Goodrich/ Sordid Secrets/ Chapter 5/ Page 18
Chapter Five
“Nic, you seem to have an admirer staring at you from across the dance floor.” Carolina said with a thick accent of mixed British, French and Portuguese as she raised a mischievous dark brow to her friend.
“Where?” Nic anxiously turned from the small private table in the corner to search the crowd of faces. The dance square was extraordinarily crowded this evening. The colored lights strung in the streets from building to building, matching the whirling colored skirts that covered the dance floor made focusing on faces a difficult task. Her heart beat feverishly, hoping that it wasn’t Colin—at least she told herself that she hoped it wasn’t him. Since last night, she had thought of nothing besides Sir Avenry and the new emotions he stirred in her. Her momentary toying with that man from her past was spent and now she needed any feeling she had of wanting to see him again to disappear. Her evening with Colin held a strange fascination-- making Nic think twice about the her memories of him and his family, and forcing her to rethink why she was suppose to hate him so much. Oh, how could one chance evening transform her complete outlook on Colin and the Avenrys? Now Nic must push her remembrances of last night from her memory. She just must.
The one thing Nic was thankful for was the simple fact Colin had no idea who she truly was. Of course, it had been more than a decade since he last saw her, though that decade was filled with vicious battles between their two families. That is why she found it so strange that in all the coaches in Lisbon she could have jumped into, it had to be his. At first she could not speak once she realized who he was, but quickly her curiosity got the best of her and Nic found that she could not stay away.
She told herself that it was because she wanted to find out about his family. In all honesty, Nic was not quite sure of all the reasons she was breed to hate the Avenry family. She knew that her father, Theodore Noble, was ruined by Colin’s father, Oliver. That his family swore that hers stole a vast amount of their wealth and was currently using it to build their own family business empire—all which her brothers rejected as lies.
But all this drama occurred as she was just five years old and since then she did not know of much interaction between their families except for the occasional business rivalry or party scandal. Perhaps it was because her brothers kept her so sheltered from both the truth of what occurred between her family and the Avenrys, not to mention from any real hardship in society. Nic grew up with the knowledge that her family name carried heavy scandal and shame. They were blacklisted from most parties and events for nearly a decade after the scandal with the Avenrys. Though the Noble family was now respected because of their wealth, it was still rare that she or her brothers entered a room without whispers swirling around them. But it never bothered Nic, though she knew both her elder brothers were bothered by the fact. Moreover, their hatred of the Avenrys ran in their blood and consumed their every move.
But there was some reason to this war between families that she was unaware of. She loyally kept to her family’s hatred of the Avenrys while in England, but crossing paths with Colin Avenry in a foreign land when he was unaware of her family name gave Nicolette the opportunity to study him.
At least that is what she said she was doing—just studying an enemy. That is until she found herself instead studying his full lips, deep set dimples framing his devilish grin or gold-flecked brown hair that sometimes fell over his ears then eyes. It was crazy of her to even try to keep up the charade of not knowing who he really was. She had almost slipped on many occasions, calling him by his full title or asking specifically about his brother or father. Moreover, she nearly lost herself completely when he pulled her into his arms both in the carriage and on the beach. Then she had completely lost her senses when she kissed him. What was she thinking?
Nic knew what his intentions really were. Colin was known to be one of the biggest cads in all of London. Sir Avenry either wanted her just for last night or as his mistress. It was that simple. From her knowledge he was unashamed of his affairs. Though Nic was not waiting for a proper marriage, she certainly was no man’s conquest. She simply wanted to experience the world before she would be forced by her brothers to settle down. Men were free to do so, so why couldn’t she? Nic had worked too hard to keep her freedom and live far from the oppressive society back in England. This went against everything her family had fought to give her. But everywhere she turned she felt trapped. Nic had no rights or choice, because she was a woman. She also could not move within society because of the scandal surrounding her family’s name. Nor could she truly flee society because of her brother, Alex. She was imprisoned unless she escaped to create her own adventures, which is exactly what she was doing.
But now her past had caught up with her. Nic’s family would most likely disown her if they knew she consorted with an Avenry.
“Oh, how did he find me?” Nic’s face flushed with exasperation. As her eyes fell heavily upon her follower, Nic’s stare lingered far longer than it ought. Once again she forgot his family’s name and just looked at him. She found Colin fascinating, despite his arrogant manners. There was just something intriguing about him. It wasn’t just his firm build or solid composure, but Nic felt hypnotized by his crystal blue eyes. Though she obsesses over his dashing appearance, something else intrigued her. Something she had never seen in any man she had met. It must have been that he had surprised her. Colin was just not what she expected upon learning his name. He was not the same proud Avenry son she knew as a child. Yes, he was arrogant, but he had also showed her a more vulnerable side. He acted to the contrary to every expectation. He was exacerbated by society, tired by London life and searching for something more just as she was. She seemed drawn to his shared quest with her.
Moreover, Nic had to admit that part of her wanted to trust him in order to learn more. But this was all nonsense. She knew better. For her entire life up till now corrected every one of these thoughts. He was the enemy. What she saw here in Lisbon was an illusion he put forward for his conquests. But deep down, part of her wanted it to be the real him. No, this just couldn’t be the Colin she would know if they were in London.
Oh, but on top of all these confusing contradictions there was something sinful in the way he looked at her, as if he were already thinking of how he was going to take her to bed. That kiss last night told her everything. Her lips still tingled at the thought of it. She had been kissed by just a few men, but nothing like Colin’s kiss. Could an honorable gentleman not tempt her? Nic seemed to only fall under the spell of the worst sort of man.
Carro leaned closely to her annoyed friend. “He’s devilishly handsome.”
“I suppose,” Nic lamely responded. Hoping her close friend Carolina—affectionately called Carro by her— hadn’t noticed her flushed color, Nic tried to cool her radiant cheeks. Nic was furious with her attraction to Colin. She knew Carro could read every detail of her appeal to him just by the look on her face. Why did she let herself be pulled by him? This was a fine mess she had gotten herself into, but it wasn’t too late. As long as Nic kept from falling into his embrace again, then her identity could remain hidden from the past she left behind.
Carro baited Nic for the finer points of this new stranger in her life. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seem a man stare at a woman with such intensity. Do you know him?”
“Yes,” Nic said in a whisper. “I knew him once, but it was very long ago.”
“And what of him now?”
“Nothing, it was in a previous life. We were children then. We’re nothing to each other now.” Nic shook her head, a few loose strands of raven fair falling around her cheeks.
“Well, he must think you’re more than nothing to him,” Carro slyly commented before taking a sip of her dark wine.
With her thoughts distant from herself, Nic’s voice intonated sadly. “It doesn’t matter. He hasn’t remembered who I am.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t remember you?”
“He doesn’t remember that we have a shared past in our families. Actually, when he first saw me last night, he thought I was a prostitute.”
“You fib!” Carro snickered, tossing her equally black hair from her shoulders.
Before Nic could finish her tale, an acute clearing of the throat from behind them interrupted. The undersized man, Paulo, shaped like a box offered a hand to her as she turned in an invitation to walk with him. As she looked down at the stout man, he firmly demanded, “my lady, Senor da Silva requests your presence.”
“I said all I need to say to Fernando last night,” Nic stated bitterly, looking down at the stout valet who served Senor Fernando Sergio Almeida Tavares da Silva mainly as a bodyguard. Nic simply called him Fernando, mainly because she could never remember his full name—the Portuguese were indulgent in namesakes.
“I beg your pardon, but Senor was most insistent that—”
“No, Paulo. Now leave me be!” Nic snapped. Turning from him to Carro, she could see her friend’s gaze move in his departure. Nic tried to read Carro’s thoughts through her large black eyes, but Nic was too overcome by her own frustration to find any other emotion from her friend. Carolina and Nic had met in Paris at a shared boarding school that both their families had shipped them off to and had been linked by their mutual love for fleeing their controlled surroundings. Carro was Nic’s travel companion for more than a year now, a relationship that had taken them Spain and now Portugal. Nic knew their adventures in Lisbon would soon come to a close as they always did, though she dreaded the day she must return to London.
Nic drank heavily from her full glass as her eyes bounced about the Portuguese dance square. A square arranged as no other. It was set up every night in a roped off area of one of the central Lisbon side streets. Dancers were of all walks of life, both young and old dancers, nonetheless all with fiery Portuguese passion. The heat was overwhelming on the already humid night. A band festively played on a risen platform in the far corner of the square and on either side of the musicians were simple stands for serving drinks to cool the heated dancers. It was not the place young women of consequence would ever be found. In all honesty, most men of name or wealth that were present were accompanied by their mistresses. But it was for the fact that it was simple and real that Carolina and Nic frequented the square.
Nic’s eyes were searching the room for the remainder of Fernando’s men. “I hate it when he sends his brutes to fetch me, as if I’m his concubine.”
Carro waved for another round of drinks to be brought to them, for they had been drinking port wine all evening. “What did happen between you and Fernando last night?”
“Besides the fact that I ran away from him and into a strange man’s coach?”
Carro’s temples creased at the thought of Fernando’s jealousy.
They both were well aware of how angry Fernando could become, especially because of jealousy. Nic hated jealousy for she considered it the most repulsive of emotions. Continuing, she said “I told him that you and I are planning to leave in two weeks. As usual, he lost his cool. He shouted and stomped around, so I told him that I would be spending these last two weeks in Lisbon without his company.”
“Oh, I wager he didn’t take that well, either.” Carolina nodded.
Nic pounded her glass on the small counter. “To say the very least! The Portuguese have such terrible tempers. Especially you, Carro!”
“I only have half a Portuguese temper,” Carro relentlessly argued.
“But your British and French quarters are eternally buried underneath your Portuguese side! Don’t deny it, Carro.” Nic brought her glass back to her lips as she smiled. Carro’s father had been half British and half French while her mother had been full Portuguese.
Carolina pushed Nic’s shoulder. “It’s better than wholly being an elitist Brit.”
“Nothing is elite about being British,” Nic huffed in earnest, for she would gladly renounce her status or nationality if it meant gaining her freedom. Knowing their time in Lisbon had to eventually come to an end, though Nic had thoroughly enjoyed her friend’s company these past few months. Carro helped her escape from her dreary life of obligations. All her senses begged to stay as long as she could. But when she had fallen into Sir Avenry’s path, Nic knew her masquerade had been discovered though he didn’t recognize her. Now she must leave Lisbon before Colin identified her for who she truly was.
Nic saw her friend’s gaze dart to the movement behind her and Carro began to snicker, as she warned, “oh, no, here comes the second endeavor of Fernando.”
Firmly stepping in front of Fernando’s second worker before he could reach her, Nic demanded, “don’t say a thing, Dante!”
The Portuguese brute tripled Nic in size and his voice boomed to match his largeness. The thick accent rolled on each word, which always made it difficult for Nic to understand him. “Senor de Silva kindly requests for you to speak with him.”
“I’ve told your partner, Paulo, as I’ll tell you. My answer is no.”
Dante’s large frame leaned to one side in frustration. Nic knew he wasn’t allowed to return to his duties until he successfully fetched her. His voice slackened into his customary unintelligible dialect as he crumpled under his duties and pleaded with her, “He simply wishes to bid you farewell before you and Miss Constenda depart.”