part. Nick braced himself. This discussion was obviously far from over.
"Then you have not spoken to her of your feelings?"
"I have no feelings for her."
His uncle ignored him. "Don't you think you should? Speak to her, that is." Nick grit his teeth. "No, as I have said repeatedly, I have no feelings for her." Frederick pressed on. "But if she feels the same it would be the height of fool—"
"Damn it all, Frederick, I am not my father." Nick glared at his uncle. "I will not fail where he failed, and I will not steal the love of another man's life from him. A man who has been as close to me as any brother."
"You would deny Elizabeth the happiness your mother found with your father?"
"No!" Nick raked his hand through his hair. "I will ensure her happiness. I will guarantee it by leaving her free to be happy with Charles."
"And what of your happiness?"
"Achieving my ambitions will make me happy." Nick turned on his heel and paced across the room, ignoring a question in the back of his mind.
Was he trying to convince his uncle or himself?
"And who knows what may happen in the future. I may find not only my fortune but a wife in America." He pulled up short and cast his uncle a wicked grin. "Or I may live all my days as you have, with an assortment of women to warm my bed."
"Yes, well…" Frederick cleared his throat. "That is not precisely…" He glared. "I have no particular regrets about how I have lived my life, and that is not the topic at hand. We are not discussing my life but yours."
"Indeed, and you would do well to remember that. I have made my decision, and I believe with all my heart it is best for everyone concerned." Nick lightened his tone. "Come now, Uncle, it's Christmastime. There is singing on every street corner, and goodwill hangs in the air between friends and strangers alike. It's the last such season we shall see in one another's company for Lord knows how long. I should hate to spend our final day in argument."
"It needn't be our final day," Frederick muttered, then rolled his gaze toward the ceiling in surrender.
"However, I shall say no more on the subject." He aimed his cigar at his nephew. "But I vow, boy, to include a plea for your return with every letter I write to you."
"I expect no less."
"As you will not be here for Christmas Day, I assume you will at least attend the Effington Christmas Ball tonight."
"I would not miss it, Uncle," Nick said with a smile that belied the churning in his stomach. He would not, could not miss the opportunity to see her one last time.
He didn't know how she felt and probably never would, but he was certain he couldn't bear to hear from her own lips that she cared nothing for him. Nor could he stand to watch her pledge her heart to another. In many ways, he was something of a coward.
And if indeed she did declare some affection for him? It was of no real significance. She had loved Charles all her life, and even if she thought she cared for Nick, it could not possibly be more than a fleeting attraction probably brought on by the enormity of her impending betrothal. There was not the slightest doubt in Nick's mind that she belonged with Charles and with Charles was where her happiness lay.
Besides, he would not break his best friend's heart, and he would not follow his father's path.
"Very well then. I will concede defeat, as I am left no other choice." Frederick heaved a sigh, rose to his feet, and crossed the room to settle behind a rosewood desk carved in the Egyptian revival style popular at the beginning of the century. "However, there are any number of issues we must settle here and now, letters of credit, the transfer of funds—that sort of thing."
Nick braced his hands on the desk and leaned toward his uncle. "I vow I shall pay you back. Every penny."
"It is every bit your money as much as it is mine. Always has been and always will be." Frederick's cool brown eyes gazed up at his nephew. "Be rest assured, Nicholas, I have no doubt of
"Then you have not spoken to her of your feelings?"
"I have no feelings for her."
His uncle ignored him. "Don't you think you should? Speak to her, that is." Nick grit his teeth. "No, as I have said repeatedly, I have no feelings for her." Frederick pressed on. "But if she feels the same it would be the height of fool—"
"Damn it all, Frederick, I am not my father." Nick glared at his uncle. "I will not fail where he failed, and I will not steal the love of another man's life from him. A man who has been as close to me as any brother."
"You would deny Elizabeth the happiness your mother found with your father?"
"No!" Nick raked his hand through his hair. "I will ensure her happiness. I will guarantee it by leaving her free to be happy with Charles."
"And what of your happiness?"
"Achieving my ambitions will make me happy." Nick turned on his heel and paced across the room, ignoring a question in the back of his mind.
Was he trying to convince his uncle or himself?
"And who knows what may happen in the future. I may find not only my fortune but a wife in America." He pulled up short and cast his uncle a wicked grin. "Or I may live all my days as you have, with an assortment of women to warm my bed."
"Yes, well…" Frederick cleared his throat. "That is not precisely…" He glared. "I have no particular regrets about how I have lived my life, and that is not the topic at hand. We are not discussing my life but yours."
"Indeed, and you would do well to remember that. I have made my decision, and I believe with all my heart it is best for everyone concerned." Nick lightened his tone. "Come now, Uncle, it's Christmastime. There is singing on every street corner, and goodwill hangs in the air between friends and strangers alike. It's the last such season we shall see in one another's company for Lord knows how long. I should hate to spend our final day in argument."
"It needn't be our final day," Frederick muttered, then rolled his gaze toward the ceiling in surrender.
"However, I shall say no more on the subject." He aimed his cigar at his nephew. "But I vow, boy, to include a plea for your return with every letter I write to you."
"I expect no less."
"As you will not be here for Christmas Day, I assume you will at least attend the Effington Christmas Ball tonight."
"I would not miss it, Uncle," Nick said with a smile that belied the churning in his stomach. He would not, could not miss the opportunity to see her one last time.
He didn't know how she felt and probably never would, but he was certain he couldn't bear to hear from her own lips that she cared nothing for him. Nor could he stand to watch her pledge her heart to another. In many ways, he was something of a coward.
And if indeed she did declare some affection for him? It was of no real significance. She had loved Charles all her life, and even if she thought she cared for Nick, it could not possibly be more than a fleeting attraction probably brought on by the enormity of her impending betrothal. There was not the slightest doubt in Nick's mind that she belonged with Charles and with Charles was where her happiness lay.
Besides, he would not break his best friend's heart, and he would not follow his father's path.
"Very well then. I will concede defeat, as I am left no other choice." Frederick heaved a sigh, rose to his feet, and crossed the room to settle behind a rosewood desk carved in the Egyptian revival style popular at the beginning of the century. "However, there are any number of issues we must settle here and now, letters of credit, the transfer of funds—that sort of thing."
Nick braced his hands on the desk and leaned toward his uncle. "I vow I shall pay you back. Every penny."
"It is every bit your money as much as it is mine. Always has been and always will be." Frederick's cool brown eyes gazed up at his nephew. "Be rest assured, Nicholas, I have no doubt of
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