Disclaimer: Nicola and the Viscount is Meg Cabot's. Not mine. All the characters aren't mine, either. I just like to dress them up and play Barbie with them. (Sir John wasn't in Meg's roster of characters, though, so technically, he's mine. I wish dear Nathaniel was mine, too, but...yeah. No such luck.)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was to be expected, of course, that Nicola's arrival at Almack's Assembly Rooms the Wednesday immediately following the breaking of her engagement would be a thing of murmur. While some looked upon her presence with disapproval, some admired her courage... And some wondered if she had lost her head, for she not only refused Sebastian Bartholomew, one of the most eligible bachelors in society, but she also had the nerve to face her critics head-on.
She announced her decision just that afternoon during luncheon, where she made a spectacular show of being so calm about it despite the shock of everyone else present. All sounds — animated conversations and the clicking of forks on plates included — immediately stopped at her declaration. Even Phillip stopped talking — though whether it was because of Nicola's announcement, or simply because of the sudden silence, Nathaniel wasn't sure. Eleanor made a small squeak but said nothing else, therefore making the silence even more pronounced. Nathaniel, who did not expect her to even consider the idea despite the fact that he had always known that Nicola was not like other girls, stopped chewing and openly stared at her across the table.
"Nicola!" Lady Sheridan exclaimed once she recovered. "Almack's? Tonight? Eleanor, did you know about this?"
"No, Mama," Eleanor said, a worried look upon her features.
"My goodness, child, are you certain of what you are about to do?"
"Yes, my lady," Nicola answered, firm while being polite. "I understand that the norm dictates that a woman in my position should retreat into seclusion. But I must say that the thought of doing such a thing does not sit well with me."
"I wouldn't call it seclusion..."
"I have no wish of hiding from public scrutiny when I know that people are scrutinizing me," Nicola continued. "I have stayed in my room long enough, and it would not do me well to isolate myself longer. Why, even if I do, who's to say people won't talk behind my back once I go outside next season?"
"Well, you could give matrons time to look for something else to gossip about."
"Nathaniel!"
"Not that all matrons gossip, of course," Nathaniel added promptly, smiling at his mother's scolding eyes. Hearing a snicker so faint that it might have been his imagination, Nathaniel side-glanced Nicola. Whether or not she snickered, the corners of her lips arched up ever so slightly, but she still succeeded in keeping a straight face as she tried to sway the mistress of the house to her favor.
"You've no time to prepare!" the Lady Sheridan said, turning back to Nicola.
"I still have a few hours," the younger lady answered readily.
"What of your dress?"
"I could always add spice to one of my other ones."
Lady Sheridan paused, and, despite her obvious displeasure, she seemed to be already considering Nicola's request.
"I know it's not proper, Lady Sheridan, but—"
"It's not that it's not proper, Nicola." Lady Sheridan said, kindness warm in her voice. "Heaven knows I wish nothing else for you but to enjoy the rest of the season. But I am concerned of how this will affect you; I dare say you've already been affected enough."
"I've already been affected enough," Nicola nodded, "and I shall be affected no more. I care not whether people whisper sharply about me, or turn their back to me and ignore me completely. It is enough for me to know that you, Lady Sheridan, and your whole family are supporting me."
And with that she smiled at every Sheridan present.
"Even me?"
"Yes, Phillip, even you."
Nathaniel shook his head in amusement as Nicola smiled for his younger brother. Nicola and her speeches... And, oh, her heartwarming smile. Lady Sheridan would only be a stiff mother — or a horrendously strict one — not to give in to Nicola's plea.
"I see that the young lady has made up her mind," Lord Sheridan said, smiling. "I think we should allow her come with us, don't you?"
"I suppose it cannot be helped..." Lady Sheridan finally said. "Do keep an eye on her, would you, Nathaniel?"
Nathaniel glanced at Nicola right in time to see her cheeks go from a pleasantly faint rose color to an embarrassed pink shade. She opened her mouth to protest, but when her already surprised sapphire eyes met his gaze, the words she was about to utter remained trapped in her throat.
"Of course," Nathaniel answered his mother. "Don't I always?"
Nicola narrowed her eyes at him as he popped a piece of carrot into his mouth and chewed happily, his own hazel eyes practically daring her to pick a fight over the dining table. She didn't, of course, and decided instead to resume eating, as well.
So it was that the rest of London's high society was shocked to see Nicola Sparks enter the Assembly Rooms. There was an audible hush when she gracefully walked in with her hosts, but Nicola kept her cool, calm demeanor. But, even with her solid determination, and behind her nonchalant and politely smiling face, she was as nervous as any girl in her situation would be. Nathaniel confirmed this when her grip on his arm tightened, and her breathing quickened every so slightly. Nicola Sparks, for all her bravery and feistiness, was only human, after all.
Nathaniel smiled, placing his free hand on her tense fingers, giving it a small squeeze. He didn't glance at her so as not to direct more attention towards her, but he knew that she understood his meaning as her grip relaxed.
After that, Nicola fared extremely well as she answered her fellow debutantes' excited questions with a laugh, returned sympathetic smiles, ignored condescending looks, and took overheard murmurs with a grain of salt. Even when the Bartholomews arrived, Nicola didn't seem to be affected. And when Honoria snubbed her in the middle of the quadrille, Nicola kept her eyes on Sir Hugh, who was doing a remarkable job of cracking jokes whenever Nicola was close enough to hear him.
As the night wore on, Nathaniel felt prouder and prouder of Nicola for holding up so admirably. It came to a point that he almost forgot that he had been worried of her emotional state. Instead, he admired how she glowed now that anxiety had left her features completely. Again, she took the form of a fairy, and the best part about this was: Nathaniel had her by his side.
Really, that by itself made Nathaniel think that nothing could go wrong.
Until, halfway into the night, he happened to glance at Nicola and he noticed, even from where he stood a couple of paces away from her while she spoke with an enthusiastic Eleanor, that Nicola's smile slowly fell. Nathaniel followed Nicola's line of vision across the room only to see the one man they had all hoped not to cross paths with.
The Viscount Farnsworth.
...And he was looking right back at Nicola.
Immediately Nathaniel felt the thick tension that suddenly descended in the room — and he was sure many others felt it, as well — and, for about three agonizing seconds, the gazes of the two formerly engaged pair locked. Nicola was the first to look away, her features nonchalant and unconcerned as she turned to Eleanor. The viscount returned the favor, averting his eyes to look at the matron speaking to him, seemingly oblivious of what had just transpired.
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at his fellow bachelor. The ever-so-talented Mr. Bartholomew was smiling as he nodded slightly to the lady, but Nathaniel noted that the viscount managed to keep a countenance that enabled him to fit perfectly into the role of a rejected gentleman.
Nathaniel turned his attention back to Nicola, and quickly noted that she was glancing, albeit sideways, at the viscount again, her sapphire eyes somehow glazed over. Nathaniel wasn't the only one who noticed; his sister took her friend's shoulders and gave her a small shake.
"Jolly," Eleanor said in a whisper that reached Nathaniel's ears only because he was straining to hear. "He said he loved you because you are so jolly."
As Nicola wordlessly nodded to Eleanor and took a steadying breath, Nathaniel nearly burst out laughing.
Jolly? Good grief! After all his experience with flattering women and putting on a guise of a poetry-lover, could the viscount not have come up with anything better? Nathaniel was sure that Bartholomew had the vocabulary; how else would he have impressed Nicola enough to agree to marry him if he didn't?
"Parker," Nathaniel said under his breath, nudging his friend. "Remind me to thank the Lord Sebastian the next time I see him."
Sir Hugh, surprised, blinked at Nathaniel's request. "Thank him for what?"
"For choosing the most perfect adjective he could ever use to pertain to his then fiancée."
It took a moment for Sir Hugh to understand, but when he did, he grinned back at Nathaniel, nodding, "Gladly."
Frankly, Nathaniel would have walked over to Sebastian Bartholomew right that very moment, but, thinking of the volume of ladies and gentlemen who were currently sympathizing with the viscount, he reckoned that it probably wasn't a very wise thing to do. So, instead of approaching the blond nobleman, he stepped towards his sister and Nicola.
"Might I interest you in taking a seat for a while, Miss Sparks?" he asked, offering his arm.
Nicola smiled brightly at him — oh, how Nathaniel enjoyed that! — and accepted his offer. Several moments later, they were sitting by the window, enjoying a relaxed conversation. The topic had somehow drifted to clothing, and Nicola was animatedly pointing out to Nathaniel all the ways in which the other ladies present that evening might improve their appearance with only the slightest adjustments.of their wardrobe. Had it been a week or two earlier, Nathaniel knew he and Nicola would have been bickering heatedly by now, because she would have been annoyed at his joking comments about her love for fashion. But ever since that afternoon in the Sheridans' rose-filled parlor, Nathaniel realized that even Nicola had started enjoying his light teasing, if her response to them was any indication.
"Oh, hush," Nicola was saying, her blue eyes twinkling. "Clothes isn't just a necessity, Nathaniel. It's a form of self-expression."
"Ah, I see," Nathaniel said indulgingly, rolling his eyes. "Like poetry."
"Yes, like poetry."
"I hate poetry."
"I know."
"Then why do you speak with me about it?" Nathaniel asked, amused.
"Because, Nathaniel Sheridan, you're the one I'm stuck with," Nicola explained matter-of-factly. "Oh, now, look at Mrs. Baker over there... Do you see her?"
"Yes..." Nathaniel squinted a bit; Mrs. Baker was all the way in the far corner of the room. "Her dress seems fine to me, Nicky..."
"Well, I suppose it's fine if it's fine," Nicola said with a little exasperation in her voice. "But if you examine closely, her whole outfit isn't a good combination at all. Fashion is a form of self-expression, but there are still some conventions — rhyme and reason, if you will — to be followed."
Nathaniel blinked, frowning slightly. "I should think that one color for one outfit would be a good match..."
"Yes, but observe," Nicola began, taking on the air of a teacher. "Her gorgous green gown and her green shoes—"
"You can see her shoes?"
"—yes, I saw her shoes earlier—They go together well, but notice that she has a green flower hair pins. Pretty, if I say so myself. Her fan also has a flower design— Yes, before you ask, I saw it when she opened it a while back. Her sparkling earrings and necklace are also emerald..."
"And all this is wrong, how?"
"Oh, Nathaniel!" Nicola sighed. "Don't tell me you still don't see it!"
"Well, forgive me, Miss Sparks, but I don't!"
"They're all green, Nat," Nicola explained. "All of it. In one shade! Her dress doesn't have a lace trim, so accents would have worked perfectly. As stunning as her emerald jewelry is, diamond or pearl accessories would have been much, much more fitting. Her fan and her hair pin are both flowers, but not the similar flowers: they don't match at all despite the fact that they're both green. Her whole outfit is green, in a shade that would have gone well with her skin tone if only she chose at least one accessory to be a shade or two lighter or darker. Why, she looks like a plant!"
"Nicky!"
"Well, she does!" Nicola said, laughing along with Nathaniel.
"Women's clothing seems to be tricky," Nathaniel thought out loud.
"It's not as if you can't say the same for men's clothing," Nicola pointed out. "You can never go wrong with black, that's true, but the challenge with men's clothing is that the fit should be exact for the build of the one wearing it, and it should also be worn well."
"Huh. I never thought of it that way," Nathaniel admitted.
"It just proves that you have a natural talent for clothes, whether or not you like fashion," Nicola said, nodding with conviction. "If only all the others were like you, Nat, Almack's would be full of handsomely dressed gentlemen."
Nathaniel turned sharply at Nicola in surprise, that one lock of hair falling on his eyes in the process. Did Nicola Sparks just compliment him? Him, Eleanor's stubborn older brother, the annoying Nathaniel Sheridan? Judging from the way she seemingly carelessly said it, Nathaniel wondered if she realized what she just said at all. But, carelessly or no, she just said she thought he looked handsome, didn't she? He didn't dare believe it.
As if feeling his gaze on her, Nicola glanced at him, blinking. "What?"
Nathaniel gave a slight start, clearing his throat. "So..." he began, turning to scan the dance floor. "Who else needs a wardrobe improvement?"
If Nicola noticed his embarrassment, she didn't comment on it, and instead joined him in looking for more examples.
"How about Miss Ashton?" Nathaniel said, nodding in the lady's direction. "You failed to mention her, I think."
Truth be told, Nathaniel thought that Stella looked fine — more than just 'fine', actually — in her pale pink dress.
"I suppose I didn't," Nicola realized. "She's already improved her wardrobe, I see, just by turning away from the yellow dresses she used to favor."
"Ah," Nathaniel agreed, keeping his gaze on the girl in question. "Yes, she does look lovely tonight, doesn't she?"
Nathaniel remembered that day when he and Stella Ashton had gone riding. She looked lovely that morning, and, if he recalled properly, the young lady had worn maroon, as opposed to the yellow dress she wore the previous night. Nicola was precisely right in her observations! Secretly, Nathaniel wondered if Nicola had given Stella that advice that helped her appearance so. Deny it verbally, he may, but Nicola's eye for fashion was simply amazing, considering that she had received no training of any kind.
It was when Nathaniel was thinking these thoughts that he realized she had yet to say anything else. He assumed that she was looking for other dresses to point out, but when he turned towards her, he found that her blue eyes looking up at him, and a strange look was upon her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly, as if she was examining him, and her lips were curved in a very interesting way. He couldn't call it a frown, but it was quite close to it...
This time, it was Nathaniel's turn to ask, "What?"
"Nothing," she said flatly, turning away. "I was just curious that you noticed her out of all the ladies I failed to mention."
For the second time that night, Nicola's words silenced Nathaniel. But, even more than her words, what bothered him was the seemingly irritated expression on her formerly smiling face. Oddly feeling the need to explain himself, Nathaniel opened his mouth but, not finding the right words — or any word, for that matter — to say, closed it again.
Fortunately, something distracted Nicola out of her displeased state.
The distraction came in the form of Harold Blenkenship, which made Nathaniel wonder if the distraction truly was fortunate. The Milksop was not a welcome sight to begin with, and to make matters worse, the boy wore an umber sateen, matching it with a pink waistcoat. Even someone with the fashion sense of a cat would have said that the pale boy desperately needed professional help.
"Oh, Harold," Nicola exclaimed, and Nathaniel was sure she was more pained at the scene than he was. "Whatever is the matter with a black evening coat? There is nothing smarter, I think, than a man in a really well-tailored black—"
The Milksop interrupted, with more backbone than Nathaniel had ever seen him with, bowing at Nicola.
"Cousin," he said, "may I have a word with you in a most pressing matter? In private?"
And the last bit he said with a glance at Nathaniel, making his dark brown eyebrow rise slightly higher than it already was.
"You know, Blenkenship," he said, "it generally isn't considered at all the thing to discuss private matters at public assemblies. Why don't you call upon Miss Sparks tomorrow to discuss this pressing matter."
Nathaniel had tried to act as casually as possible, in case others might have overheard him, but he felt that he was unable to keep his tone from being a little commanding. And there was nothing casual with the way he looked at the boy, too, disapproval evident in his hazel orbs.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Mr. Sheridan. I need to speak with Miss Sparks, and at once," the Milksop said with such urgency that Nathaniel began to wonder what this important matter was.
Beside him, Nicola sighed and stood up, extending her hand to her cousin.
"You may walk me up and down the room," she said sternly. "But only once. If you cannot say all you have to say in that time, then I advise you to put the rest in a letter, as I haven't the patience tonight to listen to it... as I suppose you can imagine."
Everyone, of course, understood what Nicola had meant in her last remark. She gave Nathaniel a glance before turning to leave with her cousin, to which Nathaniel nodded, telling her without words that he would be right there, and would come to her aid the moment she needed it.
Nicola seemed to understand as she smiled, and, without further delay, disappeared into the crowd.
-
I mean, seriously, Nicola obviously noticed that Nathaniel had escorted Stella in the book. And, with Meg mentioning the girl more than once (and the way she did it), I just sort of got the feeling that there was some kind of slight, healthy rivalry between the two. So there you go. I had myself some fun with a Nicky-gets-jealous scene. Hehe.