped up. "And he teases me all the time."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. Although what Eleanor said was true, saying that to a new acquaintance wasn't really necessary.

"Baby sister," he said, placing a hand on top of Eleanor's head as if to emphasize how much taller than her he was. "It's not nice to speak about someone as if they weren't there in front of you."

"I'm not a baby!" Eleanor exclaimed, stomping her foot as she made a make a futile attempt to swat Nathaniel's hand away.

"Yes, silly baby sister, you still are," Nathaniel told her, "as long as you act like one."

"No, I am not!"

"Eleanor," Lady Sheridan spoke up firmly, "ladies don't stomp their feet. And Nathaniel, don't provoke your sister."

"Yes, mother," Nathaniel said, throwing Eleanor a smirk. In turn, Eleanor gave (or tried to give) Nathaniel's hand a slap when he finally lifted it off her head.

During the whole exchange, Nicola had stood there silently, her sapphire eyes blinking up at him, as if examining her new roommate's brother. Nathaniel only smiled at her, making her look down at her shoes, embarrassed that she had been caught staring. This made Nathaniel wonder that perhaps he had been wrong about Eleanor's new friend.

Perhaps little Miss Nicola Sparks truly was a shy and quiet girl after all.

This theory was disproved, though, when Nicola came over to stay at the Sheridan's for the holidays. As it appeared, Nicola was an orphan — her parents had passed away several years ago — and lived in an abbey all the way out in Northumberland. The Lady Sheridan's motherly instincts took over, and had invited Nicola to come to Sheridan Park.

When Nicola had arrived, Nathaniel saw that she and Eleanor seemed to have developed friendship well. Both girls excitedly toured the estate; they stopped only long enough for Eleanor to say, "Hello, Nat! I'm back for the holidays and Nicky's staying with us but I suppose you already knew that so see you later!" when they hurriedly passed by him in the hallway. Nathaniel was left blinking after them as Eleanor's hasty speech settle in his mind. After a moment, he rolled his eyes at his sister's silliness and continued on his way.

Nathaniel didn't see either girl for the rest of the morning.

During luncheon, the girls had reappeared, and all it took was Lord Sheridan to say, "What were you girls up to this morning?" for Eleanor to launch into a very detailed account of what parts of the estate she had shown Nicola, and to take utmost effort in describing how the lilies in the pond seemed to be whiter than she had remembered. Nicola agreed every once in a while, and when she did, Nathaniel observed that she had quite an impressive vocabulary. She used adjectives like "exquisite" and "breathtaking", big words that a regular 10-year-old girl, noble blood or no, didn't usually use. The reason behind this, Nathaniel discovered later that afternoon, was something that would eventually be a pivotal element in their relationship.

Nathaniel had been in the family library quietly reading a book on chess techniques when the oak doors opened to let a pair of giggling voices float in.

"'Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the West, through all the wide Border his steed was the best.'"

Nathaniel blinked, looking up from the chessboard, at the sound of the energetic female voice quoting passionately. Lochinvar? They were quoting Marmion now? That wasn't material for 10-year-olds, was it? Whether or not it was, the owner of the voice apparently knew the text by heart.

"'So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war...'"

The voice paused, but only for a second, before it was joined by another — one that Nathaniel was already very familiar with — to say, "...there never was a knight like the young Lochinvar.'"

There came another fit of giggles, and Nathaniel sighed, shutting his book with a thud. Abruptly the giggling stopped, and a moment later, Eleanor poked her head from the other side of the shelves that had hidden Nathaniel from her view.

"Oh, Nat!" Eleanor exclaimed. "I didn't know you were there."

"Apparently," Nathaniel said in a bored manner. "This is a library, Eleanor, and you're supposed to be quiet in libraries. Weren't you paying attention to your Headmistress when she taught you that?"

Eleanor frowned, tossing one of her chestnut braids over her shoulder, just as Nicola appeared to stand behind her. "That's what they do in public libraries, Nat. This is our library and there's nobody else around..."

"Nobody else around, huh?" Nathaniel said, raising an eyebrow. "What do you call me, then?"

"You're my brother. You don't count."

"Ah, right. Of course," Nathaniel said indulgingly, sarcasm oozing from his lips. This made Eleanor frown deeper, especially when Nathaniel turned back to chess. If Eleanor hated being called a baby, she hated it more when Nathaniel didn't pay much attention to her. Lady Sheridan had told Nathaniel once that even though Eleanor didn't anymore cling to her older brother as if he was her lifeline, she still valued his opinions. Nathaniel found this doubtful at first, but whether or not it was true, it didn't stop him from teasing and occasionally waving Eleanor off every now and then. Teasing was just teasing, after all.

"Fine. We'll try to be quiet," Eleanor said begrudgingly.

"You can't stay here."

"What?!" Eleanor shrieked. "Why not?!"

"Because you won't be able to control yourself later and you'll be loud again," Nathaniel said, as he flipped through his book again. "And I was here first, so it's my call. Take your silly poetry somewhere else."

"Nat, you're so mean!"
"Poetry isn't silly!"

Nathaniel looked up again, one lock of his hair falling on his forehead as his hazel gaze clashed with a blue one.

This was the first time since they first met that Nicola looked straight at Nathaniel, and it was also the first time that she spoke to him directly. Whereas Eleanor remained where she had been standing for the past couple of minutes, Nicola had stepped forward, her stance tense and firm, as if she was gearing for battle. Her cheeks were tinted with a faint pink color, and her lips were curved in an indignant frown.

All that, however, Nathaniel only noticed on the side. His full attention was on her sapphire eyes. Even though he had always noticed the sparkle in them, it amazed Nathaniel how they looked like at that moment. As if to match her stance, her blue eyes were ablaze, as if she was defending her most treasured possession with her life. And, Nathaniel later mused, perhaps she truly was.

"Isn't it now," Nathaniel asked, his lips slowly forming a smile, before adding as an afterthought, "Nicky?"

"It's not!" Nicola answered. "It's beautiful and it's elegant and... and..."

"And...?" Nathaniel encouraged, smiling wider.

"And you shouldn't make fun of it, Nathaniel Sheridan!!!"

Nathaniel's eyebrow rose again. Since he had merely carelessly called poetry silly, and he hadn't really "made fun" of it in her presence, Nathaniel deduced that perhaps Eleanor had told Nicola how much he had always disliked it. Or perhaps, for Nicola Sparks, calling poetry silly was already making fun of the literary form.

In any case, as Nicola continued glaring at him until Eleanor pulled her out of the room — "Come on, Nicky. Let's just leave my miserable brother alone." — Nathaniel decided that he liked seeing her eyes burn like that. And he liked the way she pronounced his name, too. He didn't know what was so special about it, but somehow, Nathaniel felt like he wanted to hear her say it again.

He then concluded that he must tease her about silly poetry as soon as the next opportunity arose.

And so began the seemingly never-ending war between Nathaniel and Nicola, which, added to the already established bickering of the Sheridan siblings, was almost enough to drive any mother insane. But since Lady Sheridan had such patience (and she was the best mother in the world, according to the Sheridan children), she treated them with firm correction, just enough to keep the children from truly hurting each other's feelings.

Things went on like that for a few years: Nicola frequently came to stay at the Sheridans' London home on weekends and at Sheridan Park on holidays. The Lord and Lady Sheridan took her as if they were their own daughter, and Nathaniel, good brother to Eleanor that he was, treated Nicola as he did his own sister. The teasing continued like clockwork, and it came to a point that Phillip asked his mother if one of the older children were sick because they hadn't quarrelled for the day.

As much as Lady Sheridan prayed that the three sparring youngsters do something else aside from getting on each other's nerves, it would be two years before her wishes were granted.

It was raining hard that night. Everyone had already gone to bed hours earlier; Nathaniel himself was already deep in slumber. Distant thunders rolled as rain pelted on the windows, but, if anything, it only lulled Nathaniel to sleep. But then, right outside the window, lightning flashed with a loud thunderclap, breaking through the drowsy cloud Nathaniel was in. He didn't give it any mind, though, and he just turned in his bed for a more comfortable position.

He didn't have time to close his eyes.

"NAT!!!" Eleanor cried as she burst into the room and ran to pull Nathaniel from the covers. "Nat, you've got to come quick!!!"

"Eleanor, wha?" Nathaniel asked once concern replaced the shock caused by Eleanor's sudden appearance.

"It's Nicky!" Eleanor exclaimed as they tore down the hall towards the girls' room. "She kept saying she was all right, but I knew something was wrong!"

"Why, what happened?"

Eleanor answered by throwing her own door open and pointing to where Nicola was. All it took was one glance, and Nathaniel felt his concern increase immeasurably. In an instant he was crouching beside her, about an arm's length away to let her have her space.

"Nicky?" he asked.

The girl balled up in the corner said nothing, but instead continued trembling as her fingers tightly gripped her nightgown on her knees.

"I would've fetched Mother, but your room was closer," Eleanor supplied. She didn't have to say it, really, but perhaps she just needed to say something to break the silence. "I tried to do it, Nat, what you always did when I was the one scared. But it didn't do much..."

Nathaniel nodded, noting the blanket that Eleanor had most likely draped on her friend's shoulders. Before, when Eleanor was still afraid of storms, it always took a while before she could be left alone again, but all she needed was a blanket around her and a simple human contact, as simple as Nathaniel holding her hand.

As for Nicola, however, she was terrified, more so than Nathaniel had ever seen of Eleanor. And so Nathaniel proceeded cautiously, wishing with all his might that Nicola had not gone into shock yet.

"Nicky," he said as he slowly reached one hand out. "Nick, it's Nat... I'm going to touch your hand, all right?"

That said, Nathaniel let his fingertips gingerly graze her white knuckles. She flinched slightly, but made no other sign of disapproval. Seeing this as a good sign, he carefully covered her cold fingers with his own warm ones, all the while speaking to her in what he hoped was a soothing voice. Nicola didn't protest, even when Nathaniel finally took hold of her whole hand. He was just about to go for her other hand, too, when another lightning sliced the night sky, causing Nicola to emit a quick, shrill shriek and instinctively grab the nearest thing within reach.

And that was how Nathaniel found Nicola catching him in a frightened embrace, her one hand clenching his own, and the other crumpling a fistful of his shirt.

"Nicky..." Nathaniel began.

He wasn't able to say anything else, though, because Nicola let out in a small, strangled voice, "Nat... I'm scared..."

"I know," Nathaniel said, smiling slightly. He allowed a hint of teasing in his voice, but kept his tone as relaxing as he could.

"Nat..." Nicola whimpered into his shoulder as the storm raged on outside. "Nat, don't leave me..."

"I won't," Nathaniel promised, nodding. "I'll stay here right beside you, Nicky."

It took another hour or so until Nicola fell asleep in Nathaniel's arms. Eleanor, who had tried to stay up beside her brother, eventually fell asleep, too, her head leaning on Nathaniel's other shoulder. Nathaniel let her, and that night, he took care of the two girls: his sister and his Nicky.

It was the memory of this night — as well as all the other events before it — that Nathaniel, six years after he first met Nicola Sparks in Eleanor's room in Madame Veuxvincent's Seminary for Young Ladies, was reminded just how Nicola managed to secure for herself a place in his heart.

And it was on that afternoon, four years after that fateful night, that Nathaniel finally admitted to himself that Nicola was not just "his little sister's best friend." She was his friend, too; he had treated her as his sister not just because of Eleanor, but because he truly did come to care for her.

And it was in that moment in the drawing room, just after Sir Hugh Parker turned the page of his newspaper, that everything suddenly clicked into place. Nathaniel treasured Nicola, yes, but...there was something else. The "brotherly" protectiveness, as he so stubbornly called it. His promise to always be by her side. The strange warmth he felt when he saw her smile...

"What is Nicola Sparks to you, really?" Sir Hugh had asked Nathaniel earlier that afternoon when the eldest Sheridan told his friend about the new questions that came to mind because of his conversation with Stella Ashton.

The way it nearly destroyed him to think that she would spend the rest of her life with Sebastian Bartholomew. The many times he caught himself staring at her. The moments when he found himself suddenly wanting to kiss her...

What was Nicola Sparks to Nathaniel Sheridan?

She was a friend, a sister...and yet she was more than that.

"I love her."

Nathaniel blinked, his eyes looking at the blue sky outside the window beside him. He wasn't actually looking at the sky; his mind was somewhere else, focused on something else that possessed eyes that was a clearer, more beautiful blue.

"Hm? Did you say something?" came a voice, successfully tearing Nathaniel's gaze from the window.

Sir Hugh Parker raised an eyebrow at him as he slightly tilted his head away from the newspaper.

Nathaniel grinned.

"I love Nicky."

The admission rolled of his tongue easily. It felt strange and foreign, and yet so astoundingly natural. It was like a catalyst, and now that he had said it, everything suddenly seemed to make sense.

Sir Hugh, however, didn't seem to share Nathaniel's epiphany at the moment.

"Ah," he said, nodding, as if in slight disappointment, "Yes, I know. You care about her very much; it's probably the most obvious thing in the world."

"No, Parker, I meant..." Nathaniel tried, almost not believing his own voice. "I think I'm in love with her."

This time, Sir Hugh didn't even bother to lower his newspaper to look at Nathaniel. Instead, the publication stayed where it was, hiding the gentleman's face from view. But the truth was: Nathaniel didn't have to see his face to know what his true reaction was.

"Aye, Sheridan," Sir Hugh said, laughter evident in his voice. "I believe you are."

"I'm in love with Nicky..."

"Right."

"I'm in love with Nicky!" At the back of his mind, he reckoned that if anybody else who heard him, they would think that he had gone mad for saying the same thing over and over. "I've always been in love with her! I can't believe I only figured this out now..."

"Neither can I," Sir Hugh said in his chuckling voice. "All you have to do now is figure out how you're going to get her back from the Viscount Farnsworth."

Nathaniel laughter promptly stopped.

"Not to rain on your parade," Sir Hugh added, standing up. "I only thought I'd remind you, just in case you might get carried away and march to the Bartholomew home to declare your undying love for her."

Nathaniel gave a small huff, raking his fingers through his hair. Sir Hugh had a point. As happy as Nathaniel was, he couldn't just disregard the viscount for, at the moment, the man was officially the one whom Nicola loved. If that was even true.

"I'd hate to leave you in this state, my friend," Sir Hugh said, "but I must get going to make it to dinner."

Nathaniel nodded, and was standing up, as well, when the door to the drawing room opened to reveal Eleanor.

"Oh! Sir Hugh!" she exclaimed, looking thoroughly surprised. "I'm sorry; I didn't know you were coming!"

"Baby sister," Nathaniel said, grinning, "Sir Hugh's presence isn't exclusive for you, you know."

It was true, of course, regardless of the fact that Sir Hugh had come to pay Eleanor a surprise visit. Upon learning that Eleanor had spent the afternoon at Grafton House with her mother, the two gentlemen had decided to simply lounge at the Sheridans' drawing room, instead. It was just Eleanor's misfortune that she arrived right when Sir Hugh was leaving.

Eleanor slightly frowned at Nathaniel, her eyes shooting daggers at him. "Nat, I am not a baby."

"No, I suppose you're not," Nathaniel laughed, patting the top of her head as he brushed past her. "But you're still my baby sister, and you always will be."

With that, Nathaniel left the room, ignoring the puzzled look Eleanor gave him, to leave the engaged couple to have a few moments alone.

"Hello, Mother," Nathaniel said when he found the Lady Sheridan several paces from the main entrance to the house. "How was your afternoon?"

"Quite pleasant, although Eleanor took quite a while picking out her new bonnet," Lady Sheridan answered brightly. "And how was your afternoon, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel smiled, looking for the right word. "It was...enlightening."

The door bell rang at that moment, and a maid passed by to open the door.

"Was it?" Lady Sheridan asked.

She wasn't able to ask any more, however, because a familiar voice came from the doorway, saying, "May I ask if the Lady Sheridan is at home?"

The maid who had opened the door replied that she would go and see, but the Lady Sheridan, who, like Nathaniel, had recognized the voice instantly, came to the door and shooed the maid aside.

"Nicola!" the Lady Sheridan cried. "Whatever are you doing out by yourself, and at this hour? Did you come by carriage?"

Nathaniel, whose view of their guest was obstructed by the heavy door, frowned slightly at the questions his mother speedily asked Nicola. It appeared that the girl had walked to the Sheridan home. What was it with Nicola and walking nowadays? Curious, Nathaniel took a couple of steps closer.

"...Is something wrong?" was Lady Sheridan's last question.

Nathaniel took one last step, enough to let him catch a glimpse of the girl standing at the doorway.

And a glimpse was all he was able to get, because Nicola, much to the surprise of everyone present, flung her arms around Lady Sheridan's neck and burst into tears.

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Yep. None of this was in the original book (except for the last several lines when Nicola arrived). I pulled this out from my crazy imagination, so if you guys see any inconsistencies or OOC-ness, I'd appreciate it greatly if you pointed them out.

And I hope that the first half of this chapter, with all the flashbacks and all, weren't boring. I mean, it "revealed" a lot of things that we already know about the characters, anyway, so... um... yeah.

Thanks for reading!