Read Online Nicola and the Viscount by Meg Cabot - Free Book Online

was, Nicola supposed as she tied her bonnet strings into a neat bow beneath her chin, a hard thing to learn that, much as one might like feathers, they were not necessarily one’s friend. This was true of many things, of course, not just feathers. The sun, for instance. She had the freckles to show for that. And many a woman had met her downfall through chocolate.
    Still, if Lady Honoria had a hope of marrying someone at all presentable, she was going to have to surrender the ostrich down. She looked simply ridiculous in it.
    And really, she ought to be thankful, Nicola supposed, that that was all she’d have to do in order to secure a husband. Many a girl had had to sacrifice far worse. Such as high-heeled boots.
    With a nod at Martine, who nodded conspiratorially back, Nicola turned and went downstairs to meet her cousin.
    Lady Honoria, Nicola soon saw, was not the only person in need of a wardrobe consultation. The Milksop was in another one of his foppish sensations, this one in the form of fawn-colored velvet breeches and a matching waistcoat. Over this he wore a coat of a shocking shade of aubergine. Nicola was quite appalled by the sight the two of them would make in Hyde Park, as her neat green jacket would look quite odd beside all that purple.
    â€œNicola,” the Milksop said, his piggy eyes quite lighting up when he saw her. “A vision, as usual.”
    Nicola was not used to Harold calling her a vision. Nor was she used to him following her with his gaze, as, she was realizing with a sinking heart, Honoria had been quite right about him doing. Ever since he’d seen her with her hair up, it seemed to Nicola that the Milksop had been paying a marked bit more attention to her than usual. Which was all the more odd when one considered that her feelings for him had undergone no such significant change. She still despised him quite as much as ever. It was all terribly puzzling. Why couldn’t, Nicola wondered, Harold go and fall in love with a girl who welcomed his attentions? Why did he have to bother her ? Why did everything have to be so complicated ?
    â€œHarold,” Nicola said to him, coolly extending a hand. Surely he could not fancy she felt anything for him but sisterly tolerance with a greeting such as that .
    Much to her mortification, however, the Milksop did not shake her hand. Instead he raised her fingers to his lips and laid upon them several light kisses—right in front of the Bartholomews’ butler, who was politely pretending he did not notice, but who felt, Nicola was certain, quite as embarrassed over the gesture as she did.
    â€œHarold!” Nicola wrenched her fingers from the Milksop’s grasp, and hurried to draw on her gloves. “Really. What’s come over you?”
    But the Milksop only laughed in what Nicola supposed he considered a debonair manner, and swept her out the door to his waiting phaeton, which, to Nicola’s relief, she saw was a smart vehicle in yellow and black, with a fine pair of matched bays to pull it. So at least she needn’t worry about any foolishness over broken wheels or thrown shoes causing them to arrive home at some scandalously late hour, and—perish the thought—forcing them to wed merely to save Nicola’s reputation.
    Still, just to be on the safe side, she said, loudly enough for the Bartholomews’ butler to overhear, “I simply must be home no later than one o’clock, Harold. Lady Honoria and I are going to Grafton House this afternoon to look at buttons.”
    It was a lie, of course, but the Milksop did not need to know that.
    Still, it didn’t appear to bother him in the least that Nicola was deigning to give him only an hour of her time. After helping her into the carriage seat, he sprang up beside her and took the reins.
    â€œYou had better hang on, Nicky,” he said to her, with a smile she supposed he thought looked wicked, but which merely looked self-congratulatory.