With Love (Blackwood & Friends #1)

Chapter 29: Of Dragons and Slaying

Chapter 29: Of Dragons and Slaying

Nicola was being subjected to a detailed and lengthy history lesson on Blackwood lineage, flourished with all the nasal acoustics Lady Wilhelmina could procure in her vast verbal accoutrements of drawn-out syllables.

Valiantly, she stifled the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head and beseech the Lord for patience, and instead clenched her fists so that her nails bit into the palms of her hands, even through the gloves she was wearing.

For the eleventh time, she checked the clock that hung above the mantel over the hearth, sure that a lifetime-

TWO minutes?

Only two minutes had passed since she had last dared to check. Wilhelmina's milky, hawkish grey gaze never once left her since she began her self-righteous diatribe on the pomposity of her family's lineage, though the reason why Nicola was being subjected to something as odious as this was beyond her. Although there was a very high probability that she had been informed why the dowager was regaling her with the substantial Blackwood family tree, but it was also very likely that Nicola had not been paying attention.

History, and the subject of it, was not her strongest academic association.

"-and that is how Thomas, the seventh Marquess of Blackwood, came into effect," Lady Wilhelmina intoned flatly and Nicola wondered if she had allowed her attention to wonder during a recount of the late marquess's conception. "Against my better wishes, Jason's father chose to marry his mother," she continued in a haughty tone, never once allowing her gaze to leave Nicola's face, "and then here we are. Jason being the eighth marquess sets certain expectations for the family, expectations that only a suitable wife could provide. I am sure you understand that perhaps there is a modicum of sense between your ears-"

If she let her, Nicola wondered, would the dowager continue to talk herself into her grave? Again, her thoughts drifted off and at the mention of a suitable wife, Nicola idly stroked the ring on her left finger, its weight a constant reminder of the events of the last day. She had been convinced that she would have been in London at this time, nursing the wounds of a broken and embarrassed heart, but oh how wrong she had been. If she had thought she knew Jason after years of watching him across ballrooms, years pining after catching glimpses of him through the halls in Northwick, then she had been sorely mistaken by his carefully wrought out administrations over the last week.

And he had been the honourable one, trying to do right by her, whereas she had done everything in her power to act the ill-raised harlot, accosting him on several accounts. She would do it again, she realised, and a blush at the thought of how she would proposition him the next time flamed across her skin.

What was the matter with her?

"I say, are you even paying attention, girl?"

Nicola sharpened her gaze, refocusing it until the Dowager Marchioness of Northwick stopped blurring around the edges. Plumes of lace blossomed from the woman's neck like an explosion of feathers on a strutting cockerel. It hardly helped that there appeared to be some sort of stuffed pheasant attached to Jason's grandmother's temple.

"Maybe," Nicola said slowly, then snapped her lips together before something even more inappropriately rude slipped out. "I mean to say, yes, of course."

Wilhelmina's eyes narrowed and an expression that was remarkably condescending came over her wrinkled visage, as if she were suddenly in agreement of the idiocy before her. "Well, then, you should understand why it is entirely inappropriate that my grandson continues to favour the likes of you," she said icily. "It shan't go on any longer, I insist it. You cannot be that simple to entertain his attentions any longer without fully understanding the repercussions I am referring to. I have clout, child, and judging by your inability to snag a husband after three seasons, I am positive you need as much luck as you can get."